wheelie!' and tak' him awa' wi' him some gait or ither, whaur, maybe,
he may mak' choice o' his ain machine for the neist trial."

"That's some cauld doctrine, Mr Cupples," Alec would say.

"Weel," he would return with a smile, "gang to yer frien' Thamas Crann,
and he'll gie ye something a hantle better. That's ane o' the maist
extrornar men I ever made acquantance wi'. He'll gie ye divine
philosophy--a dooms sicht better nor mine. But, eh! he's saft for a'
that."

Annie would have got more good from these readings than either of them.
Mr Cupples was puzzled to account for her absence, but came to see into
the mother's defensive strategy, who had not yet learned to leave such
things to themselves; though she might have known by this time that the
bubbles of scheming mothers, positive or negative, however well-blown,
are in danger of collapsing into a drop of burning poison. He missed
Annie very much, and went often to see her, taking her what books he
could. With one or other of these she would wander along the banks of
the clear brown Glamour, now watching it as it subdued its rocks or lay
asleep in its shadowy pools, now reading a page or two, or now seating
herself on the grass, and letting the dove of peace fold its wings upon
her bosom. Even her new love did not more than occasionally ruffle the
flow of her inward river. She had long cherished a deeper love, which
kept it very calm. Her stillness was always wandering into prayer; but
never did she offer a petition that associated Alec's fate with her
own; though sometimes she would find herself holding up her heart like
an empty cup which knew that it was empty. She missed Tibbie Dyster
dreadfully.

One day, thinking she heard Mr Cupples come upstairs, she ran down with
a smile on her face, which fell off it like a withered leaf when she
saw no one there but Robert the student. He, taking the smile for
himself, rose and approached her with an ugly response on his heavy
countenance. She turned and flew up again to her room; whither to her
horror he followed her, demanding a kiss. An ordinary Scotch maiden of
Annie's rank would have answered such a request from a man she did not
like with a box on the ear, tolerably delivered; but Annie was too
proud even to struggle, and submitted like a marble statue, except that
she could not help wiping her lips after the salute. The youth walked
away more discomfited than if she had made angry protestations, and a
successfu