avelled in India, and has lived in the most exciting
circumstances. She loves soldiers, war, gaiety, sport, besides many
other . . . eh, good things, and is a . . . lovely girl. Love laughs
at rules, but if you ask me my candid opinion, the marriage would not
be . . . in fact, congruous. If it is to be, it must be, and God bless
them both, say I, and so will everybody say; but it will be an
experiment, a distinct and . . . interesting experiment."

"Kate is not to marry any one for my sake, to save Tochty, but I do
wish she had fancied Lord Hay," said the General, ruefully.

"The Free Kirk folk in the depths of their hearts consider me a worldly
old clergyman, and perhaps I am, for, Jack, I would dearly like to see
our Kate Viscountess Hay, and to think that one day, when we three old
fellows are gone, she would be Countess of Kilspindie." That was the
first conference of the day on Kate's love affairs, and this is how it
ended.

Meanwhile the young woman herself had gone up the road to the high Glen
and made her way over dykes and through fields to Whinny Knowe, which
she had often visited since the August Sacrament. Whinny came out from
the kitchen door in corduroy trousers, much stained with soil, and grey
shirt--wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after a hearty
dinner--and went to the barn for his midday sleep before he went again
to the sowing. Marget met her at the garden gate, dressed in her
week-day clothes and fresh from a morning's churning, but ever refined
and spiritual, as one whose soul is shining through the veil of common
circumstances.

"It's a benison tae see ye on this bricht day, Miss Carnegie, an' ye
'll come tae the garden-seat, for the spring flooers are bloomin'
bonnie and sweet the noo, an' fillin' 's a' wi' hope.

"Gin there be ony sun shinin'," as she spread a plaid, "the heat fa's
here, an' save when the snow is heavy on the Glen, there 's aye some
blossoms here tae mind us o' oor Father's love an' the world that isna
seen."

"Marget," began Kate, not with a blush, but rather a richening of
colour, "you have been awfully good to me, and have helped me in lots
of ways, far more than you could dream of. Do you know you 've made me
almost good at times, with just enough badness to keep me still myself,
as when I flounced out from the Free Kirk."

[Illustration: "You have been awfully good to me."]

Marget only smiled deprecation and affection, for her heart went out to
t