AN ORKNEY MAID

 By AMELIA E. BARR

 An Orkney Maid Christine Joan Profit and Loss Three Score and Ten The Measure of a Man The Winning of Lucia Playing with Fire All the Days of My Life

 D. APPLETON & COMPANY Publishers New York

[Illustration: "Ian was utterly charmed with the picture she made----"[PAGE 60]]

 AN ORKNEY MAID

 BY AMELIA E. BARR

 AUTHOR OF "CHRISTINE, " "JOAN, " "PROFIT AND LOSS, " ETC. 

 _"The pleasant habit of existence, the sweet fable of life. "_

 ILLUSTRATED

 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY NEW YORK LONDON 1918

 COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

 Printed in the United States of America

 TO MY DEAR FRIEND DR. MARTIN BARR OF ELWYNN, PENNSYLVANIA, I INSCRIBE THIS BOOK. AMELIA E. BARR. 

 "_Honor and truth formed your will, Your heart, fidelity. _"

_MOTTO_

 _"You can glad your child, or grieve it, You can help it, or deceive it, When all is done, Beneath God's sun, You can only love, and leave it. "_

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE Introduction 1 I. The House of Ragnor 7 II. Adam Vedder's Trouble 30 III. Aries the Ram 47 IV. Sunna and Her Grandfather 72 V. Sunna and Thora 98 VI. The Old, Old Trouble 129 VII. The Call of War 164 VIII. Thora's Problem 193 IX. The Bread of Bitterness 230 X. The One Remains, the Many Change and Pass 271 XI. Sequences 304

INTRODUCTION

Yesterday morning this thing happened to me: I was reading the _NewYork Times_ and my eyes suddenly fell upon one word, and that wordrang a little bell in my memory, "Kirkwall!" The next moment I hadclosed my eyes in order to see backward more clearly, and slowly, butsurely, the old, old town--standing boldly upon the very beach of thestormy North Sea--became clear in my mental vision. There was a wholefleet of fishing boats, and a few smart smuggling craft rocking gentlyin its wonderful harbour--a harbour so deep and safe, and so capaciousthat it appeared capable of sheltering the navies of the world. 

I was then eighteen years old, I am now over eighty-six; and thestraits of Time have widened and widened with every year, so that manythings appear to have been carried away into forgetfulness by thestress and flow of full waters. But not so! They are only lying inout-of-the-way corners of consciousness, and can easily be recalled bysome word that has the potency of a spell over them. 

"Kirkwall!" I said softly, and then I began to read what the _Times_had to say about Kirkwall. The great point appeared to be that as arendezvous for ships it had been placed fifty miles within the "madein Germany" danger zone, and was therefore useless to the Britishmen-of-war. And I laughed inwardly a little, and began to consider ifKirkwall had ever been long outside of some danger zone or other. 

All its myths and traditions are of the fighting Picts and Scots, andwhen history began to notice the existence of the Orkneys it was tochronicle the struggle between Harold, King of Norway, and hisrebellious subjects who had fled to the Orkneys to escape histyrannical control. And of the danger zones of every kind whichfollowed--of storm and battle and bloody death--does not the Saga ofEglis give us a full account?

This fight for popular freedom was a failure. King Harold conqueredhis rebellious subjects, and incidentally took possession of theislands and the people who had sheltered them. Then their rulersbecame Norwegian jarls--or earls--and there is no question aboutthe danger zones into which the Norwegian vikings carried theOrcadeans--quite in accord with their own desire and liking, no doubt. And the stirring story of these years--full of delightful dangersto the men who adventured them--may all be read today in theblood-stirring, blood-curdling Norwegian Sagas. 

In the middle of the fifteenth century, James the Third, King ofScotland, married Margaret of Denmark, and the Orcades were given toScotland as a security for her dowry. The dowry was never paid, andafter a lapse of a century and a half Denmark resigned all herOrcadean rights to Scotland. The later union of England and Scotlandfinally settled their destiny. 

But until the last century England cared very little about theOrcades. Indeed Colonel Balfour, writing of these islands in A. D. 1861, says: "Orkney is a part of a British County, but probablythere is no part of Europe which so few Englishmen visit. " ColonelBalfour, of Balfour and Trenabie, possessed a noble estate on thelittle isle of Shapinsay. He enthused the Orcadeans with the modernspirit of improvement and progress; he introduced a proper systemof agriculture, built mills of all kinds, got laws passed forreclaiming waste lands, and was in every respect a wise, generous, faithful father of his country. To Americans Shapinsay has apeculiar interest. In a little cottage there, called _Quholme_, thefather and mother of Washington Irving lived, and their sonWashington was born on board an American ship on its passage fromKirkwall to New York. 

However, it is only since A. D. 1830, one year before I was born, thatthe old Norse life has been changed in Orkney. Up to that dateagriculture could hardly be said to exist. The sheep and cattle of alltowns, or communities, grazed together; but this plan, though it savedthe labour of herding, was at the cost of abandoning the lambs to theeagles who circled over the flocks and selected their victims at will. In the late autumn all stock was brought to the "infield, " which wasthen crowded with horses, cattle and sheep. In A. D. 1830, theNorwegian system of weights was changed to the standard weights andmeasures, and money, instead of barter, began to be used generally. 

Then a great Scotch emigration set in, and brought careful methods offarming with it; and the Orcadean could not but notice results. TheScotch trader came also, and the slipshod Norse way of barter andbargaining had no chance with the Scotch steady prices and readymoney. But even through all these domestic and civic changes Orkneywas constantly in zones of danger. In the first half of the nineteenthcentury England was at war with France and Spain and Russia, and theOrcadeans have a fine inherited taste for a sea fight. The Vikings didnot rule them through centuries for nothing: the Orcadean and hisbrother, the Shetlander, salt the British Navy, and they rather enjoydanger zones. 

A single generation, with the help of steam communications, changedOrkney entirely and in the course of the second generation theOrcadean became eager for improvements of all kinds, and ready toforward them generously with the careful hoardings of perhaps manygenerations. And as it is in this transient period of the last centurythat my hero and heroine lived, I have thought it well to saysomething of antecedents that Americans may well be excused forknowing nothing about. Also--

 . .. The past will always win A glory from its being far; And orb into the perfect star, We saw not, when we walked therein. 

However, Orkney was far from being out of danger zones in thenineteenth century. In its first quarter French and Dutch privateersmade frequent raids on the islands; and the second quarter gave hermen their chance of danger in the Crimea. They were not strangers inthe Russian Chersoneus; their fathers had been in southern seascenturies before them. During the last fifty years they have madedanger zones of their own free will, quarreling with coast guards, tampering with smugglers, wandering off with would-be discoverers ofthe North Pole, or with any other doubtful and dangerous enterprise. 

And these reflections made me quite comfortable about the"made-in-Germany" danger zone. I think the Orcadeans will rather enjoyit; and I am quite sure if any Germans take to trafficking, or buyingor selling, in Kirkwall, they will get the worst of it. In thisdirection it is rather pleasant to remember that even Scotchmen, disputing about money, will find the Orcadeans "too far north forthem. "

CHAPTER I

THE HOUSE OF RAGNOR

 Kind were the voices I used to hear Round such a fireside, Speaking the mother tongue old and dear; Making the heart beat, With endless tales of wonder and fear, Or plaintive singing. 

 Great were the marvellous stories told Of Ossian heroes, Giants, and witches and young men bold Seeking adventures, Winning Kings' daughters, and guarded gold Only with valor. 

The House of Ragnor was a large and very picturesque edifice. It wasbuilt of red and white sandstone which Time had covered with aheathery lichen, softening the whole into a shade of greenish grey. Many minds and many hands had fashioned it, for above its central doorwas the date, 1688, which would presuppose that it had been builtfrom revenues coming as a reward for opposition to the Stuarts. It hadbeen altered and enlarged by nearly every occupant, was many-roomed, and surrounded by a large garden, full of such small fruits as couldripen in the short summers, and of such flowers and shrubs as couldlive through the long winters. In sheltered situations, there wereeven hardy roses, and a royal plenty of England's spring flowerssweetened many months of the year. A homely garden, where berries androses grew together and privet hedges sheltered peas and lettuce, andtulips and wall-flowers did not disdain the proximity of householdvegetables. 

Doubtless the Ragnors had been jarls in old Norwegian times, but in1853 such memories had been forgotten, and Conall Ragnor was quitecontent with his reputation of being the largest trader in Orkney, anda very wealthy man. Physically he was of towering stature. His hairwas light brown, and rather curly; his eyes large and bright blue, hisface broad and rosy. He had great bodily and mental vigor, he wasblunt in speech, careless about his dress, and simple in all his ways. His Protestantism was of the most decided character, but he was not aPresbyterian. Presbyterianism was a new thing on the face of theearth; he had been "authoritatively told, the Apostles wereEpiscopalians. "

"My soul has received no orders to go to thy Presbyterian Church, " hesaid to the young Calvinist minister who asked him to do so. "When theorder comes, then that may happen which has never happened before. "

Yet in spite of his pronounced nationality, and his Episcopal faith, he married Rahal Gordon from the braes of Moray; a Highland Scotchwoman and a strict Calvinist. What compact had been made between themno one knew, but it had been sufficient to prevent all religiousdisputes during a period of twenty-six years. If Rahal Ragnor had anyrespectable excuse, she did not go to the ritual service in theCathedral. If she had no such excuse, she went there with her husbandand family. Then doubtless her prayer was the prayer of Naaman, thatwhen "she bowed herself in the House of Rimmon, the Lord would pardonher for it. "

No one could deny her beauty, though it was of the Highland Scotchtype, and therefore a great contrast to the Orcadean blonde. She wasslender and dark, with plentiful, glossy, black hair, and soft browneyes. Her face was oval and richly coloured. Her temperament was frankand domestic; yet she had a romantic side, and a full appreciation ofwhat she called "a proper man. "

They had had many children, but four were dead, and three daughterswere married and living in Edinburgh and Lerwick, and two sons hademigrated to Canada; while the youngest of all, a boy of fifteen, wasa midshipman on Her Majesty's man-of-war, _Vixen_, so that only oneboy and one girl were with their parents. These were Boris, the eldestson, who was sailing his own ship on business ventures to French andDutch ports, and Thora, the only unmarried daughter. And in 1853 thesefive persons lived happily enough together in the Ragnor House, Kirkwall. 

One day in the spring of 1853 Conall Ragnor was at the rear door ofhis warehouse. The sea was lippering against its foundation, and hestood with his hand on his left hip, as with a raised head and keeneyes, he searched the far horizon. 

In a few minutes he turned with a look of satisfaction. "Well andgood!" he thought. "Now I will go home. I have the news I was watchingfor. " Anon he looked at his watch and reflecting a moment assuredhimself that Boris and the _Sea Gull_ would be safely at anchor byfive o'clock. 

So with an air of satisfaction he walked through the warehouse, looking critically at the men cleaning and packing feathers, or driedfish, or fresh eggs. There was no sign of slacking in this department, and he turned into the shop where men were weighing groceries andmeasuring cloth. All seemed well, and after a short delay in his ownparticular office he went comfortably home. 

Meanwhile his daughter Thora was talking of him, and wondering whatnews he would bring them, and Mistress Ragnor, in a very smart cap anda gown of dark violet silk, was knitting by the large window in theliving room--a very comfortable room carpeted with a good Kilmarnock"three-ply" and curtained with red moreen. There were a few seapictures on the walls, and there was a good fire of drift-wood andpeat upon the snow-white hearth. 

Thora had just entered the room with a clean table-cloth in her hands. Her mother gave her a quick glance of admiration and then said:

"I thought thou wert looking for Boris home tonight. "

"Well, then, Mother, that is so. He said we must give him a littledance tonight, and I have asked the girls he likes best to come here. I thought this was known to thee. To call my words back now, will givegreat disappointment. "

"No need is there to call any word back. Because of thy dress I fearedthere had been some word of delay. If likelihood rule, Maren and HelgaTorrie will wear the best they have. "

"That is most certain, but I am not minded to outdress the Torriegirls. Very hard it is for them to get a pretty frock, and it willmake them happy to see themselves smarter than Thora Ragnor. "

"Thou should think of thyself. "

"Well, I am generally uppermost in my own mind. Also, in Edinburgh Iwas told that the hostess must not outdress her guests. "

"Edinburgh and Kirkwall are not in the same latitude. Keep mind ofthat. Step forward and let me look at thee. "

So Thora stood up before her mother, and the light from the windowfell all over her, and she was beautiful from head to feet. Tall andslender, with a great quantity of soft brown hair very looselyarranged on the crown of her head; a forehead broad and white;eyebrows, plentiful and well arched; starlike blue eyes, with a large, earnest gaze and an oval face tinted like a rose. Oh! why try todescribe a girl so lovely? It is like pulling a rose to pieces. It iseasier to say that she was fleshly perfect and that, being yet in hereighteenth year, she had all the bloom of opening flowers, and alltheir softness and sweetness. 

Apparently she owed little to her dress, and yet it would havebeen difficult to choose anything more befitting her, for though itwas only of wine-coloured cashmere, it was made with a plainpicturesqueness that rendered it most effective. The short sleevesthen worn gave to her white arms the dark background that made thema fascination; the high waist, cut open in front to a point, wasfilled in with white satin, over which it was laced together with athin silk cord of the same colour as the dress. A small lace collarcompleted the toilet, and for the occasion, it was perfect;anything added to it would have made it imperfect. 

This was the girl who, standing before her mother, asked for herapproval. And Rahal Ragnor's eyes were filled with her beauty, and shecould only say:

"Dear thing! There is no need to change! Just as thou art pleasesme!"

Then with a face full of love Thora stooped and kissed her mother andanon began to set the table for the expected guests. With sandalledfeet and smiling face, she walked about the room with the composure ofa goddess. There was no hesitation concerning what she had to do; allhad been arranged and settled in her mind previously, though now andthen, the discussion of a point appeared to be pleasant andsatisfying. Thus she thoughtfully said:

"Mother, there will be thyself and father and Boris, that is three, and Sunna Vedder, and Helga and Maren Torrie, that makes six, and GathPeterson, and Wolf Baikie and his sisters Sheila and Maren make ten, and myself, eleven--that is all and it is enough. "

"Why not make it twelve?"

"There is luck in odd numbers. I am the eleventh. I like it. "

"Thou might have made it ten. There is one girl on thy list it wouldbe better without. "

"Art thou thinking of Sunna Vedder, Mother?"

"Yes, I am thinking of Sunna Vedder. "

"Well and good. But if Sunna is not here, Boris would feel as ifthere was no one present. It is Sunna he wants to see. It is Sunna hewants to please. He says he is so sorry for her. "

"Why?"

"Because she has to live with old Vedder who is nothing but abookworm. "

"Vedder is a very clever man. The Bishop was saying that. "

"Yes, in a way he was saying it, but----"

"The Bishop was not liking the books he was studying. He said they didmen and women no good. Thy father was telling me many things. Yes, soit is! The Vedders are counted queer--they are different from thee andme, and--the Bishop. "

"And the Dominie?"

"That may well be. Thy father has a will for Boris to marry AndrinaThorkel. "

"Boris will never marry Andrina. It would be great bad luck if he did. Many speak ill of her. She has a temper to please the devil. I washearing she would marry Scot Keppoch. That would do; for then theywould not spoil two houses. "

"Tell thy father thy thought, and he will give thee thy answer;--butwhy talk of the Future and the Maybe? The Now is the hour of the wise, so I will go upstairs and lay out some proper clothing and do thouget thy father to dress himself, as Conall Ragnor ought to do. "

"That may not be easy to manage. "

"Few things are beyond thy say-so. " Then she lifted her work-bag andleft the room. 

During this conversation Conall Ragnor had been slowly making his wayhome, after leaving his warehouse when the work of the day was done. Generally he liked his walk through the town to his homestead, whichwas just outside the town limits. It was often pleasant andflattering. The women came to their doors to watch him, or to speak tohim, and their admiration and friendliness was welcome. For many yearshe had been used to it, but he had not in the least outgrown thethrill of satisfaction it gave him. And often he wondered if his wifenoticed the good opinion that the ladies of Kirkwall had for herhusband. 

"Of course she does, " he commented, "but a great wonder it would be ifmy Rahal should speak of it. In that hour she would be out of thecommodity of pride, or she would have forgotten herself entirely. "

This day he had received many good-natured greetings--Jenny Torrie hadtold him that the _Sea Gull_ was just coming into harbour, and soheavy with cargo that the sea was worrying at her gunwale; then MaryInkster--from the other side of the street--added, "Both hands--seenand unseen--are full, Captain, I'll warrant that!"

"Don't thee warrant beyond thy knowledge, Mary, " answered Ragnor, witha laugh. "The _Sea Gull_ may have hands; she has no tongue. "

"All that touches the _Sea Gull_ is a thing by itself, " cried prettyAstar Graff, whose husband was one of the _Sea Gull's_ crew. 

"So, then, Astar, she takes her own at point and edge. That is herway, and her right, " replied Ragnor. 

Thus up the narrow street, from one side or the other, Conall Ragnorwas greeted. Good wishes and good advice, with now and then a carefulinnuendo, were freely given and cheerfully taken; and certainly therecipient of so much friendly notice was well pleased with its freedomand good will. He came into his own house with the smiling amiabilityof a man who has had all the wrinkles of the day's business smoothedand soothed out of him. 

Looking round the room, he was rather glad his wife was not there. Shewas generally cool about such attentions, and secretly offended bytheir familiarity. For she was not only a reader and a thinker, shewas also a great observer, and she had seen and considered the slowbut sure coming of that spirit of progress, which would break up theirisolation and, with it, the social privileges of her class. However, she kept all her fears on this subject in her heart. Not even to Thorawould she talk of them lest she might be an inciter of thoughts thatwould raise up a class who would degrade her own: "Few people can betrusted with a dangerous thought, and who can tell where spoken wordsgo to. " And this idea, she knit, or stitched, into every garment herfingers fashioned. 

So, then, it was quite in keeping with her character to pass byConall's little social enthusiasms with a chilling indifference, andif any wonder or complaint was made of this attitude, to reply:

"When men and women of thine own worth and station bow down to thee, Conall, then thou will find Rahal Ragnor among them; but I do notmingle my words with those of the men and women who sort goosefeathers, and pack eggs and gut fish for the salting. Thy wife, Conall, looks up, and not down. "

Well, then, as Rahal knew that the safe return of Boris with the _SeaGull_ would possibly be an occasion for these friendly familiarities, she wisely took herself out of the way of hearing anything about it. And it is a great achievement when we learn the limit of our power toplease. Conall Ragnor had not quite mastered the lesson in twenty-sixyears. Very often, yet, he had a half-alive hope that these smalltriumphs of his daily life might at length awaken in his wife's breasta sympathetic pleasure. Today it was allied with the return of Borisand his ship, and he thought this event might atone for whatever wasrepugnant. 

And yet, after all, when he saw no one but Thora present, he had asense of relief. He told her all that had been said and done, andadded such incidents of Boris and the ship as he thought would pleaseher. She laughed and chatted with him, and listened with unabatedpleasure to the very end, indeed, until he said: "Now, then, I muststop talking. I dare say there are many things to look after, forBoris told me he would be home for dinner at six o'clock. Till thathour I will take a little nap on the sofa. "

"But first, my Father, thou wilt go and dress. Everything is ready forthee, and mother is dressed, and as for Thora, is she not prettytonight?"

"Thou art the fairest of all women here, if I know anything aboutbeauty. Wolf Baikie will be asking the first dance with thee. "

"That dance is thine. Mother has given thee to me for that dance. "

"To me? That is very agreeable. I am proud to be thy father. "

"Then go and dress thyself. I am particular about my partners. "

"Dress! What is wrong with my dress?"

"Everything! Not an article in it is worthy of thee and theoccasion. "

"I tell thee, all is as it should be. I am not minded to change it inany way. "

"Yes; to please Thora, thou wilt make some changes. Do, my Father. Ilove thee so! I am so proud of thy figure, and thou can show even WolfBaikie how he ought to dance. "

"Well, then, just for thee--I will wash and put on fresh linen. "

"And comb thy beautiful hair. If thou but wet it, then it curls sothat any girl would envy thee. And all the women would say that it wasfrom thee, Thora got her bright, brown, curly hair. "

"To comb my hair? That is but a trifle. I will do it to please thee. "

"And thou wilt wet it, to make it curl?"

"That I will do also--to please thee. "

"Then, as we are to dance together, thou wilt put on thy fine whitesocks, and thy Spanish leather shoes--the pair that have the brightbuckles on the instep. Yes, thou wilt do me that great favour. "

"Thou art going too far; I will not do that. "

"Not for thy daughter Thora?" and she laid her cheek against hischeek, and whispered with a kiss, "Yes, thou wilt wear the buckledshoes for Thora. They will look so pretty in the dance: and WolfBaikie cannot toss his head at thy boots, as he did at Aunt Brodie'sChristmas dinner. "

"Did he do that thing?"

"I saw him, and I would not dance with him because of it. "

"Thou did right. Thy Aunt Barbara----"

"Is my aunt, and thy eldest sister. All she does is square andupright; what she says, it were well for the rest of the town to takeheed to. It would please Aunt if thou showed Wolf Baikie thou haddancing shoes and also knew right well how to step in them. "

"Well, then, thou shalt have thy way. I will wash, I will comb myhair, I will put on clean linen and white socks and my buckled shoes. That is all I will do! I will not change my suit--no, I will not!"

"Father!"

"Well, then, what call for 'Father' now?"

