swallow. The beggar on horseback could not bear to be thrust down so
low, or at the least of it, not by this young lady.

I followed, accordingly, and took off my new hat to her, the best that I
was able.

"Madam," said I, "I think it only fair to myself to let you understand I
have no Gaelic. It is true I was listening, for I have friends of my own
across the Highland line, and the sound of that tongue comes friendly;
but for your private affairs, if you had spoken Greek, I might have had
more guess at them."

She made me a little, distant curtsey. "There is no harm done," said
she, with a pretty accent, most like the English (but more agreeable).
"A cat may look at a king."

"I do not mean to offend," said I. "I have no skill of city manners; I
never before this day set foot inside the doors of Edinburgh. Take me
for a country lad--it's what I am; and I would rather I told you than
you found it out."

"Indeed, it will be a very unusual thing for strangers to be speaking to
each other on the causeway," she replied. "But if you are landward[2]
bred it will be different. I am as landward as yourself; I am Highland
as you see, and think myself the farther from my home."

"It is not yet a week since I passed the line," said I. "Less than a
week ago I was on the Braes of Balwhidder."

"Balwhither?" she cries; "come ye from Balwhither? The name of it makes