romance and mystery and poetry.
"you see," she said a minute later, as if talking to herself, "i have no mother. i never saw her; at least, i cannot remember ever seeing her, and she was not scotch."
"no?" said douglas. "then we have something in common: my people on my father's side were scotch, but all my mother's people belong to the south."
"and mine, too," said the girl. "but what can it be to you?" and again she seemed to be thinking of something far away.
"do you know," said the young man, "you are the first person i have spoken to since morning? i have been on the tramp all the 