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diff --git a/43446.txt b/43446.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6695a98..0000000 --- a/43446.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6875 +0,0 @@ - WHITE HEATHER (VOL. III) - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: White Heather (Volume III of 3) - A Novel -Author: William Black -Release Date: August 11, 2013 [EBook #43446] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE HEATHER (VOLUME III OF -3) *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - WHITE HEATHER - - A Novel - - - BY - - WILLIAM BLACK - - AUTHOR OF 'MACLEOD OF DARE,' - 'JUDITH SHAKESPEARE,' ETC. - - - - _IN THREE VOLUMES_ - - VOL. III. - - - - London - MACMILLAN AND CO. - 1885 - - _The right of translation is reserved._ - - - - - Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh. - - - - - *CONTENTS OF VOL. III.* - - - CHAPTER I. - -A MESSAGE - - CHAPTER II. - -IN GLASGOW TOWN - - CHAPTER III. - -A RESOLVE - - CHAPTER IV. - -A BOLDER STEP - - CHAPTER V. - -A MEETING - - CHAPTER VI. - -CONFESSION - - CHAPTER VII. - -AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL - - CHAPTER VIII. - -THE COMING OF TROUBLES - - CHAPTER IX. - -IN OTHER CLIMES - - CHAPTER X. - -A CHALLENGE - - CHAPTER XI. - -A WEDDING - - CHAPTER XII. - -IN DARKENED WAYS - - CHAPTER XIII. - -IN ABSENCE - - CHAPTER XIV. - -WANDERINGS IN THE WEST - - CHAPTER XV. - -A PLEDGE REDEEMED - - CHAPTER XVI. - -THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN - - - - - *WHITE HEATHER.* - - - - *CHAPTER I.* - - *A MESSAGE.* - - -Clear and brilliant in their blue and white are these shining northern -skies; and the winds that come blowing over the moorland are -honey-scented from the heather; and the wide waters of the loch are all -of a ruffled and shimmering silver, with a thin fringe of foam along the -curving bays. And this is Love Meenie that comes out from the cottage -and comes down to the road; with perhaps less of the wild-rose tint in -her cheeks than used to be there, and less of the ready light of -gladness that used to leap into her blue-gray eyes; but still with that -constant gentleness of expression that seems to bring her into accord -with all the beautiful things in the landscape around her. And, indeed, -on this particular morning she is cheerful enough; walking briskly, -chatting to the ancient terrier that is trotting at her side, and -equably regarding now the velvet-soft shadows that steal along the -sunlit slopes of Clebrig, and now the wheeling and circling of some -peewits that have been startled from their marshy haunts by the side of -the stream. - -'And who knows but that there may be a message or a bit of news for us -this morning?' she says to the faithful Harry. 'For yonder comes the -mail. And indeed it's well for you, my good little chap, that you can't -understand how far away Glasgow is; I suppose you expect to see your -master at any minute, at every turn of the road. And if he should send -you a message--or Maggie either--how am I to tell you?' - -The pretty Nelly is at the door of the inn, scattering food to the -fowls. - -'It's a peautiful moarning, Miss Douglas,' she says. - -And here is Mr. Murray, with his pipe, and his occultly humorous air. - -'And are you come along for your letters, Miss Meenie?' he says. 'Ay, -ay, it is not an unusual thing for a young leddy to be anxious about a -letter--it is not an unusual thing at ahl.' - -And now the mail-car comes swinging up to the door; the one or two -passengers alight, glad to stretch their legs; the letter bags are -hauled down, and Miss Douglas follows them indoors. Mrs. Murray, who -acts as post-mistress, is not long in sorting out the contents. - -'Two for me?' says Meenie. 'And both from Glasgow? Well, now, that does -not often happen.' - -But of course she could not further interrupt the post-mistress in the -performance of her duties; so she put the letters in her pocket; passed -out from the inn and through the little crowd of loiterers; and made for -the high-road and for home. She was in no hurry to open these budgets -of news. Such things came but once in a while to this remote hamlet; -and when they did come they were leisurely and thoroughly perused--not -skimmed and thrown aside. Nevertheless when she got up to the high-road -she thought she would pause there for just a second, and run her eye -over the pages, lest there might be some mention of Ronald's name. She -had heard of him but little of late; and he had never once written to -her--perhaps he had no excuse for doing so. It was through Maggie that -from time to time she got news of him; and now it was Maggie's letter -that she opened first. - -Well, there was not much about Ronald. Maggie was at school; Ronald was -busy; he seldom came over to the minister's house. And so Meenie, with -a bit of a sigh, put that letter into her pocket, and turned to the -other. But now she was indifferent and careless. It was not likely -that her sister had anything to say about Ronald; for he had not yet -called at the house. Moreover, Mrs. Gemmill, from two or three -expressions she had used, did not seem anxious to make his acquaintance. - -And then the girl's breath caught, and she became suddenly pale. -'_Drinking himself to death, in the lowest of low company_'--these were -the words confronting her startled eyes; and the next instant she had -darted a glance along the road, and another back towards the inn, as if -with a sudden strange fear that some one had overseen. No, she was all -alone; with the quickly closed letter in her trembling hand; her brain -bewildered; her heart beating; and with a kind of terror on her face. -And then, rather blindly, she turned and walked away in the other -direction--not towards her own home; and still held the letter tightly -clasped, as if she feared that some one might get at this ghastly -secret. - -'_Ronald!--Ronald!_'--there was a cry of anguish in her heart; for this -was all too sharp and sudden an end to certain wistful dreams and -fancies. These were the dreams and fancies of long wakeful nights, when -she would lie and wonder what was the meaning of his farewell look -towards her; and wonder if he could guess that his going away was to -change all her life for her; and wonder whether, if all things were to -go well with him, he would come back and claim her love--that was there -awaiting him, and would always await him, whether he ever came back or -no. And sometimes, indeed, the morning light brought a joyous assurance -with it; she knew well why he had not ventured to hand her that -tell-tale message that he had actually written out and addressed to her; -but in the glad future, when he could come with greater confidence and -declare the truth--would she allow father, or mother, or any one else to -interfere? On these mornings the Mudal-Water seemed to laugh as it went -rippling by; it had a friendly sound; she could hear it - -_'Move the sweet forget-me-nots_ -_That grow for happy lovers.'_ - -And at such times her favourite and secret reading was of women who had -been bold and generous with their love; and she feared she had been -timid and had fallen in too easily with her mother's schemes for her; -but now that she understood herself better--now that her heart had -revealed itself plainly to her--surely, if ever that glad time were to -come--if ever she were to see him hasten along to the little -garden-gate--on the very first moment of his arrival--she would not -stint her welcome of him? White, white were the mornings on which such -fancies filled her head; and the Mudal laughed along its clear brown -shallows; and there was a kind of music in the moorland air. - -'_Drinking himself to death, in the lowest of low company:_' black night -seemed to have fallen upon her, and a wild bewilderment, and a crushing -sense of hopelessness that shut out for ever those fair visions of the -future. She did not stay to ask whether this might not be a woman's -exaggeration or the mere gossip of a straitlaced set; the blow had -fallen too suddenly to let her reason about it; she only knew that the -very pride of her life, the secret hope of her heart, had been in a -moment extinguished. And Ronald--Ronald that was ever the smartest and -handsomest of them all--the gayest and most audacious, the very king of -all the company whithersoever he went--was it this same Ronald who had -in so short a time become a bleared and besotted drunkard, shunning the -public ways, hiding in ignoble haunts, with the basest of creatures for -his only friends? And she--that had been so proud of him--that had been -so assured of his future--nay, that had given him the love of her life, -and had sworn to herself that, whether he ever came to claim it or no, -no other man should take his place in her heart--she it was who had -become possessed of this dreadful secret, while all the others were -still imagining that Ronald was as the Ronald of yore. She dared not go -back to Inver-Mudal--not yet, at least. She went away along the -highway; and then left that for a path that led alongside a small burn; -and by and by, when she came to a place where she was screened from all -observation by steep and wooded banks, she sat down there with some kind -of vague notion that she ought more carefully to read this terrible -news; but presently she had flung herself, face downward, on the -heather, in an utter agony of grief, and there she lay and sobbed and -cried, with her head buried in her hands. '_Ronald! Ronald!_' her -heart seemed to call aloud in its despair; but how was any appeal to be -carried to him--away to Glasgow town? And was this the end? Was he -never coming back? The proud young life that promised so fair to be -sucked under and whirled away in a black current; and as for her--for -her the memory of a few happy days spent on Mudal's banks, and years and -years of lonely thinking over what might have been. - -A sharp whistle startled her; and she sprang to her feet, and hastily -dried her eyes. A Gordon setter came ranging through the strip of -birch-wood, and then its companion; both dogs merely glanced at -her--they were far too intent on their immediate work to take further -notice. And then it quickly occurred to her that, if this were Lord -Ailine who was coming along, perhaps she might appeal to him--she might -beg of him to write to Ronald--or even to go to Glasgow--for had not -these two been companions and friends? And he was a man--he would know -what to do--what could she do, a helpless girl? Presently Lord Ailine -appeared, coming leisurely along the banks of the little stream in -company with a keeper and a young lad; and when he saw her, he raised -his cap and greeted her. - -'Don't let us disturb you, Miss Douglas,' said he. 'Gathering flowers -for the dinner-table, I suppose?' - -'I hope I have done no harm,' said she, though her mind was so agitated -that she scarcely knew what she said. 'I--I have not seen any birds--nor -a hare either.' - -'Harm? No, no,' he said good-naturedly. 'I hope your mamma is quite -well. There's a haunch of a roe-buck at the lodge that Duncan can take -along this afternoon----' - -'Your lordship,' said the keeper reprovingly, 'there's Bella drawing on -to something.' - -'Good morning, Miss Douglas,' he said quickly, and the next moment he -was off. - -But even during that brief interview she had instinctively arrived at -the conclusion that it was not for her to spread about this bruit in -Inver-Mudal. She could not. This news about Ronald to come from her -lips--with perhaps this or that keeper to carry it on to the inn and -make it the topic of general wonder there? They would hear of it soon -enough. But no one--not even any one in her own household--would be -able to guess what it meant to her; as yet she herself could hardly -realise it, except that all of a sudden her life seemed to have grown -dark. - -She had to get back to the cottage in time for the mid-day dinner, and -she sate at table there, pale and silent, and with a consciousness as of -guilt weighing upon her. She even did her best to eat something, in -order to avoid their remarks and looks; but she failed in that, and was -glad to get away as soon as she could to the privacy of her own room. - -'I'm sure I don't know what's the matter with Williamina,' Mrs. Douglas -said with a sigh. 'She has not been looking herself for many a day -back; and she seems going from bad to worse--she ate hardly a scrap at -dinner.' - -Of course it was for the Doctor to prescribe. - -'She wants a change,' he said. - -'A change,' the little dame retorted with some asperity, for this was a -sore subject with her. 'She would have had a change long before now, -but for her and you together. Three months ago I wanted her sent to -Glasgow----' - -'Glasgow--for any one in indifferent health--' the highland Doctor -managed to interpolate; but she would not listen. - -'I'm sure I don't understand the girl. She has no proper pride. Any -other girl in her position would be glad to have such chances, and eager -to make use of them. But no--she would sooner go looking after a lot of -cottar's children than set to work to qualify herself for taking her -proper place in society; and what is the use of my talking when you -encourage her in her idleness?' - -'I like to have the girl at home,' he said, rather feebly. - -'There,' she said, producing a letter and opening it--although he had -heard the contents a dozen times before. 'There it is--in black and -white--a distinct invitation. "Could you let Meenie come to us for a -month or six weeks when we go to Brighton in November?"' - -'Well,' said the good-natured Doctor, 'that would be a better kind of a -change. Sea-air--sunlight--plenty of society and amusement.' - -'She shall not go there, nor anywhere else, with my cousin and his -family, until she has fitted herself for taking such a position,' said -the little woman peremptorily. 'Sir Alexander is good-nature itself, -but I am not going to send him a half-educated Highland girl that he -would be ashamed of. Why, the best families in England go to Brighton -for the winter--every one is there. It would be worse than sending her -to London. And what does this month or six weeks mean?--Surely it is -plain enough. They want to try her. They want to see what her -accomplishments are. They want to see whether they can take her abroad -with them, and present her at Paris and Florence and Rome. Every year -now Sir Alexander goes abroad at Christmas time; and of course if she -satisfied them she would be asked to go also--and there, think of that -chance!' - -'The girl is well enough,' said he. - -She was on the point of retorting that, as far as he knew anything about -the matter, Williamina was well enough. But she spared him. - -'No, she has no proper pride,' the little Dresden-china woman continued. -'And just now, when everything is in her favour. Agatha never had such -chances. Agatha never had Williamina's good looks. Of course, I say -nothing against Mr. Gemmill--he is a highly respectable man--and if the -business is going on as they say it is going, I don't see why they -should not leave Queen's Crescent and take a larger house--up by the -West End Park. And he is an intelligent man, too; the society they have -is clever and intellectual--you saw in Agatha's last letter about the -artists' party she had--why, their names are in every newspaper--quite -distinguished people, in that way of life. And, at all events, it would -be a beginning. Williamina would learn something. Agatha is a perfect -musician--you can't deny that.' - -But here the big Doctor rebelled; and he brought the weight of his -professional authority to bear upon her. - -'Now, look here, Jane, when I said that the girl wanted a change, I -meant a change; but not a change to singing-lessons, and music-lessons, -and German lessons, and Italian lessons, and not a change to an -atmosphere like that of Glasgow. Bless my soul, do you think _that_ -kind of change will bring back the colour to her cheek, and give her an -appetite, and put some kind of cheerfulness into her? Queen's Crescent! -She's not going to Queen's Crescent with my will. Brighton, if you -like.' - -'Brighton? To get herself laughed at, and put in the background, as a -half-educated ignorant Highland peasant girl? So long as she is what -she is, she shall not go to Brighton with my will.' - -So here was an absolute dead-lock so far as Meenie's future was -concerned; but she knew nothing of it; and if she had known she would -not have heeded much. It was not of her own future she was thinking. -And it seemed so terrible to her to know that there was nothing she -would not have adventured to save this man from destruction, and to know -that she was incapable of doing anything at all. If she could but see -him for a moment--to make an appeal to him; if she could but take his -hand in hers; would she not say that there had been timidity, doubt, -misapprehension in the past, but that now there was no time for any of -these; she had come to claim him and save him and restore him to -himself--no matter what he might think of her? Indeed she tried to put -all thought of herself out of the matter. She would allow no self-pride -to interfere, if only she could be of the smallest aid to him, if she -could stretch out her hand to him, and appeal to him, and drag him back. -But how? She seemed so helpless. And yet her anxiety drove her to the -consideration of a hundred wild and impossible schemes, insomuch that -she could not rest in her own room, to which she had retreated for -safety and quiet. She put on her bonnet again and went out--still with -that guilty consciousness of a secret hanging over her; and she went -down the road and over the bridge; and then away up the solitary valley -through which the Mudal flows. Alas! there was no laughing over the -brown shallows now; there was no thinking of - - _'the sweet forget-me-nots,_ -_That grow for happy lovers';_ - -all had become dark around her; and the giant grasp of Glasgow had taken -him away from her, and dragged him down, and blotted out for ever the -visions of a not impossible future with which she had been wont to -beguile the solitary hours. '_Drinking himself to death, in the lowest -of low company:_' could this be Ronald, that but a few months ago had -been the gayest of any, with audacious talk of what he was going to try -for, with health and happiness radiant in his eyes? And it seemed to -her that her sister Agatha had been proud of writing these words, and -proud of the underlining of them, and that there was a kind of vengeance -in them; and the girl's mouth was shut hard; and she was making vague -and fierce resolutions of showing to all of them--far and near--that she -was not ashamed of her regard for Ronald Strang, gamekeeper or no -gamekeeper, if ever the chance should serve. Ashamed! He had been for -her the very king of men--in his generosity, his courage, his -gentleness, his manliness, his modesty, and his staunch and unfaltering -fealty to his friends. And was he to fall away from that ideal, and to -become a wreck, a waif, an outcast; and she to stand by and not stretch -out a hand to save? - -But what could she do? All the day she pondered; all the evening; and -through the long, silent, and wakeful night. And when, at last, as the -gray of the dawn showed in the small window, she had selected one of -these hundred bewildered plans and schemes, it seemed a fantastic thing -that she was about to do. She would send him a piece of white heather. -He would know it came from her--he would recognise the postmark, and -also her handwriting. And if he took it as a message and an appeal, as a -token of good wishes and friendliness, and the hope of better fortune? -Or if--and here she fell a-trembling, for it was a little cold in these -early hours--if he should take it as a confession, as an unmaidenly -declaration? Oh, she did not care. It was all she could think of -doing; and do something she must. And she remembered with a timid and -nervous joy her own acknowledged influence over him--had not Maggie -talked of it a thousand times?--and if he were to recognise this message -in its true light, what then? '_Ronald! Ronald!_' her heart was still -calling, with something of a tremulous hope amid all its grief and pity. - -She was out and abroad over the moorland long before any one was astir, -and searching with an anxious diligence, and as yet without success. -White heather is not so frequently met with in the North as in the West -Highlands; and yet in Sutherlandshire it is not an absolute rarity; many -a time had she come across a little tuft of it in her wanderings over -the moors. But now, search as she might, she could not find the -smallest bit; and time began to press; for this was the morning for the -mail to go south--if she missed it, she would have to wait two more -days. And as half-hour after half-hour went by, she became more anxious -and nervous and agitated; she went rapidly from knoll to knoll, seeking -the likeliest places; and all in vain. It was a question of minutes -now. She could hear the mail-cart on the road behind her; soon it would -pass her and go on to the inn, where it would remain but a brief while -before setting out again for Lairg. And presently, when the mail-cart -did come along and go by, then she gave up the quest in despair; and in -a kind of bewildered way set out for home. Her heart was heavy and full -of its disappointment; and her face was paler a little than usual; but -at least her eyes told no tales. - -And then, all of a sudden, as she was crossing the Mudal bridge, she -caught sight of a little tuft of gray away along the bank and not far -from the edge of the stream. At first she thought it was merely a patch -of withered heather; and then a wild hope possessed her; she quickly -left the bridge and made her way towards it; and the next moment she was -joyfully down on her knees, selecting the whitest spray she could find. -And the mail-cart?--it would still be at the inn--the inn was little -more than half a mile off--could she run hard and intercept them after -all, and send her white-dove message away to the south? To think of it -was to try it, at all events; and she ran as no town-bred girl ever ran -in her life--past the Doctor's cottage, along the wide and empty road, -past the keeper's house and the kennels, across the bridge that spans -the little burn. Alas! there was the mail-cart already on its way. - -'Johnnie, Johnnie!' she called. - -Happily the wind was blowing towards him; he heard, looked back, and -pulled up his horses. - -'Wait a minute--I have a letter for you to take!' she called, though her -strength was all gone now. - -And yet she managed to get quickly down to the inn, and astonished Mrs. -Murray by breathlessly begging for an envelope. - -'Tell Nelly--tell Nelly,' she said, while her trembling fingers wrote -the address, 'to come and take this to the mail-cart--they're -waiting--Johnnie will post it at Lairg.' - -And then, when she had finished the tremulous address, and carefully -dried it with the blotting-paper, and given the little package to Nelly, -and bade her run--quick, quick--to hand it to the driver, then the girl -sank back in the chair and began laughing in a strange, half-hysterical -way, and then that became a burst of crying, with her face hidden in her -hands. But the good-hearted Mrs. Murray was there; and her arms were -round the girl's neck; and she was saying, in her gentle Highland way-- - -'Well, well, now, to think you should hef had such a run to catch the -mail-cart--and no wonder you are dead-beat--ay, ay, and you not looking -so well of late, Miss Meenie. But you will just rest here a while; and -Nelly will get you some tea; and there is no need for you to go back -home until you have come to yourself better. No, you hef not been -looking well lately; and you must not tire yourself like this--dear me, -the place would be quite different althogether if anything was to make -you ill.' - - - - - *CHAPTER II.* - - *IN GLASGOW TOWN.* - - -It was as late as half-past ten o'clock--and on a sufficiently gray and -dull and cheerless morning--that Ronald's landlady, surprised not to -have heard him stirring, knocked at his room. There was no answer. -Then she knocked again, opened the door an inch or two, and dropped a -letter on the floor. - -'Are ye no up yet?' - -The sound of her voice aroused him. - -'In a minute, woman,' he said sleepily; and, being thus satisfied, the -landlady went off, shutting the door behind her. - -He rose in the bed and looked around him, in a dazed fashion. He was -already partially dressed, for he had been up two hours before, but had -thrown himself down on the bed again, over-fatigued, half-stupefied, and -altogether discontented. The fact is, he had come home the night before -in a reckless mood, and had sate on through hour after hour until it was -nearly dawn, harassing himself with idle dreams and idle regrets, -drinking to drown care, smoking incessantly, sometimes scrawling -half-scornful rhymes. There were all the evidences now on the table -before him--a whisky-bottle, a tumbler, a wooden pipe and plenty of -ashes, a sheet of paper scrawled over in an uncertain hand. He took up -that sheet to recall what he had written: - -_King Death came striding along the road,_ - _And he laughed aloud to see_ -_How every rich man's mother's son_ - _Would take to his heels and flee._ - -_Duke, lord, or merchant, off they skipped,_ - _Whenever that he drew near;_ -_And they dropped their guineas as wild they ran,_ - _And their faces were white with fear._ - -_But the poor folk labouring in the fields_ - _Watched him as he passed by;_ -_And they took lo their spades and mattocks again,_ - _And turned to their work with a sigh._ - -_Then farther along the road he saw_ - _An old man sitting alone;_ -_His head lay heavy upon his hands,_ - _And sorrowful was his moan._ - -_Old age had shrivelled and bent his frame;_ - _Age and hard work together_ -_Had scattered his locks, and bleared his eyes--_ - _Age and the winter weather._ - -_'Old man,' said Death, 'do you tremble to know_ - _That now you are near the end?'_ -_The old man looked: 'You are Death,' said he,_ - _'And at last I've found a friend.'_ - - -It was a strange kind of mood for a young fellow to have fallen into; -but he did not seem to think so. As he contemplated the scrawled -lines--with rather an absent and preoccupied air--this was what he was -saying to himself-- - -'If the old gentleman would only come striding along the Port Dundas -Road, I know one that would be glad enough to go out and meet him and -shake hands with him, this very minute.' - -He went to the window and threw it open, and sate down: the outer air -would be pleasanter than this inner atmosphere, impregnated with the -fumes of whisky and tobacco; and his head was burning, and his pulses -heavy. But the dreariness of this outlook!--the gray pavements, the gray -railway station, the gray sheds, the gray skies; and evermore the dull -slumberous sound of the great city already plunged in its multitudinous -daily toil. Then he began to recall the events of the preceding -evening; and had not Mrs. Menzies promised to call for him, about -eleven, to drive him out to see some of her acquaintances at Milngavie? -Well, it would be something to do; it would be a relief to get into the -fresher air--to get away from this hopeless and melancholy -neighbourhood. Kate Menzies had high spirits; she could laugh away -remorse and discontent and depression; she could make the hours go by -somehow. And now, as it was almost eleven, he would finish his dressing -and be ready to set out when she called; as for breakfast, no thought of -that entered his mind. - -Then he chanced to see something white lying on the floor--an -envelope--perhaps this was a note from Kate, saying she was too busy -that morning and could not come for him? He went and took up the -letter; and instantly--as he regarded the address on it--a kind of -bewilderment, almost of fear, appeared on his face. For well he knew -Meenie's handwriting: had he not pondered over every characteristic of -it--the precise small neatness of it, the long loops of the _l_'s, the -German look of the capital R? And why should Meenie write to him? - -He opened the envelope and took out the bit of white heather that Meenie -had so hastily despatched: there was no message, not the smallest scrap -of writing. But was not this a message--and full of import, too; for -surely Meenie would not have adopted this means of communicating with -him at the mere instigation of an idle fancy? And why should she have -sent it--and at this moment? Had she heard, then? Had any gossip about -him reached Inver-Mudal? And how much had she heard? There was a kind -of terror in his heart as he went slowly back to the window, and sate -down there, still staring absently at this token that had been sent him, -and trying hard to make out the meaning of it. What was in Meenie's -mind? What was her intention? Not merely to give him a sprig of white -heather with wishes for good luck; there was more than that, as he -easily guessed; but how much more? And at first there was little of joy -or gladness or gratitude in his thinking; there was rather fear, and a -wondering as to what Meenie had heard of him, and a sickening sense of -shame. The white gentleness of the message did not strike him; it was -rather a reproach--a recalling of other days--Meenie's eyes were -regarding him with proud indignation--this was all she had to say to him -now. - -A man's voice was heard outside; the door was brusquely opened; Jimmy -Laidlaw appeared. - -'What, man, no ready yet? Are ye just out o' your bed? Where's your -breakfast? Dinna ye ken it's eleven o'clock?' - -Ronald regarded him with no friendly eye. He wished to be alone; there -was much to think of; there was more in his mind than the prospect of a -rattling, devil-may-care drive out to Milngavie. - -'Is Kate below?' said he. - -'She is that. Look sharp, man, and get on your coat. She doesna like to -keep the cob standing.' - -'Look here, Laidlaw,' Ronald said, 'I wish ye would do me a good turn. -Tell her that--that I'll be obliged if she will excuse me; I'm no up to -the mark; ye'll have a merrier time of it if ye go by yourselves; there -now, like a good fellow, make it straight wi' her.' - -'Do ye want her to jump doon ma throat?' retorted Mr. Laidlaw, with a -laugh. 'I'll tak' no sic message. Come, come, man, pull yoursel' -thegither. What's the matter? Hammer and tongs in your head?--the -fresh air 'll drive that away. Come along!' - -'The last word's the shortest,' Ronald said stubbornly. 'I'm not going. -Tell her not to take it ill--I'm--I'm obliged to her, tell her----' - -'Indeed, I'll leave you and her to fight it out between ye,' said -Laidlaw. 'D'ye think I want the woman to snap my head off?' - -He left, and Ronald fondly hoped that they would drive away and leave -him to himself. But presently there was a light tapping at the door. - -'Ronald!' - -He recognised the voice, and he managed to throw a coat over his -shoulders--just as Kate Menzies, without further ceremony, made her -appearance. - -'What's this now?' exclaimed the buxom widow--who was as radiant and -good-natured and smartly dressed as ever--'what does this daft fellow -Laidlaw mean by bringing me a message like that? I ken ye better, -Ronald, my lad. Down in the mouth?--take a hair o' the dog that bit ye. -Here, see, I'll pour it out for ye.' - -She went straight to the bottle, uncorked it, and poured out about a -third of a tumblerful of whisky. - -'Ronald, Ronald, ye're an ill lad to want this in the morning; but what -must be, must; here, put some life into ye. The day'll be just splendid -outside the town; and old Jaap's with us too; and I've got a hamper; and -somewhere or other we'll camp out, like a band of gypsies. Dinna fear, -lad; I'll no drag ye into the MacDougals' house until we're on the way -back; and then it'll just be a cup o' tea and a look at the bairns, and -on we drive again to the town. What's the matter? Come on, my -lad!--we'll have a try at "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen" when we get away frae -the houses.' - -'Katie, lass,' said he, rather shamefacedly, 'I'm--I'm sorry that I -promised--but I'll take it kind of ye to excuse me--I'm no in the humour -someway--and ye'll be better by yourselves----' - -'Ay, and what good 'll ye do by pu'ing a wry mouth?' said she -tauntingly. '"The devil was ill, the devil a saint would be." Here, -man! it's no the best medicine, but it's better than none.' - -She took the whisky to him, and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. -There was a gleam of sullen fire in his eye. - -'It's ill done of ye, woman, to drive a man against his will,' he said, -and he retreated from her a step or two. - -'Oh,' said she proudly, and she threw the whisky into the coal-scuttle, -and slammed the tumbler down on the table, for she had a temper too, 'if -ye'll no be coaxed, there's them that will. If that's what Long John -does for your temper, I'd advise you to change and try Talisker. Good -morning to ye, my braw lad, and thank ye for your courtesy.' - -She stalked from the room, and banged the door behind her when she left. -But she was really a good-hearted kind of creature; before she had -reached the outer door she had recovered herself; and she turned and -came into the room again, a single step or so. - -'Ronald,' she said, in quite a different voice, 'it 'll no be for your -good to quarrel wi' me-- - -'I wish for no quarrel wi' ye, Katie, woman----' - -'For I look better after ye than some o' them. If ye'll no come for the -drive, will ye look in in the afternoon or at night, if it suits ye -better? Seven o'clock, say--to show that there's no ill feeling between -us.' - -'Yes, I will,' said he--mainly to get rid of her; for, indeed, he could -scarcely hear what she was saying to him for thinking of this strange -and mysterious message that had come to him from Meenie. - -And then, when she had gone, he rapidly washed and dressed, and went -away out from the house--out by the Cowcaddens, and Shamrock Street, and -West Prince's Street, and over the Kelvin, and up to Hillhead, to -certain solitary thoroughfares he had discovered in his devious -wanderings; and all the time he was busy with various interpretations of -this message from Meenie and of her reasons for sending it. At first, -as has been said, there was nothing for him but shame and -self-abasement; this was a reproach; she had heard of the condition into -which he had fallen; this was to remind him of what had been. And -indeed, it was now for the first time that he began to be conscious of -what that condition was. He had fled to those boon-companions as a kind -of refuge from the hopelessness of the weary hours, from the despair -with regard to the future that had settled down over his life. He had -laughed, drunk, smoked, and sung the time away, glad to forget. When -haunting memories came to rebuke, then there was a call for another -glass, another song. Nay, he could even make apologies to himself when -the immediate excitement was over. Why should he do otherwise? The -dreams conjured up by the Americans had no more charms for him. Why -should he work towards some future that had no interest for him? - -_Death is the end of life; ah, why_ -_Should life all labour be?_ - -And so Kate Menzies's dog-cart became a pleasant thing, as it rattled -along the hard stony roads; and many a merry glass they had at the -wayside inns; and then home again in the evening to supper, and singing, -and a good-night bacchanalian festival at the Harmony Club. The hours -passed; he did not wish to think of what his life had become; enough if, -for the time being, he could banish the horrors of the aching head, the -hot pulse, the trembling hands. - -But if Meenie had heard of all this, how would it appear to her? and he -made no doubt that she had heard. It was some powerful motive that had -prompted her to do this thing. He knew that her sister had been making -inquiries about him; his brother's congregation was a hot-bed of gossip; -if any news of him had been sent by that agency, no doubt it was the -worst. And still Meenie did not turn away from him with a shudder? He -took out the envelope again. What could she mean? Might he dare to -think it was this--that, no matter what had happened, or what she had -heard, she still had some little faith in him, that the recollection of -their old friendship was not all gone away? Reproach it might be--but -perhaps also an appeal? And if Meenie had still some interest in what -happened to him----? - -He would go no farther than that. It was characteristic of the man -that, even with this white token of goodwill and remembrance and good -wishes before his eyes--with this unusual message just sent to him from -one who was generally so shy and reserved--he permitted to himself no -wildly daring fancies or bewildering hopes. Nor had the majesty of the -Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay anything to do with this restraint: it -was the respect that he paid to Meenie herself. And yet--and yet this -was a friendly token; it seemed to make the day whiter somehow; it was -with no ill-will she had been thinking of him when she gathered it from -one of the knolls at the foot of Clebrig or from the banks of -Mudal-Water. So white and fresh it was; it spoke of clear skies and -sweet moorland winds: and there seemed to be the soft touch of her -fingers still on it as she had pressed it into the envelope; and it was -Meenie's own small white hand that had written that rather trembling -'_Mr. Ronald Strang_.' A gentle message; he grew to think that there -was less of reproach in it; if she had heard evil tidings of him, -perhaps she was sorry more than anything else; Meenie's eyes might have -sorrow in them and pain, but anger--never. And her heart--well, surely -her heart could not have been set bitterly against him, or she would not -have sent him this mute little token of remembrance, as if to recall the -olden days. - -And then he rose and drove against the bars that caged him in. Why -should the ghastly farce be played any longer? Why should he go through -that dull mechanical routine in which he had no interest whatever? Let -others make what money they choose; let others push forward to any -future that they might think desirable; let them aim at being first in -the world's fight for wealth, and having saloon-carriages, and -steam-yachts on Lake Michigan, and cat-boats on Lake George: but as for -him, if Lord Ailine, now, would only let him go back to the little -hamlet in the northern wilds, and give him charge of the dogs again, and -freedom to ask Dr. Douglas to go with him for a turn at the mountain -hares or for a day's salmon-fishing on the Mudal--in short, if only he -could get back to his old life again, with fair skies over him, and -fresh blowing winds around him, and wholesome blood running cheerily -through his veins? And then the chance, at some hour or other of the -long day, of meeting Meenie, and finding the beautiful, timid, Highland -eyes fixed on his: 'Are you going along to the inn, Ronald?' he could -almost hear her say. 'And will you be so kind as to take these letters -for me?' - -But contracted habits are not so easily shaken off as all that; and he -was sick and ill at ease; and when the hour came for him to go down and -see Kate Menzies and her friends, perhaps he was not altogether sorry -that he had made a definite promise which he was bound to keep. He left -the envelope, with its piece of white heather, at home. - -Nevertheless, he was rather dull, they thought; and there was some -facetious raillery over his not having yet recovered from the frolic of -the previous night; with frequent invitations to take a hair of the dog -that had bitten him. Kate was the kindest; she had been a little alarmed -by the definite repugnance he had shown in the morning; she was glad to -be friends with him again. As for him--well, he was as good-natured as -ever; but rather absent in manner; for sometimes, amid all their -boisterous _camaraderie_, he absolutely forgot what they were saying; -and in a kind of dream he seemed to see before him the sunlit -Strath-Terry, and the blue waters of the loch, and Mudal's stream -winding through the solitary moorland waste--and a young girl there -stooping to pick up something from the heather. - - - - - *CHAPTER III.* - - *A RESOLVE.* - - -The days passed; no answer came to that mute message of hers; nay, how -could she expect any answer? But these were terrible days to her--of -mental torture, and heart-searching, and unceasing and unsatisfied -longing, and yearning, and pity. And then out of all this confusion of -thinking and suffering there gradually grew up a clear and definite -resolve. What if she were to make of that bit of white heather but an -_avant-courier_? What if she were herself to go to Glasgow, and seek -him out, and confront him, and take him by the hand? She had not -overrated her old influence with him: well she knew that. And how could -she stand by idle and allow him to perish? The token she had sent him -must have told him of her thinking of him; he would be prepared; perhaps -he would even guess that she had come to Glasgow for his sake? Well, -she did not mind that much; Ronald would have gentle thoughts of her, -whatever happened; and this need was far too sore and pressing to permit -of timid and sensitive hesitations. - -One morning she went to her father's room and tapped at the door. - -'Come in!' - -She was rather pale as she entered. - -'Father,' she said, 'I would like to go to Glasgow for a while.' - -Her father turned in his chair and regarded her. - -'What's the matter with ye, my girl?' he said. 