They were a good way off, with another larger burn between; but Gibbie whistled, and Oscar came flying to him.

Nicie looked up, gave a cry, and like a sheep to her lost lamb came running.
"Oh, missie!" she said, breathless, as she reached the opposite bank of the burn, and her tone had more than a touch of sorrowful reproach in it, "what garred ye rin awa' ?" "There was a road, Nicie, and I thought you would come after me." "I was a muckle geese, missie; but eh! I'm glaid I hae gotten ye.
Come awa' an' see my mother." "Yes, Nicie.

We'll tell her all about it.

You see I haven't got a mother to tell, so I will tell yours." From that hour Nicie's mother was a mother to Ginny as well.
"Anither o' 's lambs to feed!" she said to herself.
If a woman be a mother she may have plenty of children.
Never before had Ginny spent such a happy day, drunk such milk as Crummie's, or eaten such cakes as Janet's.

She saw no more of Gibbie: the moment she was safe, he and Oscar were off again to the sheep, for Robert was busy cutting peats that day, and Gibbie was in sole charge.