away her cares, and she grew curious from days in the sun and in the fields in the villages they passed through, and in her eyes, made familiar with and, while she talked but little, smiled at the small jokes which, as well as the wittiest, whiled away the road for the travellers. For Margrédel could not become heavy-hearted all at once, any more than the crafty look could have come in a day into the eyes of the professor, who was awaiting her in front of the National Inn. Yet that day that look was very strong in his eyes; it is strange how, of a sudden, you notice fingers grown crooked with constant handling of guineas, or cheeks pinched by long company with poverty.

Of course Margrédel was too delighted to see him to notice this look, which was patent to others. As soon as the coach jolted over the rough causeway, she was conscious of a feeling of new happiness at the thought of being home again. The sight of her uncle relieved her mind of its little fears; and whereas hitherto she had always thought of him and of herself as exiles in this grey street, her heart now went out to the ragamuffins who surrounded the coach, and to the shopkeepers in their doorways, as to friends and neighbors. That showed how deep had been the experience of the past twenty-four hours, for she could never have felt so towards Kirkcaldy and Kirkcaldy folks had not the dip into the world outside been so disastrous.

When he had helped her to alight, he kissed her, and the onlookers shrugged their shoulders. They were unaccustomed to kiss on the street or to shake hands even, except one should so salute another in the market for sport or mockery. Then she noticed his paleness; and he said, still holding her in his arms and looking into her face, as if they had been alone in the house (only then he might have said it in French), –

their ruddiness, her uncle looked no paler than the shopkeepers, although they were in their white aprons, and were out in the street, sun or no sun, all day long, and would have left their counters to mark the arrival of a packman. These pale-faced gentlemen, being in their aprons, touched their forelock to their children's teacher, as became tradesmen, and said, by and by, that the professor's wench was handsome; while the women told one another that she had returned from Eden Braes, and that they "couldn't fathom her ever having been there, no more they could," which was true. If it had been possible they should have fathomed it long ago, for this was not the first time, by many hundreds, that they had discussed the intimacy between the Oliphants and Margrédel.

"I haven't been well," the professor said; "but there's worse than that. Another week would have meant ruin, as you'll see."

He laughed at her wonderment, and, letting her into the house, led her straight to where a little heap of broken crockery lay in the kitchen. He did not tell her that in a whirl of passion he had dashed to the ground the table and all that was on it, and that to the coarseness of the household's ware only did he owe it that he had been able to pick up much that was unbroken. But he blamed it all upon his clumsy hands, and said, "I told you it meant ruin; I am no housekeeper," as if he had broken one morning a cup, another morning a plate, piece by piece, during the time she was away. Margrédel, the blood rushing to her face with the thought of her uncle among the dishes each day (it would not have troubled her had she not seen how, in Eden Braes, the men did nothing in the house), cried out,

"Oh, uncle! did I not say how it "And you're as brown as a berry, would be if I went away? I wish I Margrédel." had not gone. You have had no comfort with me from home."

Quite relieved, she walked to the house on his arm. She had been living where all men's skins were brown

Yet she could not but laugh at the comical face he made, like a naughty

boy, as if he were winking to himself and not looking slyer than usual.

Now that his eyes were directed to it, the professor thought that the town had an appearance of quiet and peace, with the smoke hanging lazily above it; so there he took Margrédel.

"But I have been ill," he replied. "I should not have been, had I stuck to my own plain fare; but I dined with Mr. Oliphant often, and drank his wine." He did not allow his voice to falter word, like Margrédel's recital of Opheas he spoke of this.

Margrédel said, "Then you would have been very ill if you had been with me;" whereupon his eye became brighter again, and he had a thousand questions to ask about Eden Braes, and the doings there, and especially concerning Douglas.

To understand aright what it cost Robert Malbert to listen to Margrédel's talk about Dug Oliphant, or how bitter for him was the kindness of her mention of him, we must think what he had suffered. As he had told Wull, it was his sister Margrédel's memory that had cheered him throughout the wars and in his imprisonment. When he returned to his home at length, it was to find it desolate. His sister had gone as a nurse to the neighboring garrison town. But she was dead-dead of shame and of a broken heart-and had left behind her this child, whom the neighbors kept and called Margrédel. That, with the story of a handsome Englishman, was all; the villagers had had more to think of building up their broken walls, and recalling the memories of their own dead — than his name or his route.

We know the rest; how, as the even years passed, now and then a chance

lia's wrong, would rouse the slumbering fury in him; how the child came to be able to set it asleep again. All the time, he was hiding their story from the neighbors, then from Margrédel herself. This habit made him crafty, and passion lived long, being covered like a gathered fire, till at length at the discovery of the carving in Margrédel's absence the volcano wakened and burned lurid.

