which stood open. It was probably Margaret's refuge for the night.

"Well," said the tutor, after they had been seated a few minutes,
and had had some talk about the weather--surely no despicable
subject after such a morning--the first of Spring--"well, how do you
like the English poet, Mr. Elginbrod?"

"Spier that at me this day week, Maister Sutherlan', an' I'll
aiblins answer ye; but no the nicht, no the nicht."

"What for no?" said Hugh, taking up the dialect.

"For ae thing, we're nae clean through wi' the auld sailor's story
yet; an' gin I hae learnt ae thing aboon anither, its no to pass
jeedgment upo' halves. I hae seen ill weather half the simmer, an'
a thrang corn-yard after an' a', an' that o' the best. No that I'm
ill pleased wi' the bonny ballant aither."

"Weel, will ye jist lat me read the lave o't till ye?"

"Wi' muckle pleesur, sir, an' mony thanks."

He showed Hugh how far they had got in the reading of the "Ancient
Mariner"; whereupon he took up the tale, and carried it on to the
end. He had some facility in reading with expression, and his few
affectations--for it must be confessed he was not free of such
faults--were not of a nature to strike uncritical hearers. When he
had finished, he looked up, and his eye chancing to light upon
Margaret first, he saw that her cheek was quite pale, and her eyes
overspread with the film, not of coming tears, but of emotion