The girl sat down, buried her face in her apron, and indulged in the rare luxury of tears.
"Yo're the cruellest mon as iver was, David M'Adam," she sobbed, rocking to and fro.
He was at her side in a moment, tenderly bending over her.
"Eh, Maggie, but I am sorry, lass--"
She wrenched away from beneath his hands.
"I hate yo'," she cried passionately.
He gently removed her hands from before her tear-stained face.
"I was nob'but laffin', Maggie," he pleaded; "say yo' forgie me."