'You've not been looking -yourself at all for some time back, and these last few days you've -practically eaten nothing. And yet your mother declares there's nothing -the matter. Glasgow? I dare say a change would do you good--cheer you -up a bit, and that; but--Glasgow? More schooling, more fees, that would -be the chief result, I imagine; and that's what your mother's driving -at. I think it's nonsense: you're a grown woman; you've learned -everything that will ever be of any use to you.' - -'I ought to have, any way, by this time,' Meenie said simply. 'And -indeed it is not for that, father. I--I should like to go to Glasgow -for a while.' - -'There's Lady Stuart would have ye stay with them at Brighton for a few -weeks; but your mother seems to think you should go amongst them as a -kind of Mezzofanti--it's precious little of that there's about Sir -Alexander, as I know well. However, if you're not to go to them until -you are polished out of all human shape and likeness, I suppose I must -say nothing----' - -'But I would rather go and stay with Agatha, father,' the girl said. - -He looked at her again. - -'Well,' said he, 'I do think something must be done. It would be a fine -thing for you--you of all creatures in the world--to sink into a -hopeless anaemic condition. Lassie, where's that eldritch laugh o' yours -gone to? And I see you go dawdling along the road--you that could beat -a young roedeer if you were to try. Glasgow?--well, I'll see what your -mother says.' - -'Thank you, father,' she said, but she did not leave at once. 'I think -I heard you say that Mr. Blair was going south on Monday,' she timidly -suggested. - -This Mr. Blair was a U.P. minister from Glasgow, who was taking a -well-earned holiday up at Tongue--fishing in the various lochs in that -neighbourhood--and who was known to the Douglases. - -'You're in a deuce of a hurry, Miss,' her father said, but -good-naturedly enough. 'You mean you could go to Glasgow under his -escort?' - -'Yes.' - -'Well, I will see what your mother says--I suppose she will be for -making a fuss over the necessary preparations.' - -But this promise and half permission had instantly brought to the girl a -kind of frail and wandering joy and hope; and there was a brief smile on -her face as she said-- - -'Well, you know, father, if I have to get any things I ought to get them -in Glasgow. The preparations at Inver-Mudal can't take much time.' - -'I will see what your mother thinks about it,' said the big, -good-humoured Doctor, who was cautious about assenting to anything until -the ruler and lawgiver of the house had been consulted. - -The time was short, but the chance of sending Meenie to Glasgow under -charge of the Rev. Mr. Blair was opportune; and Mrs. Douglas had no -scruple about making use of this temporary concern on the part of her -husband about Meenie's health for the working out of her own ends. Of -course the girl was only going away to be brightened up by a little -society. The change of air might possibly do her good. There could be -no doubt she had been looking ill; and in her sister's house she would -have every attention paid her, quite as much as if she were in her own -home. All the same, Mrs. Douglas was resolved that this opportunity for -finally fitting Meenie for that sphere in which she hoped to see her -move should not be lost. Agatha should have private instructions. And -Agatha herself was a skilled musician. Moreover, some little -society--of a kind--met at Mr. Gemmill's house; the time would not be -entirely lost, even if a little economy in the matter of fees was -practised, in deference to the prejudices and dense obtuseness of one -who ought to have seen more clearly his duty in this matter--that is to -say, of Meenie's father. - -And so it was that, when the Monday morning came round, Meenie had said -good-bye to every one she knew, and was ready to set out for the south. -Not that she was going by the mail. Oh no, Mr. Murray would not hear of -that, nor yet of her being sent in her father's little trap. No; Mr. -Murray placed his own large waggonette and a pair of horses at her -disposal; and when the mail-cart came along from Tongue, Mr. Blair's -luggage was quickly transferred to the more stately vehicle, and -immediately they started. She did not look like a girl going away for a -holiday. She was pale rather, and silent; and Mr. Blair, who had -memories of her as a bright, merry, clear-eyed lass, could not -understand why she should be apparently so cast down at the thought of -leaving her father's home for a mere month or so. As for old John -Murray, he went into the inn, grumbling and discontented. - -'It is a strange thing,' he said,--for he was grieved and offended at -their sending Meenie away, and he knew that Inver-Mudal would be a quite -different place with her not there,--'a strange thing indeed to send a -young girl away to Glasgow to get back the roses into her cheeks. Ay, -will she get them there? A strange thing indeed. And her father a -doctor too. It is just a teffle of a piece of nonsense.' - -The worthy minister, on the other hand, was quite delighted to have so -pretty a travelling companion with him on that long journey to the -south; and he looked after her with the most anxious paternal -solicitude, and from time to time he would try to cheer her with the -recital of ancient Highland anecdotes that he had picked up during his -fishing excursions. But he could see that the girl was preoccupied; her -eyes were absent and her manner distraught; sometimes her colour came -and went in a curious way, as if some sudden fancy had sent a tremor to -her heart. Then, as they drew near to the great city--it was a -pallid-clear morning, with some faint suggestions of blue overhead that -gave the wan landscape an almost cheerful look--she was obviously -suffering from nervous excitement; her answers to him were inconsequent, -though she tried her bravest to keep up the conversation. The good man -thought he would not bother her. No doubt it would be a great -change--from the quiet of Inver-Mudal to the roar and bustle of the vast -city; and no doubt the mere sight of hundreds and hundreds of strangers -would in itself be bewildering. Meenie, as he understood, had been in -Glasgow before, but it was some years ago, and she had not had a long -experience of it; in any case, she would naturally be restless and -nervous in looking forward to such a complete change in her way of life. - -As they slowed into the station, moreover, he could not help observing -how anxiously and eagerly she kept glancing from stranger to stranger, -as they passed them on the platform. - -'There will be somebody waiting for you, Miss Meenie?' he said at a -venture. - -'No, no,' she answered, somewhat hurriedly and shame-facedly as he -thought--and the good minister was puzzled; 'Agatha wrote that Mr. -Gemmill would be at the warehouse, and--and she would be busy in the -house on a Monday morning, and I was just to take a cab and come on to -Queen's Crescent. Oh! I shall manage all right,' she added, with some -bravado. - -And yet, when they had seen to their luggage, and got along to the -platform outside the station, she seemed too bewildered to heed what was -going on. Mr. Blair called a cab and got her boxes put on the top; but -she was standing there by herself, looking up and down, and regarding -the windows of the houses opposite in a kind of furtive and -half-frightened way. - -'This is Port Dundas Road?' she said to the minister (for had not -Maggie, in her voluminous communications about Ronald, described the -exact locality of his lodging, and the appearance of the station from -his room?). - -'It is.' - -She hesitated for a second or two longer; and then, recalling herself -with an effort, she thanked the minister for all his kindness, and bade -him good-bye, and got into the cab. Of course she kept both windows -down, so that she could command a view of both sides of the -thoroughfares as the man drove her away along the Cowcaddens and the New -City Road. But alas! how was she ever to find Ronald--by accident, as -she had hoped--in that continuous crowd? She had pictured to herself -her suddenly meeting him face to face; and she would read in his eyes -how much he remembered of Inver-Mudal and the olden days. But among -this multitude, how was such a thing possible? And then it was so -necessary that this meeting should be observed by no third person. - -However, these anxious doubts and fears were forcibly driven from her -head by her arrival at Queen's Crescent, and the necessity of meeting -the emergencies of the moment. She had but a half recollection of this -secluded little nook, with its semicircle of plain, neat, well-kept -houses, looking so entirely quiet and respectable; and its pretty little -garden, with its grass-plots, and its flower-plots, and its trim walks -and fountain--all so nice and neat and trim, and at this minute looking -quite cheerful in the pallid sunshine. And here, awaiting her at the -just opened door, was her sister Agatha--a sonsy, sufficiently -good-looking young matron, who had inherited her buxom proportions from -her father, but had got her Highland eyes, which were like Meenie's, -from her mother. And also there were a smaller Agatha--a self-important -little maiden of ten--and two younger children; and as the advent of -this pretty young aunt from Sutherlandshire was of great interest to -them, there was a babble of inquiries and answers as they escorted her -into the house. - -'And such a surprise to hear you were coming,' her sister was saying. -'We little expected it--but ye're none the less welcome--and Walter's -just quite set up about it. Ay, and ye're not looking so well, my father -says?--let's see.' - -She took her by the shoulders and wheeled her to the light. But, of -course, the girl was flushed with the excitement of her arrival, and -pleased with the attentions of the little people, so that for the moment -the expression of her face was bright enough. - -'There's not much wrong,' said the sister, 'but I don't wonder at your -being dull in yon dreadful hole. And I suppose there's no chance of -moving now. If my father had only kept to Edinburgh or Glasgow, and got -on like anybody else, we might all have been together, and among friends -and acquaintances; but it was aye the same--give him the chance of a -place where there was a gun or a fishing-rod handy, and that was enough. -Well, well, Meenie, we must wake ye up a bit if you've been feeling -dull; and Walter--he's as proud as a peacock that you're come; I declare -it's enough to make any other woman than myself jealous, the way he -shows your portrait to anybody and everybody that comes to the house; -and I had a hint from him this morning that any bit things ye might -need--mother's letter only came on Saturday--that they were to be a -present from him, and there's nothing stingy about Wat, though I say it -who shouldn't. And you'll have to share Aggie's bed for a night or two -until we have a room got ready for you.' - -'If I had only known that I was going to put you about, Agatha----' - -'Put us about, you daft lassie!' the elder sister exclaimed. 'Come away, -and I'll show you where your things will have to be stored for the -present. And my father says there are to be no finishing lessons, or -anything of that kind, for a while yet; you're to walk about and amuse -yourself; and we've a family-ticket for the Botanic Gardens--you can -take a book there or some knitting; and then you'll have to help me in -the house, for Walter will be for showing you off as his Highland -sister-in-law, and we'll have plenty of company.' - -And so the good woman rattled on; and how abundantly and secretly glad -was Meenie that not a word was said of Ronald Strang! She had felt -guilty enough when she entered the house; she had come on a secret -errand that she dared not disclose; and one or two things in her -sister's letters had convinced her that there were not likely to be very -friendly feelings towards Ronald in this little domestic circle. But -when they had gone over almost every conceivable topic, and not a single -question had been asked about Ronald, nor any reference even made to -him, she felt immensely relieved. To them, then, he was clearly of no -importance. Probably they had forgotten that she had once or twice -asked if he had called on them. Or perhaps her sister had taken it for -granted that the piece of news she had sent concerning him would -effectually and for ever crush any interest in him that Meenie may have -felt. Anyhow, his name was not even mentioned; and that was so far well. - -But what a strange sensation was this--when in the afternoon she went -out for a stroll with the smaller Agatha--to feel that at any moment, at -the turning of any corner, she might suddenly encounter Ronald. That -ever-moving crowd had the profoundest interest for her; these rather -grimy streets a continuous and mysterious fascination. Of course the -little Agatha, when they went forth from the house, was for going up to -the West End Park or out by Billhead to the Botanic Gardens, so that the -pretty young aunt should have a view of the beauties of Glasgow. But -Meenie had no difficulty in explaining that green slopes and trees and -things of that kind had no novelty for her, whereas crowded streets and -shops and the roar of cabs and carriages had; and so they turned -city-wards when they left the house, and went away in by Cambridge -Street and Sauchiehall Street to Buchanan Street. And was this the way, -then, she asked herself (and she was rather an absent companion for her -little niece), that Ronald would take on leaving his lodgings to get -over to the south side of the city, where, as she understood from his -sister's letters, lived the old forester who was superintending his -studies? But there were so many people here!--and all seemingly -strangers to each other; scarcely any two or three of them stopping to -have a chat together; and all of them apparently in such a hurry. Argyll -Street was even worse; indeed, she recoiled from that tumultuous -thoroughfare; and the two of them turned north again. The lamplighter -was beginning his rounds; here and there an orange star gleamed in the -pallid atmosphere; here and there a shop window glowed yellow. When they -got back to Queen's Crescent they found that Mr. Gemmill had returned; -it was his tea-time; and there was a talk of the theatre for the older -folk. - -Well, she did not despair yet. For one thing, she had not been anxious -to meet Ronald during that first plunge into the great city, for Agatha -was with her. But that was merely because the little girl had obtained -a holiday in honour of her aunt's coming; thereafter she went to school -every morning; moreover, the household happened to be a maidservant -short, and Mrs. Gemmill was busy, so that Meenie was left to do pretty -much as she liked, and to go about alone. And her walks did not take -her much to the Botanic Gardens, nor yet to the West End Park and Kelvin -Grove; far rather she preferred to go errands for her sister, and often -these would take her in by Sauchiehall Street and the top of Buchanan -Street; and always her eyes were anxious and yet timorous, seeking and -yet half-fearing to find. But where was Ronald? She tried different -hours. She grew to know every possible approach to that lodging in the -Port Dundas Road. And she had schooled herself now so that she could -search long thoroughfares with a glance that was apparently careless -enough; and she had so often pictured to herself their meeting, that she -knew she would not exhibit too great a surprise nor make too open a -confession of her joy. - -And at last her patient waiting was rewarded. It was in Renfield Street -that she suddenly caught sight of him--a long way off he was, but coming -towards her, and all unconscious of her being there. For a moment her -schooling of herself gave way somewhat; for her heart was beating so -wildly as almost to choke her; and she went on with her eyes fixed on -the ground, wondering what she should say, wondering if he would find -her face grown paler than it used to be, wondering what he would think -of her having sent him the bit of white heather. And then she forced -herself to raise her eyes; and it was at the very same instant that he -caught sight of her--though he was yet some distance off--and for the -briefest moment she saw his strange and startled look. But what was -this? Perhaps he fancied she had not seen him; perhaps he had reasons -for not wishing to be seen; at all events, after that one swift -recognition of her, he had suddenly slunk away--down some lane or -other--and when she went forward, in rather a blind and bewildered -fashion, behold! there was no Ronald there at all. She looked -around--with a heart as if turned to stone--but there was no trace of -him. And then she went on, rather proudly--or perhaps, rather, trying -to feel proud and hurt; but there was a gathering mist coming into her -eyes; and she scarcely knew--nor cared--whither she was walking. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV.* - - *A BOLDER STEP.* - - -As for him, he slunk aside hurriedly and all abashed and dismayed. He -did not pause until he was safe away from any pursuit; and there was a -lowering expression on his face, and his hand shook a little. He could -only hope that she had not seen him. Instantly he had seen her, he knew -that he dared not meet the beautiful clear eyes, that would regard him, -and perhaps mutely ask questions of him, even if there was no indignant -reproach in them. For during these past few days he had gradually been -becoming conscious of the squalor and degradation into which he had -sunk; and sometimes he would strive to raise himself out of that; and -sometimes he would sink back despairing, careless of what might become -of him or his poor affairs. But always there was there in his room that -mystic white token that Meenie had sent him; and at least it kept him -thinking--his conscience was not allowed to slumber; and sometimes it -became so strong an appeal to him--that is to say, he read into the -message such wild and daring and fantastic possibilities--that he would -once more resume that terrible struggle with the iron bands of habit -that bound him. - -'What is the matter wi' Ronald?' Kate Menzies asked of her cronies. 'He -hasna been near the house these three or four days.' - -'I'm thinking he's trying to earn the Blue Ribbon,' said old Mr. Jaap. - -'And no thriving weel on't, poor lad,' said Jimmy Laidlaw. 'Down in the -mouth's no the word. He's just like the ghost o' himsel'.' - -'I tell ye what, Mistress,' said the big skipper, who was contemplating -with much satisfaction a large beaker of hot rum and water, 'the best -thing you could do would be just to take the lad in hand, and marry him -right off. He would have somebody to look after him, and so would you; -as handsome a couple as ever stepped along Jamaica Street, I'll take my -oath.' - -The buxom widow laughed and blushed; but she was bound to protest. - -'Na, na, Captain, I ken better than that. I'm no going to throw away a -business like this on any man. I'll bide my ain mistress for a while -longer, if ye please.' - -And then mother Paterson--who had a handy gift of facile -acquiescence--struck in-- - -'That's right, Katie dear! Ye're sich a wise woman. To think ye'd throw -away a splendid place like this, and a splendid business, on any man, -and make him maister! And how long would it be before he ate and drank -ye out o' house and ha'?--set him up with a handsome wife and a splendid -business thrown at his heed, and scarcely for the asking! Na, na, Katie, -woman, ye ken your own affairs better than that; ye're no for any one to -come in and be maister here.' - -'But I'm concerned about the lad,' said Kate Menzies, a little absently. -'He met wi' none but friends here. He might fa' into worse hands.' - -'Gang up yersel', Mistress, and hae a talk wi' him,' said the skipper -boldly. - -Kate Menzies did not do that; but the same evening she wrote Ronald a -brief note. And very well she could write too--in a dashing, free -handwriting; and gilt-edged was the paper, and rose-pink was the -envelope. - - -'DEAR RONALD--Surely there is no quarrel between us. If I have offended -you, come and tell me; don't go away and sulk. If I have done or said -anything to offend you, I will ask your pardon. Can I do anything more -than that? Your cousin and friend, - -'KATE MENZIES.' - - -Of course he had to answer such an appeal in person: he went down the -next morning. - -'Quarrel, woman? What put that into your head? If there had been -anything of that kind, I would have told you fast enough; I'm not one of -the sulking kind.' - -'Well, I'm very glad to ken we're just as good friends as before,' said -Kate, regarding him, 'but I'm not glad to see the way ye're looking, -Ronald, my lad. Ye're not yourself at all, my man--what's got ye -whitey-faced, limp, shaky-looking like that? See here.' - -She went to the sideboard, and the next instant there was on the table a -bottle of champagne, with a couple of glasses, and a flask of angostura -bitters. - -'No, no, Katie, lass, I will not touch a drop,' said he: and he rose and -took his cap in his hand. - -'You will not?' she said. 'You will not? Why, man, you're ill--you're -ill, I tell ye. It's medicine!' - -He gripped her by the hand, and took the bottle from her, and put it -down on the table. - -'If I'm ill, I deserve to be, and that's the fact, lass. Let be--let be, -woman; I'm obliged to ye--some other time--some other time.' - -'Then if you winna, I will,' she said, and she got hold of the bottle -and opened it and poured out a glass of the foaming fluid. - -'And dinna I ken better what's good for ye than ye do yersel'?' said she -boldly. 'Ay, if ye were ruled by me, and drank nothing but what ye get -in this house, there would be little need for ye to be frightened at -what a wean might drink. Ye dinna ken your best friends, my lad.' - -'I know you wish me weel, Katie, lass,' said he, for he did not wish to -appear ungrateful, 'but I'm better without it.' - -'Yes,' said she tauntingly. 'Ye're better without sitting up a' night -wi' a lot o' roystering fellows, smoking bad tobacco and drinking bad -whisky. What mak's your face sae white? It's fusel-oil, if ye maun -ken. Here, Ronald, what canna hurt a woman canna hurt a man o' your -build--try it, and see if ye dinna feel better.' - -She put a good dash of bitters into the glass, and poured out the -champagne, and offered it to him. He did not wish to offend her; and he -himself did not believe the thing could hurt him; he took the glass and -sipped about a teaspoonful, and then set it down. - -Kate Menzies looked at him, and laughed aloud, and took him by the -shoulders and pushed him back into his chair. - -'There's a man for ye! Whatna young ladies' seminary have ye been -brought up at?' - -'I'll tell ye, lass,' he retorted. 'It was one where they taught folk -no to force other folk to drink against their will.' - -'Then it was different frae the one where I was brought up, for there, -when the doctor ordered anybody to take medicine, they were made to take -it. And here's yours,' she said; and she stood before him with the -glass in her hand. She was good-natured; it would have been ungracious -to refuse; he took the glass from her and drank off the contents. - -Now a glass of champagne, even with the addition of a little angostura -bitters, cannot be called a very powerful potion to those accustomed to -such things; but the fact was that he had not touched a drop of any -alcoholic fluid for two days; and this seemed to go straight to the -brain. It produced a slight, rather agreeable giddiness; a sense of -comfort was diffused throughout the system; he was not so anxious to get -away. And Kate began talking--upbraiding him for thinking that she -wanted to see him otherwise than well and in his usual health, and -declaring that if he were guided by her, there would be no need for him -to torture himself with total abstinence, and to reduce himself to this -abject state. The counsel (which was meant in all honesty) fell on -yielding ears; Kate brought some biscuits, and filled herself out -another glass. - -'That's what it is,' she said boldly, 'if you would be ruled by my -advice there would be no shaking hands and white cheeks for ye. Feeling -better, are ye?--ay, I warrant ye! Here, man, try this.' - -She filled his glass again, adding a good dose of bitters. - -'This one I will, but not a drop more,' said he. 'Ye're a desperate -creature, lass, for making folk comfortable.' - -'I ken what's the matter wi' you better than ye ken yoursel', Ronald,' -said she, looking at him shrewdly. 'You're disappointed--you're out o' -heart--because thae fine American friends o' yours hae forgotten you; -and you've got sick o' this new work o' yours; and you've got among a -lot o' wild fellows that are leading ye to the devil. Mark my words. -Americans! Better let a man trust to his ain kith and kin.' - -'Well, Katie, lass, I maun say this, that ye've just been ower kind to -me since ever I came to Glasgow.' - -'Another glass, Ronald----' - -'Not one drop--thank ye'--and this time he rose with the definite -resolve to get away, for even these two glasses had caused a swimming in -his head, and he knew not how much more he might drink if he stayed. - -'Better go for a long walk, then,' said Kate, 'and come back at three -and have dinner with us. I'll soon put ye on your legs again--trust to -me.' - -But when he went out into the open air, he found himself so giddy and -half-dazed and bewildered that, instead of going away for any long walk, -he thought he would go back home and lie down. He felt less happy now. -Why had he taken this accursed thing after all his resolves? - -And then it was--as he went up Renfield Street--that he caught his first -glimpse of Meenie. No wonder he turned and slunk rapidly away--anxious -to hide anywhere--hoping that Meenie had not seen him. And what a -strange thing was this--Meenie in Glasgow town! Oh, if he could only be -for a single day as once he had been--as she had known him in the happy -times when life went by like a laugh and a song--how wonderful it would -be to go along these thoroughfares hoping every moment to catch sight of -her face! A dull town?--no, a radiant town, with music in the air, and -joy and hope shining down from the skies! But now--he was a cowering -fugitive--sick in body and sick in mind--trembling with the excitement -of this sudden meeting--and anxious above all other things that he -should get back to the seclusion of his lodging unseen. - -Well, he managed that, at all events; and there he sate down, wondering -over this thing that had just happened. Meenie in Glasgow town!--and -why? And why had she sent him the white heather? Nay, he could not -doubt but that she had heard; and that this was at once a message of -reproach and an appeal; and what answer had he to give supposing that -some day or other he should meet her face to face? How could he win -back to his former state, so that he should not be ashamed to meet those -clear, kind eyes? If there were but some penance now--no matter what -suffering it entailed--that would obliterate these last months and -restore him to himself, how gladly would he welcome that! But it was -not only the bodily sickness--he believed he could mend that; he had -still a fine physique; and surely absolute abstention from stimulants, -no matter with what accompanying depression, would in time give him back -his health--it was mental sickness and hopelessness and remorse that had -to be cured; and how was that to be attempted? Or why should he attempt -it? What care had he for the future? To be sure, he would stop -drinking, definitely; and he would withdraw himself from those wild -companions; and he would have a greater regard for his appearance; so -that, if he should by chance meet Meenie face to face, he would not have -to be altogether so ashamed. But after? When she had gone away again? -For of course he assumed that she was merely here on a visit. - -And all this time he was becoming more and more conscious of how far he -had fallen--of the change that had come over himself and his -circumstances in these few months; and a curious fancy got into his head -that he would like to try to realise what he had been like in those -former days. He got out his blotting-pad of fragments--not those -dedicated to Meenie, that had been carefully put aside--and about the -very first of them that he chanced to light upon, when he looked down -the rough lines, made him exclaim-- - -'God bless me, was I like _that_--and no longer ago than last January?' - -The piece was called 'A Winter Song'; and surely the man who could write -in this gay fashion had an abundant life and joy and hope in his veins, -and courage to face the worst bleakness of the winter, and a glad -looking-forward to the coming of the spring? - -_Keen blows the wind upon Clebrig's side,_ - _And the snow lies thick on the heather;_ -_And the shivering hinds are glad to hide_ - _Away from the winter weather._ - -_Chorus: But soon the birds will begin to sing,_ - _And we will sing too, my dear,_ - _To give good welcoming to the spring_ - _In the primrose time o' the year!_ - -_Hark how the black lake, torn and tost,_ - _Thunders along its shores;_ -_And the burn is hard in the grip of the frost,_ - _And white, snow-white are the moors._ - -_Chorus: But soon the birds will begin to sing, etc._ - -_O then the warm west winds will blow,_ - _And all in the sunny weather,_ -_It's over the moorlands we will go,_ - _You and I, my love, together._ - -_Chorus: And then the birds will begin to sing,_ - _And we will sing too, my dear,_ - _To give good welcoming to the spring,_ - _In the primrose-time o' the year!_ - -Why, surely the blood must have been dancing in his brain when he wrote -that and the days white and clear around him; and life merry and -hopeful enough. And now? Well, it was no gladdening thing to think of: -he listlessly put away the book. - -And then he rose and went and got a pail of water and thrust his head -into that--for he was glad to feel that this muzzy sensation was going; -and thereafter he dried and brushed his hair with a little more care -than usual; and put on a clean collar. Nay, he began to set the little -room to rights--and his life in Highland lodges had taught him how to do -that about as well as any woman could; and he tried to brighten the -window panes a little, to make the place look more cheerful; and he -arranged the things on the mantel-shelf in better order--with the bit of -white heather in the middle. Then he came to his briar-root pipe; and -paused. He took it up, hesitating. - -'Yes, my friend, you must go too,' he said, with firm lips; and he -deliberately broke it, and tossed the fragments into the grate. - -And then he remembered that it was nearly three o'clock, and as he -feared that Kate Menzies might send some one of her friends to fetch -him, or even come for him herself, he put on his cap, and took a stick -in his hand, and went out. In half an hour or so he had left the city -behind him and was lost in that melancholy half-country that lies around -it on the north; but he cared little now how the landscape looked; he -was wondering what had brought Meenie to Glasgow town, and whether she -had seen him, and what she had heard of him. And at Inver-Mudal too? -Well, they might think the worst of him there if they chose. But had -Meenie heard? - -He scarcely knew how far he went; but in the dusk of the evening he was -again approaching the city by the Great Western Road; and as he came -nearer to the houses, he found that the lamps were lit, and the great -town settling down into the gloom of the night. Now he feared no -detection; and so it was that when he arrived at Melrose Street he -paused there. Should he venture into Queen's Crescent?--it was but a -stone's throw away. For he guessed that Meenie must be staying with her -sister; and he knew the address that she had given him, though he had -never called; nay, he had had the curiosity, once or twice in passing, -to glance at the house; and easily enough he could now make it out if he -chose. He hesitated for a second or two; then he stealthily made his -way along the little thoroughfare; and entered the crescent--but keeping -to the opposite side from Mrs. Gemmill's dwelling--and there quietly -walked up and down. He could see the windows well enough; they were all -of them lit; and the house seemed warm and comfortable; Meenie would be -at home there, and among friends, and her bright laugh would be heard -from room to room. Perhaps they had company too--since all the windows -were ablaze; rich folk, no doubt, for the Gemmills were themselves -well-to-do people; and Meenie would be made much of by these strangers, -and they would come round her, and the beautiful Highland eyes would be -turned towards them, and they would hear her speak in her quiet, gentle, -quaint way. Nor was there any trace of envy or jealousy in this man's -composition--outcast as he now deemed himself. Jealousy of -Meenie?--why, he wished the bountiful heavens to pour their choicest -blessings upon her, and the winds to be for ever soft around her, and -all sweet and gracious things to await her throughout her girlhood and -her womanhood and her old age. No; it did not trouble him that these -rich folk were fortunate enough to be with her, to listen to her, to -look at the clear, frank eyes; it might have troubled him had he thought -that they might not fully understand the generous rose-sweetness of her -nature, nor fully appreciate her straightforward, unconscious -simplicity, nor be sufficiently kind to her. And it was scarcely -necessary to consider that; of course they all of them would be kind to -her, for how could they help it? - -But his guess that they might be entertaining friends was wrong. By and -by a cab drove up; in a few minutes the door was opened; he ventured to -draw a little nearer; and then he saw three figures--one of them almost -assuredly Meenie--come out and enter the vehicle. They drove off; no -doubt they were going to some concert or theatre, he thought; and he was -glad that Meenie was being amused and entertained so; and was among -friends. And as for himself?-- - -'Well,' he was inwardly saying, as he resumed his walk homeward, 'the -dreams that look so fine when one is up among the hills are knocked on -the head sure enough when one comes to a town. I'll have no more to do -with these books; nor with the widow Menzies and her friends either. -To-morrow morning I'm off to the recruiting-sergeant--that's the best -thing for me now.' - -By the time he had got home he was quite resolved upon this. But there -was a note lying there on the table for him. 'That woman again,' he said -to himself. 'Katie, lass, I'm afraid you and I must part, but I hope -we'll part good friends.' - -And then his eyes grew suddenly startled. He took up the note, staring -at the outside, apparently half afraid. And then he opened it and -read--but in a kind of wild and breathless bewilderment--these two or -three lines, written in rather a shaky hand-- - - -'DEAR RONALD--I wish to see you. Would it trouble you to be at the -corner of Sauchiehall Street and Renfield Street to-morrow morning at -eleven?--I will not detain you more than a few minutes. Yours -sincerely, - -'MEENIE DOUGLAS.' - - -There was not much sleep for him that night. - - - - - *CHAPTER V.* - - *A MEETING.* - - -Indeed there was no sleep at all for him that night. He knew not what -this summons might mean; and all the assurance and self-confidence of -former days was gone now; he was nervous, distracted, easily alarmed; -ready to imagine evil things; and conscious that he was in no fit state -to present himself before Meenie. And yet he never thought of slinking -away. Meenie desired to see him, and that was enough. Always and ever -he had been submissive to her slightest wish. And if it were merely to -reproach him, to taunt him with his weakness and folly, that she had now -sent for him, he would go all the same. He deserved that and more. If -only it had been some one else--not Meenie--whose resolute clear eyes he -had to meet! - -That brief interview over--and then for the Queen's shilling: this was -what was before him now, and the way seemed clear enough. But so -unnerved was he that the mere idea of having to face this timid girl -made him more and more restless and anxious; and at last, towards three -o'clock in the morning, he, not having been to bed at all, opened the -door and stole down the stair and went out into the night. The black -heavens were pulsating from time to time with a lurid red sent over from -the ironworks in the south; somewhere there was the footfall of a -policeman unseen; the rest was darkness and a terrible silence. He -wandered away through the lonely streets, he scarcely knew whither. He -was longing that the morning should come, and yet dreading its approach. -He reached the little thoroughfare that leads into Queen's Crescent: but -he held on his way without turning aside; it was not for this poor -trembling ghost and coward to pass under her window, with 'Sleep dwell -upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast' as his unspoken benediction. He -held on his way towards the open country, wandering quite aimlessly, and -busy only with guesses and forebodings and hopeless desires that he -might suddenly find before him the dark-rolling waters of Lethe, and -plunge into them, and wash away from him all knowledge and recollection -of the past. When at length he turned towards the city, the gray dawn -was breaking in the dismal skies; the first of the milk-carts came -slowly crawling into the town; and large waggons laden with vegetables -and the like. He got back to his lodgings; threw himself on the bed; -and there had an hour or two of broken and restless sleep. - -When he awoke he went quickly to the window. The skies were heavy; -there was a dull drizzle in the thick atmosphere; the pavements were -wet. It was with a sudden sense of relief that he saw what kind of a -day it was. Of course Meenie would never think of coming out on so wet -and miserable a morning. He would keep the appointment, doubtless; she -would not appear--taking it for granted he would not expect her; and -then--then for the recruiting-sergeant and a final settlement of all -these ills and shames. Nevertheless he dressed himself with scrupulous -neatness; and brushed and rebrushed his clothes; and put on his -deerstalker's cap--for the sake of old days. And then, just as he was -leaving, he took a little bit of the white heather, and placed it in his -waistcoat pocket; if the talisman had any subtle power whatever, all the -good luck that he could wish for was to find Meenie not too bitter in -her scorn. - -He made his way to the corner of Sauchiehall Street some little time -before the appointed hour. But it was actually raining now; of course -Meenie would not come. So he idly paced up and down; staring absently at -the shop windows; occasionally looking along the street, but with no -great expectation; and thinking how well content and satisfied with -themselves these people seemed to be who were now hurrying by under -their streaming umbrellas. His thoughts went far afield. -Vimiera--Salamanca--Ciudad -Rodrigo--Balaklava--Alma--Lucknow--Alumbagh--these were the names and -memories that were in his head. An old school companion of his own had -got the V.C. for a conspicuous act of daring at the storming of the -Redan, and if that were not likely to be his proud fate, at least in -this step he was resolved upon he would find safety and a severance from -degrading bonds, and a final renunciation of futile ambitions and -foolish and idle dreams. - -He was looking into a bookseller's window. A timid hand touched his -arm. - -'Ronald!' - -And oh! the sudden wonder and the thrill of finding before him those -beautiful, friendly, glad eyes, so true, so frank, so full of all -womanly tenderness and solicitude, and abundant and obvious kindness! -Where was the reproach of them? They were full of a kind of half-hidden -joy--timid and reluctant, perhaps, a little--but honest and clear and -unmistakable; and as for him--well, his breath was clean taken away by -the surprise, and by the sudden revulsion of feeling from a listless -despair to the consciousness that Meenie was still his friend; and all -he could do was to take the gentle hand in both of his and hold it fast. - -'I--I heard that you were not--not very well, Ronald,' she managed to -say. - -And then the sound of her voice--that brought with it associations of -years--seemed to break the spell that was on him. - -'Bless me, Miss Douglas,' he said, 'you will get quite wet! Will you -not put up your umbrella--or--or take shelter somewhere?' - -'Oh, I do not mind the rain,' she said, and there was a kind of -tremulous laugh about her lips, as if she were trying to appear very -happy indeed. 