his
thoughts to other things; and, as they romped and courted, and fought
among the bushes, his thoughts went back to the moor at home, and the
little wood, and the memories of other things.

The vague stirrings of power within him had become more pronounced
during the last six months, and he felt conscious of a growing sense of
importance. It was not that he was conceited, but his mental muscles, as
it were, seemed to have gained in power from the strenuous exertions
which they had lately undertaken.

He knew that he possessed talents far above the average of his class. He
was sensible of a certain superiority, yet it was not from the
contemplation of this that he drew his elation. He saw the issue quite
clearly and knew the pathway which must be trodden. He was not
personally ambitious for the sake of making an impression or gaining
power. He knew that in too many cases men had in the past made their
position a sinecure in the Labor Movement and he condemned their action.
The Movement must be served and not lived on. Not personal betterment,
but the betterment of the whole lot. Whatever it demanded of service
from anyone should be given willingly, no matter in what direction the
call were made.

Musing thus, he strolled along among his hopes of the future. His life's
work lay here, working for his own class--for humanity. There was
nothing else to win him; for like most young men in like circumstances
he had already concluded that now, since Mysie was not to be his, there
was nothing else to which he could better devote his life.

Where was Mysie, he wondered? What had happened to her? She had
completely gone out of everybody's knowledge, and no one seemed to know
anything about her.

He moved slowly along and at the thought of Mysie his former decision
seemed a cold one and he felt that she still held a big place in his
life. Moving towards a seat a little way ahead so that he might enjoy
this mood, the figure of a girl started up as if to go, and immediately
he rushed forward, all his pulses afire, and his whole being stirred
beyond words.

"Mysie!" he exclaimed, jumping forward, "Guid God! where have you come
from? Where have you been?" and his hands were holding hers, and his
eyes greedily scanning her face as if he would look into her very soul,
and read the story of the last few months.

"Oh, Rob," she said, with a gasp, "I didna think I wad meet you here."

"Sit down," he said hurriedly, as he recove