"I want thee to wear thy kirk suit. "

"I will not! No, I will not! The flannel suit is good enough for anyman. "

"Yes, if it were clean and sweet, and had no fish scales on it, and nofish smell in it. And even here--at the very end of the world--thyfriend, the good Bishop, wears black broadcloth and all gentlemen copyhim. If Thora was thy sweetheart, instead of thy own dear daughter, she would not dance with thee in anything but thy best suit. "

"It seems to me, my own dear daughter, that very common people wearkirk toggery. When I go to the hotels in Edinburgh, or Aberdeen, orInverness, I find all the men who wait on other men are in kirkclothes; and if I go to a theatre, the men who wait on the crowd therewear kirk clothes, and----"

"Thy Bishop also wears black broadcloth. "

"That will be because of his piety and humility. I am not as piousand humble as I might be. No, indeed! Not in everything can I humourthee, and trouble myself; but this thing is what I will do--I have anew suit of fine blue flannel; last night I brought it home. AtMcVittie's it was made, and well it fits me. For thy sake I will wearit. This is the end of our talk. No more will I do. "

"Thou dear father! It is enough! With a thousand kisses I thankthee. "

"Too many kisses! Too many kisses! Thou shalt give me five when wefinish our dance; one for my curled hair, and one for my white, freshlinen, and one for my socks, and one for my buckled shoes, and thelast for my new blue suit. And in that bargain thou wilt get the bestof me, so one favour in return from thee I must have. "

"Dear Father, thy will is my will. What is thy wish?"

"I want thy promise not to dance with Wolf Baikie. Because of hissneer I am coaxed to dress as I do not want to dress. Well, then, Iwill take his place with thee, and every dance he asks from thee is tobe given to me. "

Without a moment's hesitation Thora replied: "That agreement does nottrouble me. It will be to my great satisfaction. So, then, thou artno nearer to getting the best of the bargain. "

"Thou art a clever, handsome little baggage. But my promises I willkeep, and it is well for me to be about them. Time flies talking tothee, " and he looked at his watch and said, "It is now five minutespast five. "

"Then thou must make some haste. Dinner is set for six o'clock. "

"Dost thou think I will fiddle-faddle about myself like a woman?"

"But thou must wash----"

"In the North Sea I wash me every morning. Before thou hast opened thyeyes I have had my bath and my swim in the salt water. "

"There is rain water in thy room; try it for a change. " And heanswered her with a roar of laughter far beyond Thora's power toimitate. But with it ringing in her heart and ears she saw him go to aspare room to keep his promises. Then she hastened to her mother. 

"Whatever is the matter with thy father, Thora?"

"He has promised to wash and dress. I got all I asked for. "

"Will he change his suit?"

"He has a fine new suit. It was hid away in Aunt's room. "

"What made him do such a childish thing?"

"To please thee, it was done. It was to be a surprise, I think. "

"I will go to him. "

"No, no, Mother! Let father have the pleasure he planned. To thee hewill come, as soon as he is dressed. "

"Am I right? From top to toe?"

"From top to toe just as thou should be. The white roses in thy caplook lovely with the violet silk gown. Very pretty art thou, dearMother. "

"I can still wear roses, but they are white roses now. I used to wearpink, Thora. "

"Pink and crimson and yellow roses thou may wear yet. Because whiteroses go best with violet I put that colour in thy cap for tonight. Think of what my aunt said when thou complained to her of growing old, 'Rahal, the mother of twelve sons and daughters is always young. ' NowI will run away, for my father does everything quickly. "

In about ten or fifteen minutes, Rahal Ragnor heard him coming. Thenshe stood up and watched the swift throwing open of the door, and theentrance of her husband. With a cry of pleasure she clapped her handsand said joyfully:

"Oh, Coll! Oh, my dear Coll!" and the next moment Coll kissed her. 

"Thou hast made thyself so handsome--just to please me!"

"Yes, for thee! Who else is there? Do I please thee now?"

"Always thou pleases me! But tonight, I have fallen in love with theeover again!"

"And yet Thora wanted me to wear my kirk suit, " and he walked to theglass and looked with great satisfaction at himself. "I think thissuit is more becoming. "

"My dear Coll, thou art right. A good blue flannel suit is a man'snatural garment. To everyone, rich and poor, it is becoming. If thoualways dressed as thou art now dressed, I should never have the heartor spirit to contradict thee. Thou could have thy own way, year in andyear out. "

"Is that the truth, my dear Rahal? Or is it a compliment?"

"It is the very truth, dear one!"

"From this hour, then, I will dress to thy wish and pleasure. "

She stepped quickly to his side and whispered: "In that case, therewill not be in all Scotland a more distinguished and proper man thanConall Ragnor!"

And in a large degree Conall Ragnor was worthy of all the fine thingshis wife said to him. The new clothes fell gracefully over his grandfigure; he stepped out freely in the light easy shoes he was wearing;there was not a single thing stiff or tight or uncomfortable abouthim. Even his shirt collar fell softly round his throat, and thebright crimson necktie passed under it was unrestrained by anythingbut a handsome pin, which left his throat bare and gave the scarfpermission to hang as loosely as a sailor's. 

At length Rahal said, "I see that Boris and the ship are safely homeagain. "

"Ship and cargo safe in port, and every man on board well and hearty. On the stroke of six he will be here. He said so, and Boris keeps hisword. I hear the sound of talking and laughing. Let us go to meetthem. "

They came in a merry company, Boris, with Sunna Vedder on his armleading them. They came joyously; singing, laughing, chattering, making all the noise that youth seems to think is essential topleasure. However, I shall not describe this evening. A dinner-danceis pretty much alike in all civilized and semi-civilized communities. It will really be more descriptive to indicate a few aspects in whichthis function of amusement differed from one of the same kind givenlast night in a fashionable home or hotel in New York. 

First, the guests came all together from some agreed-upon rendezvous. They walked, for private carriages were very rare and there were nonefor hire. However, this walking party was generally a very pleasantintroduction to a more pleasant and intimate evening. The women werewrapped up in their red or blue cloaks, and the men carried theirdancing slippers, fans, bouquets, and other small necessities of theballroom. 

Second, the old and the young had an equal share in any entertainment, and if there was a difference, it was in favour of the old. On thisvery night Conall Ragnor danced in every figure called, except asaraband, which he said was too slow and formal to be worth calling adance. Even old Adam Vedder who had come on his own invitation--butwelcome all the same--went through the Orkney Quickstep with the twoprettiest girls present, Thora Ragnor and Maren Torrie. For honourableage was much respected and every young person wished to share hishappiness with it. 

A very marked characteristic was the evident pleasure old and younghad in the gratification of their sense of taste, in the purely animalpleasure of eating good things. No one had a bad appetite, and ifanyone wished for more of a dish they liked, they asked for it. Indeedthey had an easy consciousness of paying their hostess a compliment, and of giving themselves a little more pleasure. 

Finally, they made the day, day; and the night, night. Such gatheringsbroke up about eleven o'clock; then the girls went home unwearied, tosleep, and morning found them rosy and happy, already wondering whowould give them the next dance. 

CHAPTER II

ADAM VEDDER'S TROUBLE

 . .. They do not trust their tongues alone But speak a language of their own; Convey a libel in a frown, And wink a reputation down; Or by the tossing of a fan, Describe the lady and the man. --SWIFT

 It is good to be merry and wise, It is good to be honest and true, It is well to be off with the old love Before you are on with the new. 

Boris did not remain long in the home port. It was drawing near toLent, and this was a sacred term very highly regarded by the citizensof this ancient cathedral town. Of course in the Great Disruption theNational Episcopal Church had suffered heavy loss, but Lent was acircumstance of the Soul, so near and dear to its memory, that eventhose disloyal to their Mother Church could not forget or ignore it. In some cases it was secretly more faithfully observed than everbefore; then its penitential prayers became intensely pathetic intheir loneliness. For these self-bereft souls could not helpremembering the days when they went up with the multitude to keep theHoly Fast in the House of their God. 

Rahal Ragnor had never kept it. It had been only a remnant of poperyto her. Long before the Free Kirk had been born, she and all herfamily had been Dissenters of some kind or other. And yet her life andher home were affected by this Episcopal "In Memoriam" in a greatnumber of small, dominating ways, so that in the course of years shehad learned to respect a ceremonial that she did not endorse. For sheknew that no one kept Lent with a truer heart than Conall Ragnor, andthat the Lenten services in the cathedral interfered with his businessto an extent nothing purely temporal would have been permitted to do. 

So, after the little dance given to Boris, there was a period ofmarked quietness in Kirkwall. It was as if some mighty Hand had beenlaid across the strings of Life and softened and subdued all theirreverberations. There was no special human influence exerted for thispurpose, yet no one could deny the presence of some unseen, unusualelement. 

"Every day seems like Sabbath Day, " said Thora. 

"It is Lent, " answered Rahal. 

"And after Lent comes Easter, dear Mother. "

"That is the truth. "

In the meantime Boris had gone to Edinburgh on the bark _Sea Gull_ tocomplete his cargo of Scotch ginghams and sewed muslins, nativejewelry and table delicacies. Perhaps, indeed, the minimum noticeaccorded Lent in the metropolitan city had something to do with thisjourney, which was not a usual one; but after the departure of the_Sea Gull_ the Ragnor household had settled down to a period ofdomestic quiet. The Master had to make up the hours spent in thecathedral by a longer stay in the store, and the women at this timegenerally avoided visiting; they felt--though they did not speak ofit--the old prohibition of unkind speech, and the theological quarrelwas yet so new and raw that to touch it was to provoke controversy, instead of conversation. 

It was at such vacant times that old Adam Vedder's visits were doublywelcome. One day in mid-Lent he came to the Ragnor house, when it wasraining with that steady deliberation that gives no hope of anythingbetter. Throwing off his waterproof outer garments, he left them todrip dry in the kitchen. An old woman, watching him, observed:

"Thou art wetting the clean floor, Master Vedder, " and he brisklyanswered: "That is thy business, Helga, not mine. Is thy mistress inthe house?"

"Would she be out, if she had any good sense left?"

"How can a man tell what a woman will do? Where is thy mistress?" andhe spoke in a tone so imperative, that she answered with shrinkinghumility:

"I ask thy favour. Mistress Ragnor is in the right-hand parlour. Iwill look after thy cloak. "

"It will be well for thee to do that. "

Then Adam went to the right-hand parlour and found Rahal sitting bythe fire sewing. 

"I am glad to see thee, Rahal, " he said. 

"I am glad to see thee always--more at this time than at any other. "

"Well, that is good, but why at this time more than at any other?"

"The town is depressed; business goes on, but in a silent fashion. There is no social pleasure--surely the reason is known to thee!"

"So it is, and the reason is good. When people are confessing theirsins, and asking pardon for the same, they cannot feel it to be acheerful entertainment; and, as thou observed, it affects even theirbusiness, which I myself notice is done without the usual joking orquarrelling or drinking of good healths. Well, then, that also isright. Where is Thora?"

"She is going to a lecture this afternoon to be given by theArchdeacon Spens to the young girls, and she is preparing for it. " Andas these words were uttered, Thora entered the room. She was dressedfor the storm outside, and wore the hood of her cloak drawn well overher hair; in her hands were a pair of her father's slippers. 

"For thee I brought them, " she said, as she held them out to Vedder. "I heard thy voice, and I was sure thy feet would be wet. See, then, Ihave brought thee my father's slippers. He would like thee to wearthem--so would I. "

"I will not wear them, Thora. I will not stand in any man's shoes butmy own. It is an unchancy, unlucky thing to do. Thanks be to thee, butI will keep my own standing, wet or dry. Look to that rule forthyself, and remember what I say. Let me see if thou art well shod. "

Thora laughed, stood straight up, and drew her dress taut, and putforward two small feet, trigly protected by high-laced boots. Then, looking at her mother, she asked: "Are the boots sufficient, or shallI wear over them my French clogs?"

Vedder answered her question. "The clogs are not necessary, " he said. "The rain runs off as fast as it falls. Thy boots are all suchtrifling feet can carry. What can women do on this hard world-roadwith such impediments as French clogs over English boots?"

"Mr. Vedder, they will do whatever they want to do; and they will gowherever they want to go; and they will walk in their own shoes, andwork in their own shoes, and be well satisfied with them. "

"Thora, I am sorry I was born in the last century. If I had waited forabout fifty years I would have been in proper time to marry thee. "

"Perhaps. "

"Yes; for I would not have let a woman so fair and good as thou art goout of my family. We should have been man and wife. That wouldcertainly have happened. "

"If two had been willing, it might have been. Now our talk must end;the Archdeacon likes not a late comer;" and with this remark, and abeaming smile, she went away. 

Then there was a silence, full of words longing to be spoken; butRahal Ragnor was a prudent woman, and she sighed and sewed and leftVedder to open the conversation. He looked at her a little impatientlyfor a few moments, then he asked:

"To what port has thy son Boris sailed?"

"Boris intends to go to Leith, if wind and water let him do so. "

"Boris is not asking wind and water about his affairs. There is aquestion I know not how to answer. I am wanting thy help. "

"If that be so, speak thy mind to me. "

"I want a few words of advice about a woman. "

"Is that woman thy granddaughter, Sunna?"

"A right guess thou hast made. "

"Then I would rather not speak of her. "

"Thy reason? What is it?"

"She is too clever for a simple woman like me. I have not two faces. Icannot make the same words mean two distinct and separate things. Sunna has all thy self-wisdom, but she has not thy true heart and thywise tongue. "

"Listen to me! Things have come to this--Boris has made love to Sunnain the face of all Kirkwall. He has done this for more than a year. Then for two weeks before he left for Leith he came not near my house, and if he met Sunna in any friend's house he was no longer her lover. What is the meaning of this? My girl is unhappy and angry, and Imyself am far from being satisfied; thou tell, what is wrong betweenthem?"

"I would prefer neither to help nor hinder thee in this matter. Thereis a broad way between these two ways, that I am minded to take. Itwill be better for me to do so, and perhaps better for thee also. "

"I thought I could count on thee for my friend. Bare is a man's backwithout friends behind it! In thee I trusted. While I feared anddoubted, I thought, 'If worse comes I will go at once to RahalRagnor'--_Thou hast failed me_. "

"Say not that--my old, dear friend! It is beyond truth. What I know Itold to my husband; and I asked him if it would be kind and well totell thee, and he said to me: 'Be not a bearer of ill news to Vedder. Little can thou trust any evil report; few people are spoken of betterthan they deserve. ' Then I gave counsel to myself, thus: Conall hasfour dear daughters, _he knows_. Conall loves his old friend Vedder;if he thought to interfere was right, he would advise Vedder tointerfere or he would interfere for him, and my wish was to spare theethe sorrow that comes from women's tongues. I was also sure that ifthe news was true, it would find thee out--if not true, why shouldRahal Ragnor sow seeds of suspicion and ill-will? Is Sunna disobedientto thee?"

"She is something worse--she deceives me. Her name is mixed up withsome report--I know not what. No one loves me well enough to tell mewhat is wrong. "

"Well, then, thou art more feared than loved. Few know thee wellenough to risk thy anger and all know that Norsemen are bittercruel to those who dare to say that one hair of their women is outof its place. Who, then, would dare to say this or that about thygranddaughter?"

"Rahal Ragnor could speak safely to me. "

Then there was silence for a few moments and Rahal sat with herdoubled-up left hand against her lips, gazing out of the window. Vedder did not disturb her. He waited patiently until she said:

"If I tell thee what was told me, wilt thou visit the story upon myhusband, or myself, or any of my children?"

Vedder took a signet ring from his finger and kissed it. "Rahal, " hesaid, "I have kissed this ring of my fathers to seal the promise Ishall make thee. If thou wilt give me thy confidence in this matter ofSunna Vedder, it shall be for thy good, and for the good of thyhusband, and for the good of all thy children, as far as Adam Veddercan make it so. "

"I ask a special promise for my son Boris, for he is concerned in thismatter. "

"Boris can take good care of Boris: nevertheless, I promise thee thatI will not say or look or do, with hands or tongue, anything that willinjure, or even annoy, Boris Ragnor. Unto the end of my life, Ipromise this. What may come after, I know not. If there should be awrong done, we will fight it out elsewhere. "

"Thy words are sufficient. Listen, then! There is a family, in thenewest and best part of the town, called McLeod. They are yet strangehere. They are Highland Scotch. Many say they are Roman Catholics. They sing Jacobite songs, and they go not to any church. They haveopened a great trading route; and they have brought many new customsand new ideas with them. A certain class of our people make much ofthem; others are barely civil to them; the best of our citizens do notnotice them at all. But they have plenty of money, and liveextravagantly, and the garrison's officers are constantly seen there. Do you know them?"

"I have heard of them. "

"McLeod has a large trading fleet, and he has interfered with thebusiness of Boris in many ways. "

"Hast thou ever seen him? Tell me what he is like. "

"I have seen him many times. He is a complete Highlander; tall, broad-shouldered and apparently very strong, also very graceful. Hehas high cheekbones, and a red beard, but all talk about him, and manythink him altogether handsome. "

"And thou? What dost thou think?"

"When I saw him, he was in earnest discussion with one of his men, andhe was not using English but sputtering a torrent of shrill Gaelic, shrugging his shoulders, throwing his arms about, thrilling withexcitement--but for all that, he was the picture of a man that mostwomen would find irresistible. "

"I have heard that he wears the Highland dress. "

"Not on the street. They have many entertainments; he may wear it insome of them; but I think he is too wise to wear it in public. TheNorseman is much indebted to the Scot--but it would not do to flauntthe feathered cap and philabeg too much--on Kirkwall streets. "

"You ought to know. "

"Yes, I am Highland Scotch, thank God! I understand this man, though Ihave never spoken to him. I know little about the Lowland Scot. He isa different race, and is quite a different man. You would not likehim, Adam. "

"I know him. He is a fine fellow; quiet, cool-blooded, has little tosay, and wastes no strength in emotion. There's wisdom for you--but goon with thy talk, woman; it hurts me, but I must hear it to the end. "

"Well, then, Kenneth McLeod has the appearance of a gentleman, thoughhe is only a trader. "

"Say _smuggler_, Rahal, and you might call him by a truer name. "

"Many whisper the same word. Of a smuggler, a large proportion of ourpeople think no wrong. That you know. He is a kind of hero to somegirls. Many grand parties these McLeods give--music and dancing, andeating and drinking, and the young officers of the garrison are there, as well as our own gay young men; and where these temptations are, young women are sure to go. His aunt is mistress of his house. 

"Now, then, this thing happened when Boris was last here. One night heheard two men talking as they went down the street before him. Therain was pattering on the flagged walk and he did not well understandtheir conversation, but it was altogether of the McLeods and theirentertainments. Suddenly he heard the name of Sunna Vedder. Thrice heheard it, and he followed the men to the public house, called forwhiskey, sat down at a table near them and pretended to be writing. But he grew more and more angry as he heard the free and easy talk ofthe men; and when again they named Sunna, he put himself into theirconversation and so learned they were going to McLeod's as soon as thehour was struck for the dance. Boris permitted them to go, laughingand boastful; an hour afterwards he followed. "

"With whom did he go?"

"Alone he went. The dance was then in progress, and men and women wereconstantly going in and out. He followed a party of four, and went inwith them. There was a crowd on the waxed floor. They were dancing anew measure called the polka; and conspicuous, both for her beauty andher dress, he saw Sunna among them. Her partner was Kenneth McLeod, and he was in full McLeod tartans. No doubt have I that Sunna and herhandsome partner made a romantic and lovely picture. "

"What must be the end of all this? What the devil am I to think?"

"Think no worse than needs be. "

"What did Boris do--or say?"

"He walked rapidly to Sunna, and he said, 'Miss Vedder, thou artwanted at thy home--at once thou art wanted. Get thy cloak, and I willwalk with thee. '"

"Then?"

"She was angry, and yet terrified; but she left the room. Boris fearedshe would try and escape him, so he went to the door to meet her. Judge for thyself what passed between them as Boris took her home. Atfirst she was angry, afterwards, she cried and begged Boris not totell thee. I am sure Boris was kind to her, though he told her franklyshe was on a dangerous road. All this I had from Boris, and it is thetruth; as for what reports have grown from it, I give them no heed. Sunna was deceitful and imprudent. I would not think worse of her thanshe deserves. "

"Rahal, I am much thy debtor. This affair I will now take into my ownhands. To thee, my promise stands good for all my life days--and thoumay tell Boris, it may be worth his while to forgive Sunna. There issome fault with him also; he has made love to Sunna for a long time, but never yet has he said to me--'I wish to make Sunna my wife!' Whatis the reason of that?"

"Well, then, Adam, a young man wishes to make sure of himself. Borisis much from home----"

"There it is! For that very cause, he should have made a straightclear road between us. I do not excuse Sunna, but I say that whereverthere is a cross purpose, there has likely never been a straight one. Thou hast treated me well, and I am thy debtor; but it shall be illwith all those who have led my child wrong--the more so, because thetime chosen for their sinful deed makes it immeasurably more sinful. "

"The time? What is thy meaning? The time was the usual hour of allentertainments. Even two hours after the midnight is quite respectableif all else is correct. "

"Art thou so forgetful of the God-Man, who at this time carried theburden of all our sins?"

"Oh! You mean it is Lent, Adam?"

"Yes! It is Lent!"

"I was never taught to regard it. "

"Yet none keep Lent more strictly than Conall Ragnor. "

"A wife does not always adopt her husband's ideas. I had a father, Adam, uncles and cousins and friends. None of them kept Lent. Dostthou expect me to be wiser than all my kindred?"

"I do. "

"Let us cease this talk. It will come to nothing. "

"Then good-bye. "

"Be not hard on Sunna. One side only, has been heard. "

"As kindly as may be, I will do right. "

Then Adam went away, but he left Rahal very unhappy. She had disobeyedher husband's advice and she could not help asking herself if shewould have been as easily persuaded to tell a similar story about herown child. "Thora is a school girl yet, " she thought, "but she is justentering the zone of temptation. "

In the midst of this reflection Thora came into the room. Her motherlooked into her lovely face with a swift pang of fear. It was radiantwith a joy not of this world. A light from an interior sourceillumined it; a light that wreathed with smiles the pure, childlikelips. "Oh, if she could always remain so young, and so innocent! Oh, if she never had to learn the sorrowful lessons that love alwaysteaches!"