'I do not mind the rain. We did not heed the rain much -at Inver-Mudal, Ronald, when there was anything to be done. And--and so -glad I am to see you! It seems so long a time since you left the -Highlands.' - -'Ay; and it has been a bad time for me,' he said; and now he was -beginning to get his wits together again. He could not keep Miss -Douglas thus standing in the wet. He would ask her why she had sent for -him; and then he would bid her good-bye and be off; but with a glad, -glad heart that he had seen her even for these few seconds. - -'And there are so many things to be talked over after so long a time,' -said she; 'I hope you have a little while to spare, Ronald----' - -'But to keep you in the rain, Miss Douglas----' - -'Oh, but this will do,' said she (and whatever her inward thoughts were, -her speech was blithe enough). 'See, I will put up the umbrella, and -you will carry it for me--it is not the first time, Ronald, that you and -I have had to walk in the rain together, and without any umbrella. And -do you know why I do not care for the rain?' she added, glancing at him -again with the frank, affectionate eyes; 'it's because I am so glad to -find you looking not so ill after all, Ronald.' - -'Not so ill, maybe, as I deserve to be,' he answered; but he took the -umbrella and held it over her; and they went down Renfield Street a -little way and then into West Regent Street; and if she did not put her -hand on his arm, at least she was very close to him, and the thrill of -the touch of her dress was magnetic and strange. Strange, indeed; and -strange that he should find himself walking side by side with Meenie -through the streets of Glasgow town; and listening mutely and humbly the -while to all her varied talk of what had happened since he left -Inver-Mudal. Whatever she had heard of him, it seemed to be her wish to -ignore that. She appeared to assume that their relations to each other -now were just as they had been in former days. And she was quite bright -and cheerful and hopeful; how could he know that the first glance at his -haggard face had struck like a dagger to her heart? - -Moreover, the rain gradually ceased; the umbrella was lowered; a light -west wind was quietly stirring; and by and by a warmer light began to -interfuse itself through the vaporous atmosphere. Nay, by the time they -had reached Blythswood Square, a pallid sunshine was clearly shining on -the wet pavements and door-steps and house-fronts; and far overhead, and -dimly seen through the mysteriously moving pall of mist and smoke, there -were faint touches of blue, foretelling the opening out to a joyfuller -day. The wide square was almost deserted; they could talk to each other -as they chose; though, indeed, the talking was mostly on her side. -Something, he scarcely knew what, kept him silent and submissive; but -his heart was full of gratitude towards her; and from time to time--for -how could he help it?--some chance word or phrase of appeal would bring -him face to face with Meenie's eyes. - -So far she had cunningly managed to avoid all reference to his own -affairs, so that he might get accustomed to this friendly conversation; -but at length she said-- - -'And now about yourself, Ronald?' - -'The less said the better,' he answered. 'I wish that I had never come -to this town.' - -'What?' she said, with a touch of remonstrance in her look. 'Have you -so soon forgotten the fine prospects you started away with? Surely not! -Why, it was only the other day I had a letter from Miss Hodson--the -young American lady, you remember--and she was asking all about you, and -whether you had passed the examination yet; and she said her father and -herself were likely to come over next spring, and hoped to hear you had -got the certificate.' - -He seemed to pay no heed to this news. - -'I wish I had never left Inver-Mudal,' he said. 'I was content there; -and what more can a man wish for anywhere? It's little enough of that -I've had since I came to this town. But for whatever has happened to me, -I've got myself to blame; and--and I beg your pardon, Miss Douglas, I -will not bother you with any poor concerns of mine----' - -'But if I wish to be bothered?' she said quickly. 'Ronald, do you know -why I have come from the Highlands?' - -Her face was blushing a rosy red; but her eyes were steadfast and clear -and kind; and she had stopped in her walk to confront him. - -'I heard the news of you--yes, I heard the news,' she continued; and it -was his eyes, not hers, that were downcast; 'and I knew you would do -much for me--at least, I thought so,--and I said to myself that if I -were to go to Glasgow, and find you, and ask you for my sake to give me -a promise----' - -'I know what ye would say, Miss Douglas,' he interposed, for she was -dreadfully embarrassed. 'To give up the drink. Well, it's easily -promised and easily done, now--indeed, I've scarce touched a drop since -ever I got the bit of heather you sent me. It was a kind thing to think -of--maybe I'm making too bold to think it was you that sent it----' - -'I knew you would know that it was I that sent it--I meant you to know,' -she said simply. - -'It was never any great love of the drink that drove me that way,' he -said. 'I think it was that I might be able to forget for a while.' - -'To forget what, Ronald?' she asked, regarding him. - -'That ever I was such a fool as to leave the only people I cared for,' -he answered frankly, 'and come away here among strangers, and bind -myself to strive for what I had no interest in. But bless me, Miss -Douglas, to think I should keep ye standing here--talking about my poor -affairs----' - -'Ronald,' she said calmly, 'do you know that I have come all the way to -Glasgow to see you and to talk about your affairs and nothing else; and -you are not going to hurry away? Tell me about yourself. What are you -doing? Are you getting on with your studies?' - -He shook his head. - -'No, no. I have lost heart that way altogether. Many's the time I have -thought of writing to Lord Ailine, and asking to be taken back, if it -was only to look after the dogs. I should never have come to this town; -and now I am going away from it, for good.' - -'Going away? Where?' she said, rather breathlessly. - -'I want to make a clean break off from the kind of life I have been -leading,' said he, 'and I know the surest way. I mean to enlist into one -of the Highland regiments that's most likely to be ordered off on -foreign service.' - -'Ronald!' - -She seized his hand and held it. - -'Ronald, you will not do that!' - -Well, he was startled by the sudden pallor of her face; and bewildered -by the entreaty so plainly visible in the beautiful eyes; and perhaps he -did not quite know how he answered. But he spoke quickly. - -'Oh, of course I will not do that,' he said, 'of course I will not do -that, Miss Douglas, so long as you are in Glasgow. How could I? Why, -the chance of seeing you, even at a distance--for a moment even--I would -wait days for that. When I made up my mind to enlist, I had no thought -that I might ever have the chance of seeing you. Oh no; I will wait -until you have gone back to the Highlands--how could I go away from -Glasgow and miss any single chance of seeing you, if only for a moment?' - -'Yes, yes,' she said eagerly, 'you will do nothing until then, anyway; -and in the meantime I shall see you often----' - -His face lighted up with surprise. - -'Will you be so kind as that?' he said quickly. And then he dropped her -hand. 'No, no. I am so bewildered by the gladness of seeing you -that--that I forgot. Let me go my own way. You were always so generous -in your good nature that you spoiled us all at Inver-Mudal; here--here -it is different. You are living with your sister, I suppose? and of -course you have many friends, and many things to do and places to visit. -You must not trouble about me; but as long as you are in Glasgow--well, -there will always be the chance of my catching a glimpse of you--and if -you knew what it was--to me----' - -But here he paused abruptly, fearful of offending by confessing too -much; and now they had resumed their leisurely walking along the -half-dried pavements; and Meenie was revolving certain little schemes -and artifices in her brain--with a view to their future meeting. And -the morning had grown so much brighter; and there was a pleasant warmth -of sunlight in the air; and she was glad to know that at least for a -time Ronald would not be leaving the country. She turned to him with a -smile. - -'I shall have to be going back home now,' she said, 'but you will not -forget, Ronald, that you have made me two promises this morning.' - -'It's little you know, Miss Douglas,' said he, 'what I would do for you, -if I but knew what ye wished. I mean for you yourself. For my own -self, I care but little what happens to me. I have made a mistake in my -life somehow. I----' - -'Then will you promise me more, Ronald?' said she quickly; for she would -not have him talk in that strain. - -'What?' - -'Will you make me a promise that you will not enlist at all?' - -'I will, if it is worth heeding one way or the other.' - -'But make me the promise,' said she, and she regarded him with no -unfriendly eyes. - -'There's my hand on't.' - -'And another--that you will work hard and try and get the forestry -certificate?' - -'What's the use of that, lass?' said he, forgetting his respect for her. -'I have put all that away now. That's all away beyond me now.' - -'No,' she said proudly. 'No. It is not. Oh, do you think that the -people who know you do not know what your ability is? Do you think they -have lost their faith in you? Do you think they are not still looking -forward and hoping the time may come that they may be proud of your -success, and--and--come and shake hands with you, Ronald--and say how -glad they are? And have you no regard for them, or heed for -their--their affection towards you?' - -Her cheeks were burning red, but she was far too much in earnest to -measure her phrases; and she held his hand in an imploring kind of way; -and surely, if ever a brave and unselfish devotion and love looked out -from a woman's eyes, that was the message that Meenie's eyes had for him -then. - -'I had a kind of fancy,' he said, 'that if I could get abroad--with one -o' those Highland regiments--there might come a time when I could have -the chance of winning the V.C.--the Victoria Cross, I mean; ay, and it -would have been a proud day for me the day that I was able to send that -home to you.' - -'To me, Ronald?' she said, rather faintly. - -'Yes, yes,'said he. 'Whatever happened to me after that day would not -matter much.' - -'But you have promised----' - -'And I will keep that promise, and any others you may ask of me, Miss -Douglas.' - -'That you will call me Meenie, for one?' she said, quite simply and -frankly. - -'No, no; I could not do that,' he answered--and yet the permission -sounded pleasant to the ear. - -'We are old friends, Ronald,' she said. 'But that is a small matter. -Well, now, I must be getting back home; and yet I should like to see you -again soon, Ronald, for there are so many things I have to talk over -with you. Will you come and see my sister?' - -His hesitation and embarrassment were so obvious that she instantly -repented her of having thrown out this invitation; moreover, it occurred -to herself that there would be little chance of her having any private -speech of Ronald (which was of such paramount importance at this moment) -if he called at Queen's Crescent. - -'No, not yet,' she said, rather shamefacedly and with downcast eyes; -'perhaps, since--since there are one or two private matters to talk -over, we--we could meet just as now? It is not--taking up too much of -your time, Ronald?' - -'Why,' said he, 'if I could see you for a moment, any day--merely to say -"good morning"--that would be a well-spent day for me; no more than that -used to make many a long day quite happy for me at Inver-Mudal.' - -'Could you be here to-morrow at eleven, Ronald?' she asked, looking up -shyly. - -'Yes, yes, and gladly!' he answered; and presently they had said -good-bye to each other; and she had set out for Queen's Crescent by -herself; while he turned towards the east. - -And now all his being seemed transfused with joy and deep gratitude; and -the day around him was clear and sweet and full of light; and all the -world seemed swinging onward in an ether of happiness and hope. The -dreaded interview!--where was the reproach and scorn of it? Instead of -that it had been all radiant with trust and courage and true affection; -and never had Meenie's eyes been so beautiful and solicitous with all -good wishes; never had her voice been so strangely tender, every tone of -it seeming to reach the very core of his heart. And how was he to -requite her for this bountiful care and sympathy--that overawed him -almost when he came to think of it? Nay, repayment of any kind was all -impossible: where was the equivalent of such generous regard? But at -least he could faithfully observe the promises he had made--yes, these -and a hundred more; and perhaps this broken life of his might still be -of some small service, if in any way it could win for him a word of -Meenie's approval. - -And then, the better to get away from temptation, and to cut himself -wholly adrift from his late companions, he walked home to his lodgings -and packed up his few things and paid his landlady a fortnight's rent in -lieu of notice, as had been agreed upon. That same night he was -established in new quarters, in the Garscube Road; and he had left no -address behind him; so that if Kate Menzies, or the skipper, or any of -his cronies of the Harmony Club were to wonder at his absence and seek -to hunt him out, they would seek and hunt in vain. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI.* - - *CONFESSION.* - - -That night he slept long and soundly, and his dreams were all about -Inver-Mudal and the quiet life among the hills; and, strangely enough, -he fancied himself there, and Meenie absent; and always he was wondering -when she was coming back from Glasgow town, and always he kept looking -for her as each successive mail-cart came through from the south. And -then in the morning, when he awoke, and found himself in the great city -itself, and knew that Meenie was there too, and that in a few hours they -were to meet, his heart was filled with joy, and the day seemed rich and -full of promise, and the pale and sickly sunlight that struggled in -through the window panes and lit up the dusty little room seemed a -glorious thing, bringing with it all glad tidings. 'You, fortunate -Glasgow town!' he had rhymed in the olden days; and this was the welcome -that Glasgow town had for Meenie--sunlight, and perhaps a glimpse of -blue here and there, and a light west wind blowing in from the heights -of Dowanhill and Hillhead. - -He dressed with particular care; and if his garments were not of the -newest fashionable cut, at least they clung with sufficient grace and -simplicity of outline to the manly and well-set figure. And he knew -himself that he was looking less haggard than on the previous day. He -was feeling altogether better; the long and sound sleep had proved a -powerful restorative; and his heart was light with hope. The happy -sunlight shining out there on the gray pavements and the gray fronts of -the houses!--was there ever in all the world a fairer and joyfuller city -than this same Glasgow town? - -He was in Blythswood Square long before the appointed hour; and she also -was a little early. But this, time it was Meenie who was shy and -embarrassed; she was not so earnest and anxious as she had been the day -before, for much of her errand was now satisfactorily accomplished; and -when, after a moment's hesitation, he asked her whether she would not go -and have a look at the terraces and trees in the West End Park, it -seemed so like two lovers setting out for a walk together that the -conscious blood mantled in her cheeks, and her eyes were averted. But -she strove to be very business-like; and asked him a number of questions -about Mr. Weems; and wondered that the Americans had said nothing -further about the purchase of an estate in the Highlands, of which there -had been some little talk. In this way--and with chance remarks and -inquiries about Maggie, and the Reverend Andrew, and Mr. Murray, and -Harry the terrier, and what not--they made their way through various -thoroughfares until they reached the tall gates of the West End Park. - -Here there was much more quietude than in those noisy streets; and when -they had walked along one of the wide terraces, until they came to a -seat partly surrounded by shrubs, Meenie suggested that they might sit -down there, for she wished to reason seriously with him. He smiled a -little; but he was very plastic in her hands. Nay, was it not enough -merely to hear Meenie speak--no matter what the subject might be? And -then he was sitting by her side, with all that wide prospect stretched -out before them--the spacious terraces, the groups of trees, the curving -river, and the undulating hills beyond. It was a weird kind of a -morning, moreover; for the confused and wan sunlight kept struggling -through the ever-changing mist, sometimes throwing a coppery radiance on -the late autumn foliage, or again shining pale and silver-like as the -fantastic cloud-wreaths slowly floated onward. The view before them was -mysterious and vast because of its very vagueness; and even the new -University buildings--over there on the heights above the river--looked -quite imposing and picturesque, for they loomed large and dusky and -remote through the bewildering sunlit haze. - -'Now, Ronald,' she said, 'I want you to tell me how it was you came to -lose heart so, and to give up what you undertook to do when you left -Inver-Mudal. Why, when you left you were full of such high hopes; and -every one was sure of your success; and you were all anxiety to begin.' - -'That's true, Miss Douglas,' he answered, rather absently. 'I think my -head must have been in a kind of a whirl at that time. It seemed so -fine and easy a thing to strive for; and I did not stop to ask what use -it would be to me, supposing I got it.' - -'The use?' she said. 'A better position for yourself--isn't it natural -to strive for that? And perhaps, if you did not care much to have more -money for yourself--for you have very strange notions, Ronald, about -some things--you must see how much kindness can be done to others by -people who are well off. I don't understand you at all----' - -'Well, then,' said he, shifting his ground, 'I grew sick and tired of -the town life. I was never meant for that. Every day----' - -'But, Ronald,' she said, interrupting him in a very definite tone of -remonstrance, 'you knew that your town life was only a matter of months! -And the harder you worked the sooner it would be over! What reason was -that?' - -'There may have been other reasons,' he said, but rather unwillingly. - -'What were they?' - -'I cannot tell you.' - -'Ronald,' she said, and the touch of wounded pride in her voice thrilled -him strangely, 'I have come all the way from the Highlands--and--and -done what few girls would have done--for your sake; and yet you will not -be frank with me--when all that I want is to see you going straight -towards a happier future.' - -'I dare not tell you, you would be angry.' - -'I am not given to anger,' she answered, calmly, and yet with a little -surprised resentment. For she could but imagine that this was some -entanglement of debt, or something of the kind, of which he was ashamed -to speak; and yet, unless she knew clearly the reasons that had induced -him to abandon the project that he had undertaken so eagerly, how was -she to argue with him and urge him to resume it? - -'Well, then, we'll put it this way,' said he, after a second or two of -hesitation--and his face was a little pale, and his eyes were fixed on -her with an anxious nervousness, so that, at the first sign of -displeasure, he could instantly stop. 'There was a young lass that I -knew there--in the Highlands--and she was, oh yes, she was out of my -station altogether, and away from me--and yet the seeing her from time -to time, and a word now and again, was a pleasure to me, greater maybe -than I confessed to myself--the greatest that I had in life, indeed.' - -She made no sign, and he continued, slowly and watchfully, and still -with that pale earnestness in his face. - -'And then I wrote things about her--and amused myself with -fancies--well, what harm could that do to her?--so long as she knew -nothing about it. And I thought I was doing no harm to myself either, -for I knew it was impossible there could be anything between us, and -that she would be going away sooner or later, and I too. Yes, and I did -go away, and in high feather, to be sure, and everything was to be for -the best, and I was to have a fight for money like the rest of them. -God help me, lassie, before I was a fortnight in the town, my heart was -like to break.' - -She sate quite still and silent, trembling a little, perhaps, her eyes -downcast, her fingers working nervously with the edge of the small shawl -she wore. - -'I had cut myself away from the only thing I craved for in the -world--just the seeing and speaking to her from time to time, for I had -no right to think of more than that; and I was alone and down-hearted; -and I began to ask myself what was the use of this slavery. Ay, there -might have been a use in it--if I could have said to myself, "Well, now, -fight as hard as ye can, and if ye win, who knows but that ye might go -back to the north, and claim her as the prize?" But that was not to be -thought of. She had never hinted anything of the kind to me, nor I to -her; but when I found myself cut away from her like that, the days were -terrible, and my heart was like lead, and I knew that I had cast away -just everything that I cared to live for. Then I fell in with some -companions--a woman cousin o' mine and some friends of hers--and they -helped to make me forget what I didna wish to think of, and so the time -passed. Well, now, that is the truth; and ye can understand, Miss -Douglas, that I have no heart to begin again, and the soldiering seemed -the best thing for me, and a rifle-bullet my best friend. But--but I -will keep the promise I made to ye--that is enough on that score; oh -yes, I will keep that promise, and any others ye may care to ask; only I -cannot bide in Glasgow.' - -He heard a faint sob; he could see that tears were gliding stealthily -down her half-hidden face; and his heart was hot with anger against -himself that he had caused her this pain. But how could he go away? A -timid hand sought his, and held it for a brief moment with a tremulous -clasp. - -'I am very sorry, Ronald,' she managed to say, in a broken voice. 'I -suppose it could not have been otherwise--I suppose it could not have -been otherwise.' - -For some time they sate in silence--though he could hear an occasional -half-stifled sob. He could not pretend to think that Meenie did not -understand; and this was her great pity for him; she did not drive him -away in anger--her heart was too gentle for that. - -'Miss Douglas,' said he at length, 'I'm afraid I've spoiled your walk -for you wi' my idle story. Maybe the best thing I can do now is just to -leave you.' - -'No--stay,' she said, under her breath; and she was evidently trying to -regain her composure. 'You spoke--you spoke of that girl--O Ronald, I -wish I had never come to Glasgow!--I wish I had never heard what you -told me just now!' - -And then, after a second-- - -'But how could I help it--when I heard what was happening to you, and -all the wish in the world I had was to know that you were brave and well -and successful and happy? I could not help it! ... And now--and -now--Ronald,' she said, as if with a struggle against that choking -weight of sobs; for much was demanded of her at this moment; and her -voice seemed powerless to utter all that her heart prompted her to say, -'if--if that girl you spoke of--if she was to see clearly what is best -for her life and for yours--if she was to tell you to take up your work -again, and work hard, and hard, and hard--and then, some day, it might -be years after this, when you came back again to the north, you would -find her still waiting?----' - -'Meenie!' - -He grasped her hand: his face was full of a bewilderment of hope--not -joy, not triumph, but as if he hardly dared to believe what he had -heard. - -'O Ronald,' she said, in a kind of wild way,--and she turned her wet -eyes towards him in full, unhesitating abandonment of affection and -trust, nor could she withdraw the hand that he clasped so firmly,--'what -will you think of me?--what will you think of me?--but surely there -should be no hiding or false shame, and surely there is for you and for -me in the world but the one end to hope for; and if not that--why, then, -nothing. If you go away, if you have nothing to hope for, it will be -the old misery back again, the old despair; and as for me--well, that is -not of much matter. But, Ronald--Ronald--whatever happens--don't think -too hardly of me--I know I should not have said so much--but it would -just break my heart to think you were left to yourself in Glasgow--with -nothing to care for or hope for----' - -'Think of you!' he cried, and in a kind of wonder of rapture he was -regarding Meenie's tear-filled eyes, that made no shame of meeting his -look. 'I think of you--and ever will--as the tenderest and kindest and -truest-hearted of women.' He had both her hands now; and he held them -close and warm. 'Even now--at this minute--when you have given yourself -to me--you have no thought of yourself at all--it is all about me, that -am not worth it, and never was. Is there any other woman in the world -so brave and unselfish! Meenie, lass--no, for this once--and no one -will ever be able to take the memory away from me--for this once let me -call you my love and my darling--my true-hearted love and -darling!--well, now, that's said and done with; and many a day to come I -will think over these few minutes, and think of sitting here with you in -this West End Park on the bench here, and the trees around, and I will -say to myself that I called Meenie my love and my darling, and she was -not angry--not angry.' - -'No, not angry, Ronald,' and there was a bit of a strange and tender -smile shining through the tears in the blue-gray eyes. - -'Ay, indeed,' said he, more gravely, 'that will be something for me; -maybe, everything. I can scarcely believe that this has just -happened--my heart's in a flame, and my head's gone daft, I think; and -it seems as if there was nothing for me but to thank God for having sent -you into the world and made you as unselfish and generous as you are. -But that's not the way of looking at it, my--my good lass. You have too -little thought for yourself. Why, what a coward I should be if I did -not ask you to think of the sacrifice you are making!' - -'I am making no sacrifice, Ronald,' she said, simply and calmly. 'I -spoke what my heart felt; and perhaps too readily. But I am going back -to the Highlands. I shall stay there till you come for me, if ever you -come for me. They spoke of my going for a while to my mother's cousins; -but I shall not do that; no, I shall be at Inver-Mudal, or wherever my -father is, and you will easily get to know that, Ronald. But if things -go ill, and you do not come for me--or--or, if ye do not care to come -for me--well, that is as the world goes, and no one can tell -before-hand. Or many years may go by, and when you do come for me, -Ronald, you may find me a gray-haired woman--but you will find me a -single woman.' - -She spoke quite calmly; this was no new resolve; it was his lips, not -hers, that were tremulous, for a second or so. But only for a second; -for now he was all anxiety to cheer her and comfort her as regards the -future. He could not bring himself to ask her to consider again; the -prize was too precious; rather he spoke of all the chances and hopes of -life, and of the splendid future that she had placed before him. Now -there was something worth striving for--something worth the winning. -And already, with the wild audacity that was now pulsating in his veins, -he saw the way clear--a long way, perhaps, and tedious, but all filled -with light and strewn with blossoms here or there (these were messages, -or a look, or a smile, from Meenie), and at the end of it, waiting to -welcome him, Love-Meenie, Rose-Meenie, with love-radiance shining in her -eyes. - -He almost talked her into cheerfulness (for she had grown a little -despondent after that first devotion of self-surrender); and by and by -she rose from the bench. She was a little pale. - -'I don't know whether I have done well or ill, Ronald,' she said, in a -low voice, 'but I do not think I could have done otherwise. It is for -you to show hereafter that I have done right.' - -'But do you regret?' he said quickly. - -She turned to him with a strange smile on her face. - -'Regret? No. I do not think I could have done otherwise. But it is -for you to show to all of them that I have done right.' - -'And if it could only be done all at once, Meenie; that's where the -soldier has his chance----' - -'No, it is not to be done all at once,' she said; 'it will be a hard and -difficult waiting for you, and a slow waiting for me----' - -'Do you think I care for any hardness or difficulty now?' he said. -'Dear Meenie, you little know what a prize you have set before me. Why, -now, here, every moment that I pass with you seems worth a year; and yet -I grudge every one----' - -'But why?' she said, looking up. - -'I am going over to Pollokshaws the instant I leave you to try to pick -up the threads of everything I had let slip. Dear lass, you have made -every quarter of an hour in the day far too short; I want twelve hours -in the day to be with you, and other twelve to be at my work.' - -'We must see each other very little, Ronald,' she said, as they set out -to leave the Park. 'People would only talk----' - -'But to-morrow----' - -'No. My sister is going down to Dunoon to-morrow to see about the -shutting up of the house for the winter, and I am going with her. But -on Friday--if you were in the Botanic Gardens--early in the -forenoon--perhaps I could see you then?' - -'Yes, yes,' said he eagerly; and as they went down towards the Woodland -Road he strove to talk to her very cheerfully and brightly indeed, for -he could not but see that she was a little troubled. - -Then, when they were about to part, she seemed to try to rouse herself a -little, and to banish whatever doubts and hesitations may have been -harassing her mind. - -'Ronald,' she said, with a bit of a smile, 'when you told me of that -girl in the Highlands that you knew, you said you--you had never said -anything to her that would lead her to imagine you were thinking of her. -But you wrote her a letter.' - -'What?' - -'Yes; and she saw it,' Meenie continued; but with downcast eyes. 'It -was not meant for her to see; but she saw it. It was some verses--very -pretty they were--but--but rather daring--considering that----' - -'Bless me,' he exclaimed, 'did you see that?' - -She nodded. And then his mind went swiftly back to that period. - -'Meenie, that was the time you were angry with me.' - -She looked up. - -'And yet not so very angry, Ronald.' - - -'_But Love from Love towards school with hoary looks._' Not always. -Five miles an hour or so was the pace at which Ronald sped over to -Pollokshaws: and very much astonished was the nervous little Mr. Weems -over the new-found and anxious energy of his quondam pupil. Ronald -remained all day there, and, indeed, did not leave the cottage until it -was very late. As he walked back into the town all the world around him -lay black and silent; no stars were visible; no crescent moon; nor any -dim outline of cloud; but the dusky heavens were flushed with the red -fires of the ironworks, as the flames shot fiercely up, and sent their -sullen splendour across the startled night. And that, it may have -occurred to him, was as the lurid glare that had lit up his own life for -a while, until the fires had gone down, and the world grown sombre and -dead; but surely there was a clear dawn about to break by and by in the -east--clear and silvery and luminous--like the first glow of the morn -along the Clebrig slopes. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII.* - - *AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL.* - - -He was almost glad that Meenie was going away for these two days, for he -was desperately anxious to make up for the time he had lost; and the -good-natured little Mr. Weems, instead of showing any annoyance or -resentment, rather aided and abetted this furious zeal on the part of -his pupil. All the same, Ronald found occasion to be within easy -distance of the railway station on the morning of Meenie's departure -and about a few minutes to eight he saw herself and her sister step out -of one of the cabs that were being driven up. If only he could have -signalled a good-bye to her! But he kept discreetly in the background; -glad enough to see that she was looking so fresh and bright and -cheerful--even laughing she was, over some little mishap, as he -imagined. And then so trim and neat she was in her travelling attire; -and so daintily she walked--the graceful figure moving (as he thought) -as if to a kind of music. The elder sister took the tickets; then they -entered one of the carriages; and presently the train had slowly rolled -away from the platform and was gone. - -That glimpse of Meenie had filled his heart with unutterable delight; he -scarcely knew what he was doing when he got out into the open air again. -The day seemed a festal day; there was gladness abroad in the very -atmosphere; it was a day for good-companionship, and the drinking of -healths, and the wishing of good wishes to all the world. His thoughts -were all with Meenie--in that railway carriage flying away down to -Greenock; and yet here, around him, there was gladness and happiness -that seemed to demand some actual expression and recognition! Almost -unconsciously--and with his brain busy with very distant matters--he -walked into a public-house. - -'Give me a glass of Highland whisky, my lad,' said he to the young man -standing behind the counter: 'Talisker, if ye have it.' - -The whisky was measured out and placed before him. He did not look at -it. He was standing a little apart. And now Meenie would be out by -Pollokshields, in the whiter air; by and by she would pass through -Paisley's smoke; then through the placid pastoral country until she -would come in sight of Dumbarton's castled crags and the long wide -valley of the Clyde. And then the breezy waters of the Firth; and the -big steamboat; and Meenie walking up and down the white deck, and -drawing the sealskin coat a little tighter round the slight and graceful -figure. There would be sunlight there; and fresh sea-winds blowing up -from Arran and Bute, from Cumbrae and Cantire. And Meenie-- - -But at this moment his attention was somehow drawn to the counter, and -he was startled into a consciousness of where he was and what he was -doing. He glanced at the whisky--with a kind of shiver of fright. - -'God forgive me--I did not want it,' he said to the astonished youth who -was looking at him, 'but here's the money for 't.' - -He put down the few coppers on the counter and hurriedly left the place. -But the sudden fright was all. As he sped away out to Pollokshaws he -was not haunted by any consciousness of having escaped from danger. He -was sure enough of himself in that direction. If a mortal craving for -drink had seized him, he would almost have been glad of the fight; it -would be something to slay the dragon, for Meenie's sake. But he had -naturally a sound and firm constitution; his dissipation had not lasted -long enough to destroy his strength of will; and indeed this incident of -the public-house, so far from terrifying him with any doubts as to the -future, only served to remind him that dreams and visions--and brains -gone 'daft' with access of joy--are not appropriate to the thoroughfares -of a business city. - -No; as he walked rapidly away from the town, by way of Strathbungo and -Crossmyloof and Shawlands, what he was chiefly busy with was the -hammering out of some tune that would fit the winter song he had chanced -upon a few days before. And now he did not regard those gay and -galloping verses with a stupefied wonder as to how he ever came to write -them; rather he tried to reach again to that same pitch of -light-heartedness; and of course it was for Meenie's delight, and for -hers only, that this tune had to be got at somehow. It was a laughing, -glad kind of a tune that he wanted: - -_O then the warm west winds will blow,_ - _And all in the sunny weather_ -_It's over the moorlands we will go,_ - _You and I, my love, together._ - -_Chorus: And then the birds will begin to sing,_ - _And we will sing too, my dear,_ - _To give good welcoming to the spring,_ - _In the primrose-time o' the year--_ - - _In the primrose-time,_ - _In the primrose-time,_ - _In the primrose-time o' the year--_ -_To give good welcoming to the spring._ - _In the primrose-time o' the year._ - -Yes; and it was in the coming spring-time that he was to try for the -certificate in forestry; and thereafter--if he were so fortunate as to -get that--he might set forth on the path that the Americans had so -confidently sketched out for him--the path that was now to lead him to -Meenie, as the final crown and prize. 'You may find me a gray-haired -woman, Ronald,' she had said, 'but you will find me a single woman.' -But still he was young in years; and there was hope and courage in his -veins; and what if he were to win to her, after all, before there was a -single streak of middle age in the beautiful and abundant brown tresses? - -Then, again, on the evening before the morning on which he was to meet -her in the Botanic Gardens, he undid the package containing that -anthology of verse devoted to Meenie; and began to turn the pieces over, -wondering which, or if any of them, would please her, if he took them to -her. But this was rather a visionary Meenie he found in these verses; -not the real and actual Meenie who had sate beside him on a bench in the -West End Park, and placed her hand in his, and pledged her life to him, -while the beautiful, tear-filled eyes sought his so bravely. And could -he not write something about this actual Meenie; and about Glasgow; and -the wonder she had brought into the great, prosaic city? He tried his -hand at it, anyway, for a little while: - -_The dim red fires of yonder gleaming forge_ - _Now dwell triumphant on the brow of night;_ -_A thousand chimneys blackest smoke disgorge,_ - _Repelling from the world the stars' pale light:_ - -_A little taper shines adown the street,_ - _From out her casement where she lingers still_ -_To listen to the sound of passing feet,_ - _That all the night with leaden echoes fill----_ - -But he soon stopped. This was not like Meenie at all--Meenie, who was -ever associated in his mind with flowers and birds and fair sunlight and -the joy of the summer hills. He threw that spoiled sheet into the fire; -and sought among the old pieces for one that he might copy out fairly -for her; and this is what he eventually chose: - -_All on a fair May morning_ - _The roses began to blow;_ -_Some of them tipped with crimson,_ - _Some of them tipped with snow._ - -_But they looked the one to the other,_ - _And they looked adown the glen;_ -_They looked the one to the other,_ - _And they rubbed their eyes again,_ - -_'O there is the lark in the heavens,_ - _And the mavis sings in the tree;_ -_And surely this is the summer,_ - _But Meenie we cannot see._ - -_'Surely there must be summer_ - _Coming to this far clime;_ -_And has Meenie, Love Meenie, forgotten,_ - _Or have we mistaken the time?'_ - -_Then a foxglove spake to the roses:_ - _'O hush you and cease your din;_ -_For I'm going back to my sleeping,_ - _Till Meenie brings summer in.'_ - - -Well, it was but a trifle; but trifles are sometimes important things -when seen through lovers' eyes. - -Next morning he went along to the Botanic Gardens; paid his sixpence -with equanimity (for he had dispensed with the ceremony of dining the -previous day) and entered. It was rather a pleasant morning; and at -first sight he was rather shocked by the number of people--nursemaids -and children, most of them--who were idly strolling along the -trimly-kept walks or seated in front of the wide open parterres. How -was he to find Meenie in such a great place; and, if he did find her, -were they to walk up and down before so many eyes? For he had guessed -that Meenie would be in no hurry to tell her sister of what had -happened--until the future seemed a little more clear and secure; it -would be time enough to publish the news when that had assumed a more -definite character. - -But on and on he went--with glances that were keen and sharp -enough--until suddenly, just as he had passed the greenhouses, he came -almost face to face with Meenie, who was seated on a bench, all by -herself, with a book before her. But she was not reading. 