A SCOTCH MIST.

Evening Star, Issue 6762, 29 November 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

A SCOTCH MIST.

A TALE OF MODERN LIFE IN SCOTLAND. BY MISS LEILA WOOD. CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued.) Next morning (Thursday) Jessio received a letter from her mother, Baying Bhe won d like her to return home, and that she would expect her that day week. " One more week at Glencairn,"she sighed. "Oh ! how I wish I had never set foot on the threshold, and jet I would not for the world have missed the few bright weeks J have had since Roy and I have loved each other, for I'm sure he really does love me, although he has never told mo bo. But, oh! what a dishonorable love—the love of a man already married, and whOße wife is living. Oh, Roy, Roy, my love, my darling, she otied, throwing herself on her bed face downwards, buried in the pillow, and clasping her hands above her head, " I must and will love you, although I know it is wrong; I cannot and will not try to forget you.' She raised herself from the bed, and whißpered to herself, "But I must never let you know I love you, Roy. I will l et you think I have been only flirting." That morning Bhe rode over to Crara Inn with the rest of the party, «i f nothing had happened. Donald rode at her side, but did not mention anything of their last night's conversation, nordidheshowberanyattention beyond what was demanded by common courtesy, When they arrived at the little inn, Roy hastened forward to help her to a!ight, but just as he had reached her Bide she turned to Donald and said : "Will you assist me to dismount, Donald ?" .He immediately lifted her from the saddle, and Roy looked a little surprised, as in all the riding excursions this had been his privilege, but no extended his hand and said in a low, anxious voice: " How pale you are! I hope the ride has not been too much for you. Come in and rest. I will St you a glass of wine. Jessie! are you ?" he exclaimed, as her pallor increased. "No. I'm perfectly well, or, atleaßt, I have a slight headache. How is your brother, and have you heard anything of the cowardly fellow who shot him?" and Bhe looked keenly into his face. '' Alan says he knows the fellow who did it, and has made my father promise not to investigate." "No, of course," thought Jessie, "heiß too noble and good to prosecute his own brother, although that brother was not too good to try and take his life in his hasty temper," and turning away she followed the others into the little parlor. Lady Glencairn came in and said Alan waß better, but still weak, and that Bhe did not intend returning to Glencairn till Saturday. Eppie was, she declared, an excellent companion for her, and Eppie's pretty gentle face blushed to the her soft golden hair. Lady Glencairn wonld permit no one to see Alan but his father. After a lunch of aweet home-made bread, oatmeal cake, cheese, and excellent batter, with ale and milk, the whole party tamed homeward. Lady Glencairn told Roy Bhe could dispense with his company, so he returned with .them. Miss McGregor, accompanied by the laird, and Miss Reitb, who was too timid to ride, had come in the pony'carriage. The Major rode with Janet, and, of course, Edgar Cassell and bis cousin were inseparable. Jesßie, Douglaß, Donald, and Roy rode in a party, and to have seen Jessie bestowing her smiles on each in turn, no one wonld have guessed what an aching heart was hidden under that gay exterior. In the evening the time was passed in the drawing-room with singing, musio, etc. Roy challenged Jessie to play a game of chess. In the middle of the game he leant forward and whispered—- " I was so miserable last night." "And well you might be,' thought Jessie.

"I imagined I could hear you singing • Ye banks and braes,' or that lovely song ' Dreaming,'while I was sitting moped up in that pokey little inn parlor. Jessie, after this game will you sing '.Dreaming' ? I'm so fond of that song." " Look to your queen, Mr Roy, she is in danger." "Mrßoy! Is that my new name, Miss Jessie? I have only one queen, the queen of my heart," he whispered, leaning over and trying to look into her eyes. But Jessie obstinately kept her eyes lowered. " Jessie," he Baid, "what is the matter? You've been snubbing me all day !" "Oh!" she replied, laughing, "I am growing good, and have entirely given up flirting. "Flirting! What do you mean ?" •' What I say. Please attend to the game. There is nothing I dislike bo muoh as talking at chess."

