Even the few dull remarks
that the slow-thinking Andrew made at intervals from his perch on the
front of the cart, seemed to come to her from the realm of Faerie, the
mysterious world that lay in the folds of the huddled hills. Everything
Maggie saw or heard that afternoon seemed to wear the glamour of God's
imagination, which is at once the birth and the very truth of everything.
Selfishness alone can rub away that divine gilding, without which gold
itself is poor indeed.
Suddenly the little horse stood still. Andrew, waking up from a snooze,
jumped to the ground, and began, still half asleep, to search into the
cause of the arrest; for Jess, although she could not make haste, never of
her own accord stood still while able to keep on walking. Maggie, on her
part, had for some time noted that they were making very slow progress.
"She's deid cripple!" said Andrew at length, straightening his long back
from an examination of Jess's fore feet, and coming to Maggie's side of the
cart with a serious face.
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