It was Douglas, of whose sailing and story in France Wull had spoken often, that the professor straightway marked as his enemy. He was not conscious of arguing how it must have been Douglas. It came like an inspiration with the discovery of his sister's name in the old mansion-house. Burning in his brain was the figure of the dark horseman whom Margrédel had pointed out from the windows as Jean's father; and he longed to confront him in Eden Braes, in his home, and When the spasm was past, the professor's palms were red, with nail-marks in them. He thought of Margrédel, and a calm followed the tempest, until the low moaning of it began again with thoughts of how she should have her In a torrent of shame Robert Malbert rights, and of Eden Braes, and of the had crossed the sea with the little Mar- mistress of Eden Braes. Why was she grédel. In the land of his exile, some- there, while his pretty Margrédel slept where, he would find means of living at the back of the village forever? away from hateful memories. The And the other Margrédel ought to be in sun, as he sailed up the Firth of Forth, Jean's shoes, and should be, by the lay on the roofs of Kirkcaldy, and the holy Mary, let him once set fingers on town looked like a gold band round the this Douglas. His impulse was to ride bay, set with jewels where the wind-out at once to Eden Braes. No! Marmills struck sparks out of the sunlight. grédel was there; and the fury died Leaning over the bulwarks at his side down, and doubt followed -the doubt was an old skipper, who without turn- if he might not be wrong, if there was ing his eyes pointed a finger in the proof of Douglas's wickedness. Any direction of the town. one might know his niece as Margrédel Malbert and carve her name. God! She was as much Margrédel Malbert as any other name he knew of- Margré

"That's my toon," he said, "an' I'm gaun back to't a hantle sicht puirer than I left it."

del Malbert as soon as this pitiful Mar- | ships that required fitting up anew; grédel English, which name he had and when he returned he was much given her before the neighbors in his occupied in public, for reform was early madness, and for his story's sake, greatly talked of, and the town was in a must stick to. But - Margrédel Oli- ferment of political feeling. phant! He fanned his fury by repeating the name again and again, and swore, looking on the stars from the black, back windows, that he would prove this discovery.

Round and round in this circle had the professor's feelings worked during the next day and night. The near approach of Margrédel's return found Craft at Passion's throat, keeping the upper hand, although it struggled hard, and got on its feet again, almost, when Margrédel spoke kind words in its ears of the family at Eden Braes.

And oftentimes as she lay abed, thinking of Jean, or of her uncle's new love for the town's company, the professor was lying longing to be in the old house, and to press his hands and feed his eyes upon the carved letters in the dining-room.

CHAPTER XV.

"HULLO, Margrédel!"

It was in the last days of February, while Margrédel was walking homewards, under Mrs. Birrell's confectionshop, opposite the narrow Kirk Wynd, So the fight lasted through the win- with its two stone sentries on which ter into the lengthening days, when the beggars sat, that Margrédel heard men ceased to speak of the summer her name called aloud. Looking round, that was past, and thought of that she scarce recognized young Willy Oliwhich was to come. It was a poor fight to write about, but stern if you had seen how the knapsack sank deeper between the professor's shoulders, and how each morning found fresh grey hairs in his head.

phant of Eden Braes in the tall youth who, with a smile on his face, was leading his horse towards her. He had grown away from the schoolboy in these last months, and was a handsome young man, much like his Uncle Wull in the matter of looks and yellow hair, but perhaps firmer about the mouth, and with a dash of his mother's fire in his eyes. He wore not a little of a "milord" air, as became an Oliphant on Kirkcaldy streets. Moreover, he looked well in his buckskins and new boots, and it was perhaps because of them that he dismounted daintily, not at all after the manner in which he was used to fling himself from the

Still he learned nothing. He drank with the sailors on the quay, and with the old topers in the inns, and, drunk or sober, could worm nothing from them concerning Douglas, except the stories of old dissolute doings about the town. One hope remained. As soon as summer was round he would go to France. He could not go sooner, for he must keep his pupils, for Margrédel's future. He said to himself that it was all for Margrédel's future, and brown pony. feigned belief that revenge was not When he held out his hand to Martugging at his heart's strings. So Pas-grédel, and she pleased him with the sion took a new tack, and flattered Craft to get the better of it.

surprise in her eyes at the change in him, you had thought every door and During this time Margrédel had one window and close-mouth within fifty or two letters from Jean, who said yards held a curious face-even as, nothing of Frank Hill. Margrédel, when Thrift crumbled the stale bread having been brought up out of the on the kitchen-sill, birds came flitting world, wondered if she could have to the tree-boughs in great flights and written so if her lover had proved sat there chattering like women at a false. Nor, beyond what Jean wrote, well, so that you wondered that the did she hear much of Eden Braes. gardens could have hidden them a That winter Wull Oliphant was away minute before. To judge from the in London, where he had bought some faces at the windows, they had much

to say on what they saw; only, from | uncle's door, he could see the crown the street you could not hear what was of Margrédel's bonnet under his eyes. spoken which was a pity. He could not have done that in the autumn.

Beneath the very fine and gallant exterior of the boy now chatting to Margrédel's first flush of pleasure at Margrédel was the veriest hobbledehoy meeting Willy past (for the genuine on this side the Firth. No sooner did laddie that he was delighted her like his eyes light upon the confection-win-spring sunshine), her thoughts went dow, up to which they had often looked wistfully when his uncle's house was a holiday resort, than he must needs sport his new manhood.