'O and -proudly rose she up'; and yet shyly, too; and as he took her hand in -his, the joy with which she regarded him needed no confession in -words--it was written there in the clear tender eyes. - -'Indeed I am so glad to see you, Ronald!' she said. 'I have been so -miserable these two days-- - -'But why?' he asked. - -'I don't know, hardly. I have been wondering whether I had done right; -and then to go about with my sister, keeping this secret from her; and -then I was thinking of the going away back to Inver-Mudal, and never -seeing you, and not knowing how you were getting on. But now--now that -you are here, it seems all quite right and safe. You look as if you -brought good news. What does he think, Ronald?' - -'He?' he repeated. 'Who?' - -'The old man out there at Pollokshaws, is it?' - -Ronald laughed. - -'Oh, the old gentleman seems pretty confident; but for very shame's sake -I had to let him have a holiday to-day. I am not going over till -to-morrow.' - -'And he thinks you will pass?' - -'He seems to think so.' - -'I wish the time were here now, and that it was all well over,' she -said. 'Oh, I should be so proud, Ronald; and it will be something to -speak of to every one; and then--then that will be but the beginning; -and day by day I shall be expecting to hear the news. But what a long, -long time it seems to look forward to.' - -'Ay, lass; and it will be worse for you than for me; for there will be -the continual trying and hoping for me, and for you nothing but the -weary waiting. Well----' - -'Oh, but do you think I am afraid?' she said bravely. 'No. I have faith -in you, Ronald. I know you will do your best.' - -'I should deserve to be hanged and buried in a ditch if I did not,' said -he. 'But we will leave all that for a while, Meenie; I want you to come -for a stroll along the banks over the Kelvin. Would ye wonder to find -some sea-gulls flying about?--they're there, though; or they were there -a week or two ago. And do you know that I got a glimpse of you at the -railway station on Wednesday morning?----' - -'I did not see you, Ronald,' she said, with some surprise. - -'No, no; I kept out o' the way. It's not for me, lass, it's for you to -say when any of your folk are to be told what we are looking forward to; -and for my part I would as lief wait till I could put a clearer plan -before them--something definite.' - -'And that is my opinion too, Ronald,' she answered, in rather a low -voice. 'Let it be merely an understanding between you and me. I am -content to wait.' - -'Well, then,' said he, as they reached the top of the high bank -overhanging the river, and began to make their way down the narrow -little pathways cut through the trees and shrubs, 'here is a confession: -I was so glad to see you on that morning--and so glad to see you looking -so well--that I half lost my senses, I think; I went away through the -streets in a kind o' dream; and, sure as I'm here, I walked into a -public-house and ordered a glass of whisky----' - -She looked up in sudden alarm. - -'No, no, no,' said he contentedly, 'you need not fear that, my good -lassie; it was just that I was bewildered with having seen ye, and -thinking of where ye were going. I walked out o' the place without -touching it. Ay, and what think ye o' Dunoon? And what kind of a day -was it when ye got out on the Firth?' - -So she began to tell him of all her adventures and experiences; and by -this time they had got down near to the water's edge; and here--of what -value would his knowledge of forestry have been otherwise?--he managed -to find a seat for her. They were quite alone here--the brown river -before them; several sea-gulls placidly paddling on its surface, others -flying and dipping overhead; and if this bank of the stream was in -shadow, the other--with some small green meadows backed by clumps of -elms and maples--was bright and fair enough in the yellow autumn -sunshine. They were in absolute silence, too, save for the continual -soft murmur of the water, and the occasional whirring by of a blackbird -seeking safety underneath a laurel bush. - -'Meenie,' said he, putting one hand on her shoulder, 'here are some -verses I copied out for ye last night--they're not much worth--but they -were written a long time ago, when little did I think I should ever dare -to put them into your hand.' - -She read them; and there was a rose colour in her face as she did so: -not that she was proud of their merit, but because of the revelation -they contained. - -'A long time ago?' she said, with averted eyes--but her heart was -beating warmly. - -'Oh,' he said, 'there are dozens and dozens of similar things, if ever -ye care to look at them. It was many a happy morning on the hill, and -many a quiet night at home, they gave me; but somehow, lass, now that I -look at them, they hardly seem to grip ye fast enough. I want something -that will bind ye closer to myself--something that ye can read when you -are back in the Highlands--something that is known only to our two -selves. Well, now, these things that I have written from time to -time--you're a long way off in them somehow--the Meenie that's in them -is not this actual Meenie, warm and kind and generous and breathing----' - -'And a little bit happy, Ronald, just at present,' she said, and she -took his hand. - -'And some day, when I get through with busier work, I must try to write -you something for yourself----' - -'But, Ronald, all these pieces you speak of belong to me,' she said -promptly, 'and I want them, every one--every, every one. Yes, and I -specially want that letter--if you have not kept it, then you must -remember it, and write it out for me again----' - -'I came across it last night,' said he, with an embarrassed laugh. -'Indeed I don't wonder you were angry.' - -'I have told you before, Ronald, that I was not angry,' she said, with a -touch of vexation. 'Perhaps I was a little--a little frightened--and -scarcely knowing how much you meant----' - -'Well, you know now, Meenie dear; but last night, when I was going over -those scraps of things, I can tell you I was inclined to draw back. I -kept saying to myself--"What! is she really going to see herself talked -about in this way?" For there's a good deal of love-making in them, -Meenie, and that's a fact; I knew I could say what I liked, since no one -would be any the wiser, but, last night, when I looked at some of them, -I said--"No; I'm not going to provoke a quarrel with Meenie. She would -fling things about, as the American used to say, if she saw all this -audacious song-writing about her."' - -'I'll chance that quarrel, Ronald,' she answered to this, 'for I want -every, every, every one of them; and you must copy them all, for I am -going to take them with me when I leave Glasgow.' - -'And, indeed,' said he, 'you'll understand them better in the Highlands; -for they're all about Ben Loyal, and the Mudal, and Loch Naver, and -Clebrig.' - -'And to think you hid them from me all that time!' - -'Why, Meenie darling, you would have called on the whole population to -drive me out of the place if I had shown them to you. Think of the -effect produced by a single glance at one of them!--you tortured me for -weeks wondering how I had offended you.' - -'Well, you can't offend me now, Ronald, _that way_,' said she, very -prettily. - -And so their lovers' talk went on, until it was time for Meenie to think -of returning home. But just beyond these Botanic Gardens, and down in a -secluded nook by the side of the river, there is a little spring that is -variously known as the Three-Tree Well and the Pear-Tree Well. It is a -limpid little stream, running into the Kelvin; it rises in a tiny cavern -and flows for a few yards through a cleft in the rocks. Now these -rocks, underneath the overarching trees, have been worn quite smooth -(except where they are scored with names) by the footsteps of generation -after generation of lovers who, in obedience to an old and fond custom, -have come hither to plight their troth while joining hands over the -brooklet. Properly the two sweethearts, each standing on one side, -ought to join their hands on a Bible as they vow their vows, and -thereafter should break a sixpence in twain, each carrying away the -half; but these minor points are not necessary to the efficacy of this -probably pagan rite. And so--supposing that Ronald had heard of this -place of sacred pilgrimage, and had indeed discovered its whereabouts in -his rambles around Glasgow--and supposing him to have got a friendly -under-gardener to unlock a gate in the western palisades of the -Gardens--and then, if he were to ask Meenie to step down to the -river-side and walk along to the hallowed well? And yet he made of it -no solemn ceremony; the morning was bright and clear around them; and -Meenie was rather inclined to smile at the curious old custom. But she -went through it nevertheless; and then he slept across the rill again; -and said he-- - -'There's but this remaining now, Meenie darling--"Ae fond kiss and then -we sever."' - -She stepped back in affright. - -'Ronald, not with that song on your lips! Don't you remember what it -goes on to say?' - -'Well, I don't,' he answered good-naturedly; for he had quoted the -phrase at random. - -'Why, don't you remember?-- - -_"Had we never loved sae kindly,_ -_Had we never loved sae blindly,_ -_Never met--or never parted,_ -_We had ne'er been broken-hearted."_ - - -'My good-hearted lass,' said he, interlinking his arm with hers, 'ye -must not be superstitious. What's in a song? There'll be no severance -betwixt you and me--the Pear-Tree Well has settled that.' - -'And that is not at all superstition?' said she, looking up with a -smile--until she suddenly found her blushing face overshadowed. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII.* - - *THE COMING OF TROUBLES.* - - -These were halcyon days. Those two had arrived at a pretty accurate -understanding of the times of each other's comings and goings; and if -they could snatch but five minutes together, as he was on his way over -to the south, well, that was something; and not unfrequently the -lingering good-bye was lengthened out to a quarter of an hour; and then -again when high fortune was in the ascendant, a whole golden hour was -theirs--that was as precious as a year of life. For their -hastily-snatched interviews the most convenient and secret rendezvous -was Hill Street, Garnet Hill; a quiet little thoroughfare, too steep for -cabs or carriages to ascend. And very cheerful and bright and pleasant -this still neighbourhood looked on those October mornings; for there was -yet some crisp and yellow foliage on the trees; and the little patches -of green within the railings lay warm in the light; and on the northern -side of the street the house-fronts were of a comfortable sunny gray. -Ordinarily there were so few people about that these two could walk hand -in hand, if they chose; or they could stand still, and converse face to -face, when some more than usually interesting talk was going forward. -And it was quite astonishing what a lot of things they had to say to -each other, and the importance that attached to the very least of them. - -But one piece of news that Meenie brought to these stolen interviews was -by no means insignificant: she was now receiving marked attentions from -a young Glasgow gentleman--attentions that her sister had perceived at a -very early period, though Meenie had striven to remain blind to them. -Nor was there anything very singular in this. Mr. Gemmill was -exceedingly proud of his pretty sister-in-law; he had asked lots of -people to the house for the very purpose of meeting her; she was the -centre of interest and attraction at these numerous gatherings; and what -more natural than that some susceptible youth should have his mind -disturbed by an unwitting glance or two from those clear Highland eyes? -And what rendered this prospect so pleasing to the Gemmills was this: -the young man who had been stricken by these unintentional darts was no -other than the only son of the founder of the firm in which Mr. Gemmill -was a junior partner--the old gentleman having retired from the business -some dozen years before, carrying with him a very substantial fortune -indeed, to which this son was sole heir. In more ways than one this -match, if it were to be a match, would be highly advantageous; and Mrs. -Gemmill, while saying little, was secretly rejoiced to see everything -going on so well. If Meenie chanced to ask what such and such a piece -was (Mr. Frank Lauder played a little), even that slight expression of -interest was inevitably followed by her receiving the sheet of music by -post next morning. Flowers, again: one cannot very well refuse to -accept flowers; they are not like other gifts; they may mean nothing. -Then, it was quite remarkable how often he found himself going to the -very same theatre or the very same concert that the Gemmills had -arranged to take Meenie to; and naturally--as it chanced he had no one -going with him--he asked to be allowed to go with them. He even talked -of taking a seat in Maple Street Church (this was the church that the -Gemmills attended), for he said that he was tired to death of the -preaching of that old fogey, Dr. Teith, and that Mr. Smilie's last -volume of poems (Mr. Smilie was the Maple Street Church minister) had -aroused in him a great curiosity to hear his sermons. - -And as for Mr. Frank Lauder himself--well, he was pretty much as other -young Glasgow men of fashion; though, to be sure, these form a race by -themselves, and a very curious race too. They are for the most part a -good-natured set of lads; free and generous in their ways; not anything -like the wild Lotharios which, amongst themselves, they profess to be; -well dressed; a little lacking in repose of manner; many of them given -to boating and yachting--and some of them even expert seamen; nearly all -of them fond of airing a bit of Cockney slang picked up in a London -music hall during a fortnight's visit to town. But their most odd -characteristic is an affectation of knowingness--as if they had read the -book of nature and human nature through to the last chapter; whereas -these well-dressed, good-natured, but rather brainless young men are as -innocently ignorant of that book as of most other books. Knowing but one -language--and that imperfectly--is no doubt a bar to travel; but surely -nowhere else on the face of the globe could one find a set of young -fellows--with similar opportunities set before them--content to remain -so thoroughly untutored and untravelled; and nowhere else a set of -youths who, while professing to be men of the world, could show -themselves so absolutely unversed in the world's ways. But they (or -some of them) understand the lines of a yacht; and they don't drink -champagne as sweet as they used to do; and no doubt, as they grow into -middle age, they will throw aside the crude affectations of youth, and -assume a respectable gravity of manner, and eventually become solid and -substantial pillars of the Free, U.P., and Established Churches. - -This Frank Lauder was rather a favourable specimen of his class; -perhaps, in his extreme desire to ingratiate himself with Meenie, he -assumed a modesty of demeanour that was not quite natural to him. But -his self-satisfied jocosity, his mean interpretation of human motives, -his familiarly conventional opinions in all matters connected with the -arts, could not always be hidden beneath this mask of meekness; and -Meenie's shrewd eyes had discerned clearly of what kind he was at a very -early period of their acquaintance. For one thing, her solitary life in -the Highlands had made of her a diligent and extensive reader; while her -association with Ronald had taught her keen independence of judgment; -and she was almost ashamed to find how absolutely unlettered this youth -was, and how he would feebly try to discover what her opinion was, in -order to express agreement with it. That was not Ronald's way. Ronald -took her sharply to task when she fell away from his standard--or rather -their conjoint standard--in some of her small preferences. Even in -music, of which this young gentleman knew a little, his tastes were the -tastes of the mob. - -'Why do you always get away from the room when Mr. Lauder sits down to -the piano?' her sister said, with some touch of resentment. - -'I can endure a little Offenbach,' she answered saucily, 'when I'm -strong and in good health. But we get a little too much of it when he -comes here.' - -Of course Ronald was given to know of these visits and of their obvious -aim; but he did not seem very deeply concerned. - -'You know I can't help it, Ronald,' she said, one morning, as they were -slowly climbing the steep little Randolph Terrace together, her hand -resting on his arm. 'I can't tell him to go away while my sister keeps -asking him to the house. They say that a girl can always show by her -manner when any attention is displeasing to her. Well, that depends. I -can't be downright rude--I am staying in my sister's house. And then, I -wouldn't say he was conceited--I wouldn't say that, Ronald--but--but he -is pretty well satisfied with himself; and perhaps not so sensitive -about one's manner towards him as some might be. As for you, Ronald,' -she said, with a laugh, 'I could send you flying, like a bolt from a -bow, with a single look.' - -'Could you, lass?' said he. 'I doubt it. Perhaps I would refuse to -budge. I have got charge of you now.' - -'Ah, well, I am not likely to try, I think,' she continued. 'But about -this Mr. Lauder, Ronald--you see, he is a very important person in Mr. -Gemmill's eyes; for he and his father have still some interest in the -warehouse, I suppose; and I know he thinks it is time that Mr. Gemmill's -name should be mentioned in the firm--not mere "Co." And that would -please Agatha too; and so they're very polite to him; and they expect me -to be very polite to him too. You see, Ronald, I can't tell him to go -away until he says something--either to me or to Agatha; and he won't -take a hint, though he must see that I would rather not have him send -flowers and music and that; and then, again, I sometimes think it is not -fair to you, Ronald, that I should allow anything of the kind to go -on--merely through the difficulty of speaking----' - -He stopped, and put his hand over the hand that lay on his arm: there -was not a human being in sight. - -'Tell me this, Meenie darling: does his coming to the house vex you and -trouble you?' - -'Oh no--not in the least,' said she, blithely and yet seriously. 'I am -rather pleased when he comes to the house. When he is there of an -evening, and I have the chance of sitting and looking at him, it makes -me quite happy.' - -This was rather a startling statement, and instantly she saw a quick, -strange look in his eyes. - -'But you don't understand, Ronald,' she said placidly, and without -taking away her eyes from his. 'Every time I look at him I think of -you, and it's the difference that makes me glad.' - -Halcyon days indeed; and Glasgow became a radiant golden city in this -happy autumn time; and each meeting was sweeter and dearer than its -predecessor; and their twin lives seemed to be floating along together -on a river of joy. With what a covetous care she treasured up each -fragment of verse he brought her, and hid it away in a little thin -leathern case she had herself made, so that she could wear it next her -heart. He purchased for her little presents--such as he could -afford--to show her that he was thinking of her on the days when they -could not meet; and when she took these, and kissed them, it was not of -their pecuniary value she was thinking. As for her, she had vast -schemes as to what she was going to make for him when she got back to -the Highlands. Here, in Glasgow, nothing of the kind was possible. Her -sister's eyes were too sharp, and her own time too much occupied. -Indeed, what between the real lover, who was greedy of every moment she -could spare for these secret interviews, and the pseudo lover, who kept -the Queen's Crescent household in a constant turmoil of engagements and -entertainments and visits, Rose Meenie found the hours sufficiently -full; and the days of her stay in Glasgow were going by rapidly. - -'But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things must be;' and the -ending, in this case, was the work of the widow Menzies. Kate felt -herself at once aggrieved and perplexed by Ronald's continued absence; -but she was even more astonished when, on sending to make inquiries, she -found he had left his lodgings and gone elsewhere, leaving no address. -She saw a purpose in this; she leapt to the conclusion that a woman had -something to do with it; and in her jealous anger and mortification she -determined on leaving no stone unturned to discover his whereabouts. But -her two cronies, Laidlaw and old Jaap (the skipper was away at sea -again), seemed quite powerless to aid her. They knew that Ronald -occasionally used to go over to Pollokshaws; but further than that, -nothing. He never came to the Harmony Club now; and not one of his -former companions knew anything about him. Old Mr. Jaap hoped that no -harm had come to the lad, whom he liked; but Jimmy Laidlaw was none so -sorry over this disappearance: he might himself have a better chance -with the widow, now that Kate's handsome cousin was out of the way. - -It was Kate herself who made the discovery, ami that in the simplest -manner possible. She and mother Paterson had been away somewhere -outside the town for a drive: and they were returning by the Great -Western Road, one evening towards dusk, when all at once the widow -caught sight of Ronald, at some distance off, and just as he was in the -act of saying good-bye to a woman--to a young girl apparently. Kate -pulled up the cob so suddenly that she nearly pitched her companion -headlong into the street. - -'What is it, Katie dear?' - -She did not answer; she let the cob move forward a yard or two, so as to -get the dog-cart close in by the pavement; and then she waited--watching -with an eager scrutiny this figure that was now coming along. Meenie -did not notice her; probably the girl was too busy with her own -thoughts; but these could not have been sad ones, for the bright young -face, with its tender colour rather heightened by the sharpness of the -evening air, seemed happy enough. - -'Flying high, he is,' was Kate Menzies's inward comment as she marked -the smart costume and the well-bred air and carriage of this young lady. - -And then, the moment she had passed, Kate said quickly-- - -'Here, auntie, take the reins, and wait here. Never mind how long. -He'll no stir; if you're feared, bid a laddie stand by his head.' - -'But what is't, Katie dear?' - -She did not answer; she got down from the trap; and then, at first -quickly, and afterwards more cautiously, she proceeded to follow the -girl whom she had seen parting from Ronald. Nor had she far to go, as -it turned out. Meenie left the main thoroughfare at Melrose Street--Kate -Menzies keeping fairly close up to her now; and almost directly after -was standing at the door of her sister's house in Queen's Crescent, -waiting for the ringing of the bell to be answered. It needed no -profound detective skill on the part of Mrs. Menzies to ascertain the -number of the house, so soon as the girl had gone inside; and thereafter -she hurried back to the dog-cart, and got up, and continued her driving. - -'Well, that bangs Banagher!' she said, with a loud laugh, as she smartly -touched the cob with the whip. 'The Great Western Road, of a' places in -the world! The Great Western Road--and he goes off by the New City -Road--there's a place for twa lovers to forgather! - -_"We'll meet beside the dusky glen, on yon burn side,_ -_Where the bushes form a cosie den, on yon burn side."_ - -But the Great Western Road--bless us a', and the laddie used to write -poetry!' - -'But what is it, Katie?' - -'Why, it's Ronald and his lass, woman: didna ye see them? Oh ay, he's -carried his good looks to a braw market--set her up wi' her velvet hat -and her sealskin coat, and living in Queen's Crescent forbye. Ay, ay, -he's ta'en his pigs to a braw market----' - -'It's no possible, Katie dear!' exclaimed mother Paterson, who affected -to be very much shocked. 'Your cousin Ronald wi' a sweetheart?--and him -so much indebted to you----' - -'The twa canary birds!' she continued, with mirth that sounded not quite -real. 'But never a kiss at parting, wi' a' they folk about. And that's -why ye've been hiding yourself away, my lad? But I jalouse that that -braw young leddy o' yours would laugh the other side of her mouth if her -friends were to find out her pranks.' - -And indeed that was the thought that chiefly occupied her mind during -the rest of the drive home. Arrived there, she called for the -Post-Office Directory, and found that the name of the people living in -that house in Queen's Crescent was Gemmill. She asked her cronies, when -they turned up in the evening, who this Gemmill was; but neither of them -knew. Accordingly, being left to her own resources, and without letting -even mother Paterson know, she took a sheet of paper and wrote as -follows-- - -'SIR--Who is the young lady in your house who keeps appointments with -Ronald Strang, formerly of Inver-Mudal? Keep a better look-out. Yours, -A Friend.' - -And this she enclosed in an envelope, and directed it to Mr. Gemmill of -such and such a number, Queen's Crescent, and herself took it to the -post. It was a mere random shot, for she had nothing to go upon but her -own sudden suspicions; but she was angry and hot-headed; and in no case, -she considered, would this do any harm. - -She succeeded far better than she could have expected. Mr. Gemmill -handed the anonymous note to his wife with a brief laugh of derision. -But Agatha (who knew more about Ronald Strang than he) looked startled. -She would not say anything. She would not admit to her husband that -this was anything but an idle piece of malice. Nevertheless, when Mr. -Gemmill left for the city, she began to consider what she should do. - -Unfortunately, as it happened that morning, Meenie just played into her -sister's hand. - -'Aggie dear, I am going along to Sauchiehall Street for some more of -that crimson wool: can I bring you anything?' - -'No, thank you,' she said; and then instantly it occurred to her that -she would go out and follow her sister, just to see whether there might -be any ground for this anonymous warning. It certainly was a strange -thing that any one should know that Meenie and Ronald Strang were even -acquainted. - -And at first--as she kept a shrewd eye on the girl, whom she allowed to -precede her by some distance--all seemed to go well. Meenie looked -neither to the right nor to the left as she walked, with some quickness, -along St. George's Road towards Sauchiehall Street. When she reached -the wool shop and entered, Mrs. Gemmill's conscience smote her--why -should she have been so quick to harbour suspicions of her own sister? -But she would still watch her on the homeward way--just to make sure. - -When Meenie came out again from the shop she looked at her watch; and it -was clear that she was now quickening her pace as she set forth. Why -this hurry, Mrs. Gemmill asked herself?--the girl was not so busy at -home. But the solution of the mystery was soon apparent. Meenie -arrived at the corner of Hill Street; gave one quick glance up the quiet -little thoroughfare; the next moment Mrs. Gemmill recognised well -enough--for she had seen him once or twice in the Highlands--who this -well-built, straight-limbed young fellow was who was now coming down the -steep little street at such a swinging pace. And Meenie went forward to -meet him, with her face upturned to his; and she put her hand on his arm -quite as if that were her familiar custom; and away these two -went--slowly, it is true, for the ascent was steep--and clearly they -were heeding not anything and not anybody around. - -Agatha turned away and went home; she had seen enough. To say that she -was deeply shocked would hardly be true; for there are very few young -women who have not, at some time or other in their lives, made an -innocent little arrangement by which they might enjoy an unobserved -interview with the object of their choice; and, if there are any such -extremely proper young persons, Agatha Gemmill knew that she had not -been in the category herself. But she was resolved upon being both -indignant and angry. It was her duty. There was this girl wilfully -throwing away all the chances of her life. A gamekeeper!--that her -sister should be for marrying a gamekeeper just at the time that Mr. -Gemmill expected to have his name announced as a partner in the great -firm! Nay, she made no doubt that Meenie had come to Glasgow for the -very purpose of seeking him out. And what was to become of young Frank -Lauder? Indeed, by the time Meenie returned home, her sister had -succeeded in nursing up a considerable volume of wrath; for she -considered she was doing well to be angry. - -But when the battle-royal did begin, it was at first all on one side. -Meenie did not seek to deny anything. She quite calmly admitted that -she meant to marry Ronald, if ever their circumstances should be so -favourable. She even confessed that she had come to Glasgow in the hope -of seeing him. Had she no shame in making such an avowal?--no, she -said, she had none; none at all. And what had she meant by encouraging -Mr. Lauder?--she had not encouraged him in any way, she answered; she -would rather have had none of his attentions. - -But it was when the elder sister began to speak angrily and -contemptuously of Ronald that the younger sister's eyes flashed fire and -her lips grew pale. - -'A gentleman?' she retorted. 'I might marry a gentleman? I tell you -there is no such gentleman--in manner, in disposition, in education--I -say there is no such gentleman as he is comes to this house!' - -'Deary me!' said Agatha sarcastically, but she was rather frightened by -this unwonted vehemence. 'To think that a gamekeeper----' - -'He is not a gamekeeper! He will never be a gamekeeper again. But if -he were, what should I care? It was as a gamekeeper that I learnt to -know him. It was as a gamekeeper that I gave him my love. Do you think -I care what occupation he follows when I know what he is himself?' - -'Hoity-toity! Here's romance in the nineteenth century!--and from you, -Meenie, that were always such a sensible girl! But I'll have nothing to -do with it. Back you pack to the Highlands, and at once; that's what I -have got to say.' - -'I am quite willing to go back,' the girl said proudly. - -'Ah, because you think you will be allowed to write to him; and that all -the fine courting will go on that way; and I've no doubt you're thinking -he's going to make money in Glasgow--for a girl as mad as you seem to be -will believe anything. Well, don't believe _that_. Don't believe you -will have any fine love-making in absence, and all that kind of stuff. -Mother will take good care. I should not wonder if she sent you to a -school in Germany, if the expense were not too great--how would you like -that?' - -'But she will not.' - -'Why, then?' - -'Because I will not go.' - -'Here's bravery! I suppose you want something more heroic--drowning -yourself because of your lost love--or locking yourself up in a convent -to escape from your cruel parents--something that will make the papers -write things about you? But I think you will find a difference after -you have been two or three months at Inver-Mudal. Perhaps you will have -come to your senses then. Perhaps you will have learnt what it was to -have had a good prospect of settling yourself in life--with a -respectable well-conducted young man--of good family--the Lauders of -Craig themselves are not in the least ashamed that some of the family -have been in business--yes, you will think of that, and that you threw -the chance away because of an infatuation about a drunken -ne'er-do-weel----' - -'He is not--he is not!' she said passionately; and her cheeks were -white; but there was something grasping her heart, and like to suffocate -her, so that she could not protest more. - -'Anyway, I will take care that I shall have nothing to do with it,' the -elder sister continued; 'and if you should see him again before you go, -I would advise you to bid him good-bye, for it will be the last time. -Mother will take care of that, or I am mistaken.' - -She left the room; and the girl remained alone--proud and pale and -rebellious; but still with this dreadful weight upon her heart, of -despair and fear that she would not acknowledge. If only she could see -Ronald! One word from him--one look--would be enough. But if this were -true?--if she were never to be allowed to hear from him again?--they -might even appeal to himself, and who could say what promise they might -not extract from him, if they were sufficiently cunning of approach? -They might say it was for her welfare--they might appeal to his -honour--they might win some pledge from him--and she knowing nothing of -it all! If only she could see him for one moment! The very pulses of -her blood seemed to keep repeating his name at every throb--yearning -towards him, as it were; and at last she threw herself down on the sofa -and buried her head in the cushion, and burst into a wild and -long-continued fit of weeping and sobbing. But this in time lightened -the weight at her heart, at any rate; and when at length she rose--with -tear-stained cheeks and tremulous lips and dishevelled hair--there was -still something in her look that showed that the courage with which she -had faced her sister was not altogether gone; and soon the lips had less -of tremulousness about them than of a proud decision; and there was that -in the very calmness of her demeanour that would have warned all whom it -might concern that the days of her placid and obedient girlhood were -over. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX.* - - *IN OTHER CLIMES.* - - -Never was there a gayer party than this that was walking from the hotel -towards the shores of Lake George, on a brilliant and blue-skied October -morning. Perhaps the most demure--or the most professedly demure--was -Miss Carry Hodson herself, who affected to walk apart a little; and -swung carelessly the fur cape she carried in her hand; and refused all -kinds of attentions from a tall, lank, long-haired young man who humbly -followed her; and pretended that she was wholly engrossed with the air -of - -_'I'm in love, sweet Mistress Prue,_ - _Sooth I can't conceal it;_ -_My poor heart is broke in two---_ - _You alone can heal it.'_ - -As for the others of this light-hearted and laughing group of young -folk, they were these: Miss Kerfoot, a fresh-coloured, plump, -pleasant-looking girl, wearing much elaborate head-gear rather out of -proportion to her stature; her married sister, Mrs. Lalor, a grass-widow -who was kind enough to play chaperon to the young people, but whose -effective black eyes had a little trick of roving on their own -account--perhaps merely in quest of a joke; Dr. Thomas P. Tilley, an -adolescent practitioner, who might have inspired a little more -confidence in his patients had he condescended to powder his profuse -chestnut-brown hair; and, finally, the long and lank gentleman who -waited so humbly on Miss Hodson, and who was Mr. J. C. Huysen, of the -_Chicago Citizen_. Miss Carry had at length--and after abundant meek -intercession and explanations and expressions of remorse--pardoned the -repentant editor for his treatment of Ronald. It was none of his doing, -he vowed and declared. It was some young jackass whom the proprietors -of the paper had introduced to him. The article had slipped in without -his having seen it first. If only her Scotch friend would write -something more, he would undertake that the _Chicago Citizen_ would -treat it with the greatest respect. And so forth. Miss Carry was for a -long time obdurate, and affected to think that it was poetical jealousy -on his part (for the lank-haired editor had himself in former days -written and published sentimental verse--a fact which was not forgotten -by one or two of the wicked young men on the staff of the _N. Y. Sun_ -when Mr. Huysen adventured into the stormy arena of politics); but in -the end she restored him to favour, and found him more submissive than -ever. And in truth there was substantial reason for his submission. The -_Chicago Citizen_ paid well enough, no doubt; but the editor of that -journal had large views; and Miss Hodson's husband--if all stories were -true--would find himself in a very enviable position indeed. - -'Mayn't I carry your cape for you, Miss Hodson?' the tall editor said, -in the most pleading way in the world. - -'No, I thank you,' she answered, civilly enough; but she did not turn -her head; and she made believe that her mind was wholly set on - -_'I'm in love, sweet Mistress Prue,_ - _Sooth I can't conceal it.'_ - -This timid prayer and its repulse had not escaped the sharp observation -of Miss Kerfoot. - -'Oh,' said she, 'there's no doing anything with Carry, ever since we -came to Fort George. Nothing's good enough for her; the hills are not -high enough; and the place is not wild enough; and there's no catching -of salmon in drenching rain--so there's no amusement for her. Amusement? -I know where the trouble is; I know what amusement she wants; I know -what makes her grumble at the big hotels, and the decent clothes that -people prefer to wear, and the rattlesnakes, and all the rest. Of -course this lake can't be like the Scotch lake; there isn't a handsome -young gamekeeper here for her to flirt with. Flirtation, was it? Well, -I suppose it was, and no more. I don't understand the manners and -customs of savage nations. Look at her now. Look at that thing on her -head. I've heard of girls wearing true-love knots, and rings, and -things of that kind, to remind them of their sweethearts; but I never -heard of their going about wearing a yellow Tam-o'-Shanter.' - -Miss Carry smiled a superior smile; she would pay no heed to these -ribald remarks; apparently she was wholly engrossed with - -_'I'm in love, sweet Mistress Prue.'_ - - -'It isn't fair of you to tell tales out of school, Em,' the young matron -said. - -'But I wasn't there. If I had been, there would have been a little -better behaviour. Why, I never! Do you know how they teach girls to -use a salmon-rod in that country?' - -The question was addressed to Mr. Huysen; but Miss Kerfoot's eyes were -fixed on Miss Carry. - -'No, I don't,' he answered. - -'Oh, you don't know,' she said. 'You don't know. Really. Well, I'll -tell you. The gamekeeper--and the handsomer the better--stands -overlooking the girl's shoulder; and she holds the rod; and he grips her -hand and the rod at the same time.' - -'But I know how,' the young Doctor interposed. 'See here--give me your -hand--I'll show you in a minute.' - -'Oh no, you shan't,' said she, instantly disengaging herself; 'this is a -respectable country. We don't do such things in New York State. Of -course, over there it's different. Oh yes; if I were there -myself--and--and if the gamekeeper was handsome enough--and if he asked -me to have a lesson in salmon-fishing--don't you think I would go? Why, -I should smile!' - -But here Miss Carry burst out laughing; for her friend had been caught. -These two girls were in the habit of talking the direst slang between -themselves (and occasionally Miss Carry practised a little of it on her -papa), but this wickedness they did in secret; outsiders were not -supposed to know anything of that. And now Dr. Tilley did not seem very -much pleased at hearing Miss Kerfoot say 'I should smile'; and Miss -Kerfoot looked self-conscious and amused and a little embarrassed; and -Carry kept on laughing. However, it all blew over; for now they were -down at the landing stage; and presently the Doctor was handing them -into the spick and span new cat-boat that he had just had sent through -from New York that autumn. - -Indeed it was a right joyous party that now went sailing out on the -clear lapping waters; for there was a brisk breeze blowing; and two -pairs of sweethearts in one small boat's cargo make a fair proportion; -and Lake George, in October, before the leaves are beginning to fall, is -just about as beautiful a place as any one can want. The far low hills -were all red and brown and yellow with maple and scrub oak, except where -the pines and the hemlocks interposed a dark blue-green; and nearer at -hand, on the silvery surface of the lake, were innumerable small wooded -islands, with a line of white foam along the windward shores; and -overhead a perfectly cloudless sky of intense and brilliant blue. And -if these were not enough for the gay voyagers, then there were other -things--laughter, sarcasm, subtle compliments, daring or stolen glances; -until at last the full tide of joy burst into song. Who can tell which -of them it was that started - -_'I'se gwine back to Dixie, no more I'se gwine to wander,_ -_My heart's turned back to Dixie, I can't stay here no longer'?