else then, and besides--"

"Well, besides?" said John after a pause.

"It was you that Elsie liked best, Willie thought--and that her father
liked best, as well--"

"Did the foolish fellow tell you that?"

"He said that Elsie was ay friendly with you, and that she had hardly a
word or a look for him, and he was afraid that it might break friendship
between you if he stayed on, and he said he was going away."

"And he did go, the foolish lad. Friendly! Yes, Elsie and I were
friendly, but it was Willie who had her heart. But his going away did
no harm in the end."

Allison sighed.

"It was ay Willie's way to yield to impulse, and ill came of it whiles."

"It is his way still--whiles. But it is _good_ that mostly comes of it
now. And in Elsie's hands, a thread will guide him. You will love
Elsie dearly, Allison."

"I love her dearly already."

They had reached the manse by this time, and as they lingered a moment
in the close, John said:

"And were you pleased with all the bonny things that Mrs Esselmont has
been speaking to me about?"

Allison started, and laid her hand on his arm.

"Are you pleased, John? I was afraid--"

"Yes, I am pleased. She is very kind."

John kept her hand in his, and led her on till they came to the
garden-gate.

"Now tell me of what you are afraid, Allie," said he.

"Oh! not afraid. But I was glad to come to you with little, because I
knew you would be glad to give me all. And I thought that--perhaps--
you--But Mrs Esselmont is very kind."

"My dear, I would be ill to please indeed, if I were not both pleased
and proud to hear the words which Mrs Esselmont said of you to-night.
Yes, she is more than kind, and she has a right to give you what she
pleases, because she loves you dearly."

Allison gave a sigh of pleasure.

"Oh! it was not that I was afraid. But I was, for so long a time,
troubled and anxious,--that--whiles I think I am not just like other
women--and that you might--"

John uttered a little note of triumph.

"Like other women? You are very little like the most of them, I should
say."

"It is not of you--it is of myself I am afraid. You think too well of
me, John. I am not so good and wise as you believe, but I love you,
John."

That ought to have been enough, and there were only a few words more,
and this was one of them:

"Allie," said John gravely, "I doubt that I am neither so wise nor so
good as you think me to be. You will need t