CHAPTER X.
"You that are old," Falstaff reminds the Chief Justice, "consider not the capacities of us that are young." One afternoon Jean called for Pamela to take her to see Mrs.Hope.
It was a clear, blue-and-white day, with clouds scudding across the sky, and a cold, whistling wind that blew the fallen leaves along the dry roads--a day that made people walk smartly and gave the children apple-red cheeks and tangled curls.
Mhor and Peter were seated on The Rigs garden wall as Pamela and Jean came out of Hillview gate.

Peter wagged his tail in recognition, but Mhor made no sign of having seen his sister and her friend.
"Aren't you cold up there ?" Pamela asked him.
"Very cold," said Mhor, "but we can't come down.

We're on sentry duty on the city wall till sundown," and he shaded his eyes with his hand and pretended to peer into space for lurking foes.
Peter looked wistfully up at him and hunched himself against the scratched bare knees now blue with cold.
"When the sun touches the top of West Law," said Jean, pointing to a distant blue peak, "it has set.

See--there....

Now run in, sonny, and tell Mrs.M'Cosh to let you have some currant-loaf for tea.