d unconsciousness of him and his feelings made it easier
for him to put her out of his thoughts. There were times when with a
sort of anger he longed to make her look at him, or speak to him, even
though her words might hurt him. He was angry with her, and with
himself, and with all the world; and there was truth in old Crombie's
accusation that he carried his head high and neglected his friends.

It was all that he could do sometimes to endure patiently the company of
Robert Hume or his brothers. Even Davie, who was not exacting in the
matter of response to his talk, missed something in his chief _friend_,
and had serious misgivings about it.

And Davie's mother had her own thoughts also, and she was not well
pleased with John. That "his time was come" she knew by many a token,
and she knew also, or guessed, the nature of the struggle that was going
on in him. She acknowledged that his prudence was praiseworthy, and
that it might not be the best wisdom for him to yield to impulse in a
matter so important; but she also told herself scornfully that if his
love were "true love," he would never have waited for prudence or for
ambition to put in a word, but would have gladly taken his chance
whatever might befall.

"Though indeed he might have cause to repent afterward," she
acknowledged with a sigh.

And since Allison was not thinking at all about him, little ill would be
done. The lad would get his discipline and go his way, and might never
know what a chance of happiness he had let slip out of his hands.

"For he could make her learn to love if he were to try," said Mrs Hume
to herself. "But he must not try unless--And if he should say or do
anything likely to bring watchful eyes or gossiping tongues upon
Allison, I shall have something to say to the lad myself."

Some one else was having her own thoughts about these two. Mistress
Jamieson had seen the lad when "his een first lichted on the lass," and
she had guessed what had happened to him. Now she waited and watched
with interest expecting more. She had not counted on the blindness or
long-continued indifference of Allison.

Was it indifference on her part? Or was it prudence, or a proper pride?
And the conclusion the mistress came to was this:

"She's no' heedin' him. Ay, ye're a braw lad, John Beaton, and a
clever; but it'll do ye nae ill to be neglecit for a wee while, or even
set at naucht. Ye thocht to tak' her captive wi' a smile and a few s