_ - -No matter; nor was it of much consequence whether the words of the song -were of a highly intellectual cast, nor whether the music was of the -most distinguished character, so long as there was a chorus admirably -adapted for soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. It was very speedily clear -that this was not the first time these four had practised the chorus -(Mrs. Lalor was allowed to come in just where she pleased), nor was -there any great sadness in their interpretation of the words-- - - I'se gwine back to Dix-ie, I'se gwine back to - Dix-ie, I's gwine where to or-ange blos-soms grow, ... - ... For I hear the chil-dren call-ing, I see their sad tears - fall-ing, My heart's turn'd back to Dix-ie, And I must go. - -[Illustration: Music fragment] - -It is impossible to say how often they repeated the chorus; until Mrs. -Lalor asked the girls why they were so fond of singing about orange -blossoms, and then presently they turned to something else. - -All this time they were beating up against a stiff but steady head-wind; -the Doctor at the tiller; the lank editor standing by the mast at the -bow; the girls and their chaperon snugly ensconced in the capacious -cockpit, but still having to dodge the enormously long boom when the -boat was put about. The women-folk, of course, paid no attention to the -sailing; they never do; they were quite happy in leaving the whole -responsibility on the owner of the craft; and were entirely wrapped up -in their own petty affairs. Nay, so recklessly inconsiderate were they -that they began to be angry because Dr. Tilley would not get out his -banjo--which was in the tiny cabin, or rather locker, at the bow. They -wanted to sing 'Dancing in the Barn,' they said. What was the use of -that without a banjo to play the dance music? - -'Very well,' said the complaisant Doctor, 'we'll run into some quiet -creek in one of the islands; and then I'll see what I can do for you.' - -No, no, they said; they wanted to sing sailing; they did not wish to go -ashore, or near the shore. Well, the amiable Doctor scarce knew how to -please them, for he could not steer the boat and play the banjo at the -same time; and he was not sure about entrusting the safety of so -precious a cargo to the uncertain seamanship of the editor. However, -they were now a long way from Fort George; they might as well take a run -back in that direction; and so--the boat having been let away from the -wind and put on a fair course for the distant landing-stage--Mr. Huysen -was called down from the bow and directed as to how he should steer; and -then the Doctor went forward and got out the banjo. - -Now this 'Dancing in the Barn' (the words are idiotic enough) has a very -catching air; and no sooner had the Doctor--who was standing up on the -bit of a deck forward, where Jack Huysen had been--begun the tinkling -prelude than the girls showed little movements of hands and feet, as if -they were performing an imaginary 'cake-walk.' - -_'Oh, we'll meet at the ball in the evening,_ -_Kase I love to pass the time away'_ - ---they were all singing at it now; they did not wait for any chorus; and -Miss Carry had caught Miss Em's hand, and was holding it on high, and -keeping time to the music, as if she were in reality leading her down -the barn. - - As we move so grace-ful-ly - We're as hap-py as can be - Den swing you partners all to- - -[Illustration: Music fragment] - -ge-ther, Kase now's the time for you to larn, Ban-jos -ring-ing, Nig-gers sing-ing, And danc-ing in the barn. - -[Illustration: music fragment] - -Then came in the rippling dance--played as a solo on the banjo; and so -catching was it that the two girls stood up, and made believe to dance a -little. You see, the boat was running free before the wind, and there -was scarcely any appreciable motion, though she was going at a good -speed, for her mainsail was enormously large and the breeze was brisk. - -'I say, Huysen,' the Doctor called, while he was playing the dance, -'look what you're about. Never mind the singing. Keep her bow straight -for the landing-stage.' - -Then the next verse began-- - -_'Den we's off to work in de morning,_ - _Singing as we go out to de field,'_ - -and they all went at it with a will. And then the chorus; and then the -light rippling dance-- - -[Illustration: music fragment] - -and the two girls were on their feet again, making believe to posture a -little, while the sharp clear notes of the banjo tinkled and tinkled, -amid the steady swishing noise of the water along the side of the boat. -But all of a sudden there was a startled cry of warning--the banjo was -dropped on the deck, and the Doctor sprung aft in a vain effort to check -what he had seen was coming; the next moment the great boom came heavily -swinging along, accelerating its pace as it went out to leeward, until -there was a frightful crash that seemed to tear the whole craft to -pieces. And then, in this wild lurch, what had happened? Tilley was -the first to see. There was something in the water. He tore off his -coat and slipped over the boat's side--heeding nothing of the piercing -screams of those he had left, but shaking the wet from his eyes and nose -and mouth, and looking all around him like a Newfoundland dog. Then he -caught sight of a small floating object--some dozen yards away--and he -made for that: it was the yellow Tam-o'-Shanter, he could see; then he -heard a half-stifled cry just behind him, and turning round was just -able to catch hold of Carry Hodson before she sank a second time. -However, she was quite passive--perhaps she had been stunned by a blow -from the boom; and he was an excellent swimmer; and he could easily keep -her afloat--if only Jack Huysen knew enough about sailing to get the -boat back speedily. It was in vain to think of swimming with her to the -shore; the land was too far off; and the weight of her wet clothes was -increasing. He looked after the boat; it seemed a terrible distance -away; but as far as he could make out--through the water that was -blinding his eyes--they had got her round into the wind again and were -no doubt trying to make for him. - -Meanwhile, Jack Huysen had been so thunderstruck by what had occurred; -when his own carelessness or an awkward gust of wind had caused the -great boom to gybe, that for some seconds he seemed quite paralysed, and -of course all this time the little craft was swinging along before the -breeze. The shrieks of the women bewildered him, moreover. And then it -occurred to him that he must get back--somehow, anyhow; and more by -instinct than of knowledge he jammed down the helm, and rounded the boat -into the wind, where the big sail began to flop about with the loose -mainsheet dragging this way and that. And then he set about trying -little experiments--and in a frantic nervousness all the same; he knew, -or he discovered, that he must needs get in the mainsheet; and -eventually the boat began to make uncertain progress--uncertain, because -he had been terrified, and was afraid to keep proper way on her, so that -she staggered up into the wind incessantly. But this at all events kept -them near the course they had come; and from time to time she got ahead -a bit; and the women had ceased their shrieking, and had subsided, the -one into a terrified silence, the other into frantic weeping and -clasping of her hands. - -'Can't you--can't you look out? Why don't you look out for them?' he -cried, though he scarce knew what he said, so anxious was he about the -tiller and those puffs of wind that made the boat heel over whenever he -allowed the sail to fill. - -And then there was a cry--from Mrs. Lalor. - -'Look--look--this way--you're going away from them.' - -He could only judge by the direction of her gaze; he put the boat about. -She began to laugh, in a hysterical fashion. - -'Oh yes, yes, we are getting nearer--we are getting nearer--he sees -us--Em, Em, look!--poor Carry!--Oh, quick, quick with the boat--quick, -quick, quick!' - -But the wringing of her hands was of little avail; and indeed when they -did eventually draw cautiously close to the two people in the water, the -business of getting them dragged on board proved a difficult and anxious -matter, for the girl was quite unconscious and lay in their hands like a -corpse. The young Doctor was very much exhausted too; but at least he -preserved his senses. He sat down for a minute to recover his breath. - -'Jack,' he gasped, 'put my coat round her--wrap her warm--Mrs. Lalor, -get off her boots and stockings--chafe her feet and hands--quick.' - -And then he rose and went to where she was lying and stooped over her. - -'Yes, yes, her heart is beating--come away with that coat, man.' - -But it was his own coat that Jack Huysen had quickly taken off; and when -Carry Hodson was wrapped in it, and when the women were doing what they -could to restore her circulation, he fetched the other coat for the -young Doctor, and made him put that on, though the latter declared he -was all right now. And then the Doctor took the tiller, slacked out the -mainsheet, and once more they were running before the wind towards Fort -George. Not a word had been said about the cause of the mishap or its -possible consequences. - -These at first--and to Jack Huysen's inexpressible joy--seemed to be -trivial enough. Immediately she had recovered consciousness she sate -up, and began to say a few words--though with some difficulty; and -indeed, so brave was she, and so determined to do something to relieve -the obvious anxiety of these good friends of hers, that when at length -they reached the landing-stage and got ashore she declared that she was -quite recovered, that she could walk to the hotel as well as any of -them, that she had never felt better in her born days. Nay, she made a -joke of the whole matter, and of her heavy skirts, and of the possible -contents of Jack Huysen's coat-pockets; and when they did reach the -hotel, and when she had changed her wet garments, she came down again -looking perfectly well--if a little bit tired. - -It was not until the afternoon that she began to complain of shiverings; -and then again, when dinner time arrived, Mrs. Lalor came down with the -message that Carry had a slight headache, and would rather remain in her -room. Next morning, too, she thought she would rather not get up; she -had a slight cough, and her breathing was difficult; she had most relief -when she lay quite still. - -'What does this mean, Tom?' Jack Huysen said--and as if he feared the -answer. - -'I hope it means nothing at all,' was the reply; but the young Doctor -looked grave, and moved away, as if he did not wish to have any further -talking. - -However, there was no perceptible change for the worse that day; and -Miss Carry, when she could speak at all, said that she was doing very -well, and implored them to go away on their usual excursions, and leave -her to herself. A servant might sit outside in the passage, she said; if -she wanted her, she could ring. Of course, this only sufficed to set -Emma Kerfoot into a fit of weeping and sobbing--that Carry should think -them capable of any such heartlessness. - -But on the following morning matters were much more serious. She could -hardly speak at all; and when she did manage to utter a few panting -words she said it was a pain in her chest that was troubling her--not -much; no, no, not much, she said; she wished they would all go away and -amuse themselves; the pain would leave; she would be all right by and -by. - -'Jack, look here,' said the young Doctor, when they were together; 'I'm -afraid this is pneumonia--and a sharp attack too.' - -'Is it dangerous?' Huysen said quickly, and with rather a pale face. - -The answer to this was another question; - -'She left her mother at home, didn't she?' - -'Yes,' said he breathlessly. 'Do you want to send for her? But that -would be no use. Her mother could not travel just now; she's too much -of an invalid; why, it was she who sent Carry away on this holiday.' - -'Her father, then?' - -'Why, yes, he's at home just now. Shall I telegraph for him?' - -'No--not yet--I don't want to frighten her. We'll see in the morning.' - -But long before the morning came they discovered how things were going -with her. Late that night Mrs. Lalor, who had undertaken to sit up till -her sister should come to relieve her, stole noiselessly along to the -room of the latter and woke her. - -'Em, darling, who is Ronald?' she whispered. - -'Ronald? I don't know,' was the answer--for she was still somewhat -confused. - -'Carry is asking that one Ronald should be sent for--do come and see -her, Em--I think she's wandering a little--she says there's never any -luck in the boat except when Ronald is in it--I don't understand it at -all----' - -'But I do--I do now,' said the girl, as she hastily got up and put a -dressing-gown and some wraps around her. - -'And you'll have to send for the Doctor at once, Mary--he said he would -not be in bed till two. She must be in a fever--that's delirium--if she -thinks she is in the Highlands again.' - -And delirium it was, though of no violent kind. No, she lay quite -placidly; and it was only at times that she uttered a few indistinct -words; but those around her now perceived that her brain had mixed up -this Lake George with that other Scotch lake they had heard of, and they -guessed that it was about salmon-fishing she was thinking when she said -that it was Ronald that always brought good luck to the boat. - - - - - *CHAPTER X.* - - *A CHALLENGE.* - - -On the evening of the day on which Agatha Gemmill had made her -portentous discovery about the secret interviews between her sister and -Ronald, Mr. Gemmill--a little, red-headed man with shrewd blue -eyes--came home in very good spirits. - -'Look here, Aggie--here's an invitation for you,' he was beginning--when -he saw-that something was wrong. 'What is it now?' he asked. - -And then the story was told him--and not without a touch of indignation -in the telling. But Mr. Gemmill did not seem so horror-stricken as his -wife had expected; she began to emphasise the various points; and was -inclined to be angry with him for his coolness. - -'Girls often have fancies like that--you know well enough, Agatha,' he -said. 'All you have to do is to take a gentle way with her, and talk -common sense to her, and it will be all right. If you make a row, you -will only drive her into obstinacy. She will listen to reason; she's -not a fool; if you take a quiet and gentle way with her----' - -'A quiet and gentle way!' his wife exclaimed. 'I will take no way with -her at all--not I! I'm not going to have any responsibility of the -kind. Back she goes to the Highlands at once--that's all the way I mean -to take with her. See, there's a letter I've written to mother.' - -'Then you mean to make a hash of this affair amongst you,' said he, with -calm resignation. 'You will merely drive the girl into a corner; and -her pride will keep her there----' - -'Oh yes, men always think that women are so easily persuaded,' his wife -broke in. 'Perhaps you would like to try arguing with her yourself? -But, any way, I wash my hands of the whole matter. I shall have her -packed off home at once.' - -'I don't think you will,' the husband said quietly. 'I was going to tell -you: the Lauders are giving a big dinner-party on the 27th--that is a -fortnight hence; and here is an invitation for the three of us; and -Frank Lauder as good as admitted this morning that the thing was got up -for the very purpose of introducing Meenie to the old folk. Well, then, -I have already written and accepted; and I will tell you this--I'm not -going to offend the old gentleman just because you choose to quarrel -with your sister.' - -'Quarrel?' she retorted. 'Oh yes--she never can do any wrong. She has -made a fool of you with her pretty eyes--as she does to every man that -comes to the house. Why, they're like a set of great babies when she's -in the room; and you would think from the way they go on that she was -the Queen of Sheba--instead of the ill-tempered little brat she is.' - -But Mrs. Gemmill was a sensible woman too. - -'Of course we can't offend the old people. She'll have to stay. But as -soon as that is over, off she goes to the Highlands again; and there she -can stop until she has recovered her senses.' - -However, this invitation was but an additional grievance. She went with -it at once to Meenie's room. - -'Look at that. Read that.' - -The girl glanced at the formal note--with no great interest. - -'Do you know what that means? That was meant to introduce you to Frank -Lauder's family and friends.' - -'I do not wish to go,' Meenie said perversely. - -'But you'll have to go, for we have accepted for you. We can't offend -and insult people simply because you are bent on making a fool of -yourself. But this is what I want to say: I had intended sending you -back to Inver-Mudal at once; but now you will have to stay with us -another fortnight. Very well, during that time I forbid you to have any -communication with that man, of any kind whatever--do you hear?' - -She sate silent. - -'Do you hear?' - -'Yes, I hear,' she said. - -'Well?' - -'Very well.' - -'But it is not very well,' the elder sister said angrily. 'I want to -know what you mean to do.' - -The answer was given with perfect calmness. - -'I mean to do precisely as I have been doing. I am not ashamed of -anything I have done.' - -'What? You are not ashamed? Do you mean to tell me that you will keep -on meeting that man--in the public streets--making a spectacle of -yourself in the streets of Glasgow--and bringing disgrace on yourself -and your family?' - -'You are talking like a mad woman,' Meenie said proudly. - -'You will see whether I act like one. I say you shall not be allowed to -misconduct yourself while you are under this roof--that I will make sure -of.' - -'What will you do?' the girl said, in a strangely taunting tone: indeed, -one could scarcely have believed that this was Meenie that was speaking. -'Lock me up in my room? They only do that in books. Besides, Mr. -Gemmill would prevent your doing anything so ridiculous.' - -'Oh, it's he that would come to let you out?' the elder sister said. -'You've discovered that, have you? What more, I wonder!' - -But here the scene, which threatened to become more and more stormy, -came to a sudden end. There was a sharp call from below--Mr. Gemmill -having doubtless overheard some of these wild words. - -'Agatha, come downstairs at once!' - -So the girl was left once more alone--proud and pale and trembling a -little, but with her mind more obdurate than ever. Nor would she go -down to supper that night. Mr. Gemmill went twice to the door of her -room (his wife would not budge a foot) and begged her to come -downstairs. The first time she said she did not wish for any supper. -The second time she said that if her conduct had been so disgraceful she -was not fit to associate with his family. And so, being by nature a -kindly-hearted man, he went away and got some food for her, and carried -the little tray to her room with his own hands--a proceeding that only -made his wife the angrier. Why should she be spoilt and petted with -such foolish indulgence? Starvation was the best cure for her pride. -But of course he was like the rest of the men--made simpletons of by a -pair of girl's gray eyes. - -Alas! all her pride and courage went from her in the long dark hours of -the night, and her sister's threats assumed a more definite and terrible -meaning. It was true she had a fortnight's respite--during that -fortnight she was her own mistress and could do as she pleased--but -after? Would she be shut up in that little hamlet in the northern -wilds, with absolutely no means of learning anything about Ronald, not -permitted to mention his name, cut off from him as though he were in -another world? She saw month after month go by--or year after year -even--with no word or message coming to keep alive the fond hope in her -breast. He might even be dead without her knowing. And how all too -short this fortnight seemed, during which she might still have some -chance of seeing him and gaining from him some assurance with regard to -a future that looked more than ever uncertain and vague. - -The next day it had been arranged between them that they were not to -meet, for he was to be at home all that day and busy; but her anxiety -was too great; she resolved to go to his lodgings and ask for him. She -had never done that before; but now the crisis was too serious to let -her heed what any one might say--indeed she did not think for a moment -about it. So all the morning she went about the house, performing such -small duties as had been entrusted to her, and wondering when the heavy -rain would leave off. At last, about noon, when the dismal skies gave -no sign of clearing, she got her ulster and deerstalker's cap, put on a -thick pair of boots, and, armed with a stout umbrella, went out into the -black and dripping world. No one had attempted to hinder her. - -And yet it was with some curious sense of shame that she timidly rang -the bell when she reached these obscure lodgings. The door was in a -dusky entry; the landlady who answered the summons did not notice how -the girl's cheeks were unusually flushed when she asked if Mr. Ronald -Strang were at home. - -'Yes, he is,' the woman said; and then she hesitated, apparently not -quite knowing whether she should ask the young lady to step within or -not. - -'Will you tell him that I should like to see him for a moment--here!' -she said. - -In less than a minute Ronald was with her--and he had brought his cap in -his hand; for he had guessed who this was; and instinctively he knew -that he could not ask her to come within doors. But when she said she -had something to say to him, and turned to face the dismal day outside, -he could not but glance at the swimming pavements and the murky -atmosphere. - -'On such a morning, Meenie-- - -'Oh, but I am well wrapped up,' she said, quite happily--for the mere -sight of him had restored her courage, 'and you shall have the -umbrella--yes--I insist--take it--well, then, I ask you to take it as a -favour, for I am not going to have you get wet on my account.' - -Of course he took the umbrella--to hold over her; and so they went out -into the wet streets. - -'I am so glad to see you, Ronald,' she said, looking up with a face that -told its own story of joy and confidence; 'don't blame me; I have been -miserable; I could not help coming to ask you for a little--a little -comfort, I think, and hope----' - -'But what have you been doing to your eyes, Meenie, darling? What kind -of a look is that in them?' - -'Well, I cried all last night--all the night through, I believe,' said -she simply; but there was no more crying in her eyes, only light and -love and gladness. 'And now, the moment I see you I think I must have -been so foolish. The moment I see you everything seems right; I am no -longer afraid; my heart is quite light and hopeful again.' - -'Ay, and what has been frightening you, then?' - -And then she told him all the story--as they walked along the wet -pavements, with the bedraggled passers-by hurrying through the rain, and -the tramway-cars and omnibuses and carts and cabs keeping up their -unceasing roar. But Agatha's threats were no longer so terrible to -her--now that she had hold of Ronald's arm; she glanced up at him from -time to time with eyes full of courage and confidence; a single glimpse -of him had driven away all these dire spectres and phantoms. Indeed, if -the truth were known, it was he who was most inclined to take this news -seriously; though, of course, he did not show that to her. No; he -affected to laugh at the idea that they could be kept from communicating -with each other; if she were to be sent back to Inver-Mudal, he said, -that was only anticipating what must have happened in any case; it would -no doubt be a pity to miss these few stolen minutes from time to time; -but would not that be merely a spur to further and constant exertion? - -'Ay, lass,' said he, 'if I could have any reasonable and fair prospect -to put before them, I would just go to your friends at once; but all the -wishing in the world, and all the work in the world, will not make next -spring come any the quicker; and until I'm a certificated forester I'm -loth to bother Lord Ailine, or anybody else, about a place. But what o' -that? It's not a long time; and unless Mr. Weems is making a desperate -fool o' me, I've a good chance; and Lord Ailine will do his best for me -among his friends, that I know well. In the meantime, if they will not -let you write to me----' - -'But, Ronald, how can they help my writing to you, or coming to see you, -if I wish?' - -'I was not thinking of your sister and her folk,' he answered--and he -spoke rather gravely. 'I was thinking of your father and mother. Well, -it is not a nice thing for a young lass to be in opposition to her own -folk; it's a sore trouble to both sides; and though she may be brave -enough at first, time will tell on her--especially when she sees her own -father and mother suffering through her defiance of them.' - -'Then I am not to write to you, Ronald, if they say no?' she asked -quickly, and with her face grown anxious again. - -Well, it was a difficult question to answer off-hand; and the noise in -the streets bothered him; and he was terribly troubled about Meenie -having to walk through the rain and mud. - -'Will you do this for me, Meenie?' he said. 'I cannot bear to have ye -getting wet like this. If we were to get into an omnibus, now, and go -down the town, I know a restaurant where we could go in and have a -comfortable corner, and be able to talk in peace and quiet. You and I -have never broken bread together, quite by ourselves. Will you do that?' - -She did not hesitate for a moment. - -'Yes--if you think so--if you wish it,' she said. - -And so they went down to the restaurant, which was rather a big place, -cut into small compartments; and one of these they had to themselves, -for it was but half-past twelve as yet; and by and by a frugal little -lunch was before them. The novelty of the situation was so amusing--to -Meenie at least--that for a time it drove graver thoughts away -altogether. She acted as mistress of the feast; and would insist on his -having this or that; and wondered that he had never even tasted -Worcester sauce; and was altogether tenderly solicitous about him; -whereas he, on the other hand, wished not to be bothered by any of these -things, and wanted only to know what Meenie meant to do when she went -back to Inver-Mudal. - -'But you must tell me what you would have me do,' she said timidly. - -'Well, I don't want you to quarrel with your mother and father on my -account, and be living in constant wretchedness. If they say you are -not to write to me, don't write----' - -'But you said a little while ago there would be no difficulty in our -hearing from each other,' she said, with wide open eyes. - -'I have been thinking about it, good lass,' said he, 'and I don't want -you to anger your folk and have a heavy heart in consequence. In the -meantime you must look to them--you must do what they say. By and by it -may be different; in the meantime I don't want you to get into -trouble----' - -'Then it's little you know how this will end, Ronald,' she said, rather -sadly. 'I have thought over it more than you have. If I go back to -Inver-Mudal prepared to do everything they wish me to do--I mean my -mother, not my father, for I don't know what he might say--then it isn't -only that you will never hear from me, and that I shall never hear a -word from you; there's more than that: I shall never see you again in -this world.' - -He turned very pale; and, scarcely knowing what he did, he stretched his -hand over the narrow little table, and seized her hand, and held it -firm. - -'I will not let you go, then. I will keep you here in Glasgow, with me, -Meenie. Do you think I can let you go away for ever? For you are mine. -I don't care who says ay or no; you are mine; my own true-hearted girl; -the man or woman is not born that will sunder us two.' - -Of course he had to speak in a low tone; but the grip of his hand was -sufficient emphasis. And then he said, regarding her earnestly and yet -half-hesitatingly-- - -'There is one way that would give you the right to judge what was best -for yourself--that would give you the right to act or say what you -pleased--even to leave your father's house, if that was necessary. Will -you become my wife, Meenie, before you go back to Inver-Mudal?' - -She started, as well she might; but he held her hand firm. - -'The thing is simple. There is my brother the minister. We could walk -over to his house, go through the ceremony in a few minutes, and you -could go back to your sister's, and no one be a bit the wiser. And then -surely you would be less anxious about the future; and if you thought it -right to send me a letter, you would be your own mistress as to that-- - -'It's a terrible thing, Ronald!' - -'I don't see that, Meenie, dear; I've heard of more than one young -couple taking their fate in their own hand that way. And there's one -thing about it--it "maks sikker."' - -They had some anxious talk over this sudden project--he eager, she -frightened--until the restaurant began to get crowded with its usual -middle-day customers. Then Ronald paid his modest score, and they left; -and now, as they made away for the western districts of the city, the -day was clearing up somewhat, and at times a pale silvery gleam shone -along the wet pavements. And still Meenie was undecided; and sometimes -she would timidly steal a glance at him, as if to assure herself and -gain courage; and sometimes she would wistfully look away along this -busy Sauchiehall Street, as if her future and all the coming years were -somehow at the end of it. As for him, now that he had hit upon this -daring project, he was eager in defence of it; and urged her to give her -consent there and then; and laboured to prove to her how much happier -she would be at Inver-Mudal--no matter what silence or space of time -might interpose between them--with the knowledge that this indissoluble -bond united them. Meenie remained silent for the most part, with -wistful eyes; but she clung to his arm as if for protection; and they -did not hasten their steps on their homeward way. - -When they parted she had neither said yes nor no; but she had promised -to write to him that night, and let him know her decision. And in the -morning, he got this brief message--the handwriting was not a little -shaky, but he had scarcely time to notice that, so rapid was the glance -he threw over the trembling lines:-- - - -'DEAR RONALD--If it can be done quite, quite secretly--yes. L.M.' - - -The signature, it may be explained, consisted of the initials of a pet -name that he had bestowed on her. She had found it first of all in some -of those idle verses that he now copied out for her from time to time; -and she had asked him how he had dared to address her in that way, while -as yet they were but the merest acquaintances. However, she did not seem -very angry. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI.* - - *A WEDDING.* - - -This golden-radiant city of Glasgow!--with its thousand thousand -activities all awakening to join the noise and din of the joyous -morning, and its over-arching skies full of a white light of hope and -gladness and fair assurance of the future. The clerks and warehousemen -were hurrying by to their desks and counters; work-folk were leisurely -getting home for their well-earned breakfast; smart young men and -slim-waisted women were already setting the shop windows to rights; -great lorries were clattering their loads of long iron bars through the -crowded streets; and omnibuses and tramway-cars and railway-trains were -bringing in from all points of the compass their humming freight of -eager human bees to this mighty and dusky hive. But dusky it did not -appear to him, as he was speedily making his way across the town towards -his brother's house. It was all transfigured and glorified--the -interminable thoroughfares, the sky-piercing chimneys, the masses of -warehouses, the overhead network of telegraph-lines, the red-funnelled -steamers moving slowly away through the pale blue mist of the -Broomielaw: all these were spectral in a strange kind of way, and yet -beautiful; and he could not but think that the great mass of this busy -multitude was well content with the pleasant morning, and the nebulous -pale-golden sunlight, and the glimpses of long cirrus cloud hanging far -above the city's smoke. For the moment he had ceased to hang his -happiness on the chance of his succeeding with the Highland and -Agricultural Society. Something far more important--and wonderful--was -about to happen. He was about to secure Meenie to himself for ever and -ever. Not a certificate in forestry, but Meenie's marriage-lines--that -was what would be in his pocket soon! And after?--well, the long -months, or even years, might have to go by; and she might be far enough -away from him, and condemned to silence--but she would be his wife. - -And then, just as he had reached the south side of the river, he -paused--paused abruptly, as if he had been struck. For it had suddenly -occurred to him that perhaps, after all, this fine project was not -feasible. He had been all intent on gaining Meenie's acquiescence; and, -having got that, had thought of nothing but winning over the Reverend -Andrew into being an accomplice; but now he was quickly brought up by -this unforeseen obstacle--could Meenie, not being yet twenty-one, go -through even this formal ceremony without the consent of her parents? -It seemed to him that she could not--from his reading of books. He knew -nothing of the marriage law of Scotland; but it appeared to him, from -what he could recollect of his reading, that a girl under twenty-one -could not marry without her parents' consent. And this was but the -letting in of waters. There were all kinds of other things--the -necessity of having lived a certain time in this or that parish; the -proclamation of banns--which would be merely an invitation to her -relatives to interfere; and so on. He resumed his walk; but with less -of gay assurance. He could only endeavour to fortify himself with the -reflection that in the one or two instances of which he had heard of -this very thing being done the young people had been completely -successful and had kept their secret until they judged the time fitting -for the disclosing of it. - -When he reached his brother's house, the Reverend Andrew was in his -study, engaged in the composition of the following Sunday's sermon; he -was seated at a little table near the fire; a pot of tea on the -chimney-piece; a large Bible and Cruden's Concordance lying open on the -sofa beside him. The heavy, bilious-hued man rose leisurely, and rubbed -his purplish hands, and put them underneath his coat-tails, as he turned -his back to the fire, and stood on the hearth-rug, regarding his -brother. - -'Well, Ronald, lad, ye're not frightened for a cold morning, to come out -with a jacket like that.' - -'The morning's well enough,' said Ronald briefly; and forthwith he laid -before his brother the errand on which he had come, and besought his -assistance, if that were practicable. He told the story simply and -concisely; not pleading any justification; but rather leaving the facts -to speak for themselves. And would his brother help?--in other words, -supposing there were no other obstacle in the way, would Andrew perform -this ceremony for them, and so render their future proof against all -contingencies? He was not asked for any advice; he was not asked to -assume any responsibility; would he merely exercise this clerical -function of his on their behalf--seeing how urgent matters were? - -The Reverend Andrew was very much puzzled, not to say perturbed. He -began to walk up and down the room; his head bent forward, his hands -still underneath his coat-tails. - -'You put me in a box, Ronald, and that's a fact,' said he. 'I'm -thinking my wishes as a brother will be for setting themselves up -against my duty as a minister of the Gospel. For I dare not counsel any -young girl to defy the authority of her own people----' - -'She has not asked you for any counsel,' Ronald said curtly. 'And -besides we don't know what the authority might be. I dare say, if her -father knew all the circumstances, he would be on our side; and I -suppose he has as much right to speak as her little spitfire of a -mother.' - -This was hard on Mrs. Douglas, who had always treated Ronald with -courtesy--if of a lofty and distant kind; but impetuous young people, -when their own interests are at stake, are seldom just to their elders. -However, the Reverend Andrew now began to say that, if he were -altogether an outsider, nothing would give him greater pleasure than to -see this wish of his brother's accomplished. He had observed much, he -said; he had heard more; he knew the saving influence that this girl had -exercised on Ronald's life; he could pray for nothing better than that -these two should be joined in lawful bonds, towards the strengthening of -each other, and the establishment of a mutual hope and trust. - -'But it would never do for me to be mixed up in it, Ronald,' he -continued. 'When it came to be known, think of what ill-minded folk -might say. I must have regard to my congregation as well as to myself; -and what if they were to accuse me of taking part in a conspiracy?' - -'A conspiracy?' Ronald repeated sharply. 'What kind of a conspiracy? -To steal away a rich heiress--is that it? God bless me, the lass has -nothing beyond what she stands up in! There's the sealskin coat -Glengask gave her; they can have that back, and welcome. What -conspiracy would ye make out?' - -'No, no, lad; I'm thinking what ill tongues might say.' - -'Let them lick their own venom till they rot! What care I?' - -'Yes, yes, yes, lad; but ye're not a placed minister; ye've but yourself -and her to think of. Now, just wait a bit.' - -He had gone back to his chair by the fire, and was seated there, staring -into the red coals. - -'I suppose you've heard of Dugald Mannering, of Airdrie?' he said, at -length. - -'Yes, indeed,' was the answer. 'Meenie--that is--Miss Douglas and I -went to hear him the Sunday before last, but there was not a seat to be -got anywhere--no, nor standing-room either.' - -This Mr. Mannering was a young divine of the U.P. Church who had an -extraordinary popularity at this time among the young people of the -south of Scotland, and especially the young people of Glasgow, and that -from a variety of causes. He was a singularly eloquent -preacher--flowing, ornate, and poetical; he was entirely unconventional, -not to say daring, in his choice of subjects; his quotations were as -commonly from Shakespeare and Coleridge and Byron and Browning as from -the usual pulpit authorities; he was exceedingly handsome, and rather -delicate-looking--pale and large-eyed and long-haired; and he had -refused the most flattering offers--'calls' is the proper word--from -various west-end congregations of Glasgow, because he considered it his -duty to remain among the mining-folk of Airdrie. When he did accept an -invitation to preach in this or that city church, the young people from -far and near came flocking to hear him; and a good many of their elders -too, though these were not without certain prickings of conscience as to -the propriety of devoting the Lord's day to what was remarkably like a -revel in pure literature. - -'Dugald's coming over here this afternoon,' the elder brother continued, -as if he were communing with himself. 'He's an enthusiastic kind of -fellow--he'll stick at nothing, if he thinks it's right. I wish, now, I -had that portrait--but Maggie's away to school by this time----' - -'What portrait?' Ronald asked. - -The Reverend Andrew did not answer, but rose, and slowly and -thoughtfully left the room. When he came back he had in his hand a -photograph of Meenie framed in a little frame of crimson velvet, and -that he put on the table: Ronald recognised it swiftly enough. - -'He has got an eye for a handsome young lass, has Dugald,' the minister -said shrewdly. 'I'll just have that lying about, as it were. Ay, it's -a straightforward, frank face, that; and one that has nothing to hide. -I'll just have it lying about when Dugald comes over this afternoon, and -see if he doesna pick it up and have a good look at it.' - -'But what mean ye, Andrew?' his brother said. - -'Why, then, lad, I think I'll just tell Dugald the whole story; and if -he's not as hot-headed as any of ye to carry the thing through, I'll be -surprised. And I suppose if he marries ye, that's just as good as any -one else?--for to tell you the truth, Ronald, I would rather not be -mixed up in it myself.' - -'And the banns?' said Ronald quickly. 