Robin challenged him to say truly, whether, after all, he was quite
contented with his life in the new world, and whether he had not had
times of being homesick, repentant, miserable?

No, John had never repented. He had succeeded in every way, far better
than he had had any reason to expect or hope. Miserable? No. No one
need be miserable anywhere, who had enough to do, and a measure of
success in doing it.

"As to homesickness--it depends on what you call homesickness. My heart
was ay turning homewards, but not with any thought that I had been wrong
or foolish to leave Scotland. No, I am not sorry I went to America when
I did."

And then, turning to Allison he added:

"And yet I had no intention of staying there when I went. If it hadna
been the thought of finding Willie, I would never have turned my face to
Barstow. Indeed, I think your Willie and his trust in me, and perhaps
also my care for him, has had more to do with my contentment, yes, and
with my success, than all else together."

"I am glad," said Allison, and her impulse was to put out her hand
again. But she did not. She only said:

"How long do you think of staying in Scotland?"

"Only as long as my mother needs to make ready for the journey."

"And when you go will you pass this way? I should like well to see your
mother, and say good-bye before she goes away."

"You must go borne for a while to the manse, Allie. That is what you
must do," said Robert.

"No," said Allison, "I would like a quiet day with her here far better."

"And you shall have it," said John heartily. "That will be far better
than to be there in the confusion of leaving."

Then John rose, saying it was time to go, and Robert, who was to see him
a few miles on his journey, remembered that there was still something to
be done, and hurried away.

He might as well have stayed where he was, for the parting between these
two was as undemonstrative as their meeting had been. But when the
young men had gone a few steps down the pavement, John turned back again
to the door where Allison was still standing.

"Allie," said he, "say a kind word to me before I go. Tell me you have
forgiven the presumption of that night."

"I have had none but kind thoughts of you since then, John," said she,
giving him her hand.

He stooped and kissed it.

"I am not going to ask anything from you just now, because--But I must
tell you--that I love you dearly,--so dearly, that I c