Thus Rahal thought and wished. She forgot, as she did so, that womencome into this world to learn the very lessons love teaches, and thatunless these lessons are learned, the soul can make no progress, butmust remain undeveloped and uninstructed, even until the very end ofthis session of its existence. 

CHAPTER III

ARIES THE RAM

 O Christ whose Cross began to bloom With peaceful lilies long ago; Each year above Thy empty tomb More thick the Easter garlands grow. O'er all the wounds of this sad strife Bright wreathes the new immortal life. 

 Thus came the word: Proclaim the year of the Lord! And so he sang in peace; Under the yoke he sang, in the shadow of the sword, Sang of glory and release. The heart may sigh with pain for the people pressed and slain, The soul may faint and fall: The flesh may melt and die--but the Voice saith, Cry! And the Voice is more than all. --CARL SPENCER. 

It was Saturday morning and the next day was Easter Sunday. The littletown of Kirkwall was in a state of happy, busy excitement, for thoughthe particular house cleaning of the great occasion was finished, every housewife was full laden with the heavy responsibility offeeding the guests sure to arrive for the Easter service. Even RahalRagnor had both hands full. She was expecting her sister-in-law, Madame Barbara Brodie by that day's boat, and nobody ever knew howmany guests Aunt Barbara would bring with her. Then if her own homewas not fully prepared to afford them every comfort, she would be sureto leave them at the Ragnor house until all was in order. Certainlyshe had said in her last letter that she was not "going to be imposedupon, by anyone this spring"--and Thora reminded her mother of thisfact. 

"Dost thou indeed believe thy aunt's assurances?" asked Rahal. "Hastthou not seen her break them year after year? She will either ask someEdinburgh friend to come back to Kirkwall with her, or she will pickup someone on the way home. Is it not so?"

"Aunt generally leaves Edinburgh alone. It is the people she picks upon her way home that are so uncertain. Dear Mother, can I go now tothe cathedral? The flowers are calling me. "

"Are there many flowers this year?"

"More than we expected. The Balfour greenhouse has been stripped andthey have such a lovely company of violets and primroses and whitehyacinths with plenty of green moss and ivy. The Baikies have ahothouse and have such roses and plumes of curled parsley to putbehind them, and lilies-of-the-valley; and I have robbed thygreenhouse, Mother, and taken all thy fairest auriculas andcyclamens. "

"They are for God's altar. All I have is His. Take what vases thouwants, but Helga must carry them for thee. "

"And, Mother, can I have the beautiful white Wedgewood basket for thealtar? It looked so exquisite last Easter. "

"It now belongs to the altar. I gave it freely last Easter. I promisedthen that it should never hold flowers again for any meaner festival. Take whatever thou wants for thy purpose, and delay me no longer. Ihave this day to put two days' work into one day. " Then she lifted hereyes from the pastry she was making and looking at Thora, asked: "Artthou not too lightly clothed?"

"I have warm underclothing on. Thou would not like me to dress God'saltar in anything but pure white linen? All that I wear has been madespotless for this day's work. "

"That is right, but now thou must make some haste. There is nocertainty about Aunt Barbie. She may be at her home this veryminute. "

"The boat is not due until ten o'clock. "

"Not unless Barbara Brodie wanted to land at seven. Then, if shewished, winds and waves would have her here at seven. Her wishesfollow her like a shadow. Go thy way now. Thou art troubling me. Ibelieve I have put too much sugar in the custard. "

"But that would be a thing incredible. " Then Thora took a hasty kiss, and went her way. A large scarlet cloak covered her white linen dress, and its hood was drawn partially over her head. In her hands shecarried the precious Wedgewood basket, and Helga and her daughter hadcharge of the flowers and of several glass vases for their reception. In an hour all Thora required had been brought safely to the vestry ofSaint Magnus, and then she found herself quite alone in this grand, dim, silent House of God. 

In the meantime Aunt Barbara Brodie had done exactly as Rahal Ragnoranticipated. The boat had made the journey in an abnormally shorttime. A full sea, and strong, favourable winds, had carried herthrough the stormiest Firth in Scotland, at a racer's speed; and shewas at her dock, and had delivered all her passengers when ConallRagnor arrived at his warehouse. Then he had sent word to Rahal, andconsequently she ventured on the prediction that "Aunt Barbara mightalready be at her home. "

However, it had not been told the Mistress of Ragnor, that hersister-in-law had actually "picked up someone on the way"; and thatfor this reason she had gone directly to her own residence. For onthis occasion, her hospitality had been stimulated by a remarkablyhandsome young man, who had proved to be the son of Dr. John Macrae, asomewhat celebrated preacher of the most extreme Calvinist type. Sheheartily disapproved of the minister, but she instantly acknowledgedthe charm of his son; but without her brother's permission she thoughtit best not to hazard his influence over the inexperienced Thora. 

"I am fifty-two years old, " she thought, "and I know the measure of aman's deceitfulness, so I can take care of myself, but Thora is achildlike lassie. It would not be fair to put her in danger withoutword or warning. The lad has a wonderful winning way with women. "

So she took her fascinating guest to her own residence, and when hehad been refreshed by a good breakfast, he frankly said to her:

"I came here on special business. I have a large sum of money todeliver, and I think I will attend to that matter at once. "

"I will not hinder thee, " said Mrs. Brodie, "I'm no way troubled totake care of my own money, but it is just an aggravation to take careof other folks' siller. And who may thou be going to give a 'large sumof money' to, in Kirkwall town? I wouldn't wonder if the party isn'tmy own brother, Captain Conall Ragnor?"

"No, Mistress, " the young man replied. "It belongs to a younggentleman called McLeod. "

"Humph! A trading man is whiles very little of a gentleman. What doyou think of McLeod?"

"I am the manager of his Edinburgh business, so I cannot discuss hispersonality. "

"That's right, laddie! Folks seldom see any good thing in theiremployer; and it is quite fair for them to be just as blind to any badthing in him--but I'll tell you frankly that your employer has not afirst rate reputation here. "

"All right, Mistress Brodie! His reputation is not in my charge--onlyhis money. I do not think the quality of his reputation can hurtmine. "

"Your father's reputation will stand bail for yours. Well now, runaway and get business off your mind, and be back here for one o'clockdinner. I will not wait a minute after the clock chaps one. Thisafternoon I am going to my brother's house, and I sent him a messagewhich asks for permission to bring you with me. "

"Thanks!" but he said the word in an unthankful tone, and then helooked into Mistress Brodie's face, and she laughed and imitated hisexpression, as she assured him "she had no girl with matrimonialintentions in view. "

"You see, Mistress, " he said, "I do not intend to remain longer than aweek. Why should I run into danger? I am ready to take heartaches. Canyou tell me how best to find McLeod's warehouse?"

"Speir at any man you meet, and any man will show you the place. I, myself, am not carin' to send folk an ill road. "

So Ian Macrae went into the town and easily found his friend andemployer. Then their business was easily settled and it appeared to beevery way gratifying to both men. 

"You have taken a business I hate off my hands, Ian, " said McLeod, "and I am grateful to you. Where shall we go today? What would youlike to do with yourself?"

"Why, Kenneth, I would like first of all to see the inside of yourgrand cathedral. I would say, it must be very ancient. "

"Began in A. D. , 1138. Is that old?"

"Seven hundred years! That will do for age. They were good buildersthen. I have a strange love for these old shrines where multitudeshave prayed for centuries. They are full of _Presence_ to me. "

"_Presence. _ What do you mean?"

"Souls. "

"You are a creepy kind of mortal. I think, Ian, if you were not such agodless man, you might have been a saint. "

Macrae drew his lips tight, and then said in detached words--"Myfather is--sure--I--was--born--at--the--other--end--of--the--measure. "

Then they were in the interior of the cathedral. The light was dim, the silence intense, and both men were profoundly affected byinfluences unknown and unseen. As they moved slowly forward into thenave, the altar became visible, and in this sacred place of CommunionThora was moving slowly about, leaving beauty and sweetness wherevershe lingered. 

Her appearance gave both men a shock and both expressed it by aspasmodic breath. They spoke not; they watched her slim, white figurepass to-and-fro with soft and reverent steps, arranging violets andwhite hyacinths with green moss in the exquisite white Wedgewood. Thenwith a face full of innocent joy she placed it upon the altar, and fora few moments stood with clasped hands, looking at it. 

As she did so, the organist began to practice his Easter music, andshe turned her face towards the organ. Then they saw fully abeautiful, almost childlike face transfigured with celestialemotions. 

"Let us get out of this, " whispered McLeod. "What business have wehere? It is a kind of sacrilege. " And Ian bowed his head and followedhim. But it was some minutes ere the every-day world became present totheir senses. McLeod was the first to speak:--

"What an experience!" he sighed. "I should not dare to try it often. It would send me into a monastery. "

"Are you a Roman Catholic?"

"What else would I be? When I was a lad, I used to dream of being amonk. It was power I wanted. I thought then, that priests had morepower than any other men; as I grew older I found out that it wasmoney that owned the earth. "

"Not so!" said Ian sharply, "'the earth is the Lord's, and the fulnessthereof. ' I promised to be at Mistress Brodie's for dinner at oneo'clock. What is the time?"

McLeod took out his watch:--"You have twenty minutes, " he said. "I wasjust going to tell you that the girl we saw in the cathedral is herniece. "

Ian had taken a step or two in the direction of the Brodie house, buthe turned his head, and with a bright smile said, "Thank you, Ken!"and McLeod watched him a moment and then with a sigh softlyejaculated: "What a courteous chap he is--when he is in the mood to becourteous--and what a ---- when he is not in the mood. "

Ian was at the Brodie house five minutes before one, and he foundMistress Brodie waiting for him. "I am glad that you have kept yourtryst, " she said. "We will just have a modest bite now, and we canmake up all that is wanting here, at my brother Coll's, a littlelater. I have a pleasant invite for yourself. My good sister-in-lawhas read some of your father's sermons in the Sunday papers andmagazines, and for their sake she will be glad to see you. I justpromised for you. "

"Thank you, I shall be glad to go with you, " and it was difficult forhim to disguise how more than glad he was to have this opportunity. 

"So then, you will put on the best you have with you--the best is nonetoo good to meet Thora in. "

"Thora?"

"Thora Ragnor, my own niece. She is the bonniest and the best girl inScotland, if you will take me as a judge of girls. 'Good beyond thelave of girls, ' and so Bishop Hadley asked her special to dress thealtar for Easter. He knew there would be no laughing and daffing aboutthe work, if Thora Ragnor had the doing of it. "

"Is there any reason to refrain from laughing and daffing while atthat work?"

"At God's altar there should be nothing but prayer and praise. Youknow what girls talk and laugh about. If they have not some poor ladto bring to worship, or to scorn, they have no heart to help theirhands; and the work is done silent and snappy. They are wishing theywere at home, and could get their straight, yellow hair on tocrimping pins, because Laurie or Johnny would be coming to see them, it being Saturday night. "

"Then the Bishop thought your niece would be more reverent?"

"He knew she would. He knew also, that she would not be afraid to bein the cathedral by herself, she would do the work with her own hands, and that there would be no giggling and gossiping and no young ladsneeded to hold vases and scissors and little balls of twine. "

Their "moderate bite" was a pleasant lingering one. They talked ofpeople in Edinburgh with whom they had some kind of a mutualacquaintance, and Mistress Brodie did the most of the talking. She wasa charming story-teller, and she knew all the good stories about theUniversity and its great professors. This day she spent the timeillustrating John Stuart Blackie taking his ease in a dressing gownand an old straw hat. She made you see the man, and Ian felt refreshedand cheered by the mental vision. As for Lord Roseberry, he really satat their "modest bite" with them. "You know, laddie, " she said, "Scotsmen take their politics as if they were the Highland fling; andRoseberry was Scotland's idol. He was an orator who carried every soulwith him, whether they wanted to go or not; and I was told by J. M. Barrie, that once when he had fired an audience to the delirium point, an old man in the hall shouted out:--'I dinna hear a word; but it'sgrand; it's grand!'"

They barely touched on Scottish religion. Mistress Brodie easily sawit was a subject her guest did not wish to discuss, and she shut itoff from conversation, with the finality of her remark that "somepeople never understood Scotch religion, except as outsidersmisunderstood it. Well, Ian, I will be ready for our visit in abouttwo hours; one hour to rest after eating and a whole hour to dressmyself and lecture the lasses anent behaving themselves when they areleft to their own idle wishes and wasteful work. "

"Then in two hours I will be ready to accompany you; and in themeantime I will walk over the moor and smoke a cigar. "

"No, no, better go down to the beach and watch the puffins flying overthe sea, and the terns fishing about the low lying land. Or you mightget a sight of an Arctic skua going north, or a black guillemot with afish in its mouth flying fast to feed its young. The seaside is theplace, laddie! There is something going on there constantly. "

So Ian went to the seaside and found plenty of amusement there inwatching a family quarrel among the eider ducks, who were feeding onthe young mussels attached to the rocks which a low tide haduncovered. 

It was a pleasant walk to the Ragnor home, and Rahal and Thora wereexpecting them. The sitting room was cheery with sunshine and fireglow, Rahal was in afternoon dress and Thora was sitting near thewindow spinning on the little wheel the marvellously fine threads ofwool made from the dwarfish breed of Shetland sheep, and usedgenerally for the knitting of those delicate shawls which rivalled thefinest linen laces. On the entrance of her aunt and Ian Macrae sherose and stood by her wheel, until the effusive greetings of the twoelder ladies were complete; and Ian was utterly charmed with thepicture she made--it was completely different from anything he hadever seen or dreamed about. 

The wheel was a pretty one, and was inlaid with some bright metal, andwhen Thora rose from her chair she was still holding a handful of finesnowy wool. Her blue-robed and blue-eyed loveliness appeared to fillthe room as she stood erect and smiling, watching her mother andaunt. But when her aunt stepped forward to introduce Ian to her, sheturned the full light of her lovely countenance upon him. Then bothwondered where they had met before. Was it in dreams only?

Mother and aunt were soon deep in the fascinating gossip of anEdinburgh winter season, and Thora and Ian went into the greenhouseand the garden and found plenty to talk about until Conall Ragnorcame home from business and supper was served. And the wonder was, that Conall bent to the young man's charm as readily as Thora haddone. He was amazed at his shrewd knowledge of business methodsand opportunities; and listened to him with grave attention, thoughlaughing heartily at some of his plans and propositions. 

"Mr. Macrae, " he said, "thou art too far north for me. I do know a fewShetlanders that could pare the skin off thy teeth, but we Orcadeansare simple honest folk that just live, and let live. " At which remarkIan laughed, and reminded Conall Ragnor of certain transactions inrailway stock which had nonplussed the Perth directors at the time. Then Ragnor asked how he happened to know what was generallyconsidered "private information, " and Ian answered, "Privateinformation is the most valuable, sir. It is what I look for. " ThenRagnor rose from the table and said, "Let us have a smoke and a littlemusic. "

"Take thy smoke, Coll, " said Mrs. Ragnor, "and Mr. Macrae will give usthe music. Barbara says he sings better than Harrison. Come, Mr. Macrae, we are waiting to hear thee. "

Ian made no excuses. He sat down and sang with delightful charm andspirit "A Life on the Ocean Wave" and "The Bay of Biscay. " Then thesewere followed by the fresh and then popular songs, "We May Be HappyYet, " "Then You'll Remember Me" and "The Land of Our Birth. " No onespoke or interrupted him, even to praise; but he was well repaid bythe look on every face and the kindness that flowed out to him. Hecould see it in the eyes, and hear it in the voices, and feel it inthe manner of all present. 

The silence was broken by the sound of quick, firm footsteps. Ragnorlistened a moment and then went with alacrity to open the door. "Iknew it was thee!" he cried. "O sir, I am glad to see thee! Come in, come in! None can be more welcome!" And it was good to hear thestrong, sweet modulations of the voice that answered him. 

"It is Bishop Hedley!" said Rahal. 

"Then I am going, " said Aunt Barbara. 

"No, no, Aunt!" cried Thora, and the next moment she was at her aunt'sside coaxing her to resume her chair. Then the Bishop and Ragnorentered the room, and the moment the Bishop's face shone upon them, all talk about leaving the room ceased. For Bishop Hedley carried hisGreat Commission in his face and his life was a living sermon. Hissoul loved all mankind; and he had with it an heroic mind and astrong-sinewed body, which refused to recognise the fact that it dieddaily. For the Bishop's business was with the souls of men, and helived and moved and did his daily work in a spiritual and eternalelement. 

And if constant commerce with the physical world weakens and ages theman who lives and works in it, surely the life passed amid spiritualthoughts and desires is thereby fortified and strengthened to resistthe cares and worries which fret the physical body to decay. Thenvainly the flesh fades, the soul makes all things new. This is a greattruth--"it is only by the supernatural we are strong. "

The Bishop came in bringing with him, not only the moral tonic of hispresence, but also the very breath of the sea; its refreshing "tang, "and good salt flavour. His smile and blessing was a spiritual sunshinethat warmed and cheered and brightened the room. He was affectionateto all, but to Mistress Brodie and Ian Macrae, he was even more kindlythan to the Ragnors. They were not of his flock but he longed to takecare of them. 

"I heard singing as I came through the garden, " he said, "and it wasnot your voice, Conall. "

"It was Ian Macrae singing, " Conall answered, "and he will gladly singfor thee, sir. " This promise Macrae ratified at once, and that withsuch power and sweetness that every one was amazed and the Bishoprequested him to sing, during the next day's service, a fine "Gloria"he had just given them in the cathedral choir. And Ian said he wouldsee the organist, and if it could be done, he would be delighted toobey his request. 

"See the organist!" exclaimed Mistress Brodie. "What are you talkingabout? The organist is Sandy Odd, the barber's son! How can the likeof him hinder the Bishop's wish?" Then the Bishop wrote a few words inhis pocket book, tore out the leaf, and gave it to Macrae, saying:"Mr. Odd will manage all I wish, no doubt. Now, sir, for my greatpleasure, play us 'Home, Sweet Home. ' I have not been here for fourmonths, and it is good to be with friends again. " And they all sang ittogether, and were perfectly at home with each other after it. So muchso, that the Bishop asked Rahal to give him a cup of tea and a littlebread; "I have come from Fair Island today, " he said, "and have noteaten since noon. "

Then all the women went out together to prepare and serve therequested meal, so that it came with wonderful swiftness, and beamingsmiles, and charming words of laughing pleasure. And when he saw alittle table drawn to the hearth for him and quickly spread with thefood he needed and smelled the refreshing odour of the young Hyson, and heard the pleasant tinkle of china and glass and silver as Thoraplaced them before the large chair he was to occupy, he sat downhappily to eat and drink, while Thora served him, and Conall smokedand watched them with a now-and-then smile or word or two, while Rahaland Barbara talked, and Ian played charmingly--with soft pedaldown--quotations from Beethoven's "Pastoral Symphony" and "Hark, 'Tisthe Linnet!" from the oratorio, "Joshua. "

It was a delightful interlude in which every one was happy in theirown way, and so healed by it of all the day's disappointments andweariness. But the wise never prolong such perfect moments. Even whileyielding their first satisfactions, they permit them to depart. It isa great deal to _have been happy_. Every such memory sweetens afterlife. 

The Bishop did not linger over his meal, and while servants wereclearing away cups and plates, he said, "Come, all of you, outside, for a few minutes. Come and look at the Moon of Moons! The EasterMoon! She has begun to fill her horns; and she is throwing over themystery and majesty of earth and sea a soft silvery veil as shewatches for the dawn. The Easter dawn! that in a few hours will comestreaming up, full of light and warmth for all. "

But there was not much warmth in an Orcadean April evening and theparty soon returned to the cheerful, comfortable hearth blaze. "It isnot so beautiful as the moonlight, " said Rahal, "but it is verygood. "

"True, " said the Bishop, "and we must not belittle the good we have, because we look for something better. Let us be thankful for our feet, though they are not wings. "

Then one of those sudden, inexplicable "arrests" which seem to sealup speech fell over every one, and for a minute or more no one couldspeak. Rahal broke the spell. "Some angel has passed through the room. Please God he left a blessing! Or perhaps the moonlight has thrown aspell over us. What were you thinking of, Bishop?"

"I will tell you. I was thinking of the first Good Friday in OldJerusalem. I was thinking of the sun hiding his face at noonday. Thora, have you an almanac?"

Thora took one from a nail on which it was hanging and gave it tohim. 

"I was thinking that the sun, which hid his face at noonday, must atthat time have been in Aries, the Ram. Find me the signs of theZodiac. " Thora did so. "Now look well at Aries the Ram. What month ofour year is signed thus?"

"The month of March, sir. "

"Why?"

"I do not know. Tell me, sir. "

"I believe that in a long forgotten age, some priest or good manreceived a promise or prophecy revealing the Great Sacrifice thatwould be offered up for man's salvation once and for all time. And Ithink they knew that this plenary sacrament would occur in the vernalseason, in the month of March, whose sign or symbol was Aries, theRam. "

"But why under that sign, sir?"

"The ram, to the ancient world, was the sacrificial animal. We haveonly to open our Bibles and be amazed at the prominence given to theram and his congeners. From the time of Abraham until the time ofChrist the ram is constantly present in sacrificial and religiousceremonies. Do you remember, Thora, any incident depending upon aram?"

