oice broke
with the remembrance of the parting with his father.

"And why are you going, Ranald?" she said, looking into his eyes.

Again the boy stood silent.

"Why do you go away from your home and your father, and--and--all of us
who love you?"

"Indeed, there is no one," he replied, bitterly; "and I am not for
decent people. I am not for decent people. I know that well enough.
There is no one that will care much."

"No one, Ranald?" she asked, sadly. "I thought--" she paused, looking
steadily into his face.

Suddenly the boy turned to her, and putting out both his hands, burst
forth, his voice coming in dry sobs: "Oh, yes, yes! I do believe you.
I do believe you. And that is why I came this way. I wanted to see your
door again before I went. Oh, I will never forget you! Never, never, and
I am glad I am seeing you, for now you will know--how much--" The boy
was unable to proceed. His sobs were shaking his whole frame, and to his
shy Highland Scotch nature, words of love and admiration were not easy.
"You will not be sending me back home again?" he pleaded, anticipating
her. "Indeed, I cannot stay in this place after to-day."

But the minister's wife kept her eyes steadily upon his face without a
word, trying in vain to find her voice, and the right words to say. She
had no need of words, for in her face, pale, wet with her flowing tears,
and illumined with her gray-brown eyes, Ranald read her heart.

"Oh!" he cried again, "you are wanting me to stay, and I will be ashamed
before them all, and the minister, too. I cannot stay. I cannot stay."

"And I cannot let you go, Ranald, my boy," she said, commanding her
voice to speech. "I want you to be a brave man. I don't want you to be
afraid of them."

"Afraid of them!" said the boy, in scornful surprise. "Not if they were
twice as more and twice as beeg."

Mrs. Murray saw her advantage, and followed it up.

"And the minister did not know the whole truth, Ranald, and he was sorry
he spoke to you as he did."

"Did he say that?" said Ranald, in surprise. It was to him, as to any
one in that community, a terrible thing to fall under the displeasure of
the minister and to be disgraced in his eyes.

"Yes, indeed, Ranald, and he would be sorry if you should go away. I am
sure he would blame himself."

This was quite a new idea to the boy. That the minister should think
himself to be in the wrong was hardly credible.

"And how glad we would be," she continued,