the gray cripple, who had need to lean so heavily on his staff, and her
eye had not even a smile for the golden buttercups that glittered on dewy
meads alongside the barren road. 

Thus had they proceeded apart and silent till they had passed the second
milestone.  There, Waife, rousing from his own reveries, which were
perhaps yet more dreary than those of the dejected child, halted
abruptly, passed his hand once or twice rapidly over his forehead, and,
turning round to Sophy, looked into her face with great kindness as she
came slowly to his side. 

"You are sad, little one?" said he. 

"Very sad, Grandy." 

"And displeased with me? Yes, displeased that I have taken you suddenly
away from the pretty young gentleman, who was so kind to you, without
encouraging the chance that you were to meet with him again." 

"It was not like you, Grandy," answered Sophy; and her under-lip slightly