"When Isaac was to be sacrificed, a ram caught in a thicket wasaccepted by God in Isaac's place, as a burnt offering. "

"More than once Abraham offered a ram in sacrifice. In Exodus, ChapterTwenty-ninth, special directions are given for the offering of a ramas a burnt offering to the Lord. In Leviticus, the Eighth Chapter, abullock is sacrificed for a sin offering but a ram for a burntoffering. In Numbers we are told of _the ram of atonement_ which a manis to offer, when he has done his neighbour an injury. In Ezra, theTenth, the ram is offered for a trespass because of an unlawfulmarriage. On the accession of Solomon to the throne one thousand ramswith bullocks and lambs were 'offered up with great gladness. ' In theOld Testament there are few books in which the sacrificial ram is notmentioned. Even the horn of the ram was constantly in evidence, for itcalled together all religious and solemn services. 

"A little circumstance, " continued the Bishop, "that pleases me toremember occurred in Glasgow five weeks ago. I saw a crowd entering alarge church, and I asked a workingman, who was eating his lunchoutside the building, the name of the church; and he answered, --'It'sjust the auld Ram's Horn Kirk. They are putting a new minister in thepulpit today and they seem weel pleased wi' their choice. '

"Now I am going to leave this subject with you. I have only indicatedit. Those who wish to do so, can finish the list, for the half has notbeen told, and indeed I have left the most significant ceremony untilthe last. It is that wonderful service in the Sixteenth Chapter ofLeviticus, where the priest, after making a sin offering of youngbullocks and a burnt offering of a ram, casts lots upon two goats fora sin offering, and the goat upon which the lot falls is 'presentedalive before the Lord to make an atonement; and to let him go for ascapegoat into the wilderness. '"

Then he took from his pocket a little book and said, "Listen to theend of this service, 'And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the headof the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of theChildren of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away, bythe hand of a fit man into the wilderness. 

"'And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a landnot inhabited; and he shall let go the goat in the wilderness. '

"My friends, this night let all read the Fifty-third of Isaiah, andthey will understand how fitting it was that Christ should be 'offeredup' in Aries the Ram, the sacrificial month representing the shadowsand types of which He was the glorious arch-type. "

Then there was silence, too deeply charged with feeling, for words. The Bishop himself felt that he could speak on no lesser subject, andhis small audience were lost in wonder at the vast panorama ofcenturies, day by day, century after century, through all of which Godhad remembered that He had promised He would provide the Great andFinal Sacrifice for mankind's justification. Then Aries the Ram wouldno longer be a promise. It would be a voucher forever that the Promisehad been redeemed, and a memorial that His Truth and His mercyendureth forever!

At the door the Bishop said to Ragnor, "In a few hours, Friend Conall, it will be Easter Morning. Then we can tell each other '_Christ hasrisen_!'" And Conall's eyes were full of tears, he could not find hisvoice, he looked upward and bowed his head. 

CHAPTER IV

SUNNA AND HER GRANDFATHER

 Love is rich in his own right, He is heir of all the spheres, In his service day and night, Swing the tides and roll the years. What has he to ask of fate? Crown him; glad or desolate. 

 Time puts out all other flames, But the glory of his eyes; His are all the sacred names, His are all the mysteries. Crown him! In his darkest day He has Heaven to give away! --CARL SPENCER. 

 Arms are fair, When the intent for bearing them is just. 

In the meantime Sunna was spending the evening with her grandfather. The old gentleman was reading, but she did not ask him to read aloud, she knew by the look and size of the book that it would not beinteresting; and she was well pleased when one of her maids desiredto speak with her. 

"Well then, Vera, what is thy wish?"

"My sister was here and she was bringing me some strange news. AboutMistress Brodie she was talking. "

"Yes, I heard she had come home. Did she bring Thora Ragnor a newEaster gown?"

"Of a gown I heard nothing. It was a young man she brought! O sobeautiful is he! And like an angel he sings! The Bishop was veryfriendly with him, and the Ragnors, also; but they, indeed! they arefriendly with all kinds of people. "

"This beautiful young man, is he staying with the Ragnors?"

"With Mistress Brodie he is staying, and with her he went to dinner atthe Ragnors'. And the Bishop was there and the young man was singing, and a great deal was made of his singing, also they were speaking ofhis father who is a famous preacher in some Edinburgh kirk, and----"

"These things may be so, but how came thy sister to know them?"

"This morning my sister took work with Mistress Ragnor and she waswaiting on them as they eat; and in and out of the room until nineo'clock. Then, as she went to her own home, she called on me and wetalked of the matter, and it seemed to my thought that more might comeof it. "

"Yes, no doubt. I shall see that more does come of it. I am wellpleased with thee for telling me. "

Then she went back to her grandfather and resumed her knitting. Anon, she began to sing. Her face was flushed and her nixie eyes weredancing to the mischief she contemplated. In a few minutes the oldgentleman lifted his head, and looked at her. "Sunna, " he said, "thysong and thy singing are charming, but they fit not the book I amreading. "

"Then I will stop singing and thou must talk to me. There has comenews, and I want thy opinion on it. The Ragnors had a dinner partytoday, and we were not asked. "

"A great lie is that! Conall Ragnor would not give Queen Victoria aparty in Lent. Who told thee such foolishness?"

Then Sunna retailed the information given her and asked, "What hastthou done to Conall Ragnor? Always before he bid thee to dinner whenthe Bishop was at his house? Or perhaps the offence is with RahalRagnor? Not long ago thou spent an afternoon with her and black anddangerous as a thunder storm thou came home. "

"This day the dinner was an accidental gathering. Rahal knows wellthat I have no will to dine with Mistress Brodie. Dost thou want herhere, as thy stepmother?"

"If Mistress Brodie is not tired of an easy life, she will turn herfeet away from this house. If Sunna cannot please thee, thou art indanger of worse happening. Yes, many are guessing who it is thou wiltmarry. "

"And which way runs the guessing?"

"Not all one way. For thee, that is not a respectable thing. Thoushould not be named with so many old women. "

"I am of thy opinion. An old woman is little to my mind. If I trustmarriage again, I will choose a young girl for my wife--such an one asTreddie Fae, or Thora Ragnor. "

"Thora Ragnor! Dreaming thou art! I am sure Barbara Brodie has broughtthis young man here for Thora's approval. Can thou stand against ayoung man?"

"Yes. Adam Vedder and fifty thousand pounds can hand any young man hishat and gloves. Thy father's father is not for thee to make a jestabout. So here our talk shall come to an end on this subject. Go tothy bed! Sleep, and the Good Being bless thee!"

Sunna was not yet inclined to sleep. She sat down before her mirror, uncoiled her plentiful hair, and carefully brushed and braided it forthe night, as she considered the news that had come to her. 

"This beautiful young man, this singing man, is one of BarbaraBrodie's 'finds. ' Not much do I think of any of them! That handsomescholar she brought here turned out an unbearable encumbrance. Ibelieve she paid him to go back to Edinburgh. That Aberdeen man, whowanted to invest money in Kirkwall had to borrow two pounds fromgrandfather to take him back to where he came from. That witty, good-looking Irishman left a big bill at the Castle Hotel for some oneto pay; and the woman who wanted to begin a dressmaking business, onthe good will of people like Barbara Brodie, knew nothing aboutdressmaking. This beautiful young man, I'll warrant, is a fish out ofthe same net. As for the Bishop being taken with his beauty, that isnothing! The poorer a man is, the better Bishop Hedley will like him. So it goes! I wish I knew where Boris Ragnor is--I wish----

"Pshaw! I wonder what kind of a dress Mistress Barbara Brodie broughtThora. Not much taste in either men or clothes has she! Too largewill the pattern be, or too strong the colours, and too heavy, ortoo light, will be the material. I know! And it will not fit her. Too big, or too little it is sure to be! With my own dress I amsatisfied. And if grandfather asks no questions about it, I shallcount it a lucky dress and save it till Boris comes home. I amgoing to forgive him when he comes home--perhaps----Now I will putthe hopes and worries of this world under my pillow and be off tothe Land of Dreams----Tomorrow is Sunday, Easter Sunday--I shallsing the solo in my new dress--that is good, I like a religiousfeeling in a new dress--I think I am rather a religious girl. "

Alas for the hopes of all who wanted to dress for Easter. It was anuncompromising, wet day. It was oil skin and rubber for the men; itwas cloaks and pattens and umbrellas for the women. Yet, aside fromthe rain, it was a day full of good things. The cathedral was crowded, there was full cathedral service, and the Bishop preached atransfiguring sermon. The music was good, the home choir did well, andSunna's solo was effectively sung; but after she had heard IanMacrae's "Gloria, " she was sorry she had sung at all. 

"Grandfather!" she commented, "No private person has a right to singas that man sings! After him, non-professionals make a show ofthemselves. "

"Thou sang well--better than usual, I thought. "

"I was told he was such a handsome young man! And he has black hairand black eyes! Even his skin is dark. He looks like a Celt. I don'tlike Celts. None of our people like them. When they come to thefishing they are not respected. "

"Thou art much mistaken. Our men like them. "

"Boris Ragnor says they are poor traders. "

"Well then, it is to fish they come. "

"What they come for is no care of mine. Boris is ten times more of aman than the best of them. No notice shall I take of this Celt. "

"Through thy scorn he may live, and even enjoy his life. The Englishofficers do that. "

"This chicken is better than might be. Wilt thou have a little more ofit?"

"Enough is plenty. I have had enough. At Conall Ragnor's there isalways good eating and I am going there for my supper. Wilt thou gowith me? Then with Thora thou can talk. This beautiful young man islikely at Ragnor's. It was too stormy for Mistress Brodie to go to herown house at the noonday. Dost thou see then, how it will be?"

"I will go with thee, I want to see Thora's new dress. I need notnotice the young man. "

"His name? Already I have forgotten it. "

"Odd was calling him 'Macrae. '"

"Macrae! That is Highland Scotch. The Macraes are a good family. Thereis a famous minister in Edinburgh of that name. The Calvinists allswear by him. "

"This man sang in a full cathedral service. Dost thou believe aCalvinist would do that? He would be sure it was a disguised mass, andnothing better. "

Adam laughed as he said, "Well, then, go with me this night toRagnor's and between us we will find something out. A mystery is notpleasant to thee. "

"There is something wrong in a mystery, that is what I feel. "

"Thou can ask Thora all about him. "

"I shall not ask her. She will tell me. "

Adam laughed again. "That is the best way, " he said. "It was thyfather's way. Well then, five minutes ago, the wind changed. By fouro'clock it will be fair. "

"Then I will be ready to go with thee. If I am left alone, I am sad;and that is not good for my health. "

"But thou must behave well, even to the Celt. "

"Unless it is worth my while, I do not quarrel with any one. "

"Was it worth thy while to quarrel with Boris Ragnor?"

"Yes--or I had not quarrelled with him. "

"Here comes the sunshine! Gleam upon gloom! Cheery and good it is!"

"They say an Easter dress should be christened with a few drops ofrain. That is not my opinion. I like the Easter sunshine on it. Now Ishall leave thee and go and rest and dress myself. Very good is thytalk and thy company to me, but to thee, I am foolishness. As I shutthe door, the big book thou art reading, thou wilt say to it: 'Now, friend of my soul, some sensible talk we will have together, for thatfoolish girl has gone to her foolishness at her looking glass. '"

"Run away! I am in a hurry for my big book. "

Sunna shut the door with a kiss--and as she took the stairs withhurrying steps, the sunshine came dancing through the long window, andher feet trod on it and it fell all over her. 

At four o'clock she was ready for her evening's inquest and she foundher grandfather waiting for her. He had put on a light vest and awhite tie, and he had that clean, healthy, good-tempered look thatpleases all women. He smiled and bowed to Sunna and she deserved thecompliment; for she was beautiful and had dressed her beauty mostbecomingly. Her gown was of Saxony cloth, the exact colour of herhair, with a collar, stomacher and high cuffs of pale green velvet. The collar was tied with cord and small tassels of gold braid; thestomacher laced with gold braid over small gilt buttons, and the highcuffs were trimmed to match. Very handsome gilt combs held up herrippled hair, and a large red-riding-hood cloak covered her from thecrowning bow of her hair to the little French pattens that protectedher black satin slippers. She expected to make a conquest, and herthoughts were usually the factors of success. 

A little disappointment awaited her. She was usually shown into theright-hand parlour at once, and she relied on the bit of colourafforded by her scarlet cloak to give life to the modest shades of herspring colours of pale fawn and tender green. But servants weresetting the dinner table in the right-hand parlour; and Conall andRahal and Aunt Barbara had taken themselves to Conall's littlebusiness room where there was a bright fire burning. There, in his bigchair, Conall was next door to sleeping; and Barbara and Rahal weretalking in a sleepy, mysterious way about something that did notappear to interest them. 

At the sound of Adam Vedder's voice, Conall became wide awake; andBarbara's face lighted up with a fresh interest. If there was nothingelse, there was a chronic quarrel between them, which Barbara wasready to lift at a moment's notice. But Sunna was not dissatisfied. Conall's quick look of admiration, and Rahal's and Barbara's glancesof surprise, were excellent in their way. She knew she had given thema subject of interest sufficient to make even the hour before dinnerappear short. 

"Where is Thora?" she asked, as she turned every way, apparently tolook for Thora, but really to allow her admirers to convincethemselves that her dress was trimmed as handsomely at the back as thefront--that if the stomacher was perfect in front, the sash of greenvelvet at the back was quite as stylish and elaborate. 

"Where _is_ Thora?" she asked again. 

"In the drawing room thou wilt find Thora with Ian Macrae, " saidRahal. "Go to them. They will be glad of thy company. "

"Doubtful is their gladness. Two are company, three are a crowd. Yetso it is! I must run into danger, like the rest of women. "

"Is that thy Easter gown, Sunna?" asked Mistress Brodie. 

"It is. Dost thou like it?"

"Who would not like it? The rumour goes abroad that thy grandfathersent to Inverness for it. Others say it came to thee from Edinburgh. "

"Wrong are both stories. I am happy to say that Sunna Vedder gaveherself a dress so pretty and so suitable. "

With these smiling words she left the room and the elder womenshrugged their shoulders and looked expressively at each other. "Whatcan a sensible man like Boris Ragnor see in such a harum-scarum girl!"was Rahal Ragnor's question, and Barbara Brodie thought it was allAdam Vedder's fault. "He ought to have married some sensible woman whowould have brought up the girl as girls ought to be brought up, " sheanswered; adding, "We may as well remember that the management ofwomen, at any age, is a business clean beyond Adam Vedder'scapabilities. "

"Adam is a clever man, Barbie. "

"Book clever! What is the use of book wisdom when you have a livegirl, full of her own way, to deal with?"

"Conall chose the husbands for his daughters. They were quite suitableto the girls and they have been very happy with them. "

"Thora will choose for herself. "

"Perhaps, that may be so. Thora has been spoiled. Her marriage neednot yet be thought of. In two or three years, we will consider it. Thelittle one has not yet any dreams of that kind. "

"Such dreams come in a moment--when you are not thinking of them. "

In fact, at that very moment Thora was learning the mystery of"falling in love"; and there is hardly a more vital thing in life thanthis act. For it is something taking place in the subconscious self;it is a revolution, and a growth. It happened that after dinner, Conall wished to hear Ian sing again that loveliest of all metricalCollects, "Lord of All Power and Might, " and Thora went with Ian to doher part as accompanist on the piano. As they sang Conall appeared tofall asleep, and no more music was asked for. 

Then Ian lifted a book full of illustrations of the English lakedistrict, and they sat down on the sofa to examine it. Ian had oncebeen at Keswick and Ambleside, and he began to tell her about LakeWindemere and these lovely villages. He was holding Thora's hand andglancing constantly into her face, and before he recognised what hewas saying, Ambleside and Windemere were quite forgotten, and he wastelling Thora that he loved her with an everlasting love. He vowedthat he had loved her in his past lives, and would love her, and onlyher, forever. And he looked so handsome and spoke in words of thesweetest tenderness, and indeed was amazed at his own passionateeloquence, but knew in his soul that every word he said was true. 

And Thora, the innocent little one, was equally sure of his truth. Sheblushed and listened, while he drew her closer to his side calling her"his own, his very own!" and begging her to promise that she would"marry him, and no other man, in the whole earth. "

And Thora promised him what he wished and for one-half hour they werein Paradise. 

Now, how could this love affair have come to perfection so rapidly?Because it was the natural and the proper way. True love dates itsbirth from the first glance. It is the coming together of two souls, and in their first contact love flashes forth like flame. And thentheir influence over each other is like that gravitation which onestar exerts over another star. 

But much that passes for love is not love. It is only a prepossession, pleasant and profitable, promising many every-day advantages. Truelove is a deep and elemental thing, a secret incredible glory, in away, it is even a spiritual triumph. And we should have another namefor love like this. For it is the long, long love, that has followedus through ages, the healing love, the Comforter! In the soul of ayoung, innocent girl like Thora, it is a kind of piety, and ought tobe taken with a wondering thankfulness. 

An emotion so spiritual and profound was beyond Sunna's understanding. She divined that there had been some sort of love-making, but she wasunfamiliar with its present indications. Her opinion, however, wasthat Ian had offered himself to Thora, and been rejected; in no otherway could she account for the far-offness of both parties. Thoraindeed was inexplicable. She not only refused to show Sunna her Easterdress, she would not enter into any description of it. 

"That is a very remarkable thing, " she said to her grandfather, asthey walked home together. "I think the young man made love to Thoraand even asked her to marry him, and Thora was frightened and said'No!' and she is likely sorry now that she did not say 'Yes. '"

"To say 'No!' would not have frightened thee, I suppose?"

"That is one of the disagreeable things women have to get used to. "

"How often must a woman say 'No!' in order to get used to it?"

"That depends on several small things; for instance I am verysympathetic. I have a tender heart! Yes, and so I suffer. "

"I am glad to know of thy sympathy. If I asked thee to marry a youngman whom I wished thee to marry, would thou do it--just to pleaseme?"

"It would depend--on my mood that day. "

"Say, it was thy sympathetic mood?"

"That would be unfavourable. Of the others I should think, and Ishould feel that I was cruel; if I took all hope from them. "

"Thou wilt not be reasonable. I am not joking. Would thou marry Boristo please me?"

"Boris has offended me. He must come to me, and say, 'I am sorry. ' Hemust take what punishment I choose for his rudeness to me. Then, I mayforgive him. "

"And marry him?"

"Only my angel knows, if it is so written. Men do not like to do astheir women say they must do. Is there any man in the Orcades whodares to say 'No, ' to his wife's 'Yes?'"

"What of Sandy Stark?"

"Sandy is a Scot! I do not use a Scotch measure for a Norseman. Thouart not a perfect Norseman, but yet, even in Edinburgh, there is noScot that could be thy measure. I should have to say--'thou art fiveinches taller than the Scot at thy side, and forty pounds heavier, andnearly twice as strong. ' That would not be correct to an ounce, but itis as near as it is possible to come between Norse and Scot. "

"Thou art romancing!"

"As for the Norse women----"

"About Norse women there is no need for thee to teach thy grandfather. I know what Norse women are like. If I did not know, I should havemarried again. "

"Well then, Barbara Brodie is a good specimen of a capable Norse womanand I have noticed one thing about them, that I feel ought to bebetter understood. "

"Chut! What hast thou understood? Talk about it, and let thy wisdom beknown. "

"Well then, it is this thing--Norse women always outlive theirhusbands. Thou may count by tens and hundreds the widows in this town. The 'maidens of blushing fifteen' have no opportunities; the widow offifty asks a young man into her beautiful home and makes himacquainted with the burden of her rents and dividends and her sharein half a dozen trading boats, and he takes to the golden lure andmarries himself like the rest of the world. Thou would have beenre-married long ago but for my protection. I have had a verydisagreeable day and----"

"Then go to thy bed and put an end to it. "

"My new dress is crushed and some way or other I have got a spot onthe front breadth. Is it that Darwin book thou art looking for?"

"Yes. "

"Would thou like to read a chapter to me?"

"No, I would not. "

"Grandfather, I can understand it. I like clever men. Can thouintroduce me to him--to Darwin?"

"He would not care to see thee. Clever men do not want clever wives;so if thou art thinking of a clever husband keep thy 'blue stockings'well under thy petticoats. "

"And grandfather, do thou keep out of the way of the widows of Orkneyor thou wilt find thyself inside of a marriage ring. "

"Not while thou remains unmarried. Few women would care to look afterthy welfare. I am used to it, long before thou had been short-coated, I had to walk thee to sleep in my arms. "

"Yes, " laughed Sunna, "I remember that. I felt myself safest withthee. "

"Thou remembers nothing of the kind. At six months old, thou couldneither compare nor remember. "

"But thou art mistaken. I was born with perfect senses. Ere I wastwenty-four hours old, I had selected thee as the most suitable personto walk me to sleep. I think that was a proof of my perfectintelligence. One thing more, and then I will let thee read. I amgoing to marry Boris Ragnor, and then the widow Brodie would--takecharge of thee. " She shut the door to these words and Adam heard herlaughing all the way to her own room. Then he rubbed his hand slowlyover and over his mouth and said to himself--"She shall have hersay-so; Boris is the only man on the Islands who can manage her. "

After the departure of the Vedders, Rahal and her sister Brodie wentupstairs, taking Thora with them. She went cheerfully though a littlereluctantly. She liked to hear Ian talk. She had thought of asking himto sing; but she was satisfied with the one straight, long look whichflashed between them, as Ian bid her "good night"; for--

 He looked at her as a lover can; She looked at him as one who awakes, The past was a sleep and her life began. 

Then she went to her room, and thought of Ian until she fell asleepand dreamed of him. 

