The other Macalpine was a feeble woman, widowed and childless, to whom her honorable and kindly kindred had made up, so far as temporal matters went, the loss of husband and of children. She was rocking herself to and fro, and uttering now and then a low unconscious cry, as she brooded over the ruin of her friends, and her own helpless beggary. The firmament was utterly black, for her--she had no strength, no hope. Marjory and Anne lingered for some time, endeavoring to cheer and comfort these two helpless women. Mrs. Catherine's maids, carefully superintended by Jacky, had done everything they could to make them comfortable; and before the young ladies left the kitchen, Flora Macalpine had entered, and was at her aunt's side, telling of the reception Duncan and herself had met with at Woodsmuir, and how Mrs. Ferguson had half promised to take her into the nursery to be "bairn's-maid" to the little Fergusons. The old woman was a little comforted--very little; for if Flora was away in service, who could take care of her painful, declining years? Jacky followed Anne and Marjory out of the kitchen. They were absorbed with this matter of the ejectment, and so did not observe her. Marjory drew her companion to the library. "Do come in here, Anne. I don't want to go up stairs yet." They went in, Jacky following--she seemed determined not to lose the opportunity. "If ye please, Miss Anne--" "Well, Jacky?" Jacky hesitated--she did not know how to go on, so she repeated: "If ye please, Miss Anne--" and stopped again. "What is it, Jacky?" said Anne, "tell me." "If ye please, will ye let me go with ye, Miss Anne?" said Jacky, in a burst. "I ken how to--to behave mysel, and to attend to a lady, and I'll never give ye ony trouble, and I'll do whatever I'm bidden. Oh, Miss Anne, will ye let me go?" "What has put that into your head, Jacky?" exclaimed Anne. Jacky could not tell what had put it into her head, inasmuch as any explanation might have shown Anne that the singular elf before her had, by some intuition peculiar to herself, made very tolerable progress in the study of those important matters which of late had occupied so much of their thoughts, and hopes, and consultations in Merkland and the Tower: so she merely repeated: "Oh, if ye please, Miss Anne, will ye let me go?" Anne was somewhat puzzled. "You are too young to be my maid, Jacky," she said. "Oh, if ye please, Miss Anne, I ken how to do--and I'm no idle when there's ony purpose for't--and I aye do what I'm bidden, except--" Jacky hung her head, "except whiles." "But Anne wants a great big woman, like me, Jacky," said Marjory Falconer, laughing, "an old woman perhaps."