ye a bit wi' ye: tak na ilka lass ye see for a born angel. Misdoobt
her a wee to begin wi'. Hing up yer jeedgment o' her a wee. Luik
to the moo' an' the e'en o' her."

"I thank ye," said Donal, with a smile, in which the woman spied the
sadness; "I'm no like to need the advice."

She looked at him pitifully, and paused.

"Gien ye come this gait again," she said, "ye'll no gang by my
door?"

"I wull no," replied Donal, and wishing her good-bye with a grateful
heart, betook himself to his journey.

He had not gone far when he found himself on a wide moor. He sat
down on a big stone, and began to turn things over in his mind.
This is how his thoughts went:

"I can never be the man I was! The thoucht o' my heart 's ta'en
frae me! I canna think aboot things as I used. There's naething
sae bonny as afore. Whan the life slips frae him, hoo can a man
gang on livin'! Yet I'm no deid--that's what maks the diffeeclety
o' the situation! Gien I war deid--weel, I kenna what than! I
doobt there wad be trible still, though some things micht be
lichter. But that's neither here nor there; I maun live; I hae nae
ch'ice; I didna mak mysel', an' I'm no gaein' to meddle wi' mysel'!
I think mair o' mysel' nor daur that!

"But there's ae question I maun sattle afore I gang farther--an'