For nearly two hours Ian remained with Conall Ragnor. The RailwayMania was then at its height in England, and the older man wasdelighted with Ian's daring stories of its mad excitement. Ian hadseen and talked with Hudson, the draper's clerk, who had justpurchased a fine ducal residence and estate from the results of hisreckless speculations. Ian knew all the Scotch lines, he had even fullfaith in the _Caledonian_ when it was first proposed and could hardlywin any attention. "Every one said a railway between England andScotland would not pay, Mr. Ragnor, " said Ian. 

"I would have said very different, " replied Conall. "It would becertain to pay. Why not?"

"Because there would be _no returns_, " laughed Ian, and then Conalllaughed also, and wished that Boris had been there to learn whateverIan might teach him. 

"Hast thou speculated in railway stock yet, " he asked. 

"No, sir. I have not had the money to do so. "

"How would thou buy if thou had?"

"I would buy when no one else was buying, and when everyone else wasbuying, I would keep cool, and sell. A very old and clever speculatorgave me that advice as a steady rule, saying it was 'his onlyguide. '"

This was the tenor of the men's conversation until near midnight, andthen Ragnor went with Ian to the door of his room and bid him a frankand friendly good night. And as he stood a moment handfast with theyouth, his conscience troubled him a little and he said: "Ian, Ian, thou art a wise lad about this world's business, but thou must not beforgetting that there is another world after this. "

"I do not forget that, sir. "

"Bishop Hedley is a greater and wiser man than all the railway nabobsthou hast spoken of. "

"I think so, sir! I do indeed!" and the mutual smile and nod thatfollowed required no further "good night. "

It was a lovely, silent night. The very houses looked as if they wereasleep; and there was not a sound either in the town on the brown pieror the moonlit sea. It was a night full of the tranquillity of God. Men and women looked into its peace, and carried its charm into theirdreams. For most fine spirits that dwell by the sea have an elementalsympathy with strange oracles and dreams and old Night. In themorning, Conall Ragnor was the first to awaken. He went at once tofling open his window. Then he cried out in amazement and wonder, andawakened his wife:--

"Rahal! Rahal!" he shouted. "Come here! Come quick! Look at the town!It is hung with flags. The ships in the harbour--flying are theirflags also! And there is a ship just entering the harbour and hercolours are flying! And there are the guns! They are saluting her fromthe garrison! It must be a man-of-war! I wonder if the Queen is comingto see us at last! If thou art ready, call Thora and Barbara. Something is up! Thou may hear the town now, all tip-on-top withexcitement!"

"Why did not thou call us sooner, Coll?"

"I slept late and long. "

"But thou must have heard the town noises?"

"A confused noise passed through my ears, a noise full of hurry like amorning dream, that was all. Now, I am going for my swim and I willbring the news home with me. "

But long before it was within expectation of Ragnor's return, thethree women standing at the open door saw Ian coming rapidly to thehouse from the town. His walk was swift and full of excitement. Hishead was thrown upward, and he kept striking himself on the rightside, just over the place where his ancestors had worn their dirks orbroadswords. As soon as he saw the three women he flung his Glengarryskyward and shouted a ringing "Hurrah!"

As he approached them, all were struck with his remarkable beauty, hismanly figure, his swift graceful movements and his handsome facesuffused with the brightness of fiery youth. Through their long blacklashes his eyes were shining and glowing and full of spirit, andindeed his whole personality was instinct with verve and fire. Anyonewatching his approach would have said--"Here comes a youth made tolead a rattling charge of cavalry. "

"Whatever is the matter with you, Ian?" cried Mistress Brodie. "Youare surely gone daft. "

"No indeed!" he answered. "I seem at this very hour to have just foundmyself and my senses. "

"What is all the fuss about, Ian?" asked Rahal. 

"England has gone to war at the long last with the cruel, crafty blackBear of the North. "

"Well then, it is full time she did so, there are none will saydifferent. "

"And, " continued Ian, "there is a ship now in harbour carryingenlisting officers--you may see her; she is to call at the Orkney andShetland Islands for recruits for the navy, and Great Scot! she willget them! All she wants! She could take every man out of Kirkwall!"

"The Mayor and Captain Ragnor will not permit her to do so. She willhave to leave men to manage the fishing, " said Rahal. 

"I thought the women could do that, " said Ian. 

"You do not know what you are talking about. It takes two or three mento lift a net full of fish out of the water, and they are about doneup if they manage it. Come in and get your breakfast. If your news betrue, there is no saying when Ragnor will get home. He will have somereasoning with his men to do, he cannot spare many of them. "

"I have a good idea, " said Mistress Brodie. "I will give a dance onFriday night for the enlisting officers, and we will invite all thepresentable young men, and all the prettiest girls, to meet them. "

"But you will be too late on Friday. The cutter and her crew willleave Thursday morning early, " said Ian. 

"Then say Wednesday night. "

"That might do. I could tell the men freshly enlisted to wear a whiteribbon in their coats----"

"No, no, no!" cried Rahal. "What are you saying, Ian? A white favouris a Stuart favour. You would set the men fighting in the very danceroom. There is no excuse in the Orkneys for a Stuart memory. "

"I was not thinking of the Stuarts. Have they not done botheringyet?"

"In the Scotch heart the Stuart lives forever, " said Rahal, with asigh. 

But the dance was decided on and some preparations made for it as soonas breakfast was over. Ian was enthusiastic on the matter and Thoracaught his enthusiasm very readily, and before night, all Kirkwall waspreparing to feast and rejoice because England was going to make thegreat Northern Bear--"the Bear that walks like a man"--stay in theNorth where he belonged. 

CHAPTER V

SUNNA AND THORA

 Love, the old, old troubler of the world. 

 Love has reasons, of which reason knows nothing. 

 Alas, how easily things go wrong! A sigh too much, or a kiss too long, And there follows a mist and a weeping rain And life is never the same again. 

No sooner was Mrs. Brodie's intention known, than all her friends wereeager to help her. There was truly but little time between Mondaymorning and Wednesday night; but many hands make light work, and oldand young offered their services in arranging for what it pleased allto consider as a kind of national thanksgiving. 

The unanimity of this kindness gave Rahal a slight attack of a certainform of jealousy, to which she had been subject for many years, andshe asked her husband, as she had done often before, "Why is it, Coll, that every woman in the town is eager to help and encourage Barbaraif she only speaks of having a dance or dinner; but if I, thy wife, amthe giver of pleasure, I am left to do all without help or any show ofinterest. It troubles me, Coll. "

And Coll answered as he always did answer--"It is thy superiority, Rahal. Is there any woman we know, who would presume to give theeadvice or counsel? And it is well understood by all of them that thoucannot thole an obligation. Thou, and thy daughter, and thy servantsare sufficient for all thy social plans; and why should thou bebothered with a lot of old and young women? Thy sister Brodie loves acrowd about her, and she says 'thank thee' to all and sundry, aseasily as she takes a drink of water. It chokes thee to say 'thanks'to any one. "

So Rahal was satisfied, and went with the rest to help Mistress Brodieprepare for her dance. There were women in the kitchen making pies andcustards and jellies, and women in her parlours cleaning anddecorating them, and women in the great hall taking up carpets becauseit was a favourite place for reels, and women washing China andtrimming lamps. Thora was doing the shopping, Ian was carrying theinvitations; and every one who had been favoured with one had notonly said "Yes, " but had also asked if there was anything they couldloan, or do, to help the impromptu festival. Thus, Mrs. Harold Baikiesent her best service of China, and the Faes sent several extra largelamps, and the bride of Luke Serge loaned her whole supply ofglassware, and Rahal took over her stock of table silver; and MistressBrodie received every loan--useful or not--with the utmost delight andsatisfaction. 

On Wednesday afternoon, however, she was faced by a condition she didnot know how to manage. Ian came to her in a hurry, saying, "Myfriend, McLeod, is longing for an invitation from you, and he hasasked me to request one. Surely you will send him the favour! Yes, Iknow you will. "

"You are knowing too much, Ian. What can I do? You know well, laddie, he is not popular with the best set here. "

"I would not mind the 'best set' if I were you. What makes them 'thebest'? Just their own opinion of themselves. McLeod is of gentlebirth, he is handsome and good-hearted, you will like him as soon asyou speak to him. There is another 'best set' beside the one AdamVedder leads; I would like some one to take down that old man'sconceit of himself--there is nothing wrong with McLeod! Yes, he isHighland Scotch----"

"There! that is enough, Ian! Go your ways and bid the young man. Askhim in your own name. "

"No, Mistress, I will not do that. The invitation carries neitherhonour nor good will without your name. "

"Well then, my name be it. My name has been so much used lately, Ithink I will change it. "

"Take my name then. I will be proud indeed if you will. "

"You are aye daffing, Ian; I am o'er busy for nonsense the now. Givethe Mac a hint that tartans are not necessary. "

"But I cannot do that. I am going to wear the Macrae tartan. "

"You can let that intent go by. "

"No, I can not! A certain 'yes' may depend on my wearing the Macraetartan. "

"Well, checked cloth is bonnier than black broadcloth to some people. I don't think Thora Ragnor is among that silly crowd. There is not amore quarrelsome dress than a tartan kilt--and I'm thinking theBrodies were ill friends with the Macraes in the old days. "

"The Brodies are not Highlanders. "

"You are a shamefully ignorant man, Ian Macrae. The Brodies came fromMoray, and are the only true lineal descendants of Malcolm Thane ofBrodie in the reign of Alexander the Third, lawful King of Scotland. What do you think of the Brodies now?"

"The Macrae doffs his bonnet to them; but----"

"If you say another word, the McLeod will be out of it--sure andfinal. "

So Ian laughingly left the room, and Mistress Brodie walked to thewindow and watched him speeding towards the town. "He is a wonderfullad!" she said to herself. "And I wish he was my lad! Oh why were allmy bairns lasses? They just married common bodies and left me! Oh fora lad like Ian Macrae!" Then with a great sigh, she added: "It is allright. I would doubtless have spoiled and mismanaged him!"

It is not to be supposed that Sunna Vedder kept away from all thissocial stir and preparation. She was first and foremost in everythingduring Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday she reserved herselfaltogether for the evening. No one saw her until the noon hour; thenshe came to the dinner table, for she had an entirely fresh request tomake, one which she was sure would require all her personal influenceto compass. 

She prefaced it with the intelligence that Boris had arrived duringthe night, and that Elga had met him in the street--"looking morehandsome than any man ought to look, except upon his wedding day. "

"And on that day, " said Adam, gloomily, "a man has generally goodcause to look ugly. "

"But if he was going to marry me, Grandfather, how then?"

"He would doubtless look handsome. Men usually do when they are on theroad of destruction. "

"Grandfather! I have made up my mind to marry Boris, and lead him theway I want him to go. That will always be the way thou chooseth. "

"How comes that?"

"I loved thee first of all. I shall always love thee first. Borisplayed me false, I must pay him back. I must make him suffer. ThoseRagnors--all of them--put on such airs! They make me sick. "

"What art thou after? What favour art thou seeking?"

"Thou knows how the girls will try to outdress each other at thisBrodie affair----"

"It is too late for a new dress--what is it thou wants now?"

"I want thee to go to the bank and get me my mother's necklace to wearjust this one night. "

"I will not. I gave thy dead mother a promise. "

"Break it, for a few hours. My Easter dress is not a dancing dress. Ihave no dancing dress but the pretty white silk thou gave me lastChristmas--and I have no ornaments at all--none whatever, fit to wearwith it. "

"There are always flowers----"

"Flowers! There is not a flower in Kirkwall. Easter and old MistressBrodie have used up every daisy--besides, white silk ought to havejewels. "

Adam shook his head positively. 

"My mother wishes me to have what I want. Thou ought not to keep itfrom me. "

"She told me to give thee her necklace on thy twenty-first birthday--notbefore. "

"That is so silly! What better is my twenty-first birthday than anyother day? Grandfather, I cannot love thee more, because my love forthee is already a perfect love; but I will be such a good girl if thouwilt give me what I want, O so much I want it! I will be so obedient!I will do everything thou desires! I will even marry Boris Ragnor. "And this urgent request was punctuated with kisses and little fondlingstrokes of her hand, and Adam finally asked--

"How shall I answer thy mother when she accuses me of breaking mypromise to her?"

"I will answer for thee. O dear! It is growing late! If thou dost nothurry, the bank will be closed, and then I shall be sick withdisappointment, and it will be thy fault. "

Then Adam rose and left the house and Sunna, having seen that he tookthe proper turn in the road, called for a cup of tea and havingrefreshed herself with it, went upstairs to lay out and prepareeverything for her toilet. And as she went about this business shecontinually justified herself:--

"It is only natural I should have my necklace, " she thought. "Norsewomen have always adored gold and silver and gems, and in the old daystheir husbands sailed long journeys and fought battles for what theirwomen wanted. My great Aunt Christabelle often told me that many ofthe old Shetland and Orkney families had gold ornaments and uncutgems, hundreds of years old, hid away. I would not wonder ifGrandfather has some! I dare say the bank's safe is full of them! I donot care for them but I do want my mother's wedding necklace--and I amgoing to have it. Right and proper it is, I should have it now. Motherwould say so if she were here. Girls are women earlier than they werein her day. Twenty-one, indeed! I expect to be married long before Iam twenty-one. "

In less than an hour she began to watch the road for her grandfather'sreturn. Very soon she saw him coming and he had a small parcel in hishand. Her heart gave a throb of satisfaction and she began to unplaither manifold small braids: "I shall not require to go to bed, " shemurmured. "Grandfather has my necklace. He will want to take it backto the bank tomorrow--I shall see about that--I promised--yes, I know!But there are ways--out of a promise. "

She was, of course, delightfully grateful to receive the necklace, andVedder could not help noticing how beautiful her loosened hairlooked. Its length and thickness and waves of light colour gave toher stately, blonde beauty a magical grace, and Vedder was one ofthose men who admire the charms of his own family as somethingnaturally greater than the same charms in any other family. "TheVedders carry their beauty with an air, " he said, and he was right. The Vedders during the course of a few centuries of social prominencehad acquired that air of superiority which impresses, and alsofrequently offends. 

Certainly, Sunna Vedder in white silk and a handsome necklace ofrubies and diamonds was an imposing picture; and Adam Vedder, in spiteof his sixty-two years, was an imposing escort. It would be difficultto say why, for he was a small man in comparison with the toweringNorsemen by whom he was surrounded. Yet he dominated and directed anycompany he chose to favour with his presence; and every man inKirkwall either feared or honoured him. Sunna had much of his naturaltemperament, but she had not the driving power of his cultivatedintellect. She relied on her personal beauty and the many natural artswith which Nature has made women a match for any antagonist. Had shenot heard her grandfather frequently say "a beautiful woman is thebest armed creature that God has made! She is as invincible as arhinoceros!"

This night he had paid great attention to his own toilet. He wasfashionably attired, neat as a new pin, and if not amiable, at leastexceedingly polite. He had leaning on his arm what he considered themost beautiful creature in Scotland, and he assumed the manners of herguardian with punctilious courtesy. 

There was a large company present when the Vedders reached Mrs. Brodie's--military men, a couple of naval officers, gentlemen ofinfluence, and traders of wealth and enterprise; with a fullcomplement of women "divinely tall and fair. " Sunna made the sensationamong them she expected to make. There was a sudden pause inconversation and every eye filled itself with her beauty. For just amoment, it seemed as if there was no other person present. 

Then Mrs. Brodie and Colonel Belton came to meet them, and Sunna wasleft in the latter's charge. "Will you now dance, Miss Vedder?" heasked. 

"Let us first walk about a little, Colonel. I want to find my friend, Thora Ragnor. "

"I have long desired an introduction to Miss Ragnor. Is she notlovely?"

"Yes, but now only for one man. A stranger came here last week, andshe was captured at once. "

"How remarkable! I thought that kind of irresponsible love had gonequite out of favour and fashion. "

"Not so! This youth came, saw, and conquered. "

"Is it the youth I see with Ken McLeod?"

"The same. Look! There they are, together as usual. "

"She is very sweet and attractive. "

Sunna answered this remark by asking Thora to honour Colonel Beltonwith her company for a short time, saying: "In the interval I willtake care of Ian Macrae. " Then Thora stood up in her innocence andloveliness and she was like some creature of more ethereal nature thangoes with flesh and blood. For the eye took her in as a whole, and atfirst noticed neither her face nor her dress in particular. Her dresswas only of white tarlatan, a thin, gauze-like material long out offashion. It is doubtful if any woman yet remembers its airy, fairysway, and graceful folds. The filmy robe, however, was plentifullytrimmed with white satin ribbon, and the waist was entirely of satintrimmed with tarlatan. The whole effect was girlish and simple, andThora needed no other ornament but the pink and white daisies at herbelt. 

However, if Sunna expected Thora's manner and conversation to matchthe simplicity of her dress, she was disappointed. In Love's schoolwomen learn with marvellous rapidity, and Thora astonished her byfalling readily into a conversation of the most up-to-date socialcharacter. She had caught the trick from Ian, a little playful fencinground the most alluring of subjects, yet it brought out the simplicityof her character, while it also revealed its purity and intelligence. 

Dancing had commenced when Mrs. Ragnor entered the room on the arm ofher son Boris. Boris instantly looked around for Sunna and she wasdancing with McLeod. All the evening afterwards Boris danced, butnever once with Sunna, and Adam Vedder watched the young man withscorn. He was the most desirable party in the room for any girl and hequite neglected the handsome Sunna Vedder. That was not his onlyannoyance. McLeod was dancing far too often with Sunna, and even thebeautiful youth Ian Macrae had only asked her hand once; and Adam wassure that Thora Ragnor had been the suggester of that act ofpoliteness. Girls far inferior to Sunna in every respect had receivedmore attention than his granddaughter. He was greatly offended, but heappeared to turn his back on the whole affair and to be entirelyoccupied in conversation with Conall Ragnor and Colonel Beltonconcerning the war with Russia. 

Every way the evening was to Sunna a great disappointment, in manyrespects she felt it to be a great humiliation; and the latter feelingtroubled her more for her grandfather than for herself. She knew hewas mortified, for he did not speak to her as they walked through thechill, damp midnight to their home. Mrs. Brodie had urged Adam andSunna to put the night past at her house, but Adam had been proofagainst all her suggestions, and even against his own desires. So hesatisfied his temper by walking home and insisting on Sunna doinglikewise. 

It was a silent, unhappy walk. Adam said not a word to Sunna and shewould not open the way for his anger to relieve itself. When theyreached home they found a good fire in the room full of books whichAdam called his own, and there they went. Then Sunna let her longdress fall down, and put out her sandalled feet to the warmth of thefire. Adam glanced into her face and saw that it was full of trouble. 

"Go to thy bed, Sunna, " he said. "Of this night thou must have hadenough. "

"I have had too much, by far. If only thou loved me!"

"Who else do I love? There is none but thee. "

"Then with some one thou ought to be angry. "

"Is it with Boris Ragnor I should be angry?"

"Yes! It is with Boris Ragnor. Not once did he ask me to dance. Watching him and me were all the girls. They saw how he slighted me, and made little nods and laughs about it. "

"It was thy own fault. When Boris came into the room, he looked forthee. With McLeod thou wert dancing. With that Scot thou wert dancing!The black look on his face, I saw it, thou should have seen it andhave given him a smile--Pshaw! Women know so much--and do so little. By storm thou ought to have taken the whole affair for thy own. I amdisappointed in thee--yes, I am disappointed. "

"Why, Grandfather?"

"An emergency thou had to face, and thou shirked it. When Borisentered the room, straight up to him thou should have gone; with anoutstretched hand and a glad smile thou should have said: 'I amwaiting for thee, Boris!' Then thou had put all straight that wascrooked, and carried the evening in thy own hands. "

"I will pay Boris for this insult. Yes, I will, and thou must helpme. "

"To quarrel with Boris? To injure him in any way? No! that I will notdo. It would be to quarrel also with my old friend Conall. Not thee!Not man or woman living, could make me do that! Sit down and I willtell thee a better way. "

"No, I will not sit down till thou say 'yes' to what I ask"; for somewomanly instinct told her that while Adam was cowering over the hearthblaze and she stood in all her beauty and splendour above him, shecontrolled the situation. "Thou must help me!"

"To what or whom?"

"I want to marry Boris. "

"Dost thou love him?"

"Better than might be. When mine he is all mine, then I will lovehim. "

"That is little to trust to. "

"Thou art wrong. It is of reasons one of the best and surest. Notthree months ago, a little dog followed thee home, an ugly, half-starved little mongrel, not worth a shilling; but it wasdetermined to have thee for its master, and thou called it thy dog, and now it is petted and pampered and lies at thy feet, and barks atevery other dog, and thou says it is the best dog on the Island. It isthe same way with husbands. Thou hast seen how Mary Minorie goes onabout her bald, scrimpy husband; yet she burst out crying when he putthe ring on her finger. Now she tells all the girls that marriage is'Paradise Regained. ' When Boris is my husband it will be well with me, and not bad for him. He will be mine, and we love what is our own. "

"Why wilt thou marry any man? Thou wilt be rich. "

"One must do as the rest of the world does--and the world has thefashion of marrying. "

"Money rules love. "

"No!"

"Yes! Bolon Flett had only scorn for his poor little wife until heruncle left her two thousand pounds. Since then, no word is long enoughor good enough for her excellencies. Money opens the eyes as well asthe heart. What then, if I make Boris rich?"

"Boris is too proud to take money from thee and I will not be sold toany man!"

"Wilt thou wait until my meaning is given thee--flying off in a temperlike a foolish woman!"

"I am sorry--speak thy meaning. "

"Sit down. Thou art not begging anything. "

"Not from thee. I have thy love. "

"And thine is mine. This is my plan. Above all things Boris loves astirring, money-making business. I am going to ask him to take me ashis partner. Tired am I of living on my past. How many boats hasBoris?"

