Yet somehow she had got so beautiful
before she reached the house, that her aunt, who had come to see her,
called out,
"Losh! lassie! What hae ye been aboot? Ye hae a colour by ordinar'."
"That's easy accoontet for," said her mistress roguishly. "She was
stan'in' killoguin wi' a bonnie young lad an' a horse. I winna hae sic
doin's aboot my hoose, I can tell ye, lass."
Margaret Anderson flew into a passion, and abused her with many words,
which Annie, so far from resenting, scarcely even heard. At length she
ceased, and departed almost without an adieu. But what did it
matter?-???What did any earthly thing matter, if only Curly had not told
him?
Now, all that Curly had told Alec was that Annie was not engaged to
him.
So the days and nights passed, and Spring, the girl, changed into
Summer, the woman; and still Alec did not come.
One evening, when a wind that blew from the west, and seemed to smell
of the roses of the sunset, was filling her rosy heart with joy???-Annie
sat in a rough little seat, scarcely an arbour, at the bottom of a
garden of the true country order, where all the dear old-fashioned
glories of sweet-peas, cabbage-roses, larkspur, gardener's garters,
honesty, poppies, and peonies, grew in homely companionship with
gooseberry and currant bushes, with potatoes and pease.
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