r shelter?
There were few chances that she would find another home like the manse.
No, he would utter not another word to startle her, or to try to win her
secret.

"But there is John Beaton to be considered. I would fain hae a word wi'
John. He's a lad that maybe thinks ower-weel o' himself, and carries
his head ower-high. But the root o' the matter's in him. Yes, I hae
little doubt o' that. And if I'm nae sair mista'en there's a rough
bittie o' road before him. But he is in gude hands, and he'll win
through. I'll speak to him, and I'll tak' him at unawares. I'll ken by
the first look o' his face whether his heart is set on her or no."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

"Love will venture in where it daurna weel be seen."

But John had been taken by surprise before Crombie's turn came to speak.
Some one else had spoken.

It was Saturday night. The work of the week was over Marjorie was safe
asleep, and restless with the thoughts which always came with leisure,
Allison threw a shawl over her head and went out into the lane. It was
dark there, where the hedge was high, and the branches hung low from the
trees in the manse garden; but beyond the lane, the fields and the
faraway hills lay clear in the moonlight. With lingering steps she
turned toward the green, along the path which skirted the cottage
gardens. When she came to the last of them she heard her name called
softly.

It was John Beaton's voice. She could not see him where he stood, but
he saw her clearly. He saw on her face, as she drew near, the shadow
which told of the old sadness and gloom; and he saw it pass, like the
mist before the sunshine, as she stood still to listen. In a moment he
had leaped the dike, and stood by her side.

"Allison!" said he eagerly, as he took her hand.

John was young, and he had had but small experience of woman and her
ways, or he never would have mistaken the look on Allison's face for the
look of love which he longed to see. He never would have clasped and
kissed her without a word.

In the extremity of her surprise and dismay, Allison lay for a moment in
his embrace. Then she struggled to get free.

"Allison, forgive me--because I love you. Allison, say that you will be
my wife."

A low cry of anguish came from her white lips.

"Oh! may God pity me. I have been sorely wrong, or this would not have
come to be my punishment."

She drew herself away from him, but she made no movement to leave him.
John