?" was the next step in my examination
for discovery, as the lawyers say.

"No, he's no' deid, he's alive," replied the lad, with the exactitude
which marks his race; "but I dinna care to speak aboot him."

"Very well, very well, boy," I rejoined hastily; "spends his time and
his money and your mother's money, when he can get it, at the Red Cow,
or the Cock and Hens, a drunken wastrel and cruel too; for I have been
enough in Scotland to know that such hens lay deadly eggs and such red
cows' milk is red with blood." All this latter part, of course, I said
to myself, but no word of it to the lad before me, for no honest youth
can bear any lips to miscall his father save his own.

"You will come to the manse with us and stay the night; it is too late
to seek other lodging now."

"Thank ye kindly, sir, but I hae a wee pickle siller in my pocket," he
replied, with modest independence. I verily believe that in heaven all
Scotsmen (and even Scotch Freemasons) will be found wi' a wee pickle
siller in their pockets when they receive that great degree.

But I insisted, and I won; for he who wages the campaign of hospitality
hath God for his ally, and no heart can finally resist that siege.

IX

"_ANGELS UNAWARES_"

I presented him to my wife and to my host, whose cordiality was worthy
of his wealth and his success. Perhaps he was thinking of an hour like
unto this when, so many long years before, he too had reached New
Jedboro by night, friendless and poor, also craving work, beginning that
steady climb which had brought him to the dizzy heights of wealth and
influence.

For memories of poverty, like poor relations, should not be thrust out
at wealth's back gate, but should have a choice room in the mansion at
whose door the sated heart will often knock, seeking rest.

My wife has frequently told me that she liked Angus from the start
because he seemed so robed in health and draped in a kind of pathetic
modesty, with eyes whose colour she was certain would not fade. How
women do love the metaphors of millinery! How better than the sage of
Chelsea they understand the philosophy of clothes! But she also added
that she was charmed by the way he spoke his mother's name, for in his
tone she caught the flavour of a quick caress; and woman is more facile
far than man in her translation of these Hebraic breathings. Besides
all this, he held the gate open as she passed through into our manse
estate; she still remarks t