seizing the shawl with no gentle hand, and drawing it hastily from her shoulders; "ye are na' gangin' to those awfu' leeing creatures."
"I am," said Alice, resolutely.
"Girl, ye are mad—mad! I think the power o' the evil-eye is upon ye a'ready."
"It is your own work, grandmother. Remember always, if any harm come of it, it was you that sent me there; it was not my own choice to seek them—you drove me to it."
"What is it ye wad know, lass?" said the woman, brought to terms at last.
"I want to know the story of my birth—I want to know about my father; I have been kept blindfolded long enough. I want the whole story—and I want the truth."
"Alice," said the old woman sadly and reproachfully, "ye are unjust. For yer ain sake—to spare ye—I hae concealed the truth, that I ken too weel will gie ye sair pain; but niver in a' my life did I tell ye a lee."
"Very well," said Alice, coldly; "let us have an end of concealment now. Will you
