Then did Elspeth see what a wicked girl she had been, and when next the two were observed by the curious (it was on the cemetery road), they were once more looking cheerful.  At the smallest provocation they exchanged notes of admiration, such as, “Oh, Tommy, what a bonny barrel!” or “Oh, Elspeth, I tell yer that’s a dyke, and there’s just walls in London,” but sometimes Elspeth would stoop hastily, pretending that she wanted to tie her bootlace, but really to brush away a tear, and there were moments when Tommy hung very limp.  Each was trying to deceive the other for the other’s sake, and one of them was never good at deception.  They saw through each other, yet kept up the chilly game, because they could think of nothing better, and perhaps the game was worth playing, for love invented it.

They sat down on their mother’s grave.  No stone was ever erected to the memory of Jean Myles, but it is enough for her that she lies at home.  That comfort will last her to the Judgment Day.

The man who had dug the grave sent them away, and they wandered to the hill, and thence down the Roods, where there were so many outside stairs not put there for show that it was well Elspeth remembered how susceptible Tommy was to being struck dumb.  For her sake he said, “They’re bonny,” and for his sake she replied, “I’m glad they ain’t bonnier.”

When within one turn of Monypenny they came suddenly upon some boys playing at capey-dykey, a game with marbles that is only known in Thrums.  There are thirty-five ways of playing marbles, but this is the best way, and Elspeth knew that Tommy was hungering to look on, but without her, lest he should be accused of sweethearting.  So she offered to remain in the background.

Was she sure she shouldn’t mind?

She said falteringly that of course she would mind a little, but—­

Then Tommy was irritated, and said he knew she would mind, but if she just pretended she didn’t mind, he could leave her without feeling that he was mean.

So Elspeth affected not to mind, and then he deserted her, conscience at rest, which was his nature.  But he should have remained with her.  The players only gave him the side of their eye, and a horrid fear grew on him that they did not know he was a Thrums boy.  “Dagont!” he cried to put them right on that point, but though they paused in their game, it was only to laugh at him uproariously.  Let the historian use an oath for once; dagont, Tommy had said the swear in the wrong place!

How fond he had been of that word!  Many a time he had fired it in the face of Londoners, and the flash had often blinded them and always him.  Now he had brought it home, and Thrums would have none of it; it was as if these boys were jeering at their own flag.  He tottered away from them until he came to a trance, or passage, where he put his face to the wall and forgot even Elspeth.