eet Kate again I
had no thought of this. I had forgotten. I came to Edinburgh on some
business connected with a mine discovered on my estate, which seemed
likely to make a great fortune for me, and is already on the way to
accomplishing this first duty of a mine. My business done, I stayed on
at my hotel in Princes Street amusing myself, for I had a multitude of
friends in Edinburgh. One of these friends was a medical student
attached to the hospital there, and he chanced to invite me to go with
him through the wards one day. In one of the wards I encountered Kate
Walters, fresh, clear, calm as in the old Carlounie days of my illness.
She did not know me till I recalled myself to her recollection; then she
looked into my face with the frankest astonishment. My superb physique
amazed her, although she had attended upon its beginnings. I asked after
her life in the interval since our last meeting; and she told me, with a
delightful blush, that her period of nursing was nearly concluded, as
she was engaged to be married to one Hugh Fraser, a handsome, rich,
and--strange thing this!--most steadfast youth, who lived in England in
the south, and who loved her tenderly. I congratulated her, and was on
the point of moving away down the ward with my friend when my eyes were
caught again by Kate's blushing cheeks and eyes alight with the fiery
shames and joys of love. How beautiful is the human face when the
torches of the heart are kindled thus. How beautiful! I paused, and,
before I went, invited Kate to tea one afternoon at my hotel. She
accepted the invitation. Why not? In our meeting the old chain of
sympathy between patient and nurse seemed forged anew. We felt that we
were indeed friends. As we left the ward, my student chum chaffed me--I
let his words go by heedlessly. I was not in love with Kate, but I was
half in love with her love for Hugh Fraser. It had such pretty features.
She came to tea and told me all about him; and when she talked of him
she was so fascinating that I was loath to let her go. It was a sweet
evening, and, as Kate had not to be back at the hospital early, I
suggested that we should go for a stroll on Carlton Hill, and talk a
little more about Hugh Fraser. The bribe tempted her. I saw that. And
she agreed after a moment's hesitation.

There is certainly an influence that lives only out of doors and can
never enter a house, or exercise itself within four walls. There is a
wandering spirit in the air