'And the length of time in the -parish? And the consent of her mother and father?' - -The minister waved his hand with a superior air; these were trivial -things, not to say popular errors; what had been of real consequence was -the extent to which he dared implicate himself. - -'I will not say,' he observed slowly, 'that I might not, in other -circumstances, have preferred the publication of banns. It would have -been more in order, and more seemly; for I do not like the interference -of the secular arm in what should be a solely sacred office. Besides -that, there is even a premium put on publicity, as is right; five -shillings for the one proclamation, but only half-a-crown if you have -them proclaimed two following Sundays. Well, well, we mustn't complain; -I see sufficient reason; from all I can learn--and you were ever a -truth-teller, Ronald, in season and out of season, as well I mind--it -seems to me you are fulfilling the laws of God, and breaking none of -man's making; so just you go to the Registrar of the parish, and give -him the particulars, and deposit a half-crown as the worthy man's fee, -and then, eight days hence, you call on him again, and he'll give you a -certificate entitling you to be married in any house or church in the -Kingdom of Scotland. And if there's no other place handy, ye're welcome -to the room you're standing in at this minute; though I would as lief -have the marriage take place anywhere else, and that's the truth, -Ronald; for although I can defend what little I have done to my own -conscience, I'm no sure I should like to stand against the -clishmaclavers of a lot of old wives.' - -'Where am I to find the Registrar, Andrew?' he asked: he was a little -bewildered by the rapidity with which this crisis seemed approaching. - -'I suppose you've a good Scotch tongue in your head, and can ask for the -loan of a Directory,' was the laconic answer. The Reverend Andrew had -taken up the photograph again, and was regarding it. 'An honest, sweet -face; as pretty a lass as ever a man was asked to work and strive for -and to win. Well, I do not wonder, Ronald, lad--with such a prize -before you---- But off you go now, for I must get to my work again; and -if you come over and have a cup of tea in the afternoon, between four -and five, I suppose Dugald Mannering will be here, and maybe ye'll be -the best hand to explain the whole situation of affairs.' - -And so Ronald left to seek out the Registrar; and as he went away -through the busy and sunlit streets, he was asking himself if there was -not one of all those people who could guess the secret that he carried -with him in his bosom, and that kept his heart warm there. - -The Rev. Dugald Mannering, as it turned out, was not nearly so eager and -enthusiastic as Ronald's brother had prophesied; for it behoves a -youthful divine to maintain a serious and deliberative countenance, when -weighty matters are put before him for judgment. But afterwards, when -the two young men were together walking away home through the dusky -streets of Glasgow, the U.P. minister became much more frank and -friendly and communicative. - -'I see your brother's position well enough, Mr. Strang,' said he. 'I -can understand his diffidence; and it is but right that he should be -anxious not to give the envious and ill-natured a chance of talking. He -is willing to let the ceremony take place in his house, because you are -his brother. If I were you, I would rather have it take place anywhere -else--both as being fairer to him, and as being more likely to ensure -secrecy, which you seem to think necessary.' - -Ronald's face burned red: should he have to ask Meenie to come to his -humble lodgings, with the wondering, and perhaps discontented and -suspicious, landlady, as sole on-looker? - -'Well, now,' the young preacher continued, 'when I come to Glasgow, -there are two old maiden aunts of mine who are good enough to put me up. -They live in Rose Street, Garnethill; and they're very kind old people. -Now I shouldn't wonder at all if they took it into their head to -befriend the young lady on this occasion--I mean, if you will allow me -to mention the circumstances to them; indeed, I am sure they would; -probably they would be delighted; indeed I can imagine their -experiencing a fearful joy on finding this piece of romance suddenly -tumbling into the middle of their prim and methodical lives. The dear -old creatures!--I will answer for them. I will talk to them as soon as -I get home now. And do you think you could persuade Miss Douglas to -call on them?' - -Ronald hesitated. - -'If they were to send her a message, perhaps----' - -'When are you likely to see her?' - -'To-morrow morning, at eleven,' he said promptly. - -'Very well. I will get one of the old ladies to write a little note to -Miss Douglas; and I will post it to you to-night; and to-morrow morning, -if she is so inclined, bring her along and introduce yourself and -her--will you? I shall be there, so there won't be any awkwardness; and -I would not hurry you, but I've to get back to Airdrie to-morrow -afternoon. Is it a bargain?' - -'So far as I am concerned--yes; and many thanks to ye,' Ronald said, as -he bade his companion good-bye and went away home to his solitary -lodgings. - -But when, the next morning, in Randolph Terrace--and after he had -rapidly told her all that had happened--he suggested that she should -there and then go along and call on the Misses Mannering, Meenie started -back in a kind of fright, and a flush of embarrassment overspread her -face. And why--why--he asked, in wonder. - -'Oh, Ronald,' she said, glancing hurriedly at her costume, 'these--these -are the first of your friends you have asked me to go to see, and do you -think I could go like _this_?' - -'_This_' meant that she had on a plain and serviceable ulster, a smart -little hat with a ptarmigan's wing on it, a pair of not over-new gloves, -and so forth. Ronald was amazed. He considered that Meenie was always -a wonder of neatness and symmetry, no matter how she was attired. And -to think that any one might find fault with her! - -'Besides, they're not my friends,' he exclaimed. 'I never saw them in -my life.' - -'They know who your brother is,' she said. 'Do you think I would give -any one occasion to say you were marrying a slattern? Just look.' - -She held out her hands; the gloves were certainly worn. - -'Take them off, and show them the prettiest-shaped hands in Glasgow -town,' said he. - -'And my hair--I know it is all rough and untidy--isn't it now?' she -said, feeling about the rim of her hat. - -'Well, it is a little,' he confessed, 'only it's far prettier that way -than any other.' - -'Ronald,'she pleaded, 'some other time--on Friday morning--will Friday -morning do?' - -'Oh, I know what you want,' said he. 'You want to go and get on your -sealskin coat and your velvet hat and a new pair of gloves and all the -rest; and do you know what the old ladies are like to say when they see -you?--they'll say, "Here's a swell young madam to be thinking of -marrying a man that may have but a couple o' pounds a week or so at -first to keep house on."' - -'Oh, will they think that?' she said quickly. 'Well, I'll--I'll go now, -Ronald--but please make my hair smooth behind--and is my collar all -right?' - -And yet it was not such a very dreadful interview, after all; for the -two old dames made a mighty fuss over this pretty young creature; and -vied with each other in petting her, and cheering her, and counselling -her; and when the great event was spoken of in which they also were to -play a part they affected to talk in a lower tone of voice, as if it -were something mysterious and tragic and demanding the greatest caution -and circumspection. As for the young minister, he sate rather apart, -and allowed his large soft eyes to dwell upon Meenie, with something of -wistfulness in his look. He could do so with impunity, in truth, for -the old ladies entirely monopolised her. They patted her on the -shoulder, to give her courage; they spoke as if they themselves had gone -through the wedding ceremony a hundred times. Was she sure she would -rather have no other witnesses? Would she stand up at the head of the -room now, and they would show her all she would have to do? And they -stroked her hand; and purred about her; and were mysteriously elated -over their share in this romantic business; insomuch that they -altogether forgot Ronald--who was left to talk politics with the -absent-eyed young parson. - -Between this interview and the formal wedding a whole week had to -elapse; and during that time Agatha Gemmill saw fit to deal in quite a -different way with her sister. She was trying reason now, and -persuasion, and entreaty; and that at least was more agreeable to Meenie -than being driven into a position of angry antagonism. Moreover, Meenie -did not seek to vaunt her self-will and independence too openly. Her -meetings with Ronald were few; and she made no ostentatious parade of -them. She was civil to Mr. Frank Lauder when he came to the house. -Indeed, Mr. Gemmill, who arrogated to himself the success of this milder -method of treating the girl, was bold enough to declare that everything -was going on well; Meenie had as much common sense as most folk; she was -not likely to throw herself away; and when once she had seen old Mr. -Lauder's spacious mansion, and picture galleries, and what not, and -observed the style in which the family lived, he made do doubt but that -they would soon have to welcome Frank Lauder as a brother-in-law. - -Trembling, flushed at times, and pale at others, and clinging nervously -to Ronald's arm, Meenie made her way up this cold stone staircase in -Garnethill, and breathless and agitated she stood on the landing, while -he rang the bell. - -'Oh, Ronald, I hope I am doing right,' she murmured. - -'We will let the future be the judge of that, my good girl,' he said, -with modest confidence. - -The old dames almost smothered her with their attentions and kindness; -and they had a bouquet for her--all in white, as became a bride; and -they had prepared other little nick-nacks for her adornment, so that -they had to carry her off to their own room, for the donning of these. -And when they brought her back--rose-red she was, and timid, and -trembling--each of them had one of her hands, as if she was to be their -gift to give away; and very important and mysterious were they about the -shutting of the doors, and the conducting the conversation in whispers. -Then the minister came forward, and showed them with a little gesture of -his hand where they should stand before him. - -The ceremonial of a Scotch wedding is of the simplest; but the address -to the young people thus entering life together may be just anything you -please. And in truth there was a good deal more of poetry than of -theology in these mellifluent sentences of the Rev. Mr. Mannering's, as -he spoke of the obligations incurred by two young folk separating -themselves from all others and resolved upon going through the world's -joys and sorrows always side by side; and the old dames were much -affected; and when he went on to quote the verses - -_'And on her lover's arm she leant,_ - _And round her waist she felt it fold,_ -_And far across the hills they went_ - _In that new world which is the old,'_ - -they never thought of asking whether the lines were quite apposite; they -were sobbing unaffectedly and profusely; and Meenie's eyes were rather -wet too. And then, when it was all over, they caught her to their arms -as if she had been their own; and would lead her to the sofa, and -overwhelm her with all kinds of little attentions and caresses. Cake and -wine, too--of course she must have some cake and wine! - -'Should I, Ronald?' she said, looking up, with her eyes all wet and -shining and laughing: it was her first appeal to the authority of her -husband. - -'As you like--as you like, surely.' - -But when they came to him he gently refused. - -'Not on your wedding day!' the old ladies exclaimed--and then he raised -the glass to his lips; and they did not notice that he had not touched -it when he put it down again. - -And so these two were married now--whatever the future might have in -store for them; and in a brief space of time--as soon, indeed, as she -could tear herself away from these kind friends, she had dispossessed -herself of her little bits of bridal finery; and had bade a long and -lingering good-bye to Ronald; and was stealing back to her sister's -house. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII.* - - *IN DARKENED WAYS.* - - -It was with feelings not to be envied that Jack Huysen stalked up and -down the verandah in front of this Fort George hotel, or haunted the -long, echoing corridors, eager to question any one who had access to the -sick room. All the mischief seemed to be of his doing; all the help and -counsel and direction in this time of distress seemed to be afforded by -his friend Tilley. It was he--that is, Huysen--whose carelessness had -led to the boating catastrophe; it was the young Doctor who had plunged -into the lake and saved Carry's life. Not only that, but it was on his -shoulders that there now seemed to rest the burden of saving her a -second time; for she had gone from bad to worse; the fever had increased -rapidly; and while Doctor Tilley was here, there, and everywhere in his -quiet but persistent activity, taking elaborate precautions about the -temperature of the room, instructing the two trained nurses whom he had -telegraphed for from New York, and pacifying the mental vagaries of the -patient as best he might, what could Jack Huysen do but wander about -like an uneasy spirit, accusing himself of having wrought all this evil, -and desperately conscious that he could be of no use whatever in -mitigating its results. - -She was not always delirious. For the most part she lay moaning -slightly, breathing with the greatest difficulty, and complaining of -that constant pain in her chest; while her high pulse and temperature -told how the fever was rather gaining upon her than abating. But then -again, at times, her face would grow flushed; and the beautiful soft -black eyes would grow strangely bright; and she would talk in panting -whispers, in an eager kind of way, and as if she had some secret to -tell. And always the same delusion occupied her mind--that this was -Loch Naver; that they had got into trouble somehow, because Ronald was -not in the boat; that they had sent for Ronald, but he had gone away; -and so forth. And sometimes she uttered bitter reproaches; Ronald had -been ill-treated by some one; nay, she herself had been to blame; and -who was to make up to him for what he had suffered at her hands? - -'Not that he cared,' she said, rather proudly and contemptuously, one -hushed evening that the Doctor was trying to soothe her into quietude. -'No, no. Ronald care what a conceited scribbling schoolboy said about -him? No! I should think not. Perhaps he never knew--indeed, I think he -never knew. He never knew that all our friends in Chicago were asked to -look on and see him lectured, and patronised, and examined. Oh! so -clever the newspaper-writer was--with his airs of criticism and -patronage! But the coward that he was--the coward--to strike in the -dark--to sit in his little den and strike in the dark! Why didn't Jack -Huysen drag him out? Why didn't he make him sign his name, that we -could tell who this was with his braggart airs? The coward! Why, -Ronald would have felled him! No! no! He would not have looked the way -the poor pretentious fool was going. He would have laughed. Doctor, do -you know who he was? Did you ever meet him?' - -'But who, Miss Carry?' he said, as he patted her hot hand. - -She looked at him wonderingly. - -'Why, don't you know? Did you never hear? The miserable creature that -was allowed to speak ill of our Ronald. Ah! do you think I have -forgotten? Does Jack Huysen think I have forgotten? No, I will not -forget--you can tell him, I will not forget--I will not forget--I will -not forget--' - -She was growing more and more vehement; and to pacify her he had to -assure her that he himself would see this matter put straight; and that -it was all right, and that ample amends would be made. - -Of course, he paid no great attention to these delirious wanderings; but -that same evening, when he had gone into the smoking-room to report to -Jack Huysen how things were going, this complaint of Miss Carry's -happened to recur to his mind. - -'Look here, Jack, what's this that she's always talking about--seems to -worry her a good deal--some newspaper article--and you're mixed up in -it, too--something you appear to have said or done about that fellow her -father took such a fancy for--I mean, when they were in Scotland----' - -'Oh, I know,' said the editor, and he blushed to the very roots of his -long-flowing hair. 'I know. But it's an old story. It's all forgotten -now.' - -'Well, it is not,' the young Doctor said 'and that's the fact. She -worries about it continually. Very strange, now, how her mind just -happened to take that bent. I don't remember that we were talking much -about the Scotch Highlands. But they must have been in her head when -she fell ill; and now it's nothing else. Well, what is it about the -newspaper article, anyway?' - -'Why, nothing to make a fuss about,' Jack Huysen said, but rather -uneasily. 'I thought it was all forgotten. She said as much. Wonder -you don't remember the article--suppose you missed it--but it was about -this same Highland fellow, and some verses of his--it was young Regan -wrote it--confound him, I'd have kicked him into Lake Michigan before I -let him write a line in the paper, if I'd have known there was going to -be this trouble about it. And I don't think now there was much to find -fault with--I only glanced over it before sending it to her, and it -seemed to me favourable enough--of course, there was a little of the _de -haut en bas_ business--you know how young fellows like to write--but it -was favourable--very favourable, I should say--however, she chose to -work up a pretty high old row on the strength of it when she came home, -and I had my work cut out for me before I could pacify her. Why, you -don't say she's at that again? Women are such curious creatures; they -hold on to things so; I wonder, now, why it is she takes such an -interest in that fellow--after all this time?' - -'Just as likely as not the merest coincidence--some trifle that got hold -of her brain when she first became delirious,' the young Doctor said. -'I suppose the boating, and the lake, and all that, brought back -recollections of the Highlands; and she seems to have been fascinated by -the life over there--the wildness of it caught her imagination, I -suppose. She must have been in considerable danger once or twice, I -should guess; or perhaps she is mixing that up with the mishap of the -other day. Well, I know I wish her father were here. We can't do more -than what is being done; still, I wish he were here. If he can get -through to Glen Falls to-night, you may depend on it he'll come along -somehow.' - -By this time Jack Huysen was nervously pacing up and down--there was no -one but themselves in the room. - -'Now, look here, Tom,' he said, presently, 'I wish you would tell me, -honour bright: was it a squall that caught the boat, or was it downright -carelessness on my part? I may as well know. I can't take more shame -to myself anyhow--and to let you jump in after her, too, when I'm a -better swimmer than you are--I must have lost my head altogether----' - -'And much good you'd have done if you had jumped in,' the Doctor said, -'and left the two women to manage the boat. How should we have got -picked up, then?' - -'But about that gybing, now--was it my fault?' - -'No, it was mine,' the Doctor said curtly. 'I shouldn't have given up -the tiller. Fact is, the girls were just mad about that "Dancing in the -Barn"; and I was fool enough to yield to them. I tell you, Jack, it -isn't half as easy as it looks steering a boat that's running fair -before the wind; I don't blame you at all; I dare say there was a nasty -puff that caught you when you weren't looking; anyhow, it's a blessing -no one was hit by the boom--that was what I feared at first for Miss -Hodson when I found her insensible--I was afraid she had been hit about -the head----' - -'And you don't think it was absolute carelessness?' the other said -quickly. 'Mind, I was steering straight for the pier, as you said.' - -'Oh, well,' said the young Doctor evasively, 'if you had noticed in -time, you know--or when I called to you--but perhaps it was too late -then. It's no use going back on that now; what we have to do now is to -fight this fever as well as we can.' - -'I would take it over from her if I could,' Jack Huysen said, 'and -willingly enough.' - -It was not until early the next morning that Mr. Hodson arrived. He -looked dreadfully pale and harassed and fatigued; for the fact was he -was not in Chicago when they telegraphed for him; some business affairs -had called him away to the south; and the news of his daughter's illness -followed him from place to place until it found him in a remote corner -of Louisiana, whence he had travelled night and day without giving -himself an hour's rest. And now he would not stay to dip his hands and -face in cold water after his long and anxious journey; he merely asked a -few hurried questions of the Doctor; and then, stealthily and on -tip-toe, and determined to show no sign of alarm or perturbation, he -went into Carry's room. - -She had been very delirious during the night--talking wildly and -frantically in spite of all their efforts to soothe her; but now she lay -exhausted, with the flushed face, and bluish lips, and eager, restless -eyes so strangely unlike the Carry of other days. She recognised him at -once--but not as a new-comer: she appeared to think he had been there -all the time. - -'Have you seen him, pappa?' she said, in that eager way. 'Did you see -him when you were out?' - -'Who, darling?' he said, as he sate down beside her and took her wasted -hand in his. - -'Why, Ronald, to be sure! Oh, something dreadful was about to happen to -him--I don't know what it was--something dreadful and dreadful--and I -called out--at the window--at the window there--and nurse says it is all -right now--all right now----' - -'Oh yes, indeed,' her father said gently, 'you may depend it is all -right with Ronald now. Don't you fret about that.' - -'Ah, but we neglected him, pappa, we neglected him; and I worst of any,' -she went on, in that panting, breathless way. 'It was always the -same--always thinking of doing something for him, and never doing it. I -meant to have written to the innkeeper for his address in Glasgow; but -no--that was forgotten too. And then the spliced rod, that George was -to have got for me--I wanted Ronald to have the best salmon-rod that -America could make--but it was all talking--all talking. Ah, it was -never talking with him when he could do us a service--and the other -boatmen getting money, of course--and he scarcely a "thank you" when we -came away. Why didn't George get the fishing-rod?----' - -'It's all right, Carry, darling,' her father said, whispering to her, -'you lie quiet now, and get well, and you'll see what a splendid -salmon-rod we'll get for Ronald. Not that it would be of much use to -him, you see, when he's in Glasgow with his books and studies; but it -will show him we have not forgotten him. Don't you trouble about it, -now; I will see it is all right; and you will give it to him yourself, -if we go over there next spring, to try the salmon-fishing again.' - -'Then you will take George with you, pappa,' she said, regarding him -with her burning eyes. - -'Oh yes; and you----' - -'Not me, not me,' she said, shaking her head. 'I am going away. The -Doctor doesn't know; I know. They have been very kind; but--but--ask -them, pappa, not to bother me to take things now--I want to be let -alone, now you are here--it will only be for a little while----' - -'Why, what nonsense you talk!' he said--but his heart was struck with a -sudden fear, for these few straggling sentences she had uttered without -any appearance of delirium. 'I tell you, you must hasten to get well and -strong; for when George and you and I go to Scotland, there will be a -great deal of travelling to do. You know we've got to fix on that piece -of land, and see how it is all to be arranged and managed, so that -George will have a comfortable little estate of his own when he comes of -age; or maybe, if it is a pretty place, we may be selfish and keep it in -our own hands--eh, Carry?--and then, you see, we shall have to have -Ronald travel about with us, to give us his advice; and the weather may -be bad, you know, you'll have to brace yourself up. There, now, I'm not -going to talk to you any more just now. Lie still and quiet; and mind -you do everything the Doctor bids you--why, you to talk like that!--you! -I never thought you would give in, Carry: why, even as a schoolgirl you -had the pluck of a dozen! Don't you give in; and you'll see if we -haven't those two cobles out on Loch Naver before many months are over.' - -She shook her head languidly; her eyes were closed now. And he was for -slipping out of the room but that she clung to his hand for a moment. - -'Pappa,' she said, in a low voice, and she opened her eyes and regarded -him--and surely at this moment, as he said to himself, she seemed -perfectly sane and reasonable, 'I want you to promise me something.' - -'Yes, yes,' he said quickly: what was it he would not have promised in -order to soothe and quiet her mind at such a time? - -'I don't know about going with you and George,' she said, slowly, and -apparently with much difficulty. 'It seems a long way off--a long -time--and--and I hardly care now what happens. But you will look after -Ronald; you must promise me that, pappa; and tell him I was sorry; I -suppose he heard the shooting was taken, and would know why we did not -go over in the autumn; but you will find him out, pappa, and see what he -is doing; and don't let him think we forgot him altogether.' - -'Carry, darling, you leave that to me; it will be all right with Ronald, -I promise you,' her father said eagerly. 'Why, to think you should have -been worrying about that! Oh! you will see it will be all right about -Ronald, never fear!--what would you say, now, if I were to telegraph to -him to come over and see you, if only you make haste and get well?' - -These assurances, at all events, seemed to pacify her somewhat; and as -she now lay still and quiet, her father stole out of the room, hoping -that perhaps the long-prayed-for sleep might come to calm the fevered -brain. - -But the slow hours passed, and, so far from any improvement becoming -visible, her condition grew more and more serious. The two doctors--for -Doctor Tilley had summoned in additional aid--were assiduous enough; -but, when questioned, they gave evasive answers; and when Mr. Hodson -begged to be allowed to telegraph to a celebrated Boston physician, who -was also a particular friend of his own, asking him to come along at -once, they acquiesced, it is true, but it was clearly with the view of -satisfying Mr. Hodson's mind, rather than with any hope of advantage to -the patient. From him, indeed, they scarcely tried to conceal the -extreme gravity of the case. Emma Kerfoot and Mrs. Lalor were quieted -with vague assurances; but Mr. Hodson knew of the peril in which his -daughter lay; and, as it was impossible for him to go to sleep, and as -his terrible anxiety put talking to these friends out of the question, -he kept mostly to his own room, walking up and down, and fearing every -moment lest direr news should arrive. For they had been much of -companions, these two; and she was an only daughter; and her bright, -frank, lovable character--that he had watched from childhood growing -more and more beautiful and coming into closer communion with himself as -year after year went by--had wound its tendrils round his heart. That -Carry, of all people in the world, should be taken away from them so, -seemed so strange and unaccountable: she that was ever so full of life -and gaiety and confidence. The mother had been an invalid during most -of her married life; the boy George had not the strongest of -constitutions; but Carry was always to the fore with her audacious -spirits and light-heartedness, ready for anything, and the best of -travelling companions. And if she were to go, what would his life be to -him?--the light of it gone, the gladness of it vanished for ever. - -That afternoon the delirium returned; and she became more and more -wildly excited; until the paroxysm passed beyond all bounds. She -imagined that Ronald was in some deadly peril; he was alone, with no one -to help; his enemies had hold of him; they were carrying him off, to -thrust him into some black lake; she could hear the waters roaring in -the dark. It was in vain that the nurse tried to calm her and to reason -with her; the wild, frightened eyes were fixed on vacancy; and again and -again she made as if she would rush to his help, and would then sink -back exhausted and moaning, and heaping reproaches on those who were -allowing Ronald to be stricken down unaided. Then the climax came, quite -unexpectedly. The nurse--who happened at the moment to be alone with -her in the room--went to the side-table for some more ice; and she was -talking as she went; and trying to make her charge believe that -everything was going on well enough with this friend of hers in -Scotland. But all of a sudden, when the nurse's back was thus turned, -the girl sprang from the bed and rushed to the window. She tore aside -the curtains that had been tied together to deaden the light; she tugged -and strained at the under sash; she was for throwing herself out--to fly -to Ronald's succour. - -'See, see, see!' she cried, and she wrenched herself away from the -nurse's frightened grasp. 'Oh, don't you see that they are killing -him--they are killing him--and none to help! Ronald--Ronald! Oh, what -shall I do? Nurse, nurse, help me with the window--quick--quick--oh, -don't you hear him calling?--and they are driving him down to the -lake--he will be in the water soon--and -lost--lost--lost--Ronald!--Ronald!--' - -Nay, by this time she had actually succeeded in raising the under sash -of the window a few inches--notwithstanding that the nurse clung round -her, and tried to hold her arms, while she uttered shriek after shriek -to call attention; and there is no doubt that the girl, grown quite -frantic, would have succeeded in opening the window and throwing herself -out, had not Mrs. Lalor, alarmed by the shrieking of the nurse, rushed -in. Between them they got her back into bed; and eventually she calmed -down somewhat; for, indeed, this paroxysm had robbed her of all her -remaining strength. She lay in a kind of stupor now; she paid no heed -to anything that was said to her; only her eyes were restless--when any -one entered the room. - -Dr. Tilley was with her father; the younger man was apparently calm, -though rather pale; Mr. Hodson made no effort to conceal his agony of -anxiety. - -'I can only tell you what is our opinion,' the young Doctor said, -speaking for himself and his brother practitioner. 'We should be as -pleased as you could be to have Dr. Macartney here; but the delay--well, -the delay might prove dangerous. Her temperature is 107--you know what -that means?' - -'But this rolling up in a wet sheet--there is a risk, isn't there?' the -elder man said; and how keenly he was watching the expression of the -young Doctor's face! - -'I have only seen it used in extreme cases,' was the answer. 'If she -were my own daughter, or sister, that is what I would do.' - -'You have a right to speak--you have already saved her life once,' her -father said. - -'If we could only bring about a profuse perspiration,' the young Doctor -said, a little more eagerly--for he had been maintaining a -professionally dispassionate manner; 'and then if that should end in a -long deep sleep--everything would go well then. But at present every -hour that passes is against us--and her temperature showing no sign of -abating.' - -'Very well,' her father said, after a moment's involuntary hesitation. -'If you say the decision rests with me, I will decide. We will not wait -for Macartney. Do what you propose to do--I know you think it is for -the best.' - -And so it proved. Not once, but twice, within a space of seven days, -had this young Doctor saved Carry Hodson's life. That evening they were -all seated at dinner in the big dining-hall--Mrs. Lalor and her sister, -Jack Huysen, and Carry's father--though the food before them did not -seem to concern them much. They were talking amongst themselves, but -rather absently and disconnectedly; and, what was strange enough, they -spoke in rather low tones, as if that were of any avail. Dr. Tilley -came in, and walked quickly up to the table; and quite unwittingly he -put his hand on Emma Kerfoot's shoulder. - -'I have good news,' said he, and there was a kind of subdued triumph in -his eyes. 'She is sleeping as soundly--as soundly as any human being -ever slept--everything has come off well--why, I am as happy as if I had -been declared President!' But instantly he perceived that this -exuberance of triumph was not in accordance with professional gravity. -'I think there is every reason to be satisfied with the prospect,' he -continued in more measured tones, 'and now that Dr. Sargent is with her, -and the night nurse just come down, I think I will take the opportunity -to get something to eat--for I have forgotten about that since -breakfast.' - -'Oh, Tom!' cried Miss Kerfoot reproachfully; and presently everybody at -the table was showering attentions on this young man. - -'And may I go in and see her now?' said Miss Kerfoot, preparing to steal -away. - -'No,' was the peremptory answer. 'No one. Every half hour of a sleep -like that is worth its weight in gold--well, that's a muddle, but you -know what I mean. It's worth a cart-load of gold, anyway. I hope -she'll go on for twenty-four hours, or thirty-six, for the matter of -that. Oh, I can tell you it is quite refreshing to look at her--talk -about the sleep of an infant!--you never saw an infant sleeping as deep -and sound as that; and I shouldn't wonder now if her temperature were -down another degree by midnight.' - -But he saw that Mr. Hodson was still terribly agitated. - -'Well, sir, would you like to go in and see her for a moment? I have -told the nurse to leave the door half an inch open, and there's a screen -to keep off the draught; I dare say we can slip in without disturbing -her.' - -And so it was that Mr. Hodson saw his daughter again--not with flushed -cheeks and dilated eye, but lying still and calm, a very weight of sleep -appearing to rest on her eyelids. And when he came out of the room -again, he pressed the young man's hand--it was a message of thanks too -deep for words. - -All that night she slept; and all next day she slept, without a moment's -intermission. When, at length, she opened her eyes, and stirred a -little, Emma Kerfoot was by the bedside in an instant. - -'Dear Carry!' she said. 'Do you want anything?' - -She shook her head slightly; she was excessively weak; but the look in -her eyes was one of calm intelligence; it was clear that the delirium -had left her. - -'Do you know that your father is here?' - -'Why?' she managed to say. - -'Because you have been so ill! Don't you know? Don't you recollect?' - -'Yes--I know, a little,' she said. 'Where is Jack Huysen?' - -'He is here in the hotel too. Oh, how glad they will all be to hear -that you are quite yourself again. And I must go and tell them, as soon -as nurse comes; for, you know, you'll have a long pull before you, -Carry; and if you don't get quite well again not one of us will ever -forgive ourselves for bringing you to Lake George. And there's Jack -Huysen, poor fellow, he has just been distracted; and all the time you -were ill you never had a word for him--though he used to haunt the -passage outside just like a ghost--well, well, you'll have to make it up -to him.' - -At this moment the nurse appeared, and Miss Kerfoot was free to depart -on her joyful errand. Of course, she was for summoning everybody--and -Jack Huysen among the rest; but the doctors interposed; their patient -must be kept perfectly quiet; in the meantime no one but her father was -to have access to her room. - -Now Mr. Hodson, when he was seated there by her side, and chatting -lightly and carelessly about a variety of indifferent matters (she -herself being forbidden to speak), considered that he could not do -better than relieve her mind of any anxiety she may have entertained on -Ronald's account. All through her delirium that was the one thing that -seemed to trouble her; and, lest she should revert to it, he thought he -might as well give her ample assurance that Ronald should be looked -after. However, to his great surprise, he found that she was quite -ignorant of her having made these appeals on behalf of Ronald. She did -not seem to know that she had been in dire distress about him, -reproaching herself for their treatment of him, and begging her father -to make such atonement as was yet possible. No; when she was allowed to -speak a little, she said quite calmly that it was a pity they had not -been able to go to Scotland that autumn; that they should have written -to Ronald to see how he was getting on; and that her father, if he -visited the old country, in the coming spring, ought surely to seek him -out, and remind him that he had some friends in America who would be -glad to hear of his welfare. But Mr. Hodson said to himself that he -would do a little more than that. He was not going to recall the -promise that he had made to his daughter when, as he thought, she lay -near to the very gates of death. What had put that pathetic solicitude -into her mind he knew not; but she had made her appeal, with dumb -fever-stricken eyes and trembling voice; and he had answered her and -pledged his word. Ronald should be none the loser that this sick girl -had thought of him when that she seemed to be vanishing away from them -for ever; surely in that direction, as well as any other, the father -might fitly give his thank-offering--for the restitution to life of the -sole daughter of his house? - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII.* - - *IN ABSENCE.* - - -Loch Naver lay calm and still under the slow awakening of the dawn. All -along the eastern horizon the low-lying hills were of a velvet-textured -olive-green--a mysterious shadow-land where no detail was visible; but -overhead the skies were turning to a clear and luminous gray; the -roseate tinge was leaving the upper slopes of Ben Loyal and Ben Clebrig; -and the glassy surface of the lake was gradually whitening as the -red-golden light changed to silver and broadened up and through the wide -sleeping world. An intense silence lay over the little hamlet among the -trees; not even a dog was stirring; but a tiny column of pale blue smoke -issuing from one of the chimneys told that some one was awake -within--probably the yellow-haired Nelly, whose duties began at an early -hour. - -And what was Meenie--or Rose Meenie, or Love Meenie, as she might be -called now, after having all those things written about her--what was -she doing awake and up at such a time? At all events, her morning -greeting was there confronting her. She had brought it and put it on -the little dressing-table; and as she brushed out her beautiful abundant -brown tresses, her eyes went back again and again to the pencilled -lines, and she seemed not ill-pleased. For this was what she read: - -_The hinds are feeding upon the hill,_ -_And the hares on the fallow lea;_ - _Awake, awake, Love Meenie!_ -_Birds are singing in every tree;_ - -_And roses you'll find on your window-sill_ -_To scent the morning air;_ - _Awake, awake, Love Meenie,_ -_For the world is shining fair!_ - -_O who is the mistress of bird and flower?_ -_Ben Clebrig knows, I ween!_ - _Awake, awake, Love Meenie,_ -_To show them their mistress and queen!