The scoundrel!" On the pretext of following Gibbie, Angus was only too glad to leave the room.

Then Mr.Galbraith upon his daughter.
"So, Jenny!" he said, with, his loose lips pulled out straight, "that is the sort of companion you choose when left to yourself!--a low, beggarly, insolent scamp!--scarcely the equal of the brutes he has the charge of!" "They're sheep, papa!" pleaded Ginevra, in a wail that rose almost to a scream.
"I do believe the girl is an idiot!" said her father, and turned from her contemptuously.
"I think I am, papa," she sobbed.

"Don't mind me.

Let me go away, and I will never trouble you any more." She would go to the mountain, she thought, and be a shepherdess with Gibbie.
Her father took her roughly by the arm, pushed her into a closet, locked the door, went and had his luncheon, and in the afternoon, having borrowed Snowball, took her just as she was, drove to meet the mail coach, and in the middle of the night was set down with her at the principal hotel in the city, whence the next morning he set out early to find a school where he might leave her and his responsibility with her.
When Gibbie knew himself beyond the hearing of Ginevra, his song died away, and he went home sad.

The gentle girl had stepped at once from the day into the dark, and he was troubled for her.