perhaps, have expected him to yield, as gracefully as an
old man can. He wanted to yield. He hungered to yield. He knew that it
was utterly for his own good to yield. But if you seriously expected
him to yield, your knowledge of human nature lacks depth. Something far
stronger than argument, something far stronger than desire for his own
happiness, prevented him from yielding. Pride, a silly self-conceit, the
greatest enemy of the human race, forbade him to yield. For, on the
previous night, Helen had snubbed him--and not for the first time. He
could not accept the snub with meekness, though it would have paid him
handsomely to do so, though as a Christian and a philosopher he ought to
have done so. He could not.

So he put on a brave face, pretended to accept the situation with
contented calm, and talked as if Canada was the next street, and as if
her going was entirely indifferent to him. Helen imitated him.

It was a lovely morning; not a cloud in the sky--only in their hearts.

"Uncle!" she said after breakfast was done and cleared away.

He was counting rents in his cashbox in the front parlour, and she had
come to him, and was leaning over his shoulder.

"Well, lass?"

"Have you got twenty-five pounds in that box?"

It was obvious that he had.

"I shouldna' be surprised," said he.

"I wish you'd lend it me."

"What for?"

"I want to go over to Hanbridge and book my berth, definitely, and I've
no loose cash."

Now here was a chance to yield. But no.

"Dost mean to say," he exclaimed, "as ye havena' booked your berth? When
does th' steamer sail?"

"There's one from Glasgow next Saturday," said she--"the _Saskatchewan_.
I secured the berth, but I didn't pay for it."

"It's a rare lot of money," he observed.

"Oh," she said, "I didn't want all that for the fare. I've other things
to pay for--railway to Glasgow, etc. You will lend it me, won't you?"

Her fingers were already in the cashbox. She was behaving just like a
little girl, like a spoilt child. It was remarkable, he considered, how
old and mature Helen could be when she chose, and how kittenish when she
chose.

She went off with four five-pound notes and five sovereigns. "Will you
ask me to come back and cook the dinner?" she smiled, ironically,
enchantingly.

"Ay!" he said. He was bound to smile also.

She returned in something over two hours.

"There you are!" she said, putting a blue-green paper into his hand.
"Ever seen one of th