“Perhaps,” continued Mary sadly, “perhaps he has grown tired of his Highland Mary.” She plucked idly at the fringe of her plaid, a look of resignation on her sweet face. “Tired o’ ye?” repeated Souter incredulously. “A man would be a most fearful fool to gie up such a bonnie, sweet lassie as ye are. Noo, if I were only younger, Robbie Burns wouldna hae things all his own way, I tell ye,” and he nodded his head vigorously. “I ken he has some trouble,” said Mary, not heeding his jocular efforts to cheer her, “that makes him so unhappy like; if he would only let me share that trouble wi’ him, whate’er it is, how gladly I would do it.” Souter rubbed his bearded chin reflectively. “Weel, Mary, ye ken Robert’s a genius,” he answered soberly. “An’ ye can ne’er tell how a genius is gang to act, therefore ye must ne’er be surprised, Mary, at whate’er he does, for genius is but anither name for eccentricity an’—an’ perverseness,” and he sighed deeply, his kind old face wrinkled with perplexity. “I feel, Souter,” she continued, pathetically calm, “that I am slowly, but surely, drifting out o’ his life forever.” She gazed suddenly into the face bending over her solicitously. “Dinna ye know the cause, Souter?” she asked beseechingly. He brushed his hand across his eyes and slowly shook his head. She sighed patiently and turned away her head and gazed listlessly into space. For a few moments there was deep silence, broken only by the bursts of laughter which came to them at intervals from within. “Lassie, listen to me,” finally said the old man, his voice cheery and hopeful once more. “Ye mustna be so down-hearted; there is a cause for everything in this world, an’ I ken Robert loves ye wi’ all his heart, just the same as ever. Why, ye can see the glimmer o’ love in his e’e whene’er he looks at ye.” He smiled approvingly as Mary’s face brightened, then continued decidedly, “Robert is well-nigh daft that he hasna heard frae Lord Glencairn all this time; that is why he is sae worrid an’ nervous, sae moody an’ neglectful; noo cheer thee, lassie, it’ll all come right in time,” and he patted her shoulder lovingly. “Oh, I feel sae much better, Souter,” she murmured, pressing his hand gratefully. “An’ noo I’ll na borrow trouble any mair, thinkin’ Robert doesna’ love me.” She smiled happily and jumped lightly to her feet. “Whist, Mary, why dinna ye make sure o’ that?” whispered Souter, looking around him mysteriously. She looked at him wonderingly. “’Tis Hallowe’en, ye ken, an’ a’ the witches an’ fairies are about this night an’ will grant any wish made. Try a charm, lassie.” “I did try one,” replied Mary with a sigh. “I burned the nuts, but it didna’ come out right; that’s what made me sad.” “Ah, weel, try anither; go pull a stock.” “Oh, nay, I’m afraid to go out in the field at night,” she replied timidly, drawing back. “But I’ll go if ye’ll come wi’ me.” She held out her hand to him.