s not one. Nor the dear Rabbi's grave." Then there was
silence, which Carmichael found very trying--they had been so near that
day in Kilbogie Manse, with only the Rabbi, who loved them both,
between; but now, although they stood face to face, there was a gulf
dividing them.

"It may not be easy for me to visit Drumtochty often, for you know
there has been a change . . . in our circumstances, and one must suit
oneself to it."

Carmichael flushed uneasily, and Kate supposed that he was sympathising
with their losses.

"I hope to be a busy woman soon, with lots of work, and I shall use
every one of my little scraps of knowledge. How do you think I shall
acquit myself in my new role?"

It was a little hard on Carmichael, who was thinking of a countess,
while Kate meant a governess.

"You need not ask me how I think you will do as . . . in any position,
and I . . . wish you every success, and . . . (with a visible effort)
happiness."

He spoke so stiffly that Kate sought about for reasons, and could only
remember their quarrel and imagine he retained a grudge--which she
thought was rather ungenerous.

"It occurs to me that one man ought to be thankful when we depart, for
then he will be able to call Queen Mary names every Sunday without a
misguided Jacobite girl dropping in to create a disturbance."

"Drumtochty will have to form its own opinion of poor Mary without my
aid," and Carmichael smiled sadly in pardon of the past, "for it is
likely, although no one knows this in the Glen, that I shall soon be
far away."

"Leaving Drumtochty? What will Marjorie do without you, and Dr.
Davidson, and . . . all the people?" Then, remembering Janet's gossip,
and her voice freezing, "I suppose you have got a better or more
convenient living. The Glen is certainly rather inaccessible."

"Have I done anything, Miss Carnegie, to justify you in thinking that I
would leave the Glen, which has been so good to me, for . . . worldly
reasons? There is enough to support an unmarried man, and I am not
likely to . . . to marry," said Carmichael, bitterly; "but there are
times when it is better for a man to change his whole surroundings and
make a new life."

It was clear that the Bailie's daughter was a romance of Janet's Celtic
imagination, and Kate's manner softened.

"The Rabbi's death and . . . your difference of opinion--something
about doctrine, was n't it? we were from home--must have been a great
trial, and, as ther