"I may be able to help ye, though I canna lat ye see a' at once.

It wad be an ill job for them 'at needs help, gien naebody could help them but them 'at kent a' aboot a thing." [Illustration: no title] Without a word, Aggie turned and led the way to the "but-end." An iron lamp, burning the coarsest of train oil, hung against the wall, and under that she had placed the one movable table in the kitchen, which was white as scouring could make it.

Upon it lay a slate and a book of algebra.
"My cousin Willie lent me the buik," said Aggie.
"What for didna ye come to me to len'ye ane?
I could hae gien ye a better nor that," expostulated Cosmo.
Aggie hesitated, but, open as the day, she did not hesitate long.
She turned her face from him, and answered, "I wantit to gie ye a surprise, Maister Cosmo.

Divna ye min' tellin' me ance 'at ye saw no rizzon hoo a lassie sudna un'erstan' jist as weel's a laddie.

I wantit to see whether ye was richt or wrang; an' as algebra luiket the maist oonlikly thing, I thoucht I wad taikle that, an' sae sattle the queston at ance.