'I would have brought thee twice as many, but that I feared to crush them in the narrow ways, Mistress Lorna.' And so I laid her out two dozen upon the moss of the rock-ledge, unwinding the wisp of hay from each as it came safe out of my pocket.
Lorna looked with growing wonder, as I added one to one; and when I had placed them side by side, and bidden her now to tell them, to my amazement what did she do but burst into a flood of tears.
'What have I done ?' I asked, with shame, scarce daring even to look at her, because her grief was not like Annie's--a thing that could be coaxed away, and left a joy in going--'oh, what have I done to vex you so ?' 'It is nothing done by you, Master Ridd,' she answered, very proudly, as if nought I did could matter; 'it is only something that comes upon me with the scent of the pure true clover-hay.

Moreover, you have been too kind; and I am not used to kindness.' Some sort of awkwardness was on me, at her words and weeping, as if I would like to say something, but feared to make things worse perhaps than they were already.

Therefore I abstained from speech, as I would in my own pain.

And as it happened, this was the way to make her tell me more about it.

Not that I was curious, beyond what pity urged me and the strange affairs around her; and now I gazed upon the floor, lest I should seem to watch her; but none the less for that I knew all that she was doing.
Lorna went a little way, as if she would not think of me nor care for one so careless; and all my heart gave a sudden jump, to go like a mad thing after her; until she turned of her own accord, and with a little sigh came back to me.