"Thou knowest he has but one, but she is large and swift, and does asmuch business as McLeod's three little sloops. "

"Schooners. "

"Schooners, then--little ones!"

"Well then, there is a new kind of boat which thou hast never seen. She is driven by steam, not wind, she goes swiftly, all winds are fairto her, and she cares little for storms. "

"I saw a ship like that when I was in Edinburgh. She lay in Leithharbour, and the whole school went to Leith to see her come in. "

"If Boris will be my partner, I will lay my luck to his, and I willbuy a steam ship, a large coaster--dost thou see?"

Then with a laugh she cried: "I see, I see! Then thou can easily beatthe sloops or schooners, that have nothing but sails. Good is that, very good!"

"Just so. We can make two trips for their one. No one can tradeagainst us. "

"McLeod may buy steam ships. "

"I have learned all about him. His fortune is in real estate, mostlyin Edinburgh. It takes a lifetime to sell property in Edinburgh. Weshall have got all there is to get before McLeod could compete withVedder and Ragnor. "

"That scheme would please Boris, I know. "

"A boat could be built on the Clyde in about four months, I think. Shall I speak to Boris?"

"Yes, Boris will not fly in the face of good fortune; but mindthis--it is easier to begin that reel than it will be to end it. Onething I do not like--thou wert angry with Boris, now thou wilt takehim for a partner. "

"At any time I can put my anger under my purse--but my anger wasmostly against thee. Now shall I do as I am minded?"

"That way is more likely than not! I think this affair will grow withthee--but thou may change thy mind----"

"I do not call my words back. Go now to thy bed and forget everything. This is the time when sleep will be better than either words or deeds. Of my intent speak to _no one_. In thy thoughts let it be still untilits hour arrives. "

"In the morning, very early, I am going to see Thora. When theenlisting ship sails northward, there will be a crowd to see her off. Boris and Thora and Macrae will be among it. I also intend to bethere. Dost thou know at what hour she will leave?"

"At ten o'clock the tide is full. "

"Then at ten, she will sail. "

"Likely enough, is that. Our talk is now ended. Let it be, as if ithad not been. "

"I have forgotten it. "

Vedder laughed, and added: "Go then to thy bed, I am tired. "

"Not tired of Sunna?"

"Well then, yes, of thee I have had enough at present. "

She went away as he spoke, and then he was worried. "Now I amunhappy!" he ejaculated. "What provokers to the wrong way are women!Her mother was like her--my beloved Adriana!" And his old eyes filledwith sorrowful tears as he recalled the daughter he had lost in thefirst days of her motherhood. Very soon Sunna and Adriana became oneand he was fast asleep in his chair. 

In the morning Sunna kept her intention. She poured out hergrandfather's coffee, and talked of everything but the thing in herheart and purpose. After breakfast she said: "I shall put the day pastwith Thora Ragnor. Thy dinner will be served for thee by Elga. "

"Talking thou wilt be----"

"Of nothing that ought to be kept quiet. Do not come for me if I amlate; I intend that Boris shall bring me home. "

Sunna dressed herself in a pretty lilac lawn frock, trimmed with thethen new and fashionable Scotch open work, and fresh lilac ribbons. Her hair was arranged as Boris liked it best, and it was shielded byone of those fine, large Tuscan hats that have never, even yet, goneout of fashion. 

"Why, Sunna!" cried Thora, as she hastened to meet her friend, "howglad am I to see thee!"

"Thou wert in my heart this morning, and I said to it 'Be content, inan hour I will take thee to thy desire. '" And they clasped hands, andwalked thus into the house. "Art thou not tired after the dance?"

"No, " replied Thora, "I was very happy. Do happy people get tired?"

"Yes--one can only bear so much happiness, then it is weariness--sometimescrossness. Too much of any good thing is a bad thing. "

"How wise thou art, Sunna. "

"I live with wisdom. "

"With Adam Vedder?"

"Yes, and thou hast been living with Love, with Mr. Macrae. Veryhandsome and good-natured he is. I am sure that thou art in love withhim! Is that not the case?"

"Very much in love with me he is, Sunna. It is a great happiness. I donot weary of it, no, indeed! To believe in love, to feel it all aroundyou! It is wonderful! You know, Sunna--surely you know?"

"Yes, I, too, have been in love. "

"With Boris--I know. And also Boris is in love with thee. "

"That is wrong. No longer does Boris love me. "

"But that is impossible. Love for one hour is love forever. He didlove thee, then he could not forget. Never could he forget. "

"He did not notice me last night. Thou must have seen?"

"I did not notice--but I heard some talk about it. The first time thouart alone with him, he will tell thee his trouble. It is only a littlecloud--it will pass. "

"I suppose the enlisting ship sails northaway first?"

"Yes, to Lerwick, though they may stop at Fair Island on the way. Boris says they could get many men there--and Boris knows. "

"Art thou going to the pier to see them leave? I suppose every onegoes. Shall we go together?"

"Why, Sunna! They left this morning about four o'clock. Father wentdown to the pier with Boris. Boris sailed with them. "

"Thora! Thora! I thought Boris was to remain here until the navalparty returned from Shetland?"

"The lieutenant in command thought Boris could help the enlisting, forin Lerwick Boris has many friends. Thou knows my sisters Anna andNenie live in Lerwick. Boris was fain to go and see them. "

"But they will return here when their business is finished inLerwick?"

"They spoke of doing so, but mother is not believing they will return. They took with them all the men enlisted here and the men are wantedvery much. Boris did not bid us a short 'good-bye. ' Mother was crying, and when he kissed me his tears wet my cheeks. "

Sunna did not answer. For a few minutes she felt as if her heart hadsuddenly died. At last she blundered out:

"I suppose the officer was afraid that--Boris might slip off while hewas away. "

"Well, then, thou supposes what is wrong. When a fight is thequestion, Boris needs no one either to watch him or to egg him on. "

"Is that youngster, Macrae, going to join? Or has he already taken theQueen's shilling? I think I heard such a report. "

"No one could have told that story. Macrae is bound by a contract toMcLeod for this year and indeed, just yet, he does not wish to go. "

"He does not wish to leave thee. "

"That is not out of likelihood. "

"Many are saying that England is in great stress, and my grandfatherthinks that so she is. "

"My father says 'not so. ' If indeed it were so, my father would havegone with Boris. Mother is cross about it. "

"About what then is she cross?" asked Sunna. 

"People are saying that England is in stress. Mother says such wordsare nothing but men's 'fear talk. ' England's sons are many, and if fewthey were, she has millions of daughters who would gladly fight forher!" said Thora. 

"Well, then, for heroics there is no present need! I surely thoughtBoris loved his business and would not leave his money-making. "

"Could thou tell me what incalculable sum of money a man would takefor his honour and patriotism?" asked Thora. 

"What has honour to do with it?"

"Everything; a man without honour is not a man--he is just 'a body';he has no soul. Robert Burns told Andrew Horner how such men weremade!" replied Thora. 

"How was that? Tell me! A Burns' anecdote will put grandfather in hisfinest temper, and I want him in that condition for I have a greatfavour to ask from him. "

"The tale tells that when Burns was beginning to write, he had a rivalin a man called Andrew Horner. One day they met at the same clubdinner, and they were challenged to each write a verse within fiveminutes. The gentlemen guests took out their watches, the poets werefurnished with pencils and paper. When time was up Andrew Horner hadnot written the first line but Burns handed to the chairman his versecomplete. "

"Tell me. If you know it, tell me, Thora!"

"Yes, I know it. If you hear it once you do not forget it. "

"Well then?"

"It runs thus:

 "'Once on a time The Deil gat stuff to mak' a swine And put it in a corner; But afterward he changed his plan And made it summat like a man, And ca'ed it Andrew Horner. '"

"That is good! It will delight grandfather. "

"No doubt he already knows it. "

"No, I should have heard it a thousand times, if he knew it. "

"Well, then, I believe it has been suppressed. Many think it tooill-natured for Burns to have written; but my father says it has thetrue Burns ring and is Robert Burns' writing without doubt. "

"It will give grandfather a nice long job of investigation. That isone of his favourite amusements, and all Sunna has to do is to be surehe is right and everybody else wrong. Now I will go home. "

"Stay with me today. "

"No. Macrae will be here soon. "

"Uncertain is that. "

"Every hair on thy head, Thora, every article of thy dress, from thelace at thy throat to the sandals on thy feet, say to me that this isa time when my absence will be better than my company. "

"Well, then, do as thou art minded. "

"It is best I do so. A happy morning to thee! What more is in my heartshall lie quiet at this time. "

Sunna went away with the air of a happy, careless girl, but she saidmany angry words to herself as she hasted on the homeward road. "Mostof the tales tell how women are made to suffer by the men theylove--but no tale shall be made about Sunna Vedder! _No!_ _No!_ It isBoris Ragnor I shall turn into laughter--he has mocked my veryheart--I will never forgive him--that is the foolish way all womentake--all but Sunna Vedder--she will neither forgive nor forget--shewill follow up this affair--yes!"

By such promises to herself she gradually regained her usualreasonable poise, and with a smiling face sought her grandfather. Shefound him in his own little room sitting at a table covered withpapers. He looked up as she entered and, in spite of his intention, answered her smile and greeting with an equal plentitude of good willand good temper. 

"But I thought then, that thou would stay with thy friend all day, andfor that reason I took out work not to be chattered over. "

"I will go away now. I came to thee because things have not gone as Iwanted them. Thy counsel at such ill times is the best that canhappen. "

Then Vedder threw down his pencil and turned to her. "Who has giventhee wrong or despite or put thee out of the way thou wanted totake?"

"It is Boris Ragnor. He has sailed north with the recruitingcompany--without a word to me he has gone. He has thrown my love backin my face. Should thy grandchild forgive him? I am both Vedder andFae. How can I forgive?"

Vedder took out his watch and looked at the time. "We have an hourbefore dinner. Sit down and I will talk to thee. First thou shalt tellme the very truth anent thy quarrel with Boris. What did thou do, orsay, that has so far grieved him? Now, then, all of it. Then I canjudge if it be Boris or Sunna, that is wrong in this matter. "

"Listen then. Boris heard some men talking about me--that made histemper rise--then he heard from these men that I was dancing atMcLeod's and he went there to see, and as it happened I was dancingwith McLeod when he entered the room, and he walked up to me in thedance and said thou wanted me, and he made me come home with him andscolded me all the time we were together. I asked him not to tellthee, and he promised he would not--if I went there no more. I havenot danced with McLeod since, except at Mrs. Brodie's. Thou saw methen. "

"Thou should not have entered McLeod's house--what excuse hast thoufor that fault?"

"Many have talked of the fault, none but thou have asked me why or howit came that I was so foolish. I will tell thee the very truth. Iwent to spend the day with Nana Bork--with thy consent I went--andtowards afternoon there came an invitation from McLeod to Nana to joinan informal dance that night at eight o'clock. And Nana told me somany pleasant things about these little dances I could not resist hertalk and I thought if I stayed with Nana all night thou would neverknow. I have heard that I stole away out of thy house to go toMcLeod's. I did not! I went with Nana Bork whose guest I was. "

"Why did thou not tell me this before?"

"I knew no one in Kirkwall would dare to say to thee this or thatabout thy grandchild, and I hoped thou would never know. I am sorryfor my disobedience; it has always hurt me--if thou forgive it now, somuch happier I will be. "

Then Adam drew her to his side and kissed her, and words would havebeen of all things the most unnecessary. But he moved a chair close tohim, and she sat down in it and laid her hand upon his knee and heclasped and covered it with his own. 

"Very unkindly Boris has treated thee. "

"He has mocked at my love before all Kirkwall. Well, then, it is ThoraRagnor's complacency that affronts me most. If she would put herboasting into words, I could answer her; but who can answer looks?"

"She is in the heaven of her first love. Thou should understand thatcondition. "

"It is beyond my understanding; nor would I try to understand such alover as Ian Macrae. I believe that he is a hypocrite--Thora is soeasily deceived----"

"And thou?"

"I am not deceived. I see Boris just as he is, rude and jealous andhateful, but I think him a far finer man than Ian Macrae ever hasbeen, or ever will be. "

"Yes! Thou art right. Now then, let this affair lie still in thyheart. I think that he will come to see thee when the boats returnfrom Shetland--if not, then I shall have something to say in thematter. I shall want my dinner very soon, and some other thing we willtalk about. Let it go until there is a word to say or a movement tomake. "

"I will be ready for thee at twelve o'clock. " With a feeling ofcontent in her heart, Sunna went away. Had she not the Burns story totell? Yet she felt quite capable of restraining the incident until shegot to a point where its relation would serve her purpose or herdesire. 

CHAPTER VI

THE OLD, OLD TROUBLE

 From reef and rock and skerry, over headland, ness and roe, The coastwise lights of England watch the ships of England go. 

 . .. A girl with sudden ebullitions, Flashes of fun, and little bursts of song; Petulant, pains, and fleeting pale contritions, Mute little moods of misery and wrong. Only a girl of Nature's rarest making, Wistful and sweet--and with a heart for breaking. 

The following two weeks were a time of anxiety concerning Boris. Therecruiting party with whom he had gone away had said positively theymust return with whatever luck they had in two weeks; and thisinterval appeared to Sunna to be of interminable length. She spent agood deal of the time with Thora affecting to console her for the lossof Ian Macrae, who had left Kirkwall for Edinburgh a few days afterthe departure of Boris. 

"We are 'a couple of maidens all forlorn, '" she sang, and though Thoradisclaimed the situation, she could not prevent her companioninsisting on the fact. 

Thora, however, did not feel that she had any reason for beingforlorn. Ian's love for her had been confessed, not only to herself, but also to her father and mother, and the marriage agreed to with afew reservations, whose wisdom the lovers fully acknowledged. She wasreceiving the most ardent love letters by every mail and she had notone doubt of her lover in any respect. Indeed, her happiness sopervaded her whole person and conduct that Sunna felt it sometimes tobe both depressing and irritating. 

Thora, however, was the sister of Boris, she could not quarrel withher. She had great influence over Boris, and Sunna loved Boris--lovedhim in spite of her anger and of his neglect. Very slowly went the twoweeks the enlisting ships had fixed as the length of their absence, but the news of their great success made their earlier return mostlikely, and after the tenth day every one was watching for them andplanning a great patriotic reception. 

Still the two weeks went slowly away and it was a full day past thisfixed time, and the ships were not in port nor even in sight, nor hadany late news come from them. In the one letter which Rahal hadreceived from her son he said: "The enlistment has been verysatisfactory; our return may be even a day earlier than we expected. "So Sunna had begun to watch for the party three days before the settime, and when it was two days after it she was very unhappy. 

"Why do they not come, Thora?" she asked in a voice trembling withfear. "Do you think they have been wrecked?"

"Oh, no! Nothing of the kind! They may have sailed westward to Harris. My father thinks so. " But she appeared so little interested that Sunnaturned to Mistress Ragnor and asked her opinion. 

"Well, then, " answered Rahal, "they _are_ staying longer than wasexpected, but who can tell what men in a ship will do?"

"They will surely keep their word and promise. "

"Perhaps--if it seem a good thing to them. Can thou not see? They aremasters on board ship. Once out of Lerwick Bay, the whole world isbefore them. Know this, they might go East or West, and say to no man'I ask thy leave. ' As changeable as the sea is a sailor's promise. "

"But Boris is thy son--he promised thee to be home in two weeks. Mendo not break a promise made on their mother's lips. How soon dost thouexpect him?"

"At the harbour mouth he might be, even this very minute. I want tosee my boy. I love him. May the good God send those together who wouldfain be loved!"

"Boris is in command of his own ship. He was under no man's orders. Heought not to break his promise. "

"With my will, he would never do that. "

"Dost thou think he will go to the war with the other men?"

"That he might do. What woman is there who can read a man's heart?"

"His mother!"

"She might, a little way--no further--just as well 'no further. ' OnlyGod is wise enough, and patient enough, to read a human heart. This isa great mercy. " And Rahal lifted her face from her sewing a moment andthen dropped it again. 

Almost in a whisper Sunna said "Good-bye!" and then went her way home. She walked rapidly; she was in a passion of grief and mortification, but she sang some lilting song along the highway. As soon, however, asshe passed inside the Vedder garden gates, the singing was changedinto a scornful, angry monologue:

"These Ragnor women! Oh, their intolerable good sense! So easy it isto talk sweetly and properly when you have no great trouble and allyour little troubles are well arranged! Women cannot comfort women. No, they can not! They don't want to, if they could. Like women, I donot! Trust them, I do not! I wish that God had made me a man! I willgo to my dear old grandad!--He will do something--so sorry I am that Ilet Thora see I loved her brother--when I go there again, I shallconsider his name as the bringer-on of yawns and boredom!"

An angry woman carries her heart in her mouth; but Sunna had beentrained by a wise old man, and no one knew better than Sunna Vedderdid, when to speak and when to be silent. She went first to her roomin order to repair those disturbances to her appearance which had beeninduced by her inward heat and by her hurried walk home so near thenoontide; and half an hour later she came down to dinner fresh andcool as a rose washed in the dew of the morning. Her frock of muslinwas white as snow, there was a bow of blue ribbon at her throat, herwhole appearance was delightfully satisfying. She opened hergrandfather's parlour and found him sitting at a table covered withpapers and little piles of gold and silver coin. 

"Suppose I was a thief, Grandfather?" she said. 

"Well then, what would thou take first?"

"I would take a kiss!" and she laid her face against his face, andgave him one. 

"Now, thou could take all there is. What dost thou want?"

"I want thee! Dinner is ready. "

"I will come. In ten minutes, I will come----" and in less than tenminutes he was at the dinner table, and apparently a quite differentman from the one Sunna had invited there. He had changed his coat, hisface was happy and careless, and he had quite forgotten the papers andthe little piles of silver and gold. 

Sunna had said some things to Thora she was sorry for saying; she didnot intend to repeat this fault with her grandfather. Even the subjectof Boris could lie still until a convenient hour. She appeared, indeed, to have thrown off her anger and her disappointment with theunlucky clothing she had worn in her visit to Thora. She had evenassured herself of this change, for when it fell to her feet shelifted it reluctantly between her finger and thumb and threw it aside, remarking as she did so, "I will have them all washed over again! Sodaand soap may make them more agreeable and more fortunate. "

And perhaps if we take the trouble to notice the fact, clothing doesseem to have some sort of sympathy or antagonism with its wearers. Also, it appears to take on the mood or feeling predominant, lookingat one time crisp and perfectly proper, at another time limp andcareless, as if the wearer informed the garment or the garmentexplained the wearer. It is well known that "Fashions are the externalexpression of the mental states of a country, and that if its men andwomen degenerate in their character, their fashions become absurd. "Surely then, a sympathy which can affect a nation has some influenceupon the individual. Sunna had noticed even in her childhood that herdresses were lucky and unlucky, but the why or the wherefore of thecircumstance had never troubled her. She had also noticed that hergrandfather liked and disliked certain colours and modes, but shelaid all their differences to difference in age. 

This day, however, they were in perfect accord. He looked at her andnodded his head, and then smilingly asked: "How did thou find thyfriend this morning?"

"So much in love that she had not one regret for Boris. "

"Well, then, there is no reason for regret. Boris has taken the pathof honour. "

"That may be so, but for the time to come I shall put little trust inhim. Going such a dubious way, he might well have stopped for a GodBless Thee!"

"Would thou have said that?"

"Why should we ask about things impossible? Dost thou know, Grandfather, at what time the recruiting party passed Kirkwall?"

"Nobody knows. I heard music out at sea three nights ago, just aftermidnight. There are no Shetland boats carrying music. It is morelikely than not to have been the recruiting party saluting us withmusic as they went by. "

"Yes! I think thou art right. Grandfather, I want thee to tell me whatwe are fighting about. "

"Many times thou hast said 'it made no matter to thee. '"

"Now then, it is different. Since Boris and so many of our men wentaway, Mistress Ragnor and Thora talk of the war and of nothing but thewar. They know all about it. They wanted to tell me all about it. Isaid thou had told me all that was proper for me to know, and nowthen, thou must make my words true. What is England quarrelling about?It seems to me, that somebody is always looking at her in a way shedoes not think respectful enough. "

"This war is not England's fault. She has done all she could to avoidit. It is the Great Bear of Russia who wants Turkey put out ofEurope. "

"Well, then, I heard the Bishop say the Turks were a disgrace toEurope, and that the Book of Common Prayer had once contained apetition for delivery from the Devil, the Turks, and the comet, thenflaming in the sky and believed to be threatening destruction to theearth. "

"Listen, and I will tell thee the truth. The Greek population ofTurkey, its Syrians and Armenians, are the oldest Christians in theworld. They are also the most numerous and important class of theSultan's subjects. Russia also has a large number of RussianChristians in Turkey over whom she wants a protectorate, but these twoinfluences would be thorns in the side of Turkey. England has boughtfavour for the Christians she protects, by immense loans of money andother political advantages, but neither the Turk nor the English wantRussia's power inside of Turkey. "

"What for?"

"Turkey is in a bad way. A few weeks ago the Czar said to England, 'Wehave on our hands a sick man, a very sick man. I tell you frankly, itwill be a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip awayfrom us, especially if it were before all necessary arrangements weremade. The Czar wants Turkey out of his way. He wants Constantinoplefor his own southern capital, he wants the Black Sea for a Russianlake, and the Danube for a Russian river. He wants many otherunreasonable things, which England cannot listen to. "

"Well then, I think the Russian would be better than the Turk inEurope. "

"One thing is sure; in the hour that England joins Russia, Turkey willslay every Christian in her territories. Dost thou think England willinaugurate a huge massacre of Christians?"

"That is not thinkable. Is there nothing more?"

