amused her. And it was granted really with pleasure; for the old lady
spoke with those "accents of the mountain tongue" which this foolish
Hilary never recognized without a thrill at the heart.

"May be you think an old woman ought to take a cab, and not be
intruding upon strangers; but I am hale and hearty, and being only a
streets length from my own door, I dislike to waste unnecessary
shillings."

"Certainly," acquiesced Hilary, with a half sigh: shillings were only
too precious to her.

"I saw you in the boot shop, and you seemed the sort of young lady
who would do a kindness to an old body like me; so I said to myself,
'Ill ask her.'"

"I am glad you did." Poor girl! she felt unconsciously pleased at
finding herself still able to show a kindness to any body.

They walked on and on--it was certainly a long street's length--to
the stranger's door, and it took Hilary a good way round from hers;
but she said nothing of this, concluding, of course, that her
companion was unaware of where she lived; in which she was mistaken.
They stopped at last before a respectable house near Brunswick
Square, bearing a brass plate, with the words "Miss Balquidder."

"That is my name, and very much obliged to you, my dear. How it
rains! Ye're just drenched."

Hilary smiled and shook her damp shawl. "I shall take no harm. I am