_ - -And it could hardly be expected that she should bring any very keen -critical scrutiny to bear on these careless verses of Ronald's (of which -she had now obtained a goodly number, by dint of wheedling and entreaty, -and even downright insistence), seeing that nearly all of them were -written in her praise and honour; but even apart from that she had -convinced herself that they were very fine indeed; and that one or two -of them were really pathetic; and she was not without the hope that, -when the serious affairs of life had been attended to, and a little -leisure and contemplation become possible, Ronald might turn to his -poetical labours again and win some little bit of a name for himself -amongst a few sympathetic souls here and there. That he could do so, if -he chose, she was sure enough. It was all very well for him to make -light of these scraps and fragments; and to threaten to destroy them if -she revealed the fact of their existence to anybody; but she knew their -worth, if he did not; and when, in this or that magazine or review, she -saw a piece of poetry mentioned with praise, her first impulse was to -quickly read it in order to ask herself whether Ronald--given time and -opportunity--could not have done as well. Moreover, the answer to that -question was invariably the same; and it did not leave her unhappy. It -is true (for she would be entirely dispassionate) he had not written -anything quite so fine as 'Christabel'--as yet; but the years were -before him; she had confidence; the world should see--and give him a -fitting welcome all in good time. - -When, on this clear morning, she was fully equipped for her walk, she -stole silently down the stair, and made her way out into the now -awakening day. The little hamlet was showing signs of life. A -stable-lad was trying to get hold of a horse that had strayed into the -meadow; a collie was barking its excitement over this performance; the -pretty Nelly appeared carrying an armful of clothes to be hung out to -dry. And then, as Meenie passed the inn, she was joined by Harry the -terrier, who, after the first grovelling demonstrations of joy, seemed -to take it for granted that he was to be allowed to accompany her. And -she was nothing loth. The fact was, she was setting out in quest of -that distant eyrie of Ronald's of which he had often told her; and she -doubted very much whether she would be able to find it; and she -considered that perhaps the little terrier might help her. Would he not -naturally make for his master's accustomed resting-place, when they were -sufficiently high up on the far Clebrig slopes? - -So they went away along the road together; and she was talking to her -companion; and telling him a good deal more about Glasgow, and about his -master, than probably he could understand. Considering, indeed, that -this young lady had just been sent home in deep disgrace, she seemed in -excellent spirits. She had borne the parting admonitions and -upbraidings of her sister Agatha with a most astonishing indifference; -she had received her mother's reproaches with a placid equanimity that -the little woman could not understand at all (only that Meenie's face -once or twice grew fixed and proud when there was some scornful -reference to Ronald); and she had forthwith set about nursing her -father--who had caught a severe chill and was in bed--with an amiable -assiduity, just as if nothing had happened. As regards her father, he -either did not know, or had refused to know, about Meenie's lamentable -conduct. On this one point he was hopelessly perverse; he never would -listen to anything said against this daughter of his; Meenie was always -in the right--no matter what it was. And so, notwithstanding that she -had been sent home as one in disgrace, and had been received as one in -disgrace, she installed herself as her father's nurse with an amazing -self-content; and she brought him his beef-tea and port-wine at the -stated intervals (for the good Doctor did not seem to have as much faith -in drugs as might have been anticipated); and she kept the peat-fire -piled up and blazing; and she methodically read to him the _Inverness -Courier_, the _Glasgow Weekly Citizen_, and the _Edinburgh Scotsman_; -and when these were done she would get out a volume of old ballads, or -perhaps 'The Eve of St. Agnes,' or 'Esmond,' or 'As You Like It,' or the -'Winter's Tale.' It did not matter much to him what she read; he liked -to hear the sound of Meenie's voice--in this hushed, half-slumberous, -warm little room, while the chill north winds howled without, chasing -each other across the driven loch, and sighing and sobbing away along -the lonely Strath-Terry. - -But on this fair morning there was not a breath stirring; and the -curving bays and promontories and birch-woods, and the far hills beyond, -were all reflected in the magic mirror of the lake, as she sped along -the highway, making for the Clebrig slopes. And soon she was mounting -these--with the light step of one trained to the heather; and ever as -she got higher and higher the vast panorama around her grew wider and -more wide, until she could see hills and lochs and wooded islands that -never were visible from Inver-Mudal. In the perfect silence, the sudden -whirr of a startled grouse made her heart jump. A hare--that looked -remarkably like a cat, for there was as much white as bluish-brown about -it--got up almost at her feet and sped swiftly away over heath and rock -until it disappeared in one of the numerous peat-hags. There was a -solitary eagle slowly circling in the blue; but at so great a height -that it was but a speck. At one moment she thought she had caught sight -of the antlers of a stag; and for a second she stopped short, rather -frightened; but presently she had convinced herself that these were but -two bits of withered birch, appearing over the edge of a rock far above -her. It was a little chillier here; but the brisk exercise kept her -warm. And still she toiled on and on; until she knew, or guessed, that -she was high enough; and now the question was to discover the -whereabouts of the clump of rocks under shelter of which Ronald was -accustomed to sit, when he had been up here alone, dreaming day-dreams, -and scribbling the foolish rhymes that had won to her favour, whatever -he might think of them. - -At first this seemed a hopeless task; for the whole place was a -wilderness of moss and heather and peat-hags, with scarcely a -distinctive feature anywhere. But she wandered about, watching the -little terrier covertly; and at last she saw him put his nose in an -inquiring way into a hole underneath some tumbled boulders. He turned -and looked at her; she followed. And now there could be no doubt that -this was Ronald's halting-place and pulpit of meditation; for she -forthwith discovered the hidden case at the back of the little -cave--though the key of that now belonged to his successor. And so, in -much content, she sate herself down on the heather; with all the wide, -sunlit, still world mapped out before her--the silver thread of Mudal -Water visible here and there among the moors, and Loch Meadie with its -islands, and Ben Hope and Ben Loyal, and Bonnie Strath-Naver, and the -far Kyle of Tongue close to the northern Sea. - -Now, what had Love Meenie climbed all this height for? what but to read -herself back into the time when Ronald used to come here alone; and to -think of what he had been thinking; and to picture herself as still an -unconscious maiden wandering about that distant little hamlet that -seemed but two or three dots down there among the trees. This, or -something like it, has always been a favourite pastime with lovers; but -Meenie had an additional source of interest in the possession of a -packet of those idle rhymes, and these were a kind of key to bygone -moods and days. And so it was here--in this strange stillness--that -Ronald had written these verses about her; and perhaps caught a glimpse -of her, with his telescope, as she came out from the cottage to -intercept the mail; when little indeed was she dreaming that he had any -such fancies in his head. And now as she turned over page after page, -sometimes she laughed a little, when she came to something that seemed a -trifle audacious--and she scarcely wondered that he had been afraid of -her seeing such bold declarations: and then again a kind of compunction -filled her heart; and she wished that Ronald had not praised her so; for -what had she done to deserve it; and how would her coming life be made -to correspond with these all too generous and exalted estimates of her -character? Of course she liked well enough to come upon praises of her -abundant brown hair, and her Highland eyes, and the rose-leaf tint of -her cheeks, and the lightness of her step; for she was aware of these -things as well as he; and glad enough that she possessed them, for had -they not commended her to him? But as for these other wonderful graces -of mind and disposition with which he had adorned her? She was sadly -afraid that he would find her stupid, ill-instructed, unread, fractious, -unreasonable, incapable of understanding him. Look, for example, how he -could imbue these hills and moors and vales with a kind of magic, so -that they seemed to become his personal friends. To her they were all -dead things (except Mudal Water, at times, on the summer evenings), but -to him they seemed instinct with life. They spoke to him; and he to -them; he understood them; they were his companions and friends; who but -himself could tell of what this very hill of Clebrig was thinking?-- - -_Ben Clebrig's a blaze of splendour_ - _In the first red flush of the morn,_ -_And his gaze is fixed on the eastward_ - _To greet the day new-born;_ -_And he listens a-still for the bellow_ - _Of the antlered stag afar,_ -_And he laughs at the royal challenge,_ - _The hoarse, harsh challenge of war._ - -_But Ben Clebrig is gentle and placid_ - _When the sun sinks into the west,_ -_And a mild and a mellow radiance_ - _Shines on his giant crest;_ -_For he's looking down upon Meenie_ - _As she wanders along the road,_ -_And the mountain bestows his blessing_ - _On the fairest child of God._ - -There again: what could he see in her (she asked herself) that he should -write of her so? He had declared to her that the magic with which all -this neighbourhood was imbued was due to her presence there; but how -could she, knowing herself as she did, believe that? And how to show -her gratitude to him; and her faith in him; and her confidence as to the -future? Well, she could but give to him her life and the love that was -the life of her life--if these were worth the taking. - -But there was one among these many pieces that she had pondered over -which she returned to again and again, and with a kind of pride; and -that not because it sounded her praises, but because it assured her -hopes. As for Ronald's material success in life, she was troubled with -little doubt about that. It might be a long time before he could come -to claim his wife; but she was content to wait; in that direction she -had no fears whatever. But there was something beyond that. She looked -forward to the day when even the Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay should -know what manner of man this was whom she had chosen for her husband. -Her mother had called him an uneducated peasant; but she paid no heed to -the taunt; rather she was thinking of the time when Ronald--other things -being settled--might perhaps go to Edinburgh, and get to know some one -holding the position there that Jeffrey used to hold (her reading was a -little old-fashioned) who would introduce him to the world of letters -and open the way to fame. She knew nothing of Carry Hodson's luckless -attempt in this direction; she knew, on the contrary, that Ronald was -strongly averse from having any of these scraps printed; but she said to -herself that the fitting time would come. And if these unpolished -verses are found to belie her confident and proud prognostications as to -the future, let it be remembered that she was hardly nineteen, that she -was exceedingly warm-hearted, that she was a young wife, and day and -night with little to think about but the perfections of her lover, and -his kindness to her, and his praise of her, and the honour in which he -held her. However, this piece was not about Meenie at all--he had -called it - - _BY ISLAY'S SHORES._ - -_By Islay's shores she sate and sang:_ - _'O winds, come blowing o'er the sea,_ -_And bring me back my love again_ - _That went to fight in Germanie!'_ - -_And all the livelong day she sang,_ - _And nursed the bairn upon her knee:_ -_'Balou, balou, my bonnie bairn,_ - _Thy father's far in Germanie,_ - -_But ere the summer days are gane,_ - _And winter blackens bush and tree,_ -_Thy father will we welcome hame_ - _Frae the red wars in Germanie.'_ - -_O dark the night fell, dark and mirk;_ - _A wraith stood by her icily:_ -_'Dear wife, I'll never more win hame,_ - _For I am slain in Germanie._ - -_On Minden's field I'm lying stark,_ - _And Heaven is now my far countrie,_ -_Farewell, dear wife, farewell, farewell,_ - _I'll ne'er win hame frae Germanie.'_ - -_And all the year she came and went,_ - _And wandered wild frae sea to sea;_ -_'O neighbours, is he ne'er come back,_ - _My love that went to Germanie?'_ - -_Port Ellen saw her many a time;_ - _Round by Port Askaig wandered she:_ -_'Where is the ship that's sailing in_ - _With my dear love frae Germanie?'_ - -_But when the darkened winter fell:_ - _'It's cold for baith my bairn and me;_ -_Let me lie down and rest awhile:_ - _My love's away frae Germanie._ - -_O far away and away he dwells;_ - _High Heaven is now his fair countrie;_ -_And there he stands--with arms outstretched--_ - _To welcome hame my bairn and me!'_ - - -And if Meenie's eyes were filled with tears when she had re-read the -familiar lines, her heart was proud enough; and all her kinsmen of -Glengask and Orosay had no terrors for her; and her mother's taunts no -sting. Of course, all this that she hoped for was far away in the -future; but even as regarded the immediate years before her she refused -to be harassed by any doubt. Perhaps she would not have asserted in set -terms that a knack of stringing verses together proved that the writer -had also the capacity and knowledge and judgment necessary to drain and -fence and plant and stock a Highland estate; abstract questions of the -kind had little interest for her; what she did know--what formed the -first article of her creed, and the last, and the intervening -thirty-seven--was that Ronald could do anything he put his mind to. And -this was a highly useful and comfortable belief, considering all her -circumstances. - -And so she sped away down the mountain-side again--glad to have -discovered Ronald's retreat; and so light and swift was her step that -when she at length reached the inn she found herself just ahead of the -mail coming in from the south. Of course she waited for letters; and -when Mrs. Murray had opened the bags, it was found there were three for -the Doctor's cottage. The first was from Ronald; that Meenie whipped -into her pocket. The second was for Mrs. Douglas, and clearly in -Agatha's handwriting. The third, addressed to Meenie, had an American -stamp on it; and this was the one that she opened and read as she -quietly walked homeward. - -It was a long letter; and it was from Miss Carry Hodson; who first of -all described the accident that had befallen her, and her subsequent -illness; and plainly intimated that no such thing would have happened -had her Highland friends been in charge of the boat. Then she went on -to say that her father had just sailed for Europe; that he had business -to transact in Scotland; that he wished to see Ronald; and would Miss -Douglas be so very kind as to ask the innkeeper, or the post-master at -Lairg, or any one who knew Ronald's address in Glasgow, to drop a -post-card to her father, addressed to the Langham Hotel, London, with -the information. Moreover, her father had intimated his intention of -taking the Loch Naver salmon-fishing for the next season, if it was not -as yet let; and in that case the writer would be overjoyed to find -herself once more among her Inver-Mudal friends. Finally, and as a kind -of reminder and keepsake, she had sent by her father a carriage-rug made -mostly of chipmunk skins; and she would ask Miss Douglas's acceptance of -it; and hoped that it would keep her knees snug and warm and comfortable -when the winds were blowing too sharply along Strath-Terry. - -Of course, all this was wonderful news to come to such a quiet and -remote corner of the world; but there was other news as well; and that -by an odd coincidence. Some little time after Mrs. Douglas had received -the letter from Agatha, she came to Meenie. - -'Williamina,' said she, 'Agatha writes to me about Mr. Frank Lauder.' - -'Yes?' said Meenie, rather coldly. - -'He intends renting the salmon-fishing on the loch for the next season; -and he will be alone at the inn. Agatha hopes that we shall be -particularly civil to him; and I hope--I say, I hope--that every one in -this house will be. It is of the greatest importance, considering how -he stands with regard to Mr. Gemmill. I hope he will be received in -this house with every attention and kindness.' - -And then the pompous little dame left. It was almost a challenge she -had thrown down; and Meenie was at first a little bewildered. What -then?--would this young man, for the six weeks or two months of his -stay, be their constant visitor? He would sit in the little parlour, -evening after evening; and how could she keep him from talking to her, -and how could she keep him from looking at her? And Ronald--her -husband--would be far away; and alone, perhaps; and not allowed a word -with her; whereas she would have to be civil and polite to this young -man; and even if she held her eyes downcast, how could she help his -regarding her face? - -And then she suddenly bethought her of Miss Hodson's letter. What?--was -Mr. Hodson after the fishing too? And ought not the last tenant to have -the refusal? And should not the Duke's agent know? And why should she -not write him a note--just in case no inquiry had been made? She had -not much time to think about the matter; but she guessed quickly enough -that, if an American millionaire and the son of a Glasgow merchant are -after the same thing, and that thing purchasable, the American is likely -to get it. And why should Ronald's wife be stared at and talked to by -this young man--however harmless and amiable his intentions? - -So she went swiftly to her own room and wrote as follows:-- - - -'DEAR MR. CRAWFORD--I have just heard from Miss Hodson, whose father was -here last spring, that he is on his way to Europe; and that he hopes to -have the fishing again this year. I think I ought to let you know, just -in case you should have any other application for the loch. I am sure -Miss Hodson will be much disappointed if he does not get it. Yours -sincerely, - -'MEENIE S. DOUGLAS.' - - -'There,' said she, and there was a little smile of triumph about her -mouth, 'if that doesn't put a spoke in the wheel of Mr. Frank Lauder, -poor fellow, I don't know what will.' - -'Spiteful little cat,' her sister Agatha would have called her, had she -known; but women's judgments of women are not as men's. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV.* - - *WANDERINGS IN THE WEST.* - - -On a singularly clear and brilliant morning in February a large and -heavy screw-steamer slowly crept out of the land-locked little harbour -of Portree, and steadily made away for the north. For her the squally -Ben Inivaig at the mouth of the channel had no terrors; indeed, what -could any vessel fear on such a morning as this? When they got well out -into Raasay Sound, it seemed as if the whole world had been changed into -a pantomime-scene. The sky was calm and cloudless; the sea was as glass -and of the most dazzling blue; and those masses of white that appeared -on that perfect mirror were the reflections of the snow-powdered -islands--Raasay, and Fladda, and South Rona--that gleamed and shone and -sparkled there in the sun. Not often are the wide waters of the Minch -so fair and calm in mid-winter; the more usual thing is northerly gales, -with black seas thundering by into Loch Staffin and Kilmaluag Bay, or -breaking into sheets and spouts of foam along the headlands of Aird -Point and Ru Hunish. This was as a holiday trip, but for the sharp -cold. The islands were white as a solan's wing--save along the shores; -the sea was of a sapphire blue; and when they got up by Rona light -behold the distant snow-crowned hills of Ross and Cromarty rose faint -and spectral and wonderful into the pale and summer-like sky. The men -sung '_Fhir a Bhata_' as they scoured the brass and scrubbed the decks; -the passengers marched up and down, clapping their hands to keep them -warm; and ever as the heavy steamer forged on its way, the world of blue -sea and sky and snow-white hills opened out before them, until some -declared at last that in the far north they could make out the Shiant -Isles. - -Now under shelter of the companion-way leading down into the saloon -three men were standing, and two of them were engaged in an animated -conversation. The third, who was Mr. Hodson, merely looked on and -listened, a little amused, apparently. One of the others--a tall, -heavy-bearded, north-Highland-looking man--was Mr. Carmichael, a famous -estate-agent in London, who had run two or three commissions together as -an excuse for this midwinter trip. The third member of the group was -Ronald, who was hammering away in his usual dogmatic fashion. - -'Pedigree? The pride of having ancestors?' he was saying. 'Why, -there's not a man alive whose ancestry does not stretch as far back as -any other man's ancestry. Take it any way ye like: if Adam was our -grandfather, then we're all his grandchildren; or if we are descended -from a jellyfish or a monkey, the line is of the same length for all of -us--for dukes, and kings, and herd-laddies. The only difference is -this, that some know the names of their forefathers, and some don't; and -the presumption is that the man whose people have left no story behind -them is come of a more moral, useful, sober, hard-working race than the -man whose forbears were famous cut-throats in the middle ages, or -dishonest lawyers, or king's favourites. It's plain John Smith that has -made up the wealth of this country; and that has built her ships for -her, and defended her, and put her where she is; and John Smith had his -ancestors at Cressy and Agincourt as well as the rest--ay, and they had -the bulk of the fighting to do, I'll be bound; but I think none the -worse of him because he cannot tell you their names or plaster his walls -with coats of arms. However, it's idle talking about a matter of -sentiment, and that's the fact; and so, if you'll excuse me, I'll just -go down into the cabin, and write a couple o' letters.' - -A minute or so after he had disappeared, Mr. Hodson (who looked -miserably cold, to tell the truth, though he was wrapped from head to -heel in voluminous furs) motioned his companion to come a few yards -aside, so that they could talk without fear of being overheard. - -'Now,' said he, in his slow and distinct way, 'now we are alone, I want -you to tell me what you think of that young man.' - -'I don't like his politics,' was the prompt and blunt answer. - -'No more do I,' said Mr. Hodson coolly. 'But for another reason. You -call him a Radical, I call him a Tory. But no matter--I don't mean about -politics. Politics?--who but a fool bothers his head about -politics--unless he can make money out of them? No, I mean something -more practical than that. Here have you and he been together these -three days, talking about the one subject nearly all the time--I mean -the management of these Highland estates, and the nature of the ground, -and what should be done, and all that. Well, now, you are a man of -great experience; and I want you to tell me what you think of this young -fellow. I want you to tell me honestly; and it will be in strict -confidence, I assure you. Now, has he got a good solid grip of the -thing? Does he know? Does he catch on? Is he safe? Is he to be -trusted?----' - -'Oh, there, there, there!' said the big estate-agent, interrupting -through mere good-nature. 'That's quite another thing--quite another -thing. I've not a word to say against him there--no, quite the other -way--a shrewd-headed, capable fellow he is, with a groundwork of -practical knowledge that no man ever yet got out of books. As -sharp-eyed a fellow as I have come across for many a day--didn't you see -how he guessed at the weak points of that Mull place before ever he set -foot ashore? Quick at figures, too--oh yes, yes, a capable fellow I -call him; he has been posting himself up, I can see; but it's where his -practical knowledge comes in that he's of value. When it's a question -of vineries, or something like that, then he goes by the book--that's -useless.' - -Mr. Hodson listened in silence; and his manner showed nothing. - -'I have been thinking he would be a valuable man for me,' the agent said -presently. - -'In your office?' said Mr. Hodson, raising his eyes. - -'Yes. And for this reason. You see, if he would only keep away from -those d--d politics of his, he is a very good-natured fellow, and he has -got an off-hand way with him that makes shepherds, and keepers, and -people of that kind friendly; the result is that he gets all the -information that he wants--and that isn't always an easy thing to get. -Now if I had a man like that in my office, whom I could send with a -client thinking of purchasing an estate--to advise him--to get at the -truth--and to be an intelligent and agreeable travelling-companion at -the same time--that would be a useful thing.' - -'Say, now,' continued Mr. Hodson (who was attending mostly to his own -meditations), 'do you think, from what you've seen of this young man, -that he has the knowledge and business-capacity to be overseer--factor, -you call it, don't you?--of an estate--not a large estate, but perhaps -about the size of the one we saw yesterday or this one we are going to -now? Would he go the right way about it? Would he understand what had -to be done--I mean, in improving the land, and getting the most out of -it----' - -Mr. Carmichael laughed. - -'It's not a fair question,' said he. 'Your friend Strang and I are too -much of one opinion--ay, on every point we're agreed--for many's the -long talk we've had over the matter.' - -'I know--I know,' Mr. Hodson said. 'Though I was only half-listening; -for when you got to feu-duties and public burdens and things of that -kind I lost my reckoning. But you say that you and Strang are agreed as -to the proper way of managing a Highland estate: very well: assuming -your theories to be correct, is he capable of carrying them out?' - -'I think so--I should say undoubtedly--I don't think I would myself -hesitate about trusting him with such a place--that is, when I had made -sufficient inquiries about his character, and got some money guarantee -about his stewardship. But then, you see, Mr. Hodson, I'm afraid, if you -were to let Strang go his own way in working up an estate, so as to get -the most marketable value into it, you and he would have different -opinions at the outset. I mean with such an estate as you would find -over there,' he added, indicating with his finger the long stretch of -wild and mountainous country they were approaching. 'On rough and hilly -land like that, in nine cases out of ten, you may depend on it, it's -foresting that pays.' - -'But that's settled,' Mr. Hodson retorted rather sharply. 'I have -already told you, and Strang too, that if I buy a place up here I will -not have a stag or a hind from end to end of it.' - -'Faith, they're things easy to get rid of,' the other said -good-naturedly. 'They'll not elbow you into the ditch if you meet them -on the road.' - -'No; I have heard too much. Why, you yourself said that the very name -of American stank in the nostrils of the Highlanders.' - -'Can you wonder?' said Mr. Carmichael quietly: they had been talking the -night before of certain notorious doings, on the part of an American -lessee, which were provoking much newspaper comment at the time. - -'Well, what I say is this--if I buy a place in the Highlands--and no one -can compel me to buy it--it is merely a fancy I have had for two or -three years back, and I can give it up if I choose--but what I say is, -if I do buy a place in the Highlands, I will hold it on such conditions -that I shall be able to bring my family to live on it, and that I shall -be able to leave it to my boy without shame. I will not associate -myself with a system that has wrought such cruelty and tyranny. No; I -will not allow a single acre to be forested.' - -'There's such a quantity of the land good for nothing but deer,' Mr. -Carmichael said, almost plaintively. 'If you only saw it!--you're going -now by what the newspaper writers say--people who never were near a -deer-forest in their lives.' - -'Good for nothing but deer? But what about the black cattle that -Ronald--that Strang--is always talking about?' was the retort--and Mr. -Hodson showed a very unusual vehemence, or, at least, impatience. -'Well, I don't care. That has got nothing to do with me. But it has got -to do with my factor, or overseer, or whatever he is. And between him -and me this is how it will lie: "If you can't work my estate, big or -small as it may be, without putting the main part of it under deer, and -beginning to filch grazings here and there, and driving the crofters -down to the sea-shore, and preventing a harmless traveller from having a -Sunday walk over the hills, then out you go. You may be fit for some -other place: not for mine." Then he went on in a milder strain. 'And -Strang knows that very well. No doubt, if I were to put him in a -position of trust like that, he might be ambitious to give a good -account of his stewardship; I think, very likely he would be, for he's a -young man; but if I buy a place in the Highlands, it will have to be -managed as I wish it to be managed. When I said that I wanted the most -made out of the land, I did not mean the most money. No. I should be -glad to have four per cent for my investment; if I can't have that, I -should be content with three; but it is not as a commercial speculation -that I shall go into the affair, if I go into it at all. My wants are -simple enough. As I tell you, I admire the beautiful, wild country; I -like the people--what little I have seen of them; and if I can get a -picturesque bit of territory somewhere along this western coast, I -should like to give my family a kind of foothold in Europe, and I dare -say my boy might be glad to spend his autumns here, and have a turn at -the grouse. But for the most part of the time the place would be under -control of the factor; and I want a factor who will work the estate -under certain specified conditions. First, no foresting. Then I would -have the crofts revalued--as fairly as might be; no crofter to be liable -to removal who paid his rent. The sheep-farms would go by their market -value, though I would not willingly disturb any tenant; however, in that -case, I should be inclined to try Strang's plan of having those black -cattle on my own account. I would have the cottars taken away from the -crofts (allowing for the rent paid to the crofter, for that would be but -fair, when the value of the crofts was settled), and I would build for -them a model village, which you might look upon as a philanthropic fad -of my own, to be paid for separately. No gratuitous grazing anywhere to -crofter or cottar; that is but the parent of subsequent squabbles. Then -I would have all the draining and planting and improving of the estate -done by the local hands, so far as that was practicable. And then I -should want four per cent return on the purchase-money; and I should not -be much disappointed with three; and perhaps (though I would not admit -this to anybody) if I saw the little community thriving and -satisfied--and reckoning also the honour and glory of my being a king on -my own small domain--I might even be content with two per cent. Now, -Mr. Carmichael, is this practicable? And is this young fellow the man -to undertake it? I would make it worth his while. I should not like to -say anything about payment by results or percentage on profits; that -might tempt him to screw it out of the poorer people when he was left -master--though he does not talk like that kind of a fellow. I wrote to -Lord Ailine about him; and got the best of characters. I went and saw -the old man who is coaching him for that forestry examination; he is -quite confident about the result--not that I care much about that -myself. What do you say now? You ought to be able to judge.' - -Mr. Carmichael hesitated. - -'If you got the estate at a fair price,' he said at length, 'it might be -practicable, though these improvement schemes suck in money as a sponge -sucks in water. And as for this young fellow--well, I should think he -would be just the man for the place--active, energetic, shrewd-headed, -and a pretty good hand at managing folk, as I should guess. But, you -know, before giving any one an important post like that--and especially -with your going back to America for the best part of every year--I think -you ought to have some sort of money guarantee as a kind of safeguard. -It's usual. God forbid I should suggest anything against the lad--he's -as honest looking as my own two boys, and I can say no more than -that--still, business is business. A couple of sureties, now, of L500 -apiece, might be sufficient.' - -'It's usual?' repeated Mr. Hodson absently. 'Yes, I suppose it is. -Pretty hard on a young fellow, though, if he can't find the sureties. A -thousand pounds is a big figure for one in his position. He has told me -about his father and his brother: they're not in it, anyhow--both of -them with hardly a sixpence to spare. However, it's no use talking -about it until we see whether this place here is satisfactory; and even -then don't say a word about it to him; for if some such post were to be -offered to him--and if the securities were all right and so forth--it -has got to be given to him as a little present from an American young -lady, if you can call it a present when you merely propose to pay a man -a fair day's wage for a fair day's work. And I am less hopeful now; the -three places we have looked at were clearly out of the question; and my -Highland mansion may prove to be a castle in Spain after all.' - -Late that night they reached their destination; and early next morning -at the door of the hotel--which looked strangely deserted amid the -wintry landscape--a waggonette was waiting for them, and also the agent -for the estate they were going to inspect. They started almost -directly; and a long and desperately cold drive it proved to be; Mr. -Hodson, for one, was glad enough when they dismounted at the keeper's -cottage where their tramp over the ground was to begin--he did not care -how rough the country might be, so long as he could keep moving briskly. - -Now it had been very clear during these past few days that Ronald had -not the slightest suspicion that Mr. Hodson, in contemplating the -purchase of a Highland estate (which was an old project of his), had -also in his eye some scheme for Ronald's own advancement. All the way -through he had been endeavouring to spy out the nakedness of the land, -and to demonstrate its shortcomings. He considered that was his -business. Mr. Hodson had engaged him--at what he considered the -munificent terms of a guinea a day and all expenses paid--to come and -give his advice; and he deemed it his duty to find out everything, -especially whatever was detrimental, about such places as they visited, -so that there should be no swindling bargain. And so on this Ross-shire -estate of Balnavrain, he was proving himself a hard critic. This was -hopelessly bleak; that was worthless bog-land;--why was there no fencing -along those cliffs?--where were the roads for the peats?--who had had -control over the burning of the heather?--wasn't it strange that all -along these tops they had not put up more than a couple of coveys of -grouse, a hare or two, and a single ptarmigan? But all at once, when -they had toiled across this unpromising and hilly wilderness, they came -upon a scene of the most startling beauty--for now they were looking -down and out on the western sea, that was a motionless mirror of blue -and white; and near them was a wall of picturesquely wooded cliffs; and -below that again, and sloping to the shore, a series of natural plateaus -and carefully planted enclosures; while stretching away inland was a -fertile valley, with smart farmhouses, and snug clumps of trees, and a -meandering river that had salmon obviously written on every square foot -of its partially frozen surface. - -'What a situation for a house!' was Ronald's involuntary exclamation--as -he looked down on the sheltered semicircle below him, guarded on the -east and north by the cliffs, and facing the shining west. - -'I thought ye would say that,' the agent said, with a quiet smile. -'It's many's the time I've heard Sir James say he would give L20,000 if -he could bring the Castle there; and he was aye minded to build -there--ay, even to the day of his death, poor man; but then the Colonel, -when the place came to him, said no; he would rather sell Balnavrain; -and maist likely the purchaser would be for building a house to his ain -mind.' - -'And a most sensible notion too,' Mr. Hodson said. 'But look here, my -friend: you've brought us up to a kind of Pisgah; I would rather go down -into that land of Gilead, and see what the farmhouses are like.' - -'Ay, but I brought ye here because it's about the best place for giving -ye an idea of the marches,' said the man imperturbably, for he knew his -own business better than the stranger. 'Do ye see the burn away over -there beyond the farmhouse?' - -'Yes, yes.' - -'Well, that's the Balnavrain march right up to the top; and then the -Duchess runs all along the sky-line yonder--to the black scaur.' - -'You don't say!' observed Mr. Hodson. 'I never heard of a Duchess doing -anything so extraordinary.' - -'But we march with the Duchess,' said the other, a little bewildered. - -'That's a little more decorous, anyway. Well now, I suppose we can make -all that out on the Ordnance Survey map when we get back to the hotel. -I'm for getting down into the valley--to have a look around; I take it -that if I lived here I shouldn't spend all the time on a mountain-top.' - -Well, the long and the short of it was that, after having had two or -three hours of laborious and diligent tramping and inspection and -questioning and explanation, and after having been entertained with a -comfortable meal of oat-cake and hot broth and boiled beef at a -hospitable farmhouse, they set out again on their cold drive back to the -hotel, where a long business conversation went on all the evening, -during dinner and after dinner. It was very curious how each of these -three brought this or that objection to the place--as if bound to do so; -and how the fascination of the mere site of it had so clearly captivated -them none the less. Of course, nothing conclusive was said or done that -night; but, despite these deprecatory pleas, there was a kind of tacit -and general admission that Balnavrain, with proper supervision and -attention to the possibilities offered by its different altitudes, might -be made into a very admirable little estate, with a dwelling-house on it -second in point of situation to none on the whole western sea-board of -the Highlands. - -'Ronald,' said Mr. Hodson that evening, when Mr. Carmichael had gone off -to bed (he was making for the south early in the morning), 'we have had -some hard days' work; why should we let Loch Naver lie idle? I suppose -we could drive from here somehow? Let us start off to-morrow; and we'll -have a week's salmon-fishing.' - -'To Inver-Mudal?' he said--and he turned quite pale. - -'Yes, yes, why not?' Mr. Hodson answered. But he had noticed that -strange look that had come across the younger man's face; and he -attributed it to a wrong cause. 'Oh, it will not take up so much of your -time,' he continued. 'Mr. Weems declares you must have your certificate -as a matter of course. And as for expenses--the present arrangement -must go on, naturally, until you get back to Glasgow. What is a week, -man? Indeed, I will take no denial.' - -And Ronald could not answer. To Inver-Mudal?--to meet the girl whom he -dared not acknowledge to be his wife?--and with his future as hopelessly -uncertain as ever. Once or twice he was almost driven to make a -confession to this stranger, who seemed so frankly interested in him and -his affairs; but no; he could not do that; and he went to bed wondering -with what strange look in her eyes Meenie would find him in -Inver-Mudal--if he found it impossible to resist the temptation of being -once more within sight of her, and within hearing of the sound of her -voice. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV.* - - *A PLEDGE REDEEMED.