When the game was finished, Jessie rose 'and went to the table where Ruth, Agnes, Edgar, and Donald were playing bagatelle. Miss M'Gregor had succeeded in engaging the Major in conversation with herself near the fire, and was displaying all-the tricks and the kitten to nis unappreciaingeye'" Janet was at the piano, attended by the laird and young Enrol, who was Binging. Roy left the room. Jessie felt a'most suffocated, and escaped to the conservatory leading from the drawing-room without being observed. She sat on a low seat almost hidden by ferns. Although it was a cold night;' and she had just left the warm room, she felt hot and feverish.

" It is so quiet and cool here," she thought, " he will not dream I am here. If he return to the drawing-room, he will think I have gone to bed. Oh! how miserable I feel, out I must not and will not give in, and I wiH not let his false words have any effect on me." , But she was mistaken in thinking he would not find her out, for in a few moments the door opened on the opposite side, then gently closed, and there stood Roy. Catching sight of the light dress she wore, he advanced, and, stooping down, looked into her face. " What are you doing here, child, he said, " you will catch cold." " I do not feel cold, thank you." «' Some one was saying you are going home next week, so I came to tell you the secret you must have guessed long ere this. Jessie, dear little Jessie, you know I love you, do you not?" he said, taking her cold hand in his and seating himself beside her. But she started to her feet, and said, with a sort of sob in her voice—- " Oh, pray say no more ! let this be forgotten. I will not, cannot marry you, so I beg of you let the matter stop here. It was only a flirtation, and cannot be carried further." He rose to his feet and looked into her face with a haggard, wild look. "Flirtation! Good Heaven ! Can I have been mistaken, I thought you loved me. Oh Jessie, my darling, don't trifle with me. Say you don't mean it." "I do mean it. Please let me pass, indeed I am not trifling." He stood aside, and she passed away from his sight into the drawing-room. He remained for a moment watchiDg the door through which she had disappeared, with a vacant stare, then cast himself on the bench, face downwards, and hands clenched. " Oh Heaven " ! he cried in his agony, "I thought her bo good, so loving and true. Ob, to think that she was trifling, flirting with me, taking my heart but to tramp'e it underfoot, like the meanest thing that_ lives. What a cruel awakening from so bright a dream! What a fool I have been not to see through it before No ! no !" starting to his feet, "she is true and good; she is only making a trial of my love. Dear little tearing, winning Jessie, I'll follow her, and she will no doubt laugh, and tell me I've been dreaming. Of course she loves me! Has she not shown it in every look and word of late, in spite of herself." He went out into the garden, walked rapidly up and down for a few minutes, and then entered the drawing-room. But Jessie waß not there j most of the ladies had retired. T . Soon after breakfast next day Jessie received a telegram from her mother for her to return home at once. Her father bad met with a buggy accident, not serious, but her mother required her at home. She had to leave by the evening train, so leaving messages and apologies for Lady Glencairn, for her hasty departure, she left for Edinburgh. The laird accompanied her as far 88 Dalmally in the carriage, and saw her comfortably settled in the train. Roy would have

had to have done this, but that day a walking excursion was organised, and Roy had to be guide. Jessie was very glad that such was the case. Before Bhe left he contrived to whisper, . "Jessie, were you in earnest last night ? " Perfectly in earnest," she answered, and turned away. While she was whirling home in the train to Edinburgh, rolled up in a thick rug, and wondering if the sun and flowers could ever appear so bright and fair to her again as they did before the day of Alan's accident, Alan and Eppie were wondering if anything could ever make them think the world otherwise than beautiful and joyous. Lady G'encairn and Eppie had been with Alan all day, as he lay on a couch in a little private sitting-room, so towards evening Lady Glencairn said "ComeEppie, we will go for a little walk before dark, and leave our patient to amuse himself." They put on their wraps and set out; but they had gone only a few paces, when Lady Glencairn said: "Ob, Eppie, would you mind going back to the sitting-room to bring nsy handkerchief?" Away went Eppie and looked about the room, but no handkerchief was visible. " Would you be kind enough to give me my book; it slipped down here somewhere, Eppie," said Alan. As she stooped beside the sofa to pick up the book he caught her hands in his. "Oh, please let me go; Lady Glencairn wants her handkerchief, and I can't find it." "Lady Glencairn is in the secret, little girl, and Bent yon up on purpose. No, Eppie, it's no use to try and run away. I shall not let you go till you tell me if you love me; do you dear?" he whispered, drawing her head down. " Yes," came her answer, ever so faintly, as she hid her face on his shoulder.

