e of that, what would become of me? It
is a good thing to have hope--to look forward to the glad days: that
stills the pain at the heart. And now we two are together at last,
Gerty! And if you are angry, the anger will pass away; and we will go
forward together to the glad days."

She was listening in a sort of vague and stunned amazement. Both her
anger and her fear were slowly yielding to the bewilderment of the fact
that she was really setting out on a voyage, the end of which neither
she nor any one living could know.

"Ah, Gerty," said he, regarding her with a strange wistfulness in the
sad eyes, "you do not know what it is to me to see you again! I have
seen you many a time--in dreams; but you were always far away, and I
could not take your hand. And I said to myself that you were not cruel;
that you did not wish any one to suffer pain. And I knew if I could only
see you again, and take you away from these people, then your heart
would be gentle, and you would think of the time when you gave me the
red rose, and we went out in the garden, and all the air round us was so
full of gladness that we did not speak at all. Oh yes; and I said to
myself that your true friends were in the North; and what would the men
at Dubh-Artach not do for you, and Captain Macallum too, when they knew
you were coming to live at Dare; and I was thinking that would be a
grand day when you came to live among us; and there would be dancing,
and a good glass of whiskey for every one, and some playing on the pipes
that day! And sometimes I did not know whether there would be more of
laughing or of crying when Janet came to meet you. But I will not
trouble you any more now, Gerty; for you are tired, I think; and I will
send Christina to you. And you will soon think that I was not cruel to
you when I took you away and saved you from yourself."

She did not answer; she seemed in a sort of trance. But she was aroused
by the entrance of Christina, who came in directly after Macleod left.
Miss White stared at this tall white-haired woman, as if uncertain how
to address her; when she spoke, it was in a friendly and persuasive way.

"You have not forgotten me, then, Christina?"

"No, mem," said the grave Highland woman. She had beautiful, clear,
blue-gray eyes, but there was no pity in them.

"I suppose you have no part in this mad freak?"

The old woman seemed puzzled. She said, with a sort of serious
politeness,--

"I do not know, mem. I h