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He is coming here to-morrow, you
say, and Burton; but Burton isn't like Grey. He is proud and worldly,
and a little hard, I am afraid; but the boy, tell him how I love him;
try to make him understand, and when he comes to-morrow maybe he will
kiss me again. It will be for the last time. I shall never see him more.
But hark, what's that? Don't you hear bells? And there is the stamping
of feet at the door. Go, child, quickly, and not let them in here."
Hannah, too, heard the sound and the opening of the kitchen door, and
hurrying from her father's bedside, she called out, sharply:
"Who is it? Who's there?"
"My name is Norval, on the Grampian hills," was replied, in the
well-remembered voice of Grey, who continued, merrily, as he approached
her: "And you, dear Aunt Hannah, you are the dame with the wonderful
name which forward and backward still reads the same."
He did not attempt to waltz with her, as he had done with Lucy; he had
tried it once, but she went the wrong way, and he told her there was no
more dance in her than in the kitchen tongs.


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