About twenty minutes later on, Lady Glencaim was heard asoending the stairs. As she entered, Eppie rose to her feet. She bad been kneeling at the side of the patient’s conch. Lady Glencairn advanced, took Eppie’s face between her hands, and kissed her heartily. “You must forgive the little ruse, my dear,” she said, “but Alan thought you were such a timid little mouse that he was afraid you would not come if 1 told you he wanted you, so we had to resort to stratagem; but I must welcome you, my dear, as my future daughter, 1 suppose, and so 1 do, with all my heart.” CHAPTER VII. Next week the party at Glencairn broke up and dispersed; Edgar and his cousin to England, young Errol to his home, and Agnes Reith to hers. Miss M'Gregor was to spend the remainder of the winter at Glencairn, In the spring she was going with a family on the Continent. Major Stewart took rooms in Edinburgh; Janet had given him the answer he wanted, and they were to be married in a year's time, Alan was now almost convalescent, but a few days after Eppie returned to Edinburgh she had a letter from him, saying that Roy had a low fever. As soon as Donald had settled at home again he made a point of calling on the Lennoxs, Mr Lennox had sustained a fracture of the arm in the accident, but had now quite recovered. Donald had always made himself very agreeable to them, and so was rather a favorite. He now became a constant visitor, and one night about a month after bis return to Edinburgh he called, and found Mr Lennox alone, Jessie and her mother being out. He thought he had better take this opportunity of asking Mr Lennox if he had any objection to his asking Jessie to be his wife. Mr Lennox, who was an easy, good-tempered man, and who knew nothing of Donald’s financial affairs, nor even dreamed of anything being wrong with them, immediately gave his consent. “ I’m not rich,” said Donald, as if in a sudden burst of candour, "but I have a comfortable house and income, and will endeavor to make a good husband.” “Jessiewill have a good fortune of her own when she marries, so don’t mind about not being rich, my lad. Be kind and make her happy is all I ask,” So next day Donald contrived to meet Jessie when she was out walking. “Do not think me impatient,” he said when he had told her of her father’s consent; “but yon know, Jessie, you promised I should have my answer soon ; and it is now three months since I asked you to be my wife.” “You do not expect that I can love you now?”

"No, dear; but I hope to win that yet." "It can never be; but I will give you an answer to-morrow."

She told her parents when she went home. They said they knew nothing against him, and that she might accept or reject him according to her own feelings. Jessie, very foolishly, had never told her mother of her attachment to Boy. Ever since her earliest childhood she bad told her mother everything, but this she could not speak of even to her. It seemed such a sacred thing, so entirely her own, that she could not bring herself to utter a word of it. Had she confided in her mother (a girl's best friend), she would have had good advice, and much of her trouble would have been spared. It seemed to her that it would be betraying Roy, and letting people know his guilt if she had spoken of it. So, when Donald came nextnight, he was received as Mr and Mrs Lennox's future' son-in-law. As he turned homeward that evening he rubbed his bands together, and a smile lit up his face. "The next thing," he muttered, "is a speedy marriage. I thought I should bring my lady to her senses. Oil Lochalen Hall will be saved after all. When the old people find out after we're married that my home and income are not quite so comfortable as I led them to believe, they will not see me want for Jessie's sake ; bo I'm all right. I know I needn't have looked to the Major for help; he hasn't much love for me. Yes, I must hurry on the wedding now, or perhaps she will change her mind, or Roy may appear on the scenes, or the real assassin may turn up and upset my little plans. When once she and her money are mine I don't care what happens, Besides, the longer I wait the more complicated my affairs are becoming. I can't hang out much longer." j Meanwhile Jessie's thoughts ran thus:— "What does it matter whether I love him or not. I can't marry Roy—the only man I shall ever love—and so I may as well marry ■ Donald. I dare say Roy has forgotten me by this time. Men never, never love like women; it is not their nature, Oh, how I wish I had never seen Glencairn ; how little I thought when I was so happy at the prospect of going there that I should be so utterly miserable now. lam glad Eppie is happy; one at least profited by the visit." j The next day Eppie called to see Jessie, j who was in her "sanctum," apparently; painting, but in reality merely dabbling her brushes in and out the water. j

