words unconsciously
uttered--by turns angry, entreating, despairing. Foolish words they
often were, but they brought tears to Robin's "unaccustomed eyes," and
they turned his thoughts where, indeed, all true and deep feeling turned
them, toward his mother.

Not that he had the slightest intention of betraying his friend's
weakness to her. How it came about he did not know--it had already
happened more than once in his experience--before he was aware the words
were uttered.

They were going together, by special invitation from Delvie, to see the
tulips in the Firhill garden. They went slowly and rested on the way,
not that they were tired, but because the day was warm and the air
sweet, and the whole land rejoicing in the joy of the coming summer; and
as they sat in the pleasant gloom which the young firs made, looking out
on the shadows of the clouds on the fields beyond, it came into Robin's
mind that there could be no better time than this to tell his mother
some things which "by rights" ought never to have happened, but which,
since they had happened, his mother ought to know. They should never
happen again, he said to himself, and he swore it in his heart, when he
saw her kind eyes sadden and her dear face grow grave as he went on.

Then when she had "said her say," and all was clear between them again,
he began to speak about John Beaton; and before he was aware, he was
telling her what he knew, and what he guessed of the trouble through
which his friend was passing; then he hung his head.

"I never meant to speak about it," said he. "It is only to your mother,
Robin. And I have had my own thoughts, too. Oh! yes, many of them. I
am sorry for John, but he needed the discipline, or it would not have
been sent, and he'll be all the wiser for the lesson."

But there was no comfort in that for Robin. "It is like betraying him,
mother," said he. And when it was one night made known in the house
that his father was going to Aberdeen, and that his chief reason for
going was to see how it was with John Beaton, Robin's eyes sought those
of his mother in doubtful appeal. His mother only smiled. "Cannot you
trust your father, Robin?" said she. "I canna trust myself, it seems,"
said Robin. "There's no harm done yet, my lad. You need not fear that
ill will come from speaking your secret thoughts to your mother."

"But other folk's secret thoughts?" said Robin.

No ill came of it this time. Of course Mrs H