How mysterious she thought those long colonnades of slender pillars, each supporting its own waving comet-head of barley! Or when the sun was high, she would lie down on the ground, and look far into the little forest of yellow polished oat-stems, stretching away and away into the unseen--alas, so soon to fall, and leave a naked commonplace behind! If she were only small enough to go wandering about in it, what wonders might she not discover!--But I forget that I am telling a story, and not writing a fairy-tale .-- Unquestioned as uninvited, she was, as she had often been before, one of the company of reapers, gatherers, binders, and stookers, assembled to collect the living gold of the earth from the early fields of the farm of Howglen.

Sadly her thoughts went back to the old days when Dowie was master of the field, and she was Dowie's little mistress.

Not that she met with anything but kindness--only it was not the kindness she had had from Dowie.

But the pleasure of being once more near Alec almost made up for every loss.

And he was quite friendly, although, she must confess, not quite so familiar as of old.
But that did not matter, she assured herself.
The labourers all knew her, and themselves took care that she should have the portion of their food which her assistance had well earned, and which was all her wages.