"Jessie !" exclaimed Eppie, after the firstj greetings were over, "I met Janet just now, : and she told me you are engaged to her brother. Oh, Jessie ! it is not true ?" j "It is quite true," replied Jessie with a sob, as she turned her head away. i " Jessie, dear old chum, what is the meaning of it? You don't Jove him, I know,'' said Eppie, putting her arm round Jessie's neck, and lowering her voice, " tell me, dear, am I not right; you love Roy yet?" ! " Yes; I love Roy, but am engaged to Donald, Ep. ; please don't ask me to explain, I can't; I can'l. And if you have any love for me, don't Bpeak of Roy." "But it is only because I love you so much that I speak to you thus. I will ask you to explain. Do you consider what you are doing, dear; do you think how wrong it is to love one man and marry another, letting him think your love is his ?" "Donald knows I do not love him." "But, Jessie, I am sure Roy is as fond of you as you are of him. it would be different if you had loved him and he had been false; then you might marry Donald, and try your best to love him ; but it is injustice to both to love Roy, who is, I am sure, true, and marry Donald." "Eppie, forgive me, dear, but I cannot And will not talk on this subject. There ib something you know nothing of. I may tell you some day, but please let the matter drop, and I beg you not to mention it io anyone else." Eppie knew Jessie's determined will well enough to give up the conversation just then. She tried to renew it on several occasions after this, but Jessie would give no satisfaction, and so, at length, Eppie gave up

the case aa hop- less. Roy had been very ill but was now gaining strength, and ono da] while with his mother he told her hii trouble, and how Jessie had refused him Lady Glencairn was surprised, for she, witl a mother’s eye, had noticed that Jessie seemed very fond of her son, and hac secretly hoped that she would marry Roy, for she was much attached to Jessie, How ever, when Roy told her she said “Oh! 1 daresay, Roy, dear, it will come all right ir the end ; ” but she felt that something wai wrong somewhere. As Roy began to gait strength Alan spent more of his time it Edinburgh, so Jessie and Eppie did not sec so much of one another, but their friendship did not diminish on this account, Eppie did not say anything to Alan of what had passed between Jessie and herself regarding Roy, at she thought he might repeat it to Roy, and, perhaps, mischief might be brought about, How much better it would have been had she told him!

