“I s’ warran’ her ohn gane to the schuil ohn speirt in at the Castle the first thing i’ the mornin’, an’ seein’ gien the laird had ony eeran’ to the toon. Little cares she for the maister, gien onybody at the Hoose be in want o’ her!” “Is there naething I cud help ye wi’, Aggie, afore I gang?” asked Cosmo. “Somebody tellt me ye was tryin’ yer han’ at algebra.” “Naebody had ony business to tell ye ony sic a thing,” returned Aggie, rather angrily. “It’s no at the schuil I wad think o’ sic a ploy. They wad a’ lauch fine! But I _wad_ fain ken what’s intil the thing. I can_not_ un’erstan’ hoo fowk can coont wi’ letters an’ crosses an’ strokes in place o’ figgers. I hae been at it a haill ook noo--by mysel’, ye ken--an’ I’m nane nearer til ’t yet. I can add an’ subtrac’, accordin’ to the rules gien, but that’s no un’erstan’in’, an’ un’erstan’ I canna.” “I’m thinkin’ it’s something as gien _x_ was a horse, an’ _y_ was a coo, an’ _z_ was a cairt, or onything ither ye micht hae to ca’ ’t; an’ ye bargain awa’ aboot the _x_ an’ the _y_ and the _z_, an’ ley the horse i’ the stable, the coo i’ the byre, an’ the cairt i’ the shed, till ye hae sattlet a’.” “But ye ken aboot algebra”--she pronounced the word with the accent on the second syllable--“divna ye, maister Cosmo?” “Na, no the haif, nor the hun’ert pairt. I only ken eneuch to haud me gaein’ on to mair. A body maun hae learnt a heap o’ onything afore the licht breaks oot o’ ’t. Ye maun win throu’ the wa’ first. I doobt gien onybody un’erstan’s a thing oot an’ oot, sae lang ’s he’s no ready at a moment’s notice to gar anither see intil the hert o’ ’t; an’ I canna gar ye see what’s intil ’t the minute ye speir ’t at me!” “I’m thinkin’, hooever, Cosmo, a body maun be nearhan’ seein’ o’ himsel’ afore anither can lat him see onything.” “Ye may be richt there,” yielded Cosmo. “--But jist lat me see whaur ye are,” he went on. “I may be able to help ye, though I canna lat ye see a’ at once. It wad be an ill job for them ’at needs help, gien naebody could help them but them ’at kent a’ aboot a thing.” [Illustration: ALGEBRA.] Without a word, Aggie turned and led the way to the “but-end.” An iron lamp, burning the coarsest of train oil, hung against the wall, and under that she had placed the one movable table in the kitchen, which was white as scouring could make it. Upon it lay a slate and a book of algebra. “My cousin Willie lent me the buik,” said Aggie. “What for didna ye come to me to len’ ye ane? I could hae gien ye a better nor that,” expostulated Cosmo. Aggie hesitated, but, open as the day, she did not hesitate long. She turned her face from him, and answered,