‘There, there!’ cried Miss Gillan, springing from her seat, with a lightness and activity such as he had never seen; ‘my song is done, and you shall not be kept waiting longer, and you shall come into the room, and tell me what you want.’ She put out her hands as if she would draw him in, and as he shyly advanced he saw her face. In one respect at least she was like her song, she resembled nothing that he had known before. She was small and dark, and in a black lace evening dress--it was the first time that he had seen an evening dress--whose sleeves left bare from the elbow her soft, brown arms, and whose lace rested softly upon the curves of her neck. Her hair, which was rippling, and very short and thick, was gathered into a loose, rough crown on her head; there was a golden tint in it in spite of its darkness, and although her eyebrows were very dark beneath. Her dark eyes shone till they seemed to ripple too; her lips, which were not small, were full and very red; and there was a lovely colour in her cheeks, which came and went easily through the darkness of her skin. She seemed altogether full of health and life, of the brilliant spirits of youth and loveliness, the only contradiction rested in her mouth, which could take curious expressions that gave her face an older look. Nat observed this for an instant as she looked steadily at him, but in the next moment her lips were radiant too. ‘Oh! tell me who you are, and why you have come,’ she cried;’ I have been so dull all the evening by myself! I am quite sure that you must have something good to say, but that is because I’m so glad to hear anything at all!’ Her manner was free, but not with village freedom; it did not make the lad shy, but it made him confused. With a feeling of caution to which he was not accustomed, he held out the basket without answering. She took it with surprise as if she had not expected it, and her dark eyes dwelt curiously on the handsome lad. ‘My basket!’ she said, ‘how did you come by that? I have been looking for it since yesterday. The little girl thought she had taken it down the village’--and there came a strange alteration in the expression of her face. Nat observed the change, and it seemed to him an accusation; he hastened to defend his family and himself. ‘Molly brought it down to us yestermorn,’ he said, vexed to find his voice thick and his face hot. ‘Mr Robson had sent some raspberries to us, and we thought that the basket must belong to him. But I saw your name in the corner of it, miss, an’ so I thought as I’d bring it up to you.’