Malcolm

fore entering the grounds of Lossie House. But he had met with little success, and was now approaching the town gate, as they called it

fish hae ye?" she sai

me, Mistress Catan

feet at ance in ony street o' Portlossie, I'll tell ye

Mistress Catanach!"

ye nae mair nor the trowth. But what garred ye whup's a' oot o' oor nakit beds

e had been feart o' sleepin' ower lang, ye see, an' sae

'gen the chap (befor

The puir man wod hae bur

l'-the auld heelan' sholt!" exc

my gran'father, Mrs Catanach

ed a stra

a's your gran'father, that I sud tak tent (he

f would be friendliness-"But what'll ye be seek

and would have taken the fish in her han

Hoose to my lord's

'll be seekin' a saxpence for 't, I reckon,"

back now in the fear that if she once had it she wou

there seen 't yet. It'

as doon last nicht, an' w

ntin' auld body! Gie me the trootie, Ma'colm. Ye'

obleege ye. It's bespoken, ye see. But there's a fine hadd

s, an' yer goukmeys! Ye

tu, an' maybe the lave o' them as weel. Hers is a muckle faimily to haud eatin

t wi' me," said Mrs

at. Ye maun see ye

k with anger. "It s' be t

ll, though ye div ken a body's fit upo' the flags! My blin' luckie deddy can du m

ks now red as fire, and her wicked eyes fla

ing his head back over his shoulder, fo

funlin'!" shrieked the woman, an

elf. "She micht ha' seen 'at I bude t

a lake of the loveliest green, spangled with starry daisies. The air was full of sweet odours uplifted with the ascending dew, and trembled with a hundred songs at once, for here was a very paradise for birds. At length he came in sight of a

ateau, only it looked stronger and far grimmer. Carved around some of the windows, in ancient characters, were Scripture texts and antique proverbs. Two time worn specimens of heraldic zoology, in a state of fearful and everlasting excitement, stood rampant and gaping, one on each side of the hall door, contrasting strangely with the repose of the ancient house, which looked very like what the oldest part of it was said to have been-a mon

ansparent hue, almost red, gathered from the peat bogs of the great moorland hill behind. Only a very narrow terrace walk, with battlemented parapet, lay between the back of the house, and a precipitous descent of a hundred feet to this rivulet. Up its banks, lovely wit

o be handled by a housemaid. This portion of the building was so narrow that the hall occupied its ent

when she turned and saw whose shadow fell on

me 'cause I wadna gie't to her! You wad hae thocht, mem, she was something no canny-the

se are nice whitings. I don't care about the

it, mem. She's an awfu' ve

. He is not in a Christian frame of mind at all-and he is an old man too. If we don't forg

of Mr Graham. "But ye'll be meanin' Cawmill o' Glenlyon," he went on with a smile. "It canna maitt

xious about," said Mrs Courthope. "Nor is it only Campbell of

ic a bein' o' the face o' the yearth

no bad logician. "The question isn't whether or not there's anyb

hough he wad be as sair astonish

hat you mean by

himsel' richt, seein' he canna ken ither fowk richt. It's by

people. He hears them, and he feels them, and indeed has ge

tle kin'ness my gran'father has expair

jury, I should suppose

ather. Whan I hard it, I thocht I cud jist rive the hert o' 'im, an' set my teeth in't, as the Dutch sodger did to the Spainiard. But whan I got a grip o' 'im, an' the rascal turned up a frichtit kin' o' a dog-like face to me, I jist could not drive my steikit neive (clenched fist) intil't. Mem, a face is

echoed Mrs Courthope, in ho

but he wad neither durk him nor fling him in. no that sure he wadna even ran (reach) him a han'. Ae thing I am

tory to be startled at the taken for granted way in which Malcolm spoke. "Is it

God's forgien

r any other man; but, as you ask me,

lin' grandfather for no forgiein'

d Mrs Courthope feebly, finding herse

hear a' aboot it the meenit he wins there; an' I m

et there?" persisted Mrs Co

jist yallow faced Willie ower again!*-Na, na; things gang anither gait up there. My gran'father's a

rime mover in the M

s much of a heathen as his grandfather, for in silence she chose her fish, in si

hope having waived her right to the fish in favour of Mrs Catanach, he f

door, which generally stood a little ajar. "Ye s' hae't for

ed from his hand, and flung so violently in his face, that he staggered back into the road: the factor had to pull sharply up to avoid driving over him. His rout rather than retreat was followed by a burst of insulting laug

ach to the brute as he ran: "tak it to Mrs

slammed her door, and from a window

vered from the fit of merriment into which the sudden explosion of events had cast h

r fish too ch

at last by a sense of the ludicrousness of the whole aff

wa' in sic a hurry: he bed (rema

his bonnet. It was Miss Horn,

e yon, mem

ecrets mair nor guid, I s' wad (wager). Come awa' wi' me; I want a bit fish. I can ill eat an' her lyin' deid I' the hoose-it winna gang ower; but I maun get some strength pitten intil me afore the berial. It's a God

be there's no sic a thing, but yon's unco like ane. As bonny a sawmon troot 's e

die! haud

en. But sic a fine troot 's that-t

ere's mair whaur that cam fr

to gie Mistress Courthope the f

better luik till, for she's no canny. Dinna ye anger her again gien ye can help it. She

Miss Horn ferreted the needful pence from a pocket under her gown. She now entered, b

id frien' she was to you, sae lang's she

uth he

mem, an' jist some feared," he s

n creation,-an' that quaiet!-Eh! sic a heap o' them as there has been sin' Awbel," she went on-"an ilk ane them luikin, as gien there never had

ll, mem," said M

followed her in silence up the

en thing she had called "the bit boxie:" and with a

once resigned and unyielding, that strangely drew the heart of Malcolm. He saw a low white forehead, large eyeballs upheaving closed lids, finely modelled features of which the tightened ski

m," she said. "Ye ma' aye touch the de

be ower bonny a dream to miss.-Are they a' li

dear," she added with sudden divergence, bending towards the still face, and speaking in a tenderly apologetic tone; "I ken weel ye canna bide the verra na

his breath; "my han's are no clean. I wad

irresistibleness was veiled in his unconsciousne

d back erect with dis

n an agonised whisper

rted Miss Horn. "Wad ye

he sense of a faint sting on his lips. She led h

po' Setterday?" she asked, h

swered. "I promised Maister Graham to ta

ye, nae doobt, an' we canna help it.

he's unco gratefu' for ony sic attention," sa