"Granny Birrell's, by the Lord Harry!" he said. "You like sugarrock, Margrédel ?"

Margrédel did; and a rather hectoring "Hullo there!" (because of the little boys that were open-mouthed on the causeway) brought from behind her counter, and down the one or two steps, the white-capped, white-haired old priestess of Willy's early temple. Such was the cheapness of the succulent luxury, and the lavishness of our young squire, that I declare he cleared the window-stock, so that so much afternoon sunshine never found its way through the sweetie-shop panes before or since.

back to Eden Braes; and there were many things concerning Jean which she would have liked to know, yet did not care to ask about. Great was her surprise, therefore, when Willy, looking curiously at her, said, —

"What ails her?"
Willy shook his head.

6

When the old body returned with I know not how many sticks, he waved "Grown pale and soft," he said. his hand, with a "For the lady," as if "Taken to sitting in the house, and his teeth had never watered where he that's not like her. It used to be, stood. when I was at school, Willy, I'm dyBut Margrédel laughed outright, and ing for a gallop; or, Come along for protested. a walk to Cage-whins and see the foxes.' Now that I'm about the place all day long, she'll not stir a foot unless. she's asked. Even then she's not a mile from home when she turns Vic's. head. You see how fat he's getting." He was riding Vic to-day. "I can't make it out with Jean. It's just since

"Hadn't you better ask Rab Hetherwick to call for these?" she said, with gentle irony.

"He'll be doon the morn," Granny said, seeing no farther than a possible loss of a large order.

"Take one. They are yours," Willy said largely. "I'll carry some for you, and," for this did not dispose of the whole purchase yet, and it would never do to recall a penny of what was spent on a lady miserliness is not original sin, "give the rest to the children, Mrs. Birrell."

He spoke as if childhood were for him a far-off reminiscence. So it was. Can anything be farther off than that which has gone forever? As he led his horse slowly eastwards to her

left with his regiment. She wondered at Jean's reticence. Now her heart was full of pity, but of no regret that she had opened Jean's eyes to Frank's baseness. She had been brought up out of the world, not knowing its way

of glossing evil.

"I know you mean no harm, Willy. But don't speak to Jean about about Captain Hill in that way. It hurts."

She had not crossed the threshold when her uncle was at her side. She looked down at him in surprise. He was trembling, and cried in a shaky

"It's stupid," Willy was saying, voice, "devilish stupid."

“What is ?” she asked sharply. "Sitting moping there like, like He could not explain how different his Jean ought to be from ordinary girls. "There's lots of as good men about the doors," he said, the uncombed masculinity coming out, now that the subject was broached.

"Who is that? Is that young Oliphant ?"

"Why, yes," she replied; "that's Willy."

He dared not speak the fear that held him.

"Do you know what they say in the town?" he said. "They say it's death to marry an Oliphant."

He noticed the smile on her face. It said that she had heard that story, and knew how the happy home in Eden Braes gave it the lie.

"There's none worse," said Margrédel, breathing hard. Hobbledehoys discountenance strong statements, saving their own most of all, those made by women. Willy had seen little of Frank Hill, and the little was not much to his taste. It was in what Rab would have called a spirit of "contermashishness" that he said, "Now, I always found him a good them. O, Margrédel, Margrédel, be

fellow."

"Who?" Margrédel turned upon him a face that checked him.

"I tell you they're cursed," he cried. "There's not a woman come near them but is scorched. There's not a woman had to do with them that's lived — and they live. Have nothing to do with

warned!

"Uncle," she cried, and took his hands, and in one of hers still was

"It's Frank Hill you were talking Willy's sugar-rock; and she was half of?" he said.

"I tell ye what it is," she said vehemently; "if you thought that, you wouldn't be your father's son. If I thought you thought it, I wouldn't speak to you another word."

ashamed, half amused at the idea that was in his mind. But he put his arms round her, and, although it was dark in the passage, looked away from her eyes.

66

Margrédel," ," he said, holding her It was clear to those at the windows firm, and for a second it seemed to that here was something for their her she was back in Jean's arms in the pains, and those farthest west flattened hall at Eden Braes, "Margrédel, their noses on the glass. From a win-your mother was such a girl as you are dow opposite, however, one pair of eyes — young and fair and happy." (They was looking out on them with more were trembling now, she with awe.) than curiosity. The poor professor" We were alone in the world then, as could bear it no longer, and, going we are now, Margrédel; and I loved to the door, called Margrédel by name. She would have beckoned him; but he cried, "Come here, Margrédel," and retreated into the lobby, where he stood watching them.

"Is that your uncle ?" said Willy. "Yes. I must say good-bye." Then, still with her hand in his, she continued, the professor's brow growing darker,

her as I love you, Margrédel. They balloted for the war, and I was taken. In my absence there came one-such a one as they say these Oliphants are, who break the hearts of women. He broke her heart. When I came back I found you."

He suffered with every breath he drew to tell that story. He felt the girl in his arms shrink with the shame,