in!" she said.

"It does come in! It comes in everywhere!" he declared. "There's no
other woman in the world that would have done so much for a poor forlorn
old tramp like that, adrift on the country roads. And you exposed
yourself to some risk, too, Mary! He might have been a dangerous
character!"

"Poor dear, he didn't look it," she said gently--"and he hasn't proved
it. Everything has gone well for me since I did my best for him. It was
even through him that you came to know me, Angus!--think of that!
Blessings on the dear old man!--I'm sure he must be an angel in
disguise!"

He smiled.

"Well, we never know!" he said. "Angels certainly don't come to us with
all the celestial splendour which is supposed to belong to them--they
may perhaps choose the most unlikely way in which to make their errands
known. I have often--especially lately--thought that I have seen an
angel looking at me out of the eyes of a woman!"

"You _will_ talk poetry!" protested Mary.

"I'm not talking it--I'm living it!" he answered.

There was nothing to be said to this. He was an incorrigible lover, and
remonstrances were in vain.

"You must not tell David's real history to any of the villagers," said
Mary presently, as they came in sight of her cottage--"I wouldn't like
them to know it."

"They shall never know it so far as I am concerned," he answered. "He's
been a good friend to me--and I wouldn't cause him a moment's trouble.
I'd like to make him happier if I could!"

"I don't think that's possible,"--and her eyes were clouded for a moment
with a shadow of melancholy--"You see he has no money, except the little
he earns by basket-making, and he's very far from strong. We must be
kind to him, Angus, as long as he needs kindness."

Angus agreed, with sundry ways of emphasis that need not here be
narrated, as they composed a formula which could not be rendered into
set language. Arriving at the cottage they found the door open, and no
one in the kitchen,--but on the table lay two sprigs of sweetbriar.
Angus caught sight of them at once.

"Mary! See! Don't you think he knows?"

She stood hesitating, with a lovely wavering colour in her cheeks.

"Don't you remember," he went on, "you gave me a bit of sweetbriar on
the evening of the first day we ever met?"

"I remember!" and her voice was very soft and tremulous.

"I have that piece of sweetbriar still," he said; "I shall never part
with it. And old David must have known all