r. Carmichael, you have much Cause for Thankfulness"

Carmichael sang a Solo

"Here iss your Silver Piece"

"I should call it a Deliberate--"

"She had an Unfortunate Tendency to meddle with my Books"

Mother Church cast her Spell over his Imagination

"Ye'll be hanging Dr. Chalmers there"

A Tall, Bony, Forbidding Woman

Gathering her Berry Harvest

He was a Mere Wisp of a Man

"Will you let me walk with you for a Little?"

"Private Capaucity"

Standing with a Half-Dried Dish in her Hand

The Old Man escorted her Ladyship

Would gossip with him by the Hour

The Driver stops to exchange Views

Two Tramps held Conference

Wrestling in Darkness of Soul

His Attitude for Exposition

"Ay, he's in, but ye canna see him"

"To put Flowers on his Grave"

"You have been awfully Good to me"

"He sat down by the River-side to meditate"

KATE CARNEGIE.

CHAPTER I.

PANDEMONIUM.

It was the morning before the Twelfth, years ago, and nothing like unto
Muirtown Station could have been found in all the travelling world.
For Muirtown, as everybody knows, is the centre which receives the
southern immigrants in autumn, and distributes them, with all their
belongings of servants, horses, dogs, and luggage, over the north
country from Athole to Sutherland. All night, express trains, whose
ordinary formation had been reinforced by horse boxes, carriage trucks,
saloons and luggage vans, drawn by two engines, and pushed up inclines
by a third, had been careering along the three iron trunk roads that
run from London to the North. Four hours ago they had forced the
border, that used to be more jealously guarded, and had begun to
converge on their terminus. Passengers, awakened by the caller air and
looking out still half asleep, miss the undisciplined hedgerows and
many-shaped patches of pasture, the warm brick homesteads and shaded
ponds of the south. Square fields cultivated up to a foot of the stone
dykes or wire-fencing, the strong grey-stone farm-houses, the
swift-running burns, and the never-distant hills, brace the mind.
Local passengers come in with deliberation, whose austere faces condemn
the luxurious disorder of night travel, and challenge the defence of
Arminian doctrine. A voice shouts "Carstairs Junction," with a command
of the letter _r_, which is the bequest of an unconquerable past, and
inspires one with the hope o