t had had any share in the matter! She could not face
him with such a thought in her heart. She ran down to the sea-shore,
and hid herself in a rocky shelter, and tried to think the position
down to the bottom.

It was all a chaos of miserable suspicion, and at last she concluded
that her fear and doubt came entirely from Matilda's wicked
assertions. She would not admit that they had found in her heart a
condition ready to receive them. She said: "I will not again think
of the evil words; it is a wrong to Liot. I will not tell them to
him; he would go to Matilda, and there would be more trouble, and
the why and the wherefore spread abroad; and God knows how the
wicked thought grows."

Then she stooped and bathed her eyes and face in the cold salt water,
and afterward walked slowly back to Paul Borson's. The house was
full of company and merry-making, and she was forced to fall into
the mood expected from her. Women do such things by supreme efforts
beyond the power of men. And Karen's smiles showed nothing of the
shadow behind them, even when Liot questioned her about her visit.

"She is a bad woman, Liot," answered Karen, "and she said many
temper-trying words."

"That is what I looked for, Karen. It is her way about all things
to scold and storm her utmost. Does she trouble you, dear one?"

"I will not be word-sick for her. There is, as you said, no love lost
between us, and I shall not care a rap for her anger. Thanks to the
Best, we can live without her." And in this great trust she laid her
hand in Liot's, and all shadows fled away.

It was then a lovely night, bright with rosy auroras; but before
morning there was a storm. The bridal march to the kirk had to be
given up, and, hooded and cloaked, the company went to the ceremony
as they best could. There was no note of music to step to; it was
hard enough to breast the gusty, rattling showers, and the whole
landscape was a little tragedy of wind and rain, of black, tossing
seas and black, driving clouds. Many who were not at the bridal
shook their heads at the storm-drenched wedding-guests, and predicted
an unhappy marriage; and a few ventured to assert that Matilda
Sabiston had been seen going to the spaewife Asta. "And what for,"
they asked, "but to buy charms for evil weather?"

All such dark predictions, however, appeared to be negatived by
actual facts. No man in Lerwick was so happy as Liot Borson. The home
he had built Karen made a marvel of neatnes