"Well then, there is India. The safety of our Indian Empire would beendangered over the whole line between East and West if Russia was inConstantinople. Turkey lies across Egypt, Syria, Asia Minor andArmenia, and above all at Constantinople and the Straits. Dost thouthink England would ask Russia's permission every time she wished togo to India?"

"No indeed! That, itself, is a good reason for fighting. "

"Yes, but the Englishman always wants a moral backbone for hisquarrel. "

"That is as it should be. The Armenian Christians supply that. "

"But, Sunna, try and imagine to thyself a great military despoticPower seating itself at Constantinople, throwing its right hand overAsia Minor, Syria and Egypt; and its left holding in an iron grip thewhole north of two continents; keeping the Dardanelles and theBosphorus closed whenever it was pleased to do so, and building fleetsin Egypt; and in Armenia, commanding the desirable road to India bythe Euphrates. "

"Oh, that could not be suffered! Impossible! All the women in Kirkwallwould fight against such a condition. "

"Well, so matters stand, and we had been at sword points a year agobut for Lord Aberdeen's cowardly, pernicious love of peace. But he isalways whining about 'war destroying wealth and commerce'--as ifwealth and commerce were of greater worth than national honour andjustice and mercy. "

"Yet, one thing is sure, Grandad; war is wasteful and destructive----"

"And one thing is truer still--it is this--_that national wealth iscreated by peace for the very purpose of defending the nation in war_. Bear this in mind. Now, it seems to me we have had enough of war. Isee Elga coming with a dish of good Scotch collops, and I give thee myword that I will not spoil their savour by any unpleasant talk. " Thenhe poured a little fine Glenlivet into a good deal of water and said:"Here's first to the glory of God! and then to the honour of England!"And Sunna touched his glass with her glass and the little ceremony putboth in a very happy mood. 

Then Sunna saw that the moment she had waited for had arrived and shesaid: "I will tell thee a good story of Robert Burns to flavour thycollops. Will that be to thy wish?"

"It is beyond my wish. Thou can not tell me one I do not know. "

"I heard one today from Thora Ragnor that I never heard thee tell. "

"Then it cannot be fit for thee and Thora Ragnor to repeat. "

"Wilt thou hear it?"

"Is it about some girl he loved?"

"No, it is about a man he scorned. Thou must have heard of AndrewHorner?"

"Never heard the creature's name before. "

"Then the story will be fresh to thee. Will thou hear it now?"

"As well now, as later. " For Adam really had no expectation of hearinganything he had not already heard and judged; and he certainlyexpected nothing unusual from the proper and commonplace Thora Ragnor. But Sunna exerted all her facial skill and eloquence, and told theclever incident with wonderful spirit and delightful mimicry. Adam wasenchanted; he threw down his knife and fork and made the room ringwith laughter and triumph so genuine that Sunna--much against herwill--was compelled to laugh with him. They heard the happy thunder inthe kitchen, and wondered whatever was the matter with the Master. 

"It is Robert Burns, his own self, and no other man. It is the bestthing I have heard from 'the lad that was born in Kyle!'" Veddercried. "Ill-natured! Not a bit of it! Just what the Horner mandeserved!" Then he took some more collops and a fresh taste ofGlenlivet, and anon broke into laughter again. 

"Oh! but I wish I was in Edinburgh tonight! There's men there I wouldgo to see and have my laugh out with them. "

"Grandfather, why should we not go to Edinburgh next winter? You couldboard me with Mistress Brodie, and come every day to sort our quarrelsand see that I was properly treated. Then you could have your crowover the ignoramuses who did not know such a patent Burns story; and Icould take lessons in music and singing, and be learning something orseeing something, every hour of my life. "

"And what about Boris?"

"The very name of Boris tires my tongue! I can do without Boris. "

"Well, then, that is good! Thou art learning 'the grand habit of doingwithout. '"

"Wilt thou take me to Edinburgh? My mother would like thee to do that. I think I deserve it, Grandfather; yes, and so I ask thee. "

"If I was going, I should have no mind to go without thee. One thing Iwish to know--in what way hast thou deserved it?"

"I did not expect thee to ask me a question like that. Have I frettedand pined, and forgot to eat and sleep, and gone dowdy and slovenly, because my lover has been fool enough to desert me? Well, then, thatis what any other girl would have done. But because I am of thy bloodand stock, I take what comes to me as part of my day's work, and makeno more grumble on the matter than one does about bad weather. Is thatnot the truth?"

"One thing is sure--thou art the finest all round girl in theOrcades. "

"Then it seems to me thou should take me to Edinburgh. I want thatsomething, that polish, only great cities can give me. "

"Blessings on thee! All Edinburgh can give, thou shalt have! But it ismy advice to thee to remain here until Mrs. Brodie goes back, then gothou with her. "

"That will be what it should be. Mrs. Brodie, I feel, will be mystepmother; and----"

"She will never step past thee. Fear not!"

"Nor will any one--man or woman--step between thee and me! Doubt menot!"

"Well, then, have thy way. I give thee my word to take thee toEdinburgh in the autumn. Thou shalt either stay with Mrs. Brodie or atthe Queen's Hotel on Prince's Street, with old Adam Vedder. "

"Best of all is thy last offer. I will stay with thee. I am used tomen's society. Women bore me. "

"Women bore me also. "

"Know this, there are three women who do not bore thee. Shall I speaktheir names?"

"I will not hinder thee. "

"Sunna Vedder?"

"I love her. She cannot bore me. "

"Rahal Ragnor?"

"I respect her. She does not bore me--often. "

"Yes, that is so; it is but seldom thou sees her. Well, then, BarbaraBrodie?"

"I once loved her. She can never be indifferent to me. "

"Thou hast told me the truth and I will not follow up this catechism. "

"For that favour, I am thy debtor. I might not always have been sotruthful. Now, then, be honest with me. What wilt thou do all thesummer, with no lover to wait on thy whims and fancies?"

"On thee I shall rely. Where thou goes, I will go, and if thou stay athome, with thee I will stay. Thou can read to me. I have never heardany of our great Sagas and that is a shame. I complain of that neglectin my education! I heard Maximus Grant recite from 'The Banded Men andHaakon the Good, ' when I was in Edinburgh, and I said to myself, 'howmuch finer is this, than opera songs, sung with a Scotch burr, in theItalian; or than English songs, sung by Scotch people who pronounceEnglish after the Scotch fashion!' Then I made up my mind that thiscoming winter I would let Edinburgh drawing-rooms hear the songs ofNorse warriors; the songs in which the armour rattles and the swordsshine!"

"That, indeed, will befit thee! Now, then, for the summer, keepthyself well in hand. Say nothing of thy plans, for if but once thewind catches them, they will soon be for every one to talk to death. "

Adam was finishing his plate of rice pudding and cream when he gavethis advice; and with it, he moved his chair from the table and said:"Come into the garden. I want to smoke. Thou knows a good dinnerdeserves a pipe, and a bad one demands it. "

Then they went into the garden and talked of the flowers and the youngvegetables, and said not a word of Edinburgh and the Sagas that thewinds could catch and carry round to human folk for clash and gossip. And when the pipe was out, Adam said: "Now I am going into the town. That Burns story is on my lips, my teeth cannot keep my tongue behindthem much longer. "

"A good time will be thine. I wish that I could go with thee. "

"What wilt thou do?"

"Braid my hair and dress myself. Then I shall take out thy Saga of'The Banded Men' and study the men who were banded, and find themout, in all their clever ways. Then I can show them to others. If Iget tired of them--and I do get tired of men very quickly--I willput on my bonnet and tippet, and go and carry Mrs. Brodie thyrespectful----"

"Take care, Sunna!"

"Good wishes! I can surely go so far. "

"Know this--every step on that road may lead to danger--and thoucannot turn back and tread them the other way. There now, be off! Iwill talk with thee no longer. "

Sunna said something about Burns in reply, but Vedder heard her not. He was satisfying his vocal impatience by whistling softly and verymusically "The Garb of Old Gaul, " and Sunna watched and listened amoment, and then in something of a hurry went to her room. A newthought had come to her--one which pleased her very much; and sheproceeded to dress herself accordingly. 

"None too good is my Easter gown, " she said pleasantly to herself;"and I can take Eric a basket of the oranges grandfather brought hometoday. A treat to the dear little lad they will be. Before me is along afternoon, and I shall find the proper moment to ask the adviceof Maximus about 'The Banded Men. '" So with inward smiles she dressedherself, and then took the highway in a direction not very often takenby her. 

It led her to a handsome mansion overlooking the Venice of theOrcades, the village and the wonderful Bay of Kirkwall, into which

 . .. By night and day, The great sea water finds its way Through long, long windings of the hills. 

The house had a silent look, and its enclosure was strangely quiet, though kept in exquisite order and beauty. As she approached, a ladyabout fifty years old came to the top of the long, white steps to meether, appearing to be greatly pleased with her visit. 

"Only at dinner time Max was speaking of thee! And Eric said hissweetheart had forgotten him, and wondering we all were, what had keptthee so long away. "

"Well, then, thou knowest about the war and the enlisting--everyone, in some way, has been touched by the changes made. "

"True is that! Quickly thou must come in, for Eric has bothsecond-sight and hearing, and no doubt he knows already that here thouart----" and talking thus as she went, Mrs. Beaton led the way up awide, light stairway. Even as Mrs. Beaton was speaking a thin, eagervoice called Sunna's name, a door flew open, and a man, beautiful asa dream-man, stood in the entrance to welcome them. And here the word"beautiful" need not to be erased; it was the very word that sprangnaturally from the heart to the lips of every one when they metMaximus Grant. No Greek sculptor ever dreamed of a more perfect formand face; the latter illumined by noticeable grey eyes, contemplativeand mystical, a face, thoughtful and winning, and constantly breakinginto kind smiles. 

He took Sunna's hand, and they went quickly forward to a boy of abouteleven years old, whom Sunna kissed and petted. The little lad was ina passion of delight. He called her "his sweetheart! his wife! hisQueen!" and made her take off her bonnet and cloak and sit down besidehim. He was half lying in a softly cushioned chair; there was a largeglobe at his side, and an equally large atlas, with other books on asmall table near by, and Max's chair was close to the wholearrangement. He was a fair, lovely boy, with the seraphic eyes thatsufferers from spinal diseases so frequently possess--eyes with thelook in them of a Conqueror of Pain. But also, on his young face therewas the solemn Trophonean pallor which signs those who daily dare "tolook at death in the cave. "

"Max and I have been to the Greek islands, " he said, "and Sunna, assoon as I am grown up, and am quite well, I shall ask thee to marryme, and then we will go to one of the loveliest of them and livethere. Max thinks that would be just right. "

"Thou little darling, " answered Sunna, "when thou art a man, if thouask me to marry thee, I shall say 'yes!'"

"Of course thou wilt. Sunna loves Eric?"

"I do, indeed, Eric! I think we should be very happy. We should neverquarrel or be cross with each other. "

"Oh! I would not like that! If we did not quarrel, there would be nomaking-up. I remember papa and mamma making-up their little tiffs, andthey seemed to be very happy about it--and to love each other ever somuch better for the tiff and the make-up. I think we must have littlequarrels, Sunna; and then, long, long, happy makings-up. "

"Very well, Eric; only, thou must make the quarrel. With thee I couldnot quarrel. "

"I should begin it in this way: 'Sunna, I do not approve of thydancing with--say--Ken McLeod. ' Then thou wilt say: 'I shall dancewith whom I like, Eric'; and I will reply: 'thou art my wife and Iwill not allow thee to dance with McLeod'; and then thou wilt benaughty and saucy and proud, and I shall have to be angry andmasterful; and as thou art going out of the room in a terrible temper, I shall say, 'Sunna!' in a sweet voice, and look at thee, and thouwilt look at me, with those heavenly eyes, and then I shall open myarms and thou wilt fly to my embrace, and the making-up will begin. "

"Well, then, that will be delightful, Eric, but thou must not accuseme of anything so bad as dancing with Mr. McLeod. "

"Would that be bad to thee?"

"Very bad, indeed! I fear I would never try to have a 'make-up' withany one who thought I would dance with him. "

"Dost thou dislike him?"

"That is neither here nor there. He is a Scot. I may marry like therest of the world, but while my life days last, Sunna Vedder will notmarry a Scot. "

"Yes--but there was some talk that way. My aunt heard it. My aunthears everything. "

"I will tell thee, talk that way was all lies. No one will SunnaVedder marry, that is not of her race. " Then she put her arms roundEric, and kissed his wan face, calling him "her own little Norseman!"

"Tell me, Sunna, what is happening in the town?" said he. 

"Well, then, not much now. Men are talking of the war, and going tothe war, and empty is the town. About the war, art thou sorry?"

"No, I am glad----

 "How glorious the valiant, sword in hand, In front of battle for their native land!"

And he raised his small, thin hands, and his face glowed, and helooked like a young St. Michael. 

Then Max lifted the globe and books aside and put his chair close tohis brother's. "Eric has the soul of a soldier, " he said, "and thesound of drums and trumpets stirs him like the cry of fire. "

"And so it happens, Mr. Grant, that we have much noise lately from thetrumpets and the fife and drums. "

"Yes, man is a military animal, he loves parade, " answered Max. 

"But in this war, there is much more than parade. "

"You are right, Miss Vedder. It was prompted by that giganticheart-throb with which, even across oceans, we feel each other'srights and wrongs. And in this way we learn best that we are men andbrothers. Can a man do more for a wrong than give his life to rightit?"

Then Eric cried out with hysterical passion: "I wish only that I mighthave my way with Aberdeen! Oh, the skulking cowards who follow him!Max! Max! If you would mount our father's big war horse and hold me infront of you and ride into the thick of the battle, and let me look onthe cold light of the lifted swords! Oh, the shining swords! Theyshake! They cry out! The lives of men are in them! Max! Max! I want todie--on a--battlefield!"

And Max held the weeping boy in his arms, and bowed his head over himand whispered words too tender and sacred to be written down. 

For a while Eric was exhausted; he lay still watching his brother andSunna, and listening to their conversation. They were talking of theexcitement in London, and of the pressure of the clergy putting downthe reluctancies and falterings of the peace men. 

"Have you heard, Miss Vedder, " said Grant, "that one of the bishopsdecided England's call to war by a wonderful sermon in St. Paul's?"

"I am sorry to be ignorant. Tell me. "

"He preached from Jeremiah, Fourth Chapter and Sixth Verse; and hisclosing cry was from Nahum, Second Chapter and First Verse, 'Set upthe standard toward Zion. Stay not, for I will bring evil from thenorth and a great destruction, ' and he closed with Nahum's advice, 'Hethat dasheth in pieces is come up before thy face, keep the munition, watch the way, make thy loins strong, fortify thy power mightily. '"

"Well, then, how went the advice?"

"I know not exactly. It is hard to convince commerce and cowardicethat at certain times war is the highest of all duties. Neither ofthem understand patriotism; and yet every trembling pacifist in timeof war is a misfortune to his country. "

"And the country will give them--what?" asked Sunna. 

"The cold, dead damnation of a disgrace they will never outlive, "answered Max. 

There was a sharp cry from Eric at these words, and then a passionatechildish exclamation--"Not bad enough! Not bad enough!" he screamed. "Oh, if I had a sword and a strong hand! I would cut them up inslices!" Then with an hysterical cry the boy fell backward. 

In an instant Max had him in his arms and was whispering words ofpromise and consolation, and just then, fortunately, Mrs. Beatonentered with a servant who was carrying a service of tea and muffins. It was a welcome diversion and both Max and Sunna were glad of it. Maxgently unloosed Eric's hand from Sunna's clasp and then they bothlooked at the child. He had fallen into a sleep of exhaustion and Maxsaid, "It is well. When he is worn out with feeling, such sleeps alonesave his life. I am weary, also. Let us have a cup of tea. " So theysat down and talked of everything but the war--"He would hear us inhis sleep, " said Max, "and he has borne all he is able to bear today. "Then Sunna said:

"Right glad am I to put a stop to such a trouble-raising subject. Waris a thing by itself, and all that touches it makes people bereft oftheir senses or some other good thing. Here has come news of ThoraRagnor's hurried marriage, but no one knows or cares about thestrange things happening at our doorstep. Such haste is not good Ifear. "

"Does Ragnor approve of it?" asked Mrs. Beaton. 

"Thora's marriage is all right. They fell in love with each other themoment they met. No other marriage is possible for either. It is this, or none at all, " answered Sunna. 

"I heard the man was the son of a great Edinburgh preacher. "

"Yes, the Rev. Dr. Macrae, of St. Mark's. "

"That is what I heard. He is a good man, but a very hard one. "

"If he is hard, he is not good. "

"Thou must not say that, little Miss; it may be the Episcopalianbelief, but we Calvinists have a stronger faith--a faith fit for menand soldiers of the Lord. "

"There! Mrs. Beaton, you are naming soldiers. That is against ouragreement to drop war talk. About Macrae I know nothing. He is notaware that anyone but Thora Ragnor lives; and I was not in the leastattracted by him--his black hair and black eyes repelled me--I dislikesuch men. "

"Will they live in Edinburgh?"

"I believe they will live in Kirkwall. Mrs. Ragnor owns a prettyhouse, which she will give them. She is going to put it in order andfurnish it from the roof to the foundation. Thora is busy about hernapery--the finest of Irish linen and damask. Now then, I must hurryhome. My grandfather will be waiting his tea. "

Max rose with her. He looked at his little brother and said: "Aunt, hewill sleep now for a few hours, will you watch him till I return?"

"Will I not? You know he is as safe with me as yourself, Max. "

So with an acknowledging smile of content, he took Sunna's hand andled her slowly down the stairway. There was a box running all acrossthe sill of the long window, lighting the stairs, and it was full andrunning over with the delicious muck plant. Sunna laid her face uponits leaves for a moment, and the whole place was thrilled with itsheavenly perfume. Then she smiled at Max and his heart trembled withjoy; yet he said a little abruptly--"Let us make haste. The nightgrows cloudy. "

Their way took them through the village, and Sunna knew that shewould, in all likelihood, be the first woman ever seen in MaximusGrant's company. The circumstance was pleasant to her, and she carriedherself with an air and manner that she readily caught and copied fromhim. She knew that there was a face at every window, but she did notturn her head one way or the other. Max was talking to her about theSagas and she had a personal interest in the Sagas, and any ambitionshe had to be socially popular was as yet quite undeveloped. 

At the point where the Vedder and Ragnor roads crossed each other, twomen were standing, talking. They were Ragnor and Vedder, and Ragnorwas at once aware of the identity of the couple approaching; butVedder appeared so unaware, that Ragnor remarked: "I see Sunna, Vedder, coming up the road, and with her is Colonel Max Grant. "

"But why 'Colonel, ' Ragnor?"

"When General Grant died his son was a colonel in the Life Guards. Heleft the army to care for his brother. I heard that the Queen praisedhim for doing so. "

Then the couple were so close, that it was impossible to affectignorance of their presence any longer; and the old men turned andsaluted the young couple. "I thank thee, Colonel, " said Vedder, as he"changed hats" with the Colonel, "but now I can relieve thee of thecharge thou hast taken. I am going home and Sunna will go with me; butif thou could call on an old man about some business, there is amatter I would like to arrange with thee. "

"I could go home with you now, Vedder, if that would be suitable. "

"Nay, it would be too much for me tonight. It is concerning that wasteland on the Stromness road, near the little bridge. I would like tobuild a factory there. "

"That would be to my pleasure and advantage. I will call on you andtalk over the matter, at any time you desire. "

"Well and good! Say tomorrow at two o'clock. "

"Three o'clock would be better for me. "

"So, let it be. " Then he took Sunna's hand and she understood that herwalk with Grant was over. She thanked Max for his courtesy, sent amessage to Eric, and then said her good night with a look into hiseyes which dirled in his heart for hours afterwards. Some complimentspassed between the men and then she found herself walking home withher grandfather. 

"Thou ought not to have seen me, Grandfather, " she said a littlecrossly, "I was having such a lovely walk. "

"I did not want to see thee, and have I not arranged for theesomething a great deal better on tomorrow's afternoon?"

"One never knows----"

"Listen; he is to come at three o'clock, it will be thy fault if heleaves at four. Thou can make tea for him--thou can walk in thegreenhouse and the garden with him, thou can sing for him--no, let him sing for thee--thou can ask him to help thee with 'TheBanded Men'--and if he goes away before eight o'clock I will sayto thee--'take the first man that asks thee for thou hast nowoman-witchery with which to pick and choose!' Grant is a fine man. If thou can win him, thou wins something worth while. He has alwaysheld himself apart. His father was much like him. All of themsoldiers and proud as men are made, these confounded, democraticdays. "

"And what of Boris?" asked Sunna. 

"May Boris rest wherever he is! Thou could not compare Boris withMaximus Grant. "

"That is the truth. In many ways they are not comparable. Boris is arough, passionate man. Grant is a gentleman. Always I thought therewas something common in me; that must be the reason why I preferBoris. "

"To vex me, thou art saying such untruthful words. I know thycontradictions! Go now and inquire after my tea. I am in want of it. "

During tea, nothing further was said of Maximus Grant; but Sunna wasin a very merry mood, and Adam watched her, and listened to her in aphilosophical way;--that is, he tried to make out amid all herpersiflage and bantering talk what was her ruling motive and intent--athing no one could have been sure of, unless they had heard hertalking to herself--that mysterious confidence in which we allindulge, and in which we all tell ourselves the truth. Sunna wasundressing her hair and folding away her clothing as she visited thisconfessional, but her revelations were certainly honest, even iffragmentary, and full of doubt and uncertainty. 

