children of his dead friend and cousin capable of doing so
well for themselves.

It is just possible that deep down in his heart, unknown or
unacknowledged to himself, there lurked a hope that when Shenac should
marry, as he thought she was sure to do, and when wild Dan should have
gone away, as his brothers had done before him, those well-tilled fields
might still become his. Perhaps I am wrong, and hard upon him, as
Shenac was.

She gave him no credit for his kind thoughts, but used to say to her
brothers, when she caught a glimpse of his face over the fence,--

"There stands Angus Dhu, glowering and glooming at us. He's not praying
for summer rain on our behalf, I'll warrant.--Oh well, Angus man, we'll
do without your prayers, as we do without your help, and as you'll have
to do without our land. Make the most of what you have got, and be
content."

"Shenac," said Hamish on one of these occasions, "you're hard on Angus
Dhu."

"Am I, Hamish?" said Shenac, laughing. "Well, maybe I am; but it will
not harm him, I daresay."

"But it may harm yourself, Shenac," said Hamish gravely. "I think I
would rather lose all the work we have done this spring than have it
said that our Shenac was bearing false witness against our neighbour,
and he of our own kin, too."

"Nobody would dare to say that of me," said Shenac, reddening.

"But if it is true, what is the difference whether it is said or not?"
said Hamish. "You seem more glad of our success because you think it
vexes Angus Dhu, than because it pleases our mother and keeps us all at
home together. It does not vex him, I'm sure of that; and, whether it
does or not, it is wrong for you always to be thinking and saying it.
You are not to be grieved or angry at my saying it, Shenac."

But both grieved and angry Shenac was at her brother's reproof. She did
not know which was greater, her anger or her grief. She did not trust
herself to answer him, and in a little time Hamish spoke again:--

"It cannot harm him--at least, I think it cannot really harm him, though
it may vex him; and I'm sure it must grieve the girls to hear that you
say such things about their father. But that is not what I was thinking
about. It must harm yourself most. You are growing hard and bitter.
You are not like yourself, Shenac, when you speak of Angus Dhu."

The sting of her brother's words was in the last sentence, but it was
the first part that Shenac answered.

"You know very