"I am the dochter o' an honest farmer, that lives down near the Tweed. His name is Arthur Græme; and my name--that is my maiden name--is Lucy Græme. He was ance accounted rich, and I was--no lang syne yet--considered to hae some claims to beauty--twa things that hae produced a' my wae. I was courted by the neighbourin farmers, wha vied wi' ane anither for my hand and my affections; but, as a prophet has nae credit in his ain country, sae neeborin lovers were little respeckit. The gree was born awa frae them by a perfect stranger, kenned neither to them nor to me. A young man, ca'ed, at that time at least, Hugh Kennedy, whase looks were, alas! his best recommendation, if I shouldna speak of a soft honeyed tongue, whase sounds were music to my ear, recommended himsel to me at a neighbouring fair, and took frae me, whether I wad or no, my silly affections. He had heard o' my father's siller, and he saw my blooming face; but he never had the courage to come to our house and court me honourably, as my other wooers were glad and proud to do. Yet--strange backslidin o' the human heart!--I wadna hae gien a stowen kiss o' Hugh Kennedy, among the beech groves o' Sunnybrae, for a' the flatterin, wooin, and braw presents o' the rest o' my lovers thegither. The mere circumstance o' the puir youth being banned, as he was (for his secret courtship was sune kenned), frae the very neeborin woods, bound him to my heart the closer and the firmer. Though twenty een were upon me as gleg as hawks, and I was watched like a convicted thief, I saw him, spoke to him, wept wi' him, lay in his dear arms, and got my tears kissed awa wi' his burning lips." Her throat got thick, and she paused. After some sobbing, she continued--