"Oh no, no! go on," cried Norman, "you can easily cross the water, it is scarcely above the soles of your shoes and see there are some big stones on which you can tread while you drag the carriage along on one side of them."

"I think I could do that if you were not in it," said f.a.n.n.y, "I must not let you, however, run the risk of wetting your feet; mamma objects to that as she is afraid of your catching cold. If you will cling round my neck, I will carry you across in my arms, and then I will go back and get the carriage."

"That will do very well," said Norman. "Lift me up! Be quick about it, and we shall soon be across."

f.a.n.n.y dragging the carriage to the edge of the stream took up Norman, and though he was a heavy weight for her to carry, still she thought that she could take him across in safety. She had to tread very carefully and slowly as the stream though shallow was wide and the stones uneven.

They had not gone many paces when Norman declared that she did not move fast enough.

"If I attempt to move faster I may let you fall," she answered.

"You had better not do that or mamma will be angry with you, and I am sure if you chose you could go faster than you are doing. Come, move on, move on," cried out the young tyrant, nourishing his stick, and ungrateful little boy that he was, he began to beat f.a.n.n.y with it knowing that she dare not let him fall.

"Keep quiet, Norman," she exclaimed, "it is very naughty of you! You will make me let you drop, though I should be very sorry to do so."

Norman looked wickedly in her face, and only hit her harder.

As he was flourishing his stick, he knocked off her hat--she caught it, however, but in doing so she very nearly let him drop into the water.

Still, though she begged and begged him to be quiet, he continued beating her, till after considerable exertions she reached dry ground in safety, and gladly put him down.

"Now, Norman," she exclaimed, "what do you deserve?"

"I do not care what I deserve, but I know that you had better not slap my face, for mamma was angry with you when you did so before, and papa says he won't allow anybody to beat me but himself, so just go and get the carriage as you said you would. You must not leave it there, somebody will run away with it, and I shall have to walk all the way home."

"Very well, do you stay where you are, and I will go and bring it across," said f.a.n.n.y.

Norman agreed to stop, and f.a.n.n.y went back carefully making her way over the stepping-stones. She found the task of dragging the carriage across without stepping into the water much greater than she had expected.

Norman shouted to her to make haste.

"I am doing my best, and cannot go faster," she answered.

"If you are not quicker I will stay here no longer," answered Norman.

Without stopping to see whether she did move faster, off he ran.

At that moment poor f.a.n.n.y's foot slipped, and before she could regain her balance, down she fell into the stream. In doing so she hurt her arm, and wet her clothes almost all over. Norman, instead of coming to help her, laughed heartily at her misfortune, and scampered away crying out, "It served you light, you should have come faster when I told you."

Poor f.a.n.n.y felt very much inclined to cry with vexation, but knowing that that would do no good, she managed to scramble up again, and as her feet were wet, she stepped on through the water, and soon got the carriage to the other side of the stream. As Norman did not come back to her, she ran after him, dragging it on.

"Norman! Norman!" she cried out, but instead of coming back, he made his way towards the cottage.

She had nearly overtaken him just as they had got close to it, when the door opened, and an old man appeared, followed by a little fair-haired child, much younger than Norman.

"What is the matter?" asked the old man, eyeing the two children whose voices he had heard.

"My young brother ran away from me, and I tumbled down and wet my frock," answered f.a.n.n.y.

"Come in, then, and dry yourself," said the old man.

"But I have wet my stockings and shoes," said f.a.n.n.y, "and they will take a long time to dry."

"I shall be happy to have your company, my pretty la.s.sie, as long as you like to stay," said the old man. "I ken ye are staying with Glen Tulloch and ony of his friends are welcome here."

"We are staying with Mr Maclean," answered f.a.n.n.y, "and were making an excursion over the moor, when we saw your cottage, and thought we should like to visit you."

"We call Mr Maclean Glen Tulloch about here, as that's the name of his house," answered the old man. "Come in! come in! We will soon get your wet shoes and stockings off, though I am afraid you must sit without any while they are drying, for Robby there has never had a pair to his feet, and my old slippers are too large for you, I have a notion."

f.a.n.n.y observed that though the old man used a few Scotch expressions, he spoke English perfectly. His dress, too, was more like that of a sailor than the costume worn by the surrounding peasantry.

Norman, who had also come into the house, stood while they were speaking, eyeing the little boy, without saying anything. At last, looking up at the old man, he asked, "Is that your son?"

"No, young gentleman, he is my grandson," was the answer, "he is the only one alive of all my family, and I am to him as father and mother, and nurse and playmate. Am I not, Robby?"

"Yes, grandfather," answered the child, looking up affectionately at the old man, "I do not want any one to play with but you."

"Would you not like a ride in our little carriage?" asked f.a.n.n.y. "As soon as my shoes and stockings are dry I shall be happy to draw you."

Robby nodded his head, and came near to f.a.n.n.y.

"Would you not like to go out and play with the young gentleman?" asked the old man.

"I do not want him," said Norman haughtily; "I am not accustomed to play with little brats of that sort."

"Oh, Norman, how can you say that?" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, very much annoyed.

"Is he your brother, young lady?" asked the old man, looking with a pitying eye on Norman, but not at all angry.

"Yes," said f.a.n.n.y.

"I should not have thought it. There is a wide difference between you, I see."

f.a.n.n.y did not quite understand him.

Norman sat himself down on a stool in the corner of the room, and folded his arms in the fashion which he adopted when he wished to be dignified.

"You have come a long way from Glen Tulloch, young lady, and I must see you safe back, for your young brother I have a notion is not likely to be much help to you," said the old man; "Robby, though he is very small, is accustomed to take care of the house, for I often have to leave him by himself."

f.a.n.n.y thanked him, for, recollecting the difficulties she encountered in coming, she felt somewhat anxious about the homeward journey, especially as Norman had behaved so ill, and very likely would continue in his present mood.

Her stockings were soon dry, but her boots took longer, and were somewhat stiff when she put them on. They were some which her mamma had brought her from Paris, and were not very well suited for walking in the Highlands.

"I am afraid I have nothing to offer you to eat suitable to your taste, young lady," said the old man, "though you must be hungry after your long journey. Robby and I live on 'brose' to our breakfast, dinner, and supper, but will you just take a cup of milk? it was fresh this morning, and you may want it after your walk."

f.a.n.n.y gladly accepted the old man's offer, and then looked at Norman.

The cup of milk greatly restored her. The old man, without saying a word, brought another and offered it to Norman.

The young gentleman took it without scarcely saying thank you. Again, the old man cast a look of compa.s.sion on him.