ess o' Athole."

Carmichael ought perhaps to have taken his beating like a man, and said
nothing to any one, but instead thereof he betook himself for
consolation to Marget, a better counsellor in a crisis than Janet, with
all her Celtic wiles, and Marget set him in the very seat where Kate
had put her case.

"It has, I suppose, been all a dream, and now I have awaked, but it
was . . . a pleasant dream, and one finds the morning light a little
chill. One must just learn to forget, and be as if one had never . . .
dreamed," but Carmichael looked at Marget wistfully.

"Ye canna be the same again, for a' coont, gin ony man loves a wumman
wi' a leal hert, whether she answer or no, or whether she even kens, he
's been the gainer, an' the harvest will be his for ever.

"It hes seemed to me that nae luve is proved an' crooned for eternity
onless the man hes forgotten himsel' an' is willin' tae live alane gin
the wumman he luves sees prosperity. He only is the perfect lover, and
for him God hes the best gifts.

"Yes, a 've seen it wi' ma ain eyes,"--for indeed this seemed to
Carmichael an impossible height of self-abnegation,--"a man who loved
an' served a wumman wi' his best an' at a great cost, an' yet for whom
there cud be no reward but his ain luve." Marget's face grew so
beautiful as she told of the constancy of this unknown, unrewarded
lover that Carmichael left without further speech, but with a purer
vision of love than had ever before visited his soul. Marget watched
him go down the same path by which Kate went, and she said to herself,
"Whether or no he win is in the will of God, but already luve hes given
his blessin' tae man and maid."

Kate did not go to kirk on Sunday, but lived all day in the woods, and
in the evening she kissed her father and laid this answer in his
hands:--

DEAR LORD HAY,--You have done me the greatest honour any woman can
receive at your hands, and for two days I have thought of nothing else.
If it were enough that your wife should like and respect you, then I
would at once accept you as my betrothed, but as it is plain to me that
no woman ought to marry any one unless she also loves him, I am obliged
to refuse one of the truest men I have ever met, for whom I have a very
kindly place in my heart, and whose happiness I shall always
desire.--Believe me, yours sincerely,

KATE CARNEGIE.

"You could do nothing else, Kit, and you have done right to close the
matter . . . but I