osition in life.
But to seek to influence her choice,--that was quite another matter. No
one but Allison herself could take the responsibility of deciding what
her future was to be. None knew better than Mrs Esselmont, how little,
wealth and the esteem of the world had to do with peace of mind or
enduring happiness. She therefore answered Mr Rainy's letter without
committing herself. But she told him, that a journey to Aberdeen which
she was intending to make, should be hastened, in order that she might
the sooner see Allison.

As for the minister, he did with Mr Rainy's letter, what he was in the
way of doing with all important matters on which he was called to
decide. He considered it well for a night and a day, and then he laid
it before his wife. She did not wait long to consider it. She said as
she laid it down:

"John Beaton!"

"Well," said the minister, "what of him?"

"He would never wish it. At least I hope he would never wish it."

"And has that anything to do with her refusal, think you?"

Mrs Hume was silent a moment. Then she said:

"No. I do not think so. I am sure it has not. There is no use
searching for reasons as far as Allison is concerned. She simply cannot
do the thing they are wishing her to do. It is not a matter for reason
with her, but a matter of feeling. And I quite understand it, though I
could not hope to make this clear to Mr Rainy, perhaps not even to
you."

There was more said about John Beaton and his hopes and wishes, but the
advice which was to be given to Allison was not to be influenced by any
thought of him, or what he might desire. What would be best for Allison
herself?

Knowing her well, the minister could not but believe that she would be
"a faithful and wise steward" of whatever was committed to her hand.
And he could not but have a thought also, as to the direction which her
liberality might take under judicious guidance. But for Allison
herself, was the possession of so much money desirable? Would she be a
happier woman because she lived in a fine house, and had fine folk about
her? And would these fine folk ever fully accept her as one of
themselves, and give her what was her due,--not as a rich woman, but as
a good woman,--one possessing rare qualities of heart and mind, one in
herself worthy of high regard and honour? All this was, in Mr Hume's
opinion, more than doubtful.

There was this to be said. A measure of happiness cannot but be th