busy, idle day took them on; they were now in bare, heathy country
with the breathing, winey air. Presently White Farm could be seen
among aspens, and beyond it the wooded mouth of the glen. Some one,
whistling, turned an elbow of the hill and caught up with the two. It
proved to be one several years their senior, a young man in the
holiday dress of a prosperous farmer. He whistled clearly an old
border air and walked without dragging or clumsiness. Coming up, he
ceased his whistling.

"Good day, the both of ye!"

"It's Robin Greenlaw," said Alexander, "from Littlefarm.--You've been
to the wedding, Robin?"

"Aye. Janet's some kind of a cousin. It's a braw day for a wedding!
You've got with you the new laird's nephew?--And how are you liking
Black Hill?"

"I like it."

"I suppose you miss grandeurs abune what ye've got there. I have a
liking myself," said Greenlaw, "for grandeurs, though we've none at
all at Littlefarm! That is to say, none that's just obvious. Are you
going to White Farm?"

Alexander answered: "I've a message from my father for Mr. Barrow. But
after that we're going through the glen. Will you come along?"

"I would," said Greenlaw, seriously, "if I had not on my best. But I
know how you, Alexander Jardine, take the devil's counsel about