I The Major often wrote and invited his old favorite, Roy, to come and spend a week or two with him, but invariably received an answer containing an excuse for not doing so. Roy had heard of Jessie's engagement, and could not bear the thought of seeing her and speaking to her, knowing she was betrothed to another. She had been engaged about three months when Donald began to beg her to let the marriage take place in another two months' time. "I don't care to get married yet," she said. "But, dear Jessie, consider how long I have loved and waited for you," he answered, taking her unwilling hand in his. "Well, you may speak to mamma, she will make the necessary arrangements," she said, drawing away her hand; " but I don't want to be bothered about it." And so it was arranged that the wedding was to take place in May. It was now March. A few days after this Eppie received a letter from Alan, saying Roy had been ordered to England for a change, and that he was going with him for company. And meanwhile all arrangements were being made for Jessie'B wedding. Her mother came to her room one morning and said: "Haveyou decided what your wedding dress is to be made of, dear ? I was thinking we might go out and buy the stuff to day." " On, I don't know, mamma; just please yourself," was her reply as she turned and looked out at the window. " Please myself, Jessie ! What do you mean ? lam not the one to be pleased in this case." "Well, mamma, I don't care what it is made of. Do, please, make all arrangements without reference to me," she said, turning Buch a white, woe-begone face to her mother, who became quite alarmed. "What is the matter, dear?" she exclaimed ; "are yon not well ?" "Oh yes, thanks, mother dear, I'm quite well; that is—l mean I have a slight headache." "You said nothing of it this morning. Lie down for a little while; I will bring you some sal volatile. You are over-excited about this wedding of yours, bo we must postpone the shopping until to-morrow." She soon returned with the sal volatile, and then-went away, saying: "Try and sleep a little while, dear." As soon as her mother's footsteps died away, Jessie rose from her bed, went to the door, and locked it. She then pressed her forehead, which really was throbbing painfully, against the cold window pane. "Oh, what a miserable, wretched farce this is!" she exclaimed— " this striving to appear happy before everyone when my heart is breaking—breaking ! Oh, I wißh I could go somewhere right away from everyone I know —somewhere where there was nothing to call to mind my miserable, unhappy love for Roy ! If it were not for papa and mamma, I would go away somewhere and earn my living. I should then have something else besides wedding things to occupy my mind. Wedding ! Ugh !it makeß me shudder. I wish I had not accepted Donald. I did it in my foolish pride, because I did not want Roy to know how much I loved him, and now I can never, never draw back; I dare not, lam frightened of Donald. Oh Roy, Roy, was not the love of one woman (for I suppose she did love you, how could she help it?) enough without your winning my love ? Ah ! he must have been only flirting with me, for he know he could not marry me. Oh, dear! how my head throbs; I must lie down, I cannot stand. I Buppoße he is in England now." Next day the shopping began. Jessie i -went in and out the shops like one in a dream, until her mother exolaimed sharply, as they drove away from one warehouse, " What on earth are you dreaming of, child ? I never saw anyone, take less interest in anything. One would think it had nothing I to do with you. I declare I shall drive home and have nothing more to do with it today, if you do not rouse yourself." "I beg your pardon, mother dear, but you are such a good judge you do not require my help in the choice of the things.'.' " Well) but my dear, I like to have your choice in these matters. Now, what sort of lace would you like to have your wedding dress trimmed with ?" "Oh, what lace looks best with satin?" asked Jessie, trying 1 to. look interested. "Satin! What satin! Who said anything about satin ?" "I understood you*.to say what sort of lace would I like my wedding dress trimmed with, mamma." ~ •,-■ - " So I did ; .but you know perfectly well that we bought .the silk-? not the.satin." "Oh, yea, of course, I meant silk.'' This was too.. much for Mrs Lennox's already sorely-tried patience,. She gave up the shopping for that day, and turned homewards. Jessie leaned back in the carriage, and felt that she must rouse herself. " This will never do," she thought. "Mamma will think I am. going melancholy mad. I wish I could tell her everything; but that would be betraying Roy; and, besides, she likes Donald, and thinks I am fond of him, too."