* - - -Mr. Hodson could by no means get to understand the half-expressed -reluctance, the trepidation almost, with which Ronald seemed to regard -this visit to Inver-Mudal. It was not a matter of time; for his studies -for the examination were practically over. It was not a matter of -expense; for he was being paid a guinea a day. It was not debt; on that -point Mr. Hodson had satisfied himself by a few plain questions; and he -knew to a sovereign what sum Ronald had still in the bank. Nor could he -believe, after the quite unusual terms in which Lord Ailine had written -about the young man's conduct and character, that Ronald was likely to -have done anything to cause him to fear a meeting with his former -friends. And so, having some little experience of the world, he guessed -that there was probably a girl in the case; and discreetly held his -peace. - -But little indeed was he prepared for the revelation that was soon to be -made. On the afternoon of one of these cold February days they were -driving northward along Strath-Terry. A sprinkling of snow had fallen -in the morning; the horses' hoofs and the wheels of the waggonette made -scarcely any sound in this prevailing silence. They had come in sight of -Loch Naver; and the long sheet of water looked quite black amid the -white undulations of the woods and the moorland and the low-lying hills. -Now at this point the road leading down to the village makes a sudden -turn; and they were just cutting round the corner when Ronald, who had -been anxiously looking forward, caught sight of that that most he longed -and that most he feared to see. It was Meenie herself--she was walking -by the side of the way, carrying some little parcel in her hand; and -they had come upon her quite unexpectedly, and noiselessly besides; and -what might she not betray in this moment of sudden alarm? He gripped -the driver's arm, thinking he might stop the horses; but it was now too -late for that. They were close to her; she heard the patter of horses' -hoofs; she looked up, startled; and the next moment--when she saw Ronald -there--she had uttered a quick, sharp cry, and had staggered back a step -or so, until in her fright she caught at the wire fence behind her. She -did not fall; but her face was as white as the snow around her; and when -he leapt from the waggonette, and seized her by both wrists, so as to -hold her there, she could only say, 'Ronald, Ronald,' and could seek for -no explanation of this strange arrival. But he held her tight and firm; -and with a wave of his hand he bade the driver drive on and leave them. -And Mr. Hodson lowered his eyes, thinking that he had seen enough; but -he formally raised his hat, all the same; and as he was being driven on -to the inn, he returned to his surmise that there was a girl in the -case--only who could have imagined that it was the Doctor's daughter? - -Nor was there a single word said about this tell-tale meeting when -Ronald came along to the inn, some few minutes thereafter. He seemed a -little preoccupied, that was all. He rather avoided the stormy welcome -that greeted him everywhere; and appeared to be wholly bent on getting -the preparations pushed forward for the fishing of the next day. Of -course everything had to be arranged; for they had had no thought of -coming to Inver-Mudal when they sailed from Glasgow; there was not even -a boat on the loch, nor a single gillie engaged. - -But later on that evening, when the short winter day had departed, and -the blackness of night lay over the land, Ronald stole away from the -inn, and went stealthily down through the fields till he found himself -by the side of the river. Of course, there was nothing visible; had he -not known every foot of the ground, he dared not have come this way; but -onward he went like a ghost through the dark until he finally gained the -bridge, and there he paused and listened. 'Meenie!' he said, in a kind -of whisper; but there was no reply. And so he groped his way to the -stone dyke by the side of the road, and sate down there, and waited. - -This was not how he had looked forward to meeting Meenie again. Many a -time he had pictured that to himself--his getting back to Inver-Mudal -after the long separation--the secret summons--and Meenie coming -silently out from the little cottage to join him. But always the night -was a moonlight night; and the wide heavens calm and clear; and Loch -Naver rippling in silver under the dusky shadows of Ben Clebrig. Why, -he had already written out that summons; and he had sent it to Meenie; -and no doubt she had read it over to herself more than once; and -wondered when the happy time was to be. The night that he had looked -forward to was more like a night for a lovers' meeting: this was the -message he had sent her-- - -_O white's the moon upon the loch,_ - _And black the bushes on the brae,_ -_And red the light in your window-pane:_ - _When will ye come away,_ - _Meenie,_ - _When will ye come away?_ - -_I'll wrap ye round and keep ye warm,_ - _For mony a secret we've to tell,_ -_And ne'er a sound will hinder us_ - _Down in yon hidden dell,_ - _Meenie,_ - _Down in yon hidden dell._ - -_O see the moon is sailing on_ - _Through fleecy clouds across the skies,_ -_But fairer far the light that I know,_ - _The love-light in your eyes,_ - _Meenie,_ - _The love-light in your eyes._ - -_O haste and haste; the night is sweet,_ - _But sweeter far what I would hear;_ -_And I have a secret to tell to you,_ - _A whisper in your ear,_ - _Meenie,_ - _A whisper in your ear._ - - -But here was a bitter cold winter night; and Meenie would have to come -through the snow; and dark as pitch it was--he would have to guess at -the love-light in her eyes, so cruelly dense was this blackness all -around. - -Then his quick ear detected a faint sound in the distance--a hushed -footfall on the snow; and that came nearer and nearer; he went out to -the middle of the road. - -'Is that you, Meenie?' - -The answer was a whisper-- - -'Ronald!' - -And like a ghost she came to him through the dark; but indeed this was -no ghost at all that he caught to him and that clung to him, for if her -cheeks were cold her breath was warm about his face, and her lips were -warm, and her ungloved hands that were round his neck were warm, and all -the furry wrappings that she wore could not quite conceal the joyful -beating of her heart. - -'Oh, Ronald--Ronald--you nearly killed me with the fright--I thought -something dreadful had happened--that you had come back without any -warning--and now you say instead that it's good news--oh, let it be good -news, Ronald--let it be good news--if you only knew how I have been -thinking and thinking--and crying sometimes--through the long days and -the long nights--let it be good news that you have brought with you, -Ronald!' - -'Well, lass' (but this was said after some little time; for he had other -things to say to her with which we have no concern here), 'it may be -good news; but it's pretty much guess-work; and maybe I'm building up -something on my own conceit, that will have a sudden fall, and serve me -right. And then even at the best I hardly see----' - -'But, Ronald, you said it was good news!' And then she altered her -tone. 'Ah, but I don't care! I don't care at all when you are here. -It is only when you are away that my heart is like lead all the long -day; and at night I lie and think that everything is against us--and -such a long time to wait--and perhaps my people finding out--but what is -it, Ronald, you had to tell me?' - -'Well, now, Meenie,' said he. - -'But that is not my name--to you,' said she; for indeed she scarce knew -what she said, and was all trembling, and excited, and clinging to -him--there, in the dark, mid the wild waste of the snow. - -'Love-Meenie and Rose-Meenie, all in one,' said he, 'listen, and I'll -tell you now what maybe lies before us. Maybe, it is, and that only; I -think this unexpected coming to see you may have put me off my head a -bit; but if it's all a mistake--well, we are no worse off than we were -before. And this is what it is now: do you remember my telling you that -Mr. Hodson had often been talking of buying an estate in the -Highlands?--well, he has just been looking at one--it's over there on -the Ross-shire coast--and it's that has brought us to the Highlands just -now, for he would have me come and look at it along with him. And what -would you think if he made me the factor of it? Well, maybe I'm daft to -think of such a thing; but he has been talking and talking in a way I -cannot understand unless some plan of that kind is in his head; ay, and -he has been making inquiries about me, as I hear; and not making much of -the forestry certificate, as to whether I get it or no; but rather, as I -should guess, thinking about putting me on this Balnavrain place as soon -as it becomes his own. Ay, ay, sweetheart; that would be a fine thing -for me, to be in a position just like that of Mr. Crawford--though on a -small scale; and who could prevent my coming to claim my good wife then, -and declaring her as mine before all the world?' - -'Yes, yes, Ronald,' she said eagerly, 'but why do you talk like that? -Why do you speak as if there was trouble? Surely he will make you -factor! It was he that asked you to go away to Glasgow; he always was -your friend; if he buys the estate, who else could he get to manage it -as well?' - -'But there's another thing, sweetheart,' said he, rather hopelessly. -'He spoke about it yesterday. Indeed, he put it plain enough. He asked -me fairly whether, supposing somebody was to offer me the management of -an estate, I could get guarantees--securities for my honesty, in fact; -and he even mentioned the sum that would be needed. Well, well, it's -beyond me, my girl--where could I find two people to stand surety for me -at L500 apiece?' - -She uttered a little cry, and clung closer to him. - -'Ronald--Ronald--surely you will not miss such a chance for that--it is -a matter of form, isn't it?--and some one----' - -'But who do I know that has got L500, and that I could ask?' said he. -'Ay, and two of them. Maybe Lord Ailine might be one--he was always a -good friend to me--but two of them--two of them--well, well, good lass, -if it has all got to go, we must wait for some other chance.' - -'Yes,' said Meenie bitterly, 'and this American--he calls himself a -friend of yours too--and he wants guarantees for your honesty!' - -'It's the usual thing, as he said himself,' Ronald said. 'But don't be -downhearted, my dear. Hopes and disappointments come to every one, and -we must meet them like the rest. The world has always something for -us--even these few minutes--with your cheeks grown warm again--and the -scent of your hair--ay, and your heart as gentle as ever.' - -But she was crying a little. - -'Ronald--surely--it is not possible this chance should be so near -us--and then to be taken away. And can't I do something? I know the -Glengask people will be angry--but--but I would write to Lady Stuart--or -if I could only go to her, that would be better--it would be between -woman and woman, and surely she would not refuse when she knew how we -were placed--and--and it would be something for me to do--for you know -you've married a pauper bride, Ronald--and I bring you nothing--when -even a farmer's daughter would have her store of napery and a chest of -drawers and all that--but couldn't I do this, Ronald?--I would go and -see Lady Stuart--she could not refuse me!' - -He laughed lightly; and his hands were clasped round the soft brown -hair. - -'No, no, no, sweetheart; things will have come to a pretty pass before I -would have you exposed to any humiliation of that sort. And why should -you be down-hearted? The world is young for both of us. Oh, don't you -be afraid; a man that can use his ten fingers and is willing to work -will tumble into something sooner or later; and what is the use of being -lovers if we are not to have our constancy tried? No, no; you keep a -brave heart: if this chance has to be given up, we'll fall in with -another; and maybe it will be all the more welcome that we have had to -wait a little while for it.' - -'A little while, Ronald?' said she. - -He strove to cheer her and reassure her still further; although, indeed, -there was not much time for that; for he had been commanded to dine with -Mr. Hodson at half-past seven; and he knew better than to keep the man -who might possibly be his master waiting for dinner. And presently -Meenie and he were going quietly along the snow-hushed road; and he bade -her good-bye--many and many times repeated--near the little garden-gate; -and then made his way back to the inn. He had just time to brush his -hair and smarten himself up a bit when the pretty Nelly--who seemed to -be a little more friendly and indulgent towards him than in former -days--came to say that she had taken the soup into the parlour, and that -the gentleman was waiting. - -Now Mr. Hodson was an astute person; and he suspected something, and was -anxious to know more; but he was not so ill-advised as to begin with -direct questions. For one thing, there was still a great deal to be -talked over about the Balnavrain estate--which he had almost decided on -purchasing; and, amongst other matters, Ronald was asked whether the -overseer of such a place would consider L400 a year a sufficient salary, -if a plainly and comfortably built house were thrown in; and also -whether, in ordinary circumstances, there would be any difficulty about -a young fellow obtaining two sureties to be responsible for him. From -that it was a long way round to the Doctor's daughter; but Mr. Hodson -arrived there in time; for he had brought for her a present from his own -daughter; and he seemed inclined to talk in a friendly way about the -young lady. And at last he got the whole story. Once started, Ronald -spoke frankly enough. He confessed to his day-dreams about one so far -superior to him in station; he described his going away to Glasgow; his -loneliness and despair there; his falling among evil companions and his -drinking; the message of the white heather; his pulling himself up; and -Meenie's sudden resolve and heroic self-surrender. The private marriage, -too--yes, he heard the whole story from beginning to end; and the more -he heard the more his mind was busy; though he was a quiet kind of -person, and the recital did not seem to move him in any way whatever. - -And yet it may be doubted whether, in all the county of Sutherland, or -in all the realm of England, there was any happier man that night than -Mr. Josiah Hodson. For here was something entirely after his own heart. -His pet hobby was playing the part of a small beneficent Providence; and -he had already befriended Ronald, and was greatly interested in him; -moreover, had he not promised his daughter, when she lay apparently very -near to death, that Ronald should be looked after? But surely he had -never looked forward to any such opportunity as this! And then the girl -was so pretty--that, also, was something. His heart warmed to the -occasion; dinner being over, they drew their chairs towards the big -fireplace where the peats were blazing cheerfully; Ronald was bidden to -light his pipe; and then; the American--in a quiet, indifferent, -sententious way, as if he were talking of some quite abstract and -unimportant matter--made his proposal. - -'Well, now, Ronald,' said he, as he stirred up some of the peats with -his foot, 'you seemed to think that L400 a year and a house thrown in -was good enough for the overseer of that Balnavrain place. I don't know -what your intentions are; but if you like to take that situation, it's -yours.' - -Ronald looked startled--but only for a moment. - -'I thank ye, sir; I thank ye,' he said, with rather a downcast face. 'I -will not say I had no suspicion ye were thinking of some such kindness; -and I thank ye--most heartily I thank ye. But it's beyond me. I could -not get the securities.' - -'Well, now, as to that,' the American said, after a moment's -consideration, 'I am willing to take one security--I mean for the whole -amount; and I want to name the person myself. If Miss Douglas will go -bail for you--or Mrs. Strang, I suppose I should call her--then there is -no more to be said. Ronald, my good fellow, if the place is worth your -while, take it; it's yours.' - -A kind of flash of joy and gratitude leapt to the younger man's eyes; -but all he could manage to say was-- - -'If I could only tell _her_!' - -'Well, now, as to that again,' said Mr. Hodson, rising slowly, and -standing with his back to the fire, 'I have got to take along that -present from my daughter--to-morrow morning would be best; and I could -give her the information, if you wished. But I'll tell you what would -be still better, my friend: you just let me settle this little affair -with the old people--with the mamma, as I understand. I'm not much of a -talkist; but if you give me permission I'll have a try; I think we might -come to some kind of a reasonable understanding, if she doesn't flatten -me with her swell relations. Why, yes, I think I can talk sense to her. -I don't want to see the girl kept in that position; your Scotch -ways--well, we haven't got any old ballads in my country, and we like to -have our marriages fair and square and aboveboard: now let me tell the -old lady the whole story, and try to make it up with her. She can't -scold my head off.' - -And by this time he was walking up and down the room; and he continued-- - -'No; I shall go round to-morrow afternoon, when we come back from the -fishing. And look here, Ronald; this is what I want you to do; you must -get the other boat down to the lake--and you will go in that one--and -get another lad or two--I will pay them anything they want. I can't have -my overseer acting as gillie, don't you see--if I am going to talk with -his mother-in-law; you must get out the other boat; and if you catch a -salmon or two, just you send them along to the Doctor, with your -compliments--do you hear, your compliments, not mine. Now----' - -'And I have not a word of thanks!' Ronald exclaimed. 'My head is just -bewildered----' - -'Say, now,' the American continued quietly--in fact, he seemed to be -considering his finger-nails more than anything else, as he walked up -and down the room--'say, now, what do you think the Doctor's income -amounts to in the year? Not much? Two hundred pounds with all expenses -paid?' - -'I really don't know,' Ronald said--not understanding the drift of this -question. - -'Not three hundred, anyway?' - -'I'm sure I don't know.' - -'Ah. Well, now, I've got to talk to that old lady to-morrow about the -prospects of her son-in-law--though she don't know she has got one,' Mr. -Hodson was saying--half to himself, as it were. 'I suppose she'll jump -on me when I begin. But there's one thing. If I can't convince her -with four hundred a year, I'll try her with five--and Carry shall kiss -me the difference.' - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI.* - - *THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN.* - - -Well, now, some couple of months or so thereafter, this same Miss Carry -was one of a party of four--all Americans--who set out from Lairg -station to drive to Inver-Mudal; and very comfortable and content with -each other they seemed to be when they were ensconced in the big -waggonette. For a convalescent, indeed, Miss Hodson appeared to be in -excellent spirits; but there may have been reasons for that; for she had -recently become engaged; and her betrothed, to mark that joyful -circumstance, had left for Europe with her; and it was his first trip to -English shores; and more especially it was his first trip to the -Highlands of Scotland; and very proud was she of her self-imposed office -of chaperon and expounder and guide. Truth to tell, the long and lank -editor found that in many respects he had fallen upon troublous times; -for not only was he expected to be profoundly interested in historical -matters about which he did not care a red cent, and to accept any and -every inconvenience and discomfort as if it were a special blessing from -on high, and to be ready at all moments to admire mountains and glens -and lakes when he would much rather have been talking of something more -personal to Miss Carry and himself, but also--and this was the cruellest -wrong of all--he had to listen to continued praises of Ronald Strang -that now and again sounded suspiciously like taunts. And on such -occasions he was puzzled by the very audacity of her eyes. She regarded -him boldly--as if to challenge him to say that she did not mean every -word she uttered; and he dared not quarrel with her, or dispute; though -sometimes he had his own opinion as to whether those pretty soft dark -eyes were quite so innocent and simple and straightforward as they -pretended to be. - -'Ah,' said she, as they were now driving away from the village into the -wide, wild moorland, 'ah, when you see Ronald, you will see a man.' - -She had her eyes fixed on him. - -'I suppose they don't grow that kind of a thing in our country,' he -answered meekly. - -'I mean,' she said, with a touch of pride, 'I mean a man who is not -ashamed to be courteous to women--a man who knows how to show proper -respect to women.' - -'Why, yes, I'll allow you won't find that quality in an American,' he -said, with a subtle sarcasm that escaped her, for she was too obviously -bent on mischief. - -'And about the apology, now?' - -'What apology?' - -'For your having published an insulting article about Ronald, to be -sure. Of course you will have to apologise to him, before this very day -is over.' - -'I will do anything else you like,' the long editor said, with much -complaisance. 'I will fall in love with the young bride, if you like. -Or I'll tell lies about the weight of the salmon when I get back home. -But an apology? Seems to me a man making an apology looks about as -foolish as a woman throwing a stone: I don't see my way to that. -Besides, where does the need of it come in, anyhow? You never read the -article. It was very complimentary, as I think; yes, it was so; a whole -column and more about a Scotch gamekeeper----' - -'A Scotch gamekeeper!' Miss Carry said proudly. 'Well, now, just you -listen to me. Ronald knows nothing at all about this article; if he -did, he would only laugh at it; but he never heard of it; and it's not -to be spoken of here. But I mean to speak of it, by and by. I mean to -speak of it, when I make the acquaintance of--what's his distinguished -name?----' - -But here Miss Kerfoot--who, with her married sister, occupied the other -side of the waggonette--broke in. - -'You two quarrelling again!' And then she sighed. 'But what is the good -of a drive, anyway, when we haven't got Doctor Tom and his banjo?' - -'A banjo--in Strath-Terry?' Miss Carry cried. 'Do you mean to say you -would like to hear a banjo tinkle-tinkling in a country like this?' - -'Yes, my dyaw,' said Miss Kerfoot coolly: she had been making some -studies in English pronunciation, and was getting on pretty well. - -'I suppose you can't imagine how Adam passed the time without one in the -Garden of Eden--wanted to play to Eve on the moonlight nights--a -cake-walk, I suppose--pumpkin-pie--why, I wonder what's the use of -bringing you to Europe.' - -For answer Miss Kerfoot began to hum to herself--but with the words -sounding clearly enough-- - - _'I'se gwine back to Dixie,_ - _I'se gwine back to Dixie,_ -_I'se gwine where the orange blossoms grow;_ - - _O, I'd rather be in Dixie,_ - _I'd rather be in Dixie,_ -_For travelling in the Highlands is so----'_ - -But here remorse of conscience smote her; and she seized Carry's hand. - -'No, I won't say it--you poor, weak, invalid thing. And were they -worrying you about the Highlands, and the slow trains, and the stuffy -omnibus at Lairg? Well, they shan't say anything more to you--that they -shan't; and you are to have everything your own way; and I'm going to -fall in love with Ronald, just to keep you company.' - -But alas! when they did eventually get to Inver-Mudal, there was no -Ronald to be found there. Mr. Murray was there, and Mrs. Murray, and -the yellow-haired Nelly; and the travellers were told that luncheon was -awaiting them; and also that Mr. Hodson had had the second boat put in -readiness, lest any of them should care to try the fishing in the -afternoon. - -'But where is Ronald?' said Miss Carry, not in the least concealing her -vexation. - -'Don't cry, poor thing,' Miss Kerfoot whispered to her. 'It shall have -its Ronald!' - -'Oh, don't bother!' she said angrily. 'Mr. Murray, where is Ronald? Is -he with my father on the loch?' - -'No, no; it's the two gillies that's with Mr. Hodson on the loch,' the -innkeeper said. 'And do not you know, Miss, that Ronald is not here at -ahl now; he is away at the place in Ross-shire.' - -'Oh yes, I know that well enough,' she said, 'but my father wrote that -he was coming over to see us for a day or two; and he was to be here -this morning--and his wife as well. But it is of no consequence. I -suppose we had better go in and have lunch now.' - -Miss Kerfoot was covertly laughing. But there was a young lad there -called Johnnie--a shy lad he was, and he was standing apart from the -others, and thus it was that he could see along the road leading down to -the Mudal bridge. Something in that direction attracted Johnnie's -attention; he came over and said a word or two to Mr. Murray; the -innkeeper went to the gable of the house, so that he could get a look up -Tongue way, and then he said-- - -'Oh yes, I think that will be Ronald.' - -'Don't you hear?' said Miss Kerfoot, who was following the others into -the inn. 'They say that Ronald is coming right now.' - -Miss Carry turned at once, and went to where the inn-keeper was -standing. Away along there, and just coming over the bridge, was a -dog-cart, with two figures in it. She watched it. By and by it was -pulled up in front of the Doctor's cottage; she guessed that that was -Meenie who got down from the vehicle and went into the house; no doubt -this was Ronald who was now bringing the dog-cart along to the inn. And -then the others were summoned; and presently Ronald had arrived and was -being introduced to them; and Miss Carry had forgotten all her -impatience, for he looked just as handsome and good-natured and -modest-eyed as ever; and it was very clear that Miss Kerfoot was much -impressed with the frankness and simplicity of his manner; and the -editor strove to be particularly civil; and Mrs. Lalor regarded the -new-comer with an obviously approving glance. For they all had heard -the story; and they were interested in him, and in his young wife; -besides, they did not wish to wound the feelings of this poor invalid -creature--and they knew what she thought of Ronald. - -And how was he to answer all at once these hundred questions about the -Ross-shire place, and the house that was building for them, and the farm -where he and his wife were temporarily staying? - -'Come in and have lunch with us, Ronald,' said Miss Carry, in her usual -frank way, 'and then you will tell us all about it. We were just going -in; and it's on the table.' - -'I cannot do that very well, I thank ye,' said he, 'for I have to go -back to the Doctor's as soon as I have seen the mare looked after-- - -'Oh, but I thought you were coming down to the loch with us!' she said, -with very evident disappointment. - -'Yes, yes, to be sure!' said he. 'I'll be back in a quarter of an hour -at the furthest; and then I'll take one of the lads with me and we'll -have the other boat got out as well.' - -'But you don't understand, Ronald,' she said quickly. 'The other boat is -there--ready--and two gillies, and rods, and everything. I only want -you to come with us for luck; there's always good luck when you are in -the boat. Ah, do you know what they did to me on Lake George?' - -'Indeed, I was sorry to hear of it, Miss,' said he gravely. - -'Miss!' she repeated, with a kind of reproach; but she could not keep -the others waiting any longer; and so there was an appointment made that -they were all to meet at the loch-side in half an hour; and she and her -friends went into the house. - -When it came to setting out, however, Mrs. Lalor begged to be excused; -she was a little bit tired, she said, and would go and lie down. So the -other three went by themselves; and when they got down to the loch, they -not only found that Ronald was there awaiting them, but also that Mr. -Hodson had reeled up his lines and come ashore to welcome them. Of -course that was the sole reason. At the same time the gillies had got -out three remarkably handsome salmon and put them on the grass; and that -was the display that met the eyes of the strangers when they drew near. -Mr. Hodson was not proud; but he admitted that they were good-looking -fish. Yes; it was a fair morning's work. But there were plenty more -where these came from, he said encouragingly; they'd better begin. - -Whereupon Miss Carry said promptly-- - -'Come along, Em. Mr. Huysen, will you go with pappa, when he is ready? -And Ronald will come with us, to give us good luck at the start.' - -Miss Kerfoot said nothing, but did as she was bid; she merely cast a -glance at Mr. Huysen as they were leaving; and her eyes were demure. - -However, if she considered this manoeuvre--as doubtless she did--a piece -of mere wilful and perverse coquetry on the part of her friend, she was -entirely mistaken. It simply never would have entered Miss Carry's head -that Ronald should have gone into any other person's boat, so long as -she was there--nor would it have entered his head either. But besides -that, she had brought something for him; and she wished to have time to -show it to him; and so, when the boat was well away from the shore, and -when he had put out both the lines, she asked him to be so kind as to -undo the long case lying there, and to put the rod together, and say -what he thought of it. It was a salmon-rod, she explained; of American -make; she had heard they were considered rather superior articles; and -if he approved of this one, she begged that he would keep it. - -He looked up with a little surprise. - -'Ye are just too kind,' said he. 'There's that beautiful rug that you -sent to my wife, now----' - -'But isn't it useful?' she said, in her quick, frank way. 'Isn't it -comfortable? When you were coming along this morning, didn't she find -it comfortable?' - -'Bless me!' he cried. 'Do you think she would put a beautiful thing -like that into a dog-cart to be splashed with mud, and soiled with one's -boots? No, no; it's put over an easy-chair at the Doctor's, until we -get a house of our own, and proud she is of it, as she ought to be.' - -And proud was he, too, of this beautiful rod--if he declared that it was -far too fine for this coarse trolling work; and Miss Kerfoot arrived at -the impression that if he could not make pretty speeches of thanks, -there was that in his manner that showed he was not ungrateful. - -Nor was Miss Carry's faith in Ronald's good luck belied; for they had -not been more than twenty minutes out on the loch when they had got hold -of something; and at once she rose superior to the excitement of the -gillies, and to the consternation of her American friend. Perhaps she -was showing off a little; at all events, she seemed quite cool and -collected, as if this strain on the rod and the occasional long scream -of the reel were a usual kind of thing; and Ronald looked on in quiet -composure, believing that his pupil was best left alone. But alas! -alas! for that long illness. The fish was a heavy one and a game -fighter; Miss Carry's arms were weaker than she had thought; at the end -of about a quarter of an hour--during which time the salmon had been -plunging and boring and springing, and making long rushes in every -conceivable manner--she began to feel the strain. But she was a brave -lass; as long as ever she could stand upright, she held on; then she -said, rather faintly-- - -'Ronald!' - -'Take the rod,' she said, 'the fish isn't played out; but I am.' - -'What's the matter?' said he, in great alarm, as she sank on to the -seat. - -'Oh, nothing, nothing,' she said, though she was a little pale. 'Give -Em the rod--give Miss Kerfoot the rod--quick, Em, get up and land your -first salmon.' - -'Oh my gracious, no! I should die of fright!' was the immediate answer. - -But Ronald had no intention of allowing Miss Carry's salmon to be handed -over to any one else. He turned to the gillies. - -'Is there not a drop of whisky in the boat? Quick, lads, if you have -such a thing--quick, quick!-- - -They handed him a small green bottle; but she shrank from it. - -'The taste is too horrid for anything,' she said. 'But I will have -another try. Stand by me, Ronald; and mind I don't fall overboard.' - -She got hold of the rod again; he held her right arm--but only to steady -her. - -'Carry--Carry!' her friend said anxiously. 'I wish you'd leave it -alone. Remember, you've been ill--it's too much for you--oh, I wish the -thing would go away!' - -'I mean to wave the banner over this beast, if I die for it,' Miss Carry -said, under her breath; and Ronald laughed--for that was more of his way -of thinking. - -'We'll have him, sure enough,' he said. 'Ay, and a fine fish, too, that -I know.' - -'Oh, Ronald!' she cried. - -For there was a sudden and helpless slackening of the line. But she had -experience enough to reel up hard; and presently it appeared that the -salmon was there--very much there, in fact, for now it began to go -through some performances--within five-and-twenty yards of the -boat--that nearly frightened Miss Kerfoot out of her wits. And then -these cantrips moderated slowly down; the line was got in shorter; -Ronald, still steadying Miss Carry's right arm with his left hand, got -hold of the clip in the other; and the young lady who was the spectator -of all this manoeuvring began rather to draw away in fear, as that large -white gleaming thing showed nearer and nearer the coble. Nay, she -uttered a quick cry of alarm when a sudden dive of the steel hook -brought out of the water a huge silvery creature that the next moment -was in the bottom of the boat; and then she found that Carry had sunk -down beside her, pretty well exhausted, but immensely proud: and that -the gillies were laughing and vociferous and excited over the capture; -and Ronald calmly getting out his scale-weight from his pocket. The -other boat was just then passing. - -'A good one?' Mr. Hodson called out. - -'Just over sixteen pounds, sir.' - -'Well done. But leave us one or two; don't take them all.' - -Miss Carry paid no heed. She was far too much exhausted; but pleased -and satisfied, also, that she had been able to see this fight to the -end. And she remembered enough of the customs of the country to ask the -two gillies to take a dram--though it had to come from their own bottle; -she said she would see that that was replenished when they got back to -the inn. - -It was a beautiful clear evening as they all of them--the fishing having -been given up for the day--walked away through the meadows, and up into -the road, and so on to the little hamlet; the western sky was shining in -silver-gray and lemon and saffron; and there was a soft sweet feeling -almost as of summer in the air, though the year was yet young. They had -got six fish all told; that is to say, Mr. Hodson's boat had got one -more in the afternoon; while Miss Carry had managed to pick up a small -thing of eight pounds or so just as they were leaving off. The fact -was, they did not care to prosecute the fishing till the last moment; -for there was to be a little kind of a dinner-celebration that evening; -and no doubt some of them wanted to make themselves as smart as -possible--though the possibilities, as a rule, don't go very far in the -case of a fishing-party in a Highland inn--all to pay due honour to the -bride. - -And surely if ever Meenie could lay claim to the title of Rose-Meenie it -was on this evening when she came among these stranger folk--who were -aware of her story, if not a word was said or hinted of it--and found -all the women be-petting her. And Mrs. Douglas was there, radiant in -silk and ribbons, if somewhat austere in manner; and the big -good-natured Doctor was there, full to overflowing with jests and quips -and occult Scotch stories; and Mr. and Mrs. Murray had done their very -best for the decoration of the dining-room--though Sutherlandshire in -April is far from being Florida. And perhaps, too, Miss Carry was a -little paid out when she saw the perfectly servile adulation which Mr. -J. C. Huysen (who had a sensitive heart, according to the young men of -the _N. Y. Sun_) laid at the feet of the pretty young bride; though Mr. -Hodson rather interfered with that, claiming Mrs. Strang as his own. Of -course, Miss Kerfoot was rather down-hearted, because of the absence of -her Tom and his banjo; but Ronald had promised her she should kill a -salmon on the morrow; and that comforted her a little. Mrs. Lalor had -recovered, and was chiefly an amused spectator; there was a good deal of -human nature about; and she had eyes. - -Altogether it was a pleasant enough evening; for, although the Americans -and the Scotch are the two nations out of all the world that are the -most madly given to after-dinner speech-making, nothing of the kind was -attempted: Mr. Hodson merely raised his glass and gave 'The Bride!' and -Ronald said a few manly and sensible words in reply. Even Mrs. Douglas -so far forgot the majesty of Glengask and Orosay as to become quite -complaisant; perhaps she reflected that it was, after all, chiefly -through the kindness of these people that her daughter and her -daughter's husband had been placed in a comfortable and assured -position. - -Ronald and Meenie had scarcely had time as yet to cease from being -lovers; and so it was that on this same night he presented her with two -or three more of those rhymes that sometimes he still wrote about her -when the fancy seized him. In fact, he had written these verses as he -sate on the deck of the big screw-steamer, when she was slowly steaming -up the Raasay Sound. - -_O what's the sweetest thing there is_ - _In all the wide, wide world?--_ -_A rose that hides its deepest scent_ - _In the petals closely curled?_ - -_Of the honey that's in the clover;_ - _Or the lark's song in the morn;_ -_Or the wind that blows in summer_ - _Across the fields of corn;_ - -_Or the dew that the queen of the fairies_ - _From her acorn-chalice sips?_ -_Ah no; for sweeter and sweeter far_ - _Is a kiss from Meenie's lips!_ - -And Meenie was pleased--perhaps, indeed, she said as much and showed as -much, when nobody was by; but all the same she hid away the little -fragment among a mass of similar secret treasures she possessed; for she -was a young wife now; and fully conscious of the responsibilities of her -position; and well was she aware that it would never do for any one to -imagine that nonsense of that kind was allowed to interfere with the -important public duties of the factor of Balnavrain. - - - - - THE END. - - - - - - - * * * * * * * * - - - - - - - *NOVELS BY WILLIAM BLACK.* - - _Crown 8vo. 6s. each._ - - -THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. Illustrated. -A PRINCESS OF THULE. -THE MAID OF KILLEENA; and other Tales. -MADCAP VIOLET. -GREEN PASTURES AND PICCADILLY. -MACLEOD OF DARE. With Illustrations. -WHITE WINGS; a Yachting Romance. -THE BEAUTIFUL WRETCH; The Four Macnicols; A Pupil of Aurelius. -SHANDON BELLS. -YOLANDE: The Story of a Daughter. -JUDITH SHAKESPEARE. -THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS, a Tale; and other Miscellanies. - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. - - -A DAUGHTER OF HETH. -KILMENY. -THREE FEATHERS. -LADY SILVERDALE'S SWEETHEART. -IN SILK ATTIRE. -SUNRISE. - - SAMPSON LOW AND CO., LONDON. - - - _A BOOK FOR BOYS._ - -ADVENTURES IN THULE: Three Stories for Boys. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. - - MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. - - - - _*A Selection from Macmillan's Popular Novels.*_ - - In Crown 8vo, cloth. Price 6s. each Volume. - - -BY CHARLES KINGSLEY. - -Westward Ho! -Hereward the Wake. -Two Years Ago. -Alton Locke. With Portrait. -Yeast. -Hypatia. - -John Inglesant. By J. H. SHORTHOUSE. -Tom Brown's Schooldays. -Tom Brown at Oxford. -A Family Affair. By HUGH CONWAY. -Bengal Peasant Life. By LAL BEHARI DAY. -Virgin Soil. By TOURGENIEF. -Miss Bretherton. By Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD. -Bethesda. By BARBARA ELBON. -Jill. By E. A. DILLWYN. -Mitchelhurst Place. By MARGARET VELEY. - - -BY THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN." - -The Ogilvies. Illustrated by J. M. M'RALSTON. -The Head of the Family. Illustrated by WALTER CRANE. -Olive. Illustrated by G. BOWERS. -Agatha's Husband. Illustrated by WALTER CRANE. -My Mother and I. Illustrated by J. M. M'RALSTON. -Miss Tommy. Illustrated by F. NOEL PATON. - - -BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. - -The Heir of Redclyffe. -Heartsease. -Hopes and Fears. -The Daisy Chain. -Pillars of the House. 2 vols. -The Clever Woman of the Family. -Dynevor Terrace. -The Young Stepmother. -The Trial. -My Young Alcides. -The Three Brides. -The Caged Lion. -The Dove in the Eagle's Nest. -Love and Life. -The Chaplet of Pearls. -Lady Hester and the Danvers Papers. -Magnum Bonum. -Unknown to History. -Stray Pearls. -The Armourer's 'Prentices. - - -BY ANNIE KEARY. - -Castle Daly. -A Doubting Heart. -Oldbury. -A York and a Lancaster Rose. -Clemency Franklyn. - - -BY HENRY JAMES. - -The American. -The Europeans. -Daisy Miller: An International Episode: Four Meetings. -Roderick Hudson. -The Madonna of the Future, and other Tales. -Washington Square: The Pension Beaurepas: A Bundle of Letters. -The Portrait of a Lady. -Stories Revived. Two Series. - - -BY FRANCIS H. BURNETT. - -Haworth's. -Louisiana; and That Lass o' Lowrie's. - - -BY MRS. OLIPHANT. - -Hester. -Sir Tom. -The Wizard's Son. -A Beleaguered City. - - -..class:: center - -MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE HEATHER (VOLUME III OF 3) -*** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43446 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. 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