her, mother," he cried, "don't say any more. She has promised to be
my wife."

Lady Macleod stared at him as if to see whether he had really gone mad,
and rose and pushed back her chair.

"Keith," she said, slowly and with a cold dignity, "when you choose a
wife, I hope I will be the first to welcome her, and I shall be proud to
see you with a wife worthy of the name that you bear; but in the
meantime I do not think that such a subject should be made the occasion
of a foolish jest."

And with that she left the apartment, and Keith Macleod turned in a
bewildered sort of fashion to his cousin. Janet Macleod had risen too;
she was regarding him with anxious and troubled and tender eyes.

"Janet," said he, "it is no jest at all!"

"I know that," said she, in a low voice, and her face was somewhat pale.
"I have known that. I knew it before you went away to England this last
time."

And suddenly she went over to him and bravely held out her hand; and
there were quick tears in the beautiful gray eyes.

"Keith," said she, "there is no one will be more proud to see you happy
than I; and I will do what I can for you now, if you will let me, for I
see your whole heart is set on it; and how can I doubt that you have
chosen a good wife?"

"Oh Janet, if you could only see her and know her!"

She turned aside for a moment--only for a moment. When he next saw her
face she was quite gay.

"You must know, Keith," said she, with a smile shining through the tears
of the friendly eyes, "that women-folk are very jealous; and all of a
sudden you come to auntie and me, and tell us that a stranger has taken
away your heart from us and from Dare; and you must expect us to be
angry and resentful just a little bit at first."

"I never could expect that from you, Janet," said he. "I knew that was
impossible from you."

"As for auntie, then," she said, warmly, "is it not natural that she
should be surprised and perhaps offended--"

"But she says she does not believe it--that I am making a joke of it--"

"That is only her way of protesting, you know," said the wise cousin.
"And you must expect her to be angry and obdurate, because women have
their prejudices, you know, Keith; and this young lady--well, it is a
pity she is not known to some one auntie knows."

"She is known to Norman Ogilvie, and to dozens of Norman Ogilvie's
friends, and Major Stuart has seen her," said he, quickly; and then he
drew back. "But that is nothing. I do