Mr Lennox waß. very fond of music, and it was Jessie's custom, when they were alone, to play and sing to him for an hour or so after dinner, while he satin his arm-chair, listening, and sometimes joining in when | she sang any special favorite of his. This night she sat down as usual, and Mr Lennox I took np a bundle of music that was near, and presently said: " What is this like, Jessie, | this Bong • When Sparrows Build.' I have not heard it, have I ? Let me hear it when you have finished that piece." Jessie took it, but felt she could not sing it. It waß one of Roy's favorites. She laid it upon the piano, and went on with the piece she was playing, lengthening it out, hoping her father would forget about the song. But he did not, , and she was obliged to sing it. She kept j up bravely till she came to the words : Nay, I spoke once and I grieved thee sore— I reniembor all that I Baid; j And now thou wilt hear me no more, no more, Till the sea gives up her dead. ' Then her voice failed ; the piano seemed to float before her. She made a struggle to go on, but reeled, and fell back, fainting. i Mr Lennox, who was sitting near, saw her swaying, and just caught her in his arms in i time to save her from falling to the ground. When Donald came, a little later en, as was his custom, he found Mr Lennox alone in the drawing-ioom, Btanding in front of the lire, looking in a complete fog. "Jesßie fainted just now," he exclaimed; "can't ! mike it out. She was singing that song on the piano there, and Beemed quite well, when suddenly she reeled and fainted. By Jove ! Donald, my lad, it gave me ' quite a j tarn,' as the women say." "I hope she ib not going to be H," said Donald, looking ' concerned, but at the same time looking ! furtively at the words of the song on tho 'piano. "Ah," he [thought, grinding his i teeth, "still hankering after that fellow; ' can't sing a stupid sentimental song without I fainting. I Mrs Lennox did not reappear that evening, so Donald left early. I Next morning Jessie was far from well; towards afternoon she seemed feverish, so i Mrs Lennox thought she had better send for ' the family doctor, a kind, gentle old man ! who had known Jessie from a baby. Ho :' came in, smiling and rubbing his hands. I " Dear me, little lassie; this is a pretty bit jof business. We cin'fc have this, you know —just as the wedding is coming off, too; we must be bright and well. Let me feel the pulse. Umph ! little feverish—yes; must 'be kept quiet." And after a little chatting the little doctor went to the dining-room to j write out a prescription. " Is it serious, doctor ?" asked Mrs Lannox, "My dear madam, Jessie is far from well;

Bho is feverish and hysterical. The main thing for her is perfect quiet and rest. And this wedding must be postponed for a time. Excuse me, Mrs Lennox," sail the shrewd old doctor, '' but is Bhe happy ? I fear there is something on her mind.' "Happy ! Oh yes, I think so, she accepted Mr Both well of her ov n free will. lam sure there is nothing on her mind. Jessie always confided everything in me from a child." "Had she any previous attachment ?" "Oh no; lam tnre she had not. She would have told me."

"Humph!: Well, good afternoon, Mrs Lennox—perfect rest and quiet—marriage postponed—and this medicine twice a day.. Good afternoon, I will oall again to-morrow morning," "Ah," he thought, as he drove away, 1 " I'm afraid Mr Bothwell isn't the man to make her happy. I'll have a little conversation with her in the morning," When he called next morning he sat by her bedside, and contrived to get up a conversation about Glencairn. He noticed that as he mentioned the name she turned her head away with a jerk. "I fancy I met Lord Glencairn in England some time ago," he said, after having talked for a good while. " I think he went there to s e his son, who was at college in England." A burning flush overspread her face, which she tried to hide from view. All this was taken in by the old doctor, and he drew his own conclusions. "I thought as much," he Baid, as he went away. "I knew when she came back from Glencairn that all was not right with her ; she was not the same bonnie blithe little lass that went away; there was something wanting in her sonsie face." * * » * * Jessie slowly gained strength; she had been very ill; she had no partionlar complaint ; only in a low, weak, excitable state. Meanwhile, Donald was just at his wits' ends. "What on earth am I to do ?" he would ask himself. "I can't stay in the town more than a month longer, and that's certain," One day he thought to himself : "I wonder if Janet could get some money from the old Major for me," and bo in the evening he said to her: " By-the-bye, Janet, I wish you would do me a little favor. Will you ? Do you think you could get me a little money from the Major?" he said hesitatingly. "Donald, how can you be so mean? Have you lost all self-respect, or respect for me?" Janet exclaimed indignantly. "No, certainly not; how can you ask me to do such a thing? I wonder ycu are not ashamed to do so."

