When
she opened the door, the two women stood for a moment silently gazing on
each other--then the wife opened her arms wide, and the girl fled to their
shelter; but her strength failing her on the way, she fell to the floor.
Instantly the other was down by her side. The husband came to her help; and
between them they got her at once on the little couch.
"Shall I get the brandy?" said Mrs. Robertson.
"Try a cup of tea," he answered.
His wife made haste, and soon had the tea poured out and cooling. But Isy
still lay motionless. Her hostess raised the helpless head upon her arm,
put a spoonful of the tea to her lips, and found to her joy that she tried
to swallow it. The next minute she opened her eyes, and would have risen;
but the rescuing hand held her down.
"I want to tell ye," moaned Isy with feeble expostulation, "'at ye dinna
ken wha ye hae taen intil yer hoose! Lat me up to get my breath, or I'll no
be able to tell ye."
"Drink your tea," answered the other, "and then say what you like.
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