She raised her arm and rested it against the bark, then laid her forehead upon the warm molded flesh in the blue print sleeve.

For some moments she stayed so, with hidden face, unmoving against the bole of the tree, like a relief done of old by some wonderful artist.
The laird of Glenfernie, watching her, felt, such was his passion, the whole of earth and sky, the whole of time, draw to just this point, hang on just her movement and her word.
"Elspeth!" he cried at last.

"Elspeth!" Elspeth turned, but she stood yet against the tree.

Now both arms were lifted; she had for a moment the appearance of one who hung upon the tree.

Her eyes were wet, tears were upon her cheek.