She knew nothing of the real state of bis affairs. Once or twice he had said he was in need of money, and on one occasion had borrowed half of her yearly allowance, which was the last she saw of it. But Bhe never dreamed that he was over head and ears in debt ? After a moment she said: '' How much do you want ?" His face brightened. "Oh, if you could get him to lend me a couple of hundreds!" " A couple of hnndreds !" Donald, are you mad? I had no idea of asking the Major, but thought I might be able to let you have it. But such a sum ! It is impossible. Have you been gambling ? I thought you gave that up ages ago. Oh, Donald, how can you behave so, just on the eve of your marriage too. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and I " " There, that will do Janet, spare me the unpleasantness of one of your lectures if you E lease. Keep them for the Major. Ihav'nt een gambling, so don't alarm yourself on that score, but I think you might do as I ask you for once." " I shall do nothing of the sort, Donald. I would not lower myself by asking the Major for a loan of money. I will give you what I have, some LSO, I think, and I can very ill afford it. I have been saving it for my wedding expenses, for I know I need expect nothing from you, I think it is very hard that a sister should save money, only to be expended in paying her brother's unnecessary expenses, or rather debts; however, I will let you have it, and say no more about it. My trousseau will be lesß, that's all; but remember, I cannot help you again. I shall have to deny myself many things to make up this money. Now Donald," she continued, "do turn over a new leaf. I thought you had done so, but was evidently mistaken. You must have been living beyond your means to have contracted this fresh debt. Surely the interest of your money, besides the rents, ought to keep you without having to borrow money.'! "It lßn't a. de\>£, Janet. The tact io I backed a bill for a young fellow, thinking it was all right; but it has turned out all wrong." " Well, it's your own fault, and you. must just make up the rest out of your quarterly rents, for I can't help you any more. I will let you have what i have to-morrow." " Thank you, Janet. I'll try and make it up to you again." " Oh, you may spare yourself the trouble of,making promises, which you know will never be kept, Donald. I fancy I have hj eard something of that sort before from you," and she feft the room.

"It really is very good of her," he muttered ; "but what is fifty pounds—a mere drop in the ocean. I might as well have nothing. I think I'll go to the Major myself; he won't tell her anything about it. So accordingly he went next morning. "I don't like to ask you, Major," he said.; " but lam rather.shori of money jußt now. There.has been some bother about some, rente'; but if you could let me have a couple of hundreds, I'll pay you back in two or three months. I backed a bill for a young fellow, and he ha? gone wrong," " I think I can let you have it; but take my advice, and don't back bills for anyone. It's a bad spec" '■' Thanks; I will take your advice."

.."He wasn't a bad old sort; but.l was frightened he would ask me who the fellow was, and I should have been in a nice fix," he thought, as he walked down the street putting the cheque into his pocket-book. "Goodness knows when he'll-get it baok again; I don't. But he won't ask me for.it when he marries Janet, perhaps; and, besides, he is well enough off, he doesn't want it. At all events it will keep me afloat till I'm married, I hope." Meanwhile Roy was gaining back his strength and health in England. One bright sunny day in May he and Alan had been walking along the Sussex Downs near Beaohy Head, and were now stretched full length on the grass looking out over the Channel.

" What a jolly place this is," said Alan. *'l wouldn't mind living here when I'm married."

" Oh, you, as the son and heir, will have to make Glencairn your headquarters." " Yes, so you can live here instead when you marry." " Marry I Bah !" said Roy, with so much emphasis that Alan sat up, and stared in surprise. "Well, I suppose you will marry some

day." "I suppose I shan't do anything of the sort." "Well, don't get excited, old man, it isn't good for yon. I say, Roy, I once thought you were fond of Jessie Lennox ?" "Did you? Well so I was." " Well, I thought she was fond of you, too." "So did I, but she wasnt, answered Roy, in his curtest tone, and at the same time turning over on his back and tilting his hat over his handsome grey eyes. " How do you know she wasn't ?" " Because I asked her." "By Jove ! You never said so before." " Didn't want all the world to know that I'd made a fool of myself." "Look here, Roy. I believe she did like you," "What's the good of belioving? I tell you she didn't. She said she was only flirting. Candid, wasn't she ?" "Now, don't get nasty, old man. Never mind; there are plenty of girls in tho world as nice as Jessie Lennox," "I've done with girls," grunted Roy. '' l say, Alan, don't let us touch on this subject again; I can't stand it," and the poor fellow turned over on his face with something very like a tear in his eye. ('Tohe continued.)