"Grant, indeed!" she exclaimed, "I am not ready for Grant--I believe Iam afraid of the man--he would make me over--make me like himself--ina month he would do it--I like Boris best! I should quarrel withBoris, of course, and we should say words neither polite nor kind toeach other; but then Boris would do as that blessed child said, 'Lookat me'; and I should look at him, and the making-up would begin. Heigh-ho! I wish it could begin tonight!" She was silent then for afew minutes, and in a sadder voice added--"with Max I should become anangel--and I should have a life without a ripple--I would hate it, just as I hate the sea when it lies like a mirror under thesunshine--then I always want to scream out for a great north wind andthe sea in a passion, shattering everything in its way. If I got intothat mood with Max, we should have a most unpleasant time----" and shelaughed and tossed her pillows about, and then having found acomfortable niche in one of them, she tucked her handsome head into itand in a few moments the sleep of youth and perfect health lulled herinto a secret garden in the Land of Dreams. 

The next day Sunna appeared to be quite oblivious regarding Grant'svisit and Vedder was too well acquainted with his granddaughter tospeak of it. He only noticed that she was dressed with a peculiarsimplicity and neatness. At three o'clock Grant was promptly at theVedder House, and at half-past four the land in question had beenvisited and subsequently bought and sold. Then the cup of tea came in, and the walk in the garden followed, and at six there was an amplemeal, and during the singing that followed it, Vedder fell fastasleep, as was his custom, and when he awoke Grant was just going andthe clock was striking ten. Vedder looked at Sunna and there was noneed for him to speak. 

"It was 'The Banded Men, '" said Sunna with a straight look at hergrandfather. 

"Well, then, I know a woman who is a match for any number of 'bandedmen. '"

"And in all likelihood that woman will be a Vedder. Good night, Grandfather. "

CHAPTER VII

THE CALL OF WAR

 I came not to send peace but a sword. --_Matt. X, 34. _

 For when I note how noble Nature's form Under the war's red pain, I deem it true That He who made the earthquake and the storm, Perchance made battles too. 

The summer passed rapidly away for it was full of new interests. Thora's wedding was to take place about Christmas or New Year, andthere were no ready-made garments in those days; so all of her girlfriends were eager to help her needle. Sunna spent half the day withher and all their small frets and jealousies were forgotten. Early inthe morning the work was lifted, and all day long it went happily on, to their light-hearted hopes and dreams. Then in June and SeptemberIan came to Kirkwall to settle his account with McLeod, and at thesame time, he remained a week as the Ragnors' guest. There was alsoSunna's intended visit to Edinburgh to talk about, and there wasnever a day in which the war and its preparations did not make itselfprominent. 

One of the pleasantest episodes of this period occurred early andrelated to Sunna. One morning she received a small box from London, and she was so amazed at the circumstance, that she kept examining theaddress and wondering "who could have sent it, " instead of opening thebox. However, when this necessity had been observed, it revealed toher a square leather case, almost like those used for jewelry, and herheart leaped high with expectation. It was something, however, thatpleased her much more than jewelry; it was a likeness of Boris, adaguerreotype--the first that had ever reached Kirkwall. A narrowscrap of paper was within the clasp, on which Boris had written, "I amall thine! Forget me not!"

Sunna usually made a pretense of despising anything sentimental butthis example filled her heart with joy and satisfaction. And after it, she took far greater pleasure in all the circumstances relating toThora's marriage; for she had gained a personal interest in them. Eventhe details of the ceremony were now discussed and arranged in accordwith Sunna's taste and suggestions. 

"The altar and nave must be decorated with flags and evergreens andall the late flowers we can secure, " she said. 

"There will not be many flowers, I fear, " answered Mistress Ragnor. 

"The Grants have a large greenhouse. I shall ask them to save all theypossibly can. Maximus Grant delights in doing a kindness. "

"Then thou must ask him, Sunna. He is thy friend--perhaps thy lover. So the talk goes. "

"Let them talk! My lover is far away. God save him!"

"Where then?"

"Where all good and fit men are gone--to the trenches. For my lover ismuch of a man, strong and brave-hearted. He adores his country, hishome, and his kindred. He counts honour far above money; and liberty, more than life. My lover will earn the right to marry the girl heloves, and become the father of free men and women!" And Rahalanswered proudly and tenderly:

"Thou art surely meaning my son Boris. "

"Indeed, thou art near to the truth. "

Then Rahal put her arm round Sunna and kissed her. "Thou hast made mehappy, " she said, and Sunna made her still more happy, when she tookout of the little bag fastened to her belt the daguerreotype andshowed her the strong, handsome face of her soldier-sailor boy. 

During all this summer Sunna was busy and regular. She was at theRagnors' every day until the noon hour. Then she ate dinner with hergrandfather, who was as eager to discuss the news and gossip Sunna hadheard, as any old woman in Kirkwall. He said: "Pooh! Pooh!" and"Nonsense!" but he listened to it, and it often served his purposebetter than words of weight and wisdom. 

In the afternoons Mistress Brodie was to visit, and the winter inEdinburgh to talk over. Coming home in time to take tea with hergrandfather, she devoted the first hour after the meal to practisingher best songs, and these lullabyed the old man to a sleep which oftenlasted until "The Banded Men" were attended to. It might then be teno'clock and she was ready to sleep. 

All through these long summer days, Thora was the natural source ofinterest and the inciting element of all the work and chatter thatturned the Ragnor house upside down and inside out; but Thora wasnaturally shy and quiet, and Sunna naturally expressive andpresuming; and it was difficult for their companions to keep Thora andSunna in their proper places. Every one found it difficult. Only whenIan was present, did Sunna take her proper secondary place and Ian, though the most faithful and attentive of lovers by mail, had onlybeen able to pay Thora one personal visit. This visit had occurred atthe end of June and he was expected again at the end of September. Theyear was now approaching that time and the Ragnor household was in astate of happy expectation. 

It was an unusual condition and Sunna said irritably: "They go onabout this stranger as if he were the son of Jupiter--and poor Boris!They never mention him, though there has been a big battle and Borismay have been in it. If Boris were killed, it is easy to see that thisIan Macrae would step into his place!"

"Nothing of that kind could happen! In thy own heart keep such foolishthoughts, " replied Vedder. 

So the last days of September were restless and not very happy, forthere was a great storm prevailing, and the winds roared and the rainfell in torrents and the sea looked as if it had gone mad. Before thestorm there was a report of a big battle, but no details of it hadreached them. For the Pentland Firth had been in its worst equinoctialtemper and the proviso added to all Orkney sailing notices, "weatherpermitting, " had been in full force for nearly a week. 

But at length the storm was over and everyone was on the lookout forthe delayed shipping. Thora was pale with intense excitement but allthings were in beautiful readiness for the expected guest. And Ian didnot disappoint the happy hopes which called him. He was on the firstship that arrived and it was Conall Ragnor's hand he clasped as hisfeet touched the dry land. 

Such a home-coming as awaited him--the cheerful room, the bountifullyspread table, the warm welcome, the beauty and love, mingling withthat sense of peace and rest and warm affection which completelysatisfies the heart. Would such a blissful hour ever come again to himin this life?

His pockets were full of newspapers, and they were all shouting overthe glorious opening of the war. The battle of Alma had been foughtand won; and the troops were ready and waiting for Inkerman. England'susual calm placidity had vanished in exultant rejoicing. "An Englishgentleman told me, " said Ian, "that you could not escape the chimes ofjoyful bells in any part of the ringing island. '"

Vedder had just entered the room and he stood still to listen to thesewords. Then he said: "Men differ. For the first victory let all thebells of England ring if they want to. We Norsemen like to keep ourbell-ringing until the fight is over and they can chime _Peace_. Andhow do you suppose, Ian Macrae, that the English and French will liketo fight together?"

"Well enough, sir, no doubt. Why not?"

"Of Waterloo I was thinking. Have the French forgotten it? Ian, it isthe very first time in all the history we have, that Frenchmen everfought with Englishmen in a common cause. Natural enemies they havebeen for centuries, fighting each other with a very good will wheneverthey got a chance. Have they suddenly become friends? Have they forgotWaterloo?" and he shook his wise old head doubtfully. 

"Who can tell, sir, but when the English conquer any nation, they feelkindly to them and usually give them many favours?"

"Well, then, every one knows that the same is both her pleasure andher folly; and dearly she pays for it. "

"Ian, " said Mistress Ragnor, "are the English ships now in the BlackSea? And if so, do you think Boris is with them?"

"About Boris, I do not know. He told me he was carrying 'material ofwar. ' The gentleman of whom I spoke went down to Spithead to see themoff. Her Majesty, in the royal yacht, _Fairy_, suddenly appeared. Thenthe flagship hauled home every rope by the silent 'all-at-once' actionof one hundred men. Immediately the rigging of the ships was blackwith sailors, but there was not a sound heard except an occasionalcommand--sharp, short and imperative--or the shrill order of theboatswain's whistle. The next moment, the Queen's yacht shot past thefleet and literally led it out to sea. Near the Nab, the royal yachthove to and the whole fleet sailed past her, carried swiftly out by afine westerly breeze. Her Majesty waved her handkerchief as theypassed and it is said she wept. If she had not wept she would havebeen less than a woman and a queen. "

While Vedder and Ragnor were discussing this incident, and comparingit with Cleopatra at the head of her fleet and Boadicea at the headof her British army and Queen Elizabeth at Tewksbury reviewing herarmy, Mrs. Ragnor and Thora left the room. Ian quickly followed. Therewas a bright fire in the parlour, and the piano was open. Iannaturally drifted there and then Thora's voice was wanted in the song. When it was finished, Mrs. Ragnor had been called out and they werealone. And though Mrs. Ragnor came back at intervals, they werepractically alone during the rest of the evening. 

What do lovers talk about when they are alone? Ah! their conversationis not to be written down. How unwritable it is! How wise it is! Howfoolish when written down! How supremely satisfying to the loversthemselves! Surely it is only the "baby-talk" of the wisdom not yetcomprehensible to human hearts! We often say of certain events; "Ihave no words to describe what I felt"--and who will find out orinvent the heavenly syllables that can adequately describe the divinepassion of two souls, that suddenly find their real mate--find thesoul that halves their soul, created for them, created with them, often lost or missed through diverse reincarnations; but sooner orlater found again and known as soon as found to both. No wooing isnecessary in such a case--they meet, they look, they love, andnaturally and immediately take up their old, but unforgotten lovepatois. They do not need to learn its sweet, broken syllables, itshand clasps and sighs, its glances and kisses; they are more naturalto them than was the grammared language they learned through years ofpainful study. 

Ian and Thora hardly knew how the week went. Every one respected theirposition and left them very much to their own inclinations. It ledthem to long, solitary walks, and to the little green skiff on themoonlit bay, and to short visits to Sunna, in order, mainly, that theymight afterwards tell each other how far sweeter and happier they werealone. 

They never tired of each other, and every day they recounted thenumber of days that had to pass ere Ian could call himself free fromthe McLeod contract. They were to marry immediately and Ian would gointo Ragnor's business as bookkeeper. Their future home was growingmore beautiful every day. It was going to be the prettiest little homeon the island. There was a good garden attached to it and a smallgreenhouse to save the potted plants in the winter. Ragnor hadordered its furniture from a famous maker in Aberdeen, and Rahal wasattending with love and skill to all those incidentals of modernhousekeeping, usually included in such words as silver, china, napery, ornaments, and kitchen-utensils. They were much interested in it andwent every fine day to observe its progress. Yet their interest in thehouse was far inferior to their interest in each other, and Sunna maywell be excused for saying to her grandfather:

"They are the most conceited couple in the world! In fact, the worldbelongs to them and all the men and women in it--the sun and the moonare made new for them, and they have the only bit of wisdom going. Ihope I may be able to say 'yes' to all they claim until Saturdaycomes. "

"These are the ways of love, Sunna. "

"Then I shall not walk in them. "

"Thou wilt walk in the way appointed thee. "

"Pure Calvinism is that, Grandfather. "

"So be it. I am a Calvinist about birth, death and marriage. They arethe events in life about which God interferes. His will and design isgenerally evident. "

"And quite as evident, Grandfather, is the fact that a great manypeople interfere with His will and design. "

"Yes, Sunna, because our will is free. Yet if our will crosses God'swill, crucifixion of some kind is sure to follow. "

"Well, then, today is Friday. The week has got itself over nearly; andtomorrow will be partly free, for Ian goes to Edinburgh at teno'clock. Very proper is that! Such an admirable young man ought onlyto live in a capitol city. "

"If these are thy opinions, keep them to thyself. Very popular is theyoung man. "

"Grandfather, dost thou think that I am walking in ankle-tights yet? Ican talk as the crowd talks, and I can talk to a sensible man likethee. Tomorrow brings release. I am glad, for Thora has forgotten me. I feel that very much. "

"Thou art jealous. "

Vedder's assertion was near the truth, for undeniably Ian and Thorahad been careless of any one but themselves. Yet their love was sovital and primitive, so unaffected and sincere, that it touched thesympathies of all. In this cold, far-northern island, it had all theglow and warmth of some rose-crowned garden of a tropical paradise. But such special days are like days set apart; they do not fit intoordinary life and cannot be continued long under any circumstances. Sothe last day came and Thora said:

"Mother, dear, it is a day in a thousand for beauty, and we are goingto get Aunt Brodie's carriage to ride over to Stromness and see thequeer, old town, and the Stones of Stenness. "

"Go not near them. If you go into the cathedral you go expecting somegood to come to you; for angels may be resting in its holy aisles, ready and glad to bless you. What will you ask of the ghosts among theStones of Stenness? Is there any favour you would take from the Baaland Moloch worshipped with fire and blood among them?"

"Why, Mother, " said Thora, "I have known many girls who went withtheir lovers to Stenness purposely to join their hands through thehole in Woden's Stone and thus take oath to love each other forever. "

"Thou and Ian will take that oath in the holy church of St. Magnus. "

"That is what we wish, Mother, " said Ian. "We wish nothing less thanthat. "

"Well, then, go and see the queer, old, old town, and go to theMason's Arms, and you will get there a good dinner. After it rideslowly back. Father will be home before six and must have his meal atonce. "

"That is the thing we shall do, Mother. Ian thought it would be soromantic to take a lunch with us and eat it among the Stones ofStenness. But the Mason's Arms will be better. The Masons are goodmen, Mother?"

"In all their generations, good men. Thy father is a Mason in highstanding. "

"Yes, that is so! Then the Mason's Arms may be lucky to us?"

"We make things lucky or unlucky by our willing and doing; but evenso, it is not lucky to defy or deny what the dead have once held to begood or bad. "

"Well, then, why, Mother?"

"Not now, will we talk of whys and wherefores. It is easier to believethan to think. Take, in this last day of Love's seven days, the fulljoy of your lives and ask not why of anyone. "

So the lovers went off gaily to see the land-locked bay and thestrange old town of Stromness; and the house was silent and lonelywithout them and Rahal wished that her husband would come home andtalk with her, for her soul was under a cloud of presentiments andshe said to herself after a morning of fretful, inefficient work: "Oh, how much easier it is to love God than it is to trust Him. Are not mydear ones in His care? Yet about them I am constantly worrying; thoughperfectly well I know that in any deluge that may come, God will findan ark for those who love and trust Him. Boris knows--Boris knows--Ihave told him. "

About three o'clock she went to the window and looked towards thetown. Much to her astonishment she saw her husband coming home at aspeed far beyond his ordinary walk. He appeared also to be disturbed, even angry, and she watched him anxiously until he reached the house. Then she was at the open door and his face frightened her. 

"Conall! My dear one! Art thou ill?" she asked. 

"I am ill with anger and pity and shame!"

"What is thy meaning? Speak to me plainly. "

"Oh, Rahal! the shame and the cruelty of it! I am beside myself!"

"Come to my room, then thou shalt tell thy sorrow and I will halve itwith thee. "

"No! I want to cry out! I want to shout the shameful wrong from thehouse-tops! Indeed, it is flying all over England and Scotland--overall the civilized world! And yet--my God! the guilty ones are stillliving!"

"Coll, my dear one, what is it thou most needs--cold water?"

"No! No! Get me a pot of hot tea. [*] My brain burns. My heart is liketo break! Our poor brave soldiers! They are dying of hunger and ofevery form of shameful neglect. The barest necessities of life aredenied them. "

 [*] The Norsemen of Shetland and Orkney drank tea in every kind of need or crisis. No meal without it, no pleasure without it; and it was equally indispensable in every kind of trouble or fatigue. 

"By whom? By whom, Coll?"

"Pacifists in power and office everywhere! Give me a drink! Give me adrink! I am ill--get me tea--and I will tell thee. "

There was boiling water on the kitchen hob, and the tea was ready infive minutes. "Drink, dear Coll, " said Rahal, "and then share thytrouble and anger with me. The mail packet brought the bad news, Isuppose?"

"Yes, about an hour ago. The town is in a tumult. Men are cursingand women are doing nothing less. Some whose sons are at the frontare in a distraction. If Aberdeen were within our reach we wouldgive him five minutes to say his prayers and then send him to thejudgment of God. Englishmen and Norsemen will not lie down and rotunder Russian tyranny. To die fighting against it sends them joyfullyto the battlefield! But oh, Rahal! to be left alone to die on thebattlefield, without help, without care, without even a drink ofcold water! It is damnable cruelty! What I say is this: let Englandstop her bell-ringing and shouts of victory until she has comfortedand helped her wounded and dying soldiers!"

"And Aberdeen? He is a Scotch nobleman--the Scotch are not cowards--whathas he done, Coll?"

"Because he hates fighting for our rights, he persuades all whom hispower and patronage can reach to lie down or he says they will beknocked down. So it may be, but every man that has a particle of theDivine in him would rather be knocked down than lie down--if down ithad to be--but there is no question of down in it! Aberdeen! He is'England's worst enemy'--and he holds the power given him by Englandto rule and ruin England! I wish he would die and go to judgment thisnight! I do! I do! and my soul says to me, 'Thou art right. '"

"Coll, no man knoweth the will of the Almighty. "

"Then they ought to! The question has now been up to England for atwo-years' discussion, and they have only to open His Word and find itout"; then he straightened himself and in a mighty burst of joyfulpride and enthusiasm cried out:

"'Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, andmy fingers to fight. 

"'My goodness, and my fortress, my high tower, and my deliverer, myshield, and He in whom I trust, who subdueth the people under me. '"

Anon he began to pace the floor as he continued: "'Rid us and deliverus, from the hands of strange children--whose mouth speaketh vanity, and whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood. ' Rahal, could therebe a better description of Russia--'her right hand of falsehood, hermouth speaking vanity?' David put the very words needed in our mouthswhen he taught us to say, 'rid us of such an enemy, and of all whostrike hands with him!' Yes, rid us. We want to be rid of all suchdead souls! Rid us. "

Then Rahal reminded her husband that only recently his physician hadwarned him against all excitement, especially of anger, and so finallyinduced him to take a sedative and go to sleep. But sleep was far fromher. She sat down in her own room and closed her eyes against allworldly sights and sounds. Her soul was trying to reach her son's souland impress upon it her own trust in the love and mercy of the "God ofbattles. " She had hoped that some word or thought of Boris would comeback to her in such a personal manner that she would feel that he wasthinking of her and of the many sweet spiritual confidences they hadhad together. 

But nothing came, no sign, no word, no sudden, flashing memory of somespecial promise. All was void and still until she heard the voices ofThora and Ian. Then she went down to them and found that the evil newshad met them on their way home. She asked Ian if he had any knowledgeof the whereabouts of Boris. Ian thought he might be at sea, as hisship was at Spithead among the carrying ships of the navy. "If he hadbeen in Alma's fight, you might have heard from him, " he added. "Itwould be his first battle and he would want to write to you about it. That would be only natural. "

"Well, then, I will look for good news. If bad news is coming, I willnot pay it the compliment of going to meet it. Have you had a pleasantday? Where first did you go?"

"To the land-locked Bay of Stromness which was full of ships of allsizes, of schooners, and of little skiffs painted a light green colourlike the pleasure skiffs of Kirkwall. "

"And the town?"

"Was very busy while we were there. It has but one long street, withsteep branches running directly up the big granite hill which sheltersit from the Atlantic. What I noticed particularly was, that the houseson the main street all had their gables seaward; and are so built thatthe people can step from their doors into their boats. I liked thatarrangement. Stromness is really an Orcadean Venice. The town is aqueer old place, with a non-English and non-Scotch look. The houseshave an old-world appearance and the names over the doorways carry youback to Norseland. Only one street is flagged and little bays run upinto the street through its whole length. But the place appeared to bevery busy and happy. I noticed few Scotch there, the people seemed tobe purely Norse. All were busy--men, women and children. "

"It used to be the last port for the Hudson Bay Company, " said Rahal, "and the big whaling fleets, and in days of war and convoys there werehundreds of big ships in its wonderful harbour. I suppose that you hadno time to visit any of the ancient monuments there?" Rahal asked. 

"No; Thora told me her grandmother Ragnor was buried in its cemeteryand that her grave was near the church door and had a white pillar atthe head of it. So we walked there. "

"Well, then?"

"I cannot describe to you the savage, lonely grandeur of itssituation. It frightened me. "

"The men and women who chose it were not afraid of it. "

"Thora says its memory frightened her for years. "

"Thora was only eight years old when her father placed the pillar atthe head of his mother's grave. It was then she saw it--but at eightyears many people are often more sensitive than at eighty. Yes, indeed! They may see, then, what eyes dimmed by earthly vision cannotsee, and feel what hearts hardened by earth's experiences cannotfeel. Thora's spiritual sight was very keen in childhood and is notdimmed yet. "

At these words Thora entered the room, wearing the little frock ofwhite barége she had saved for this last day of Ian's visit. Her facehad been bathed, her hair brushed and loosened but yet dressed withthe easiest simplicity. She was in trouble but she knew when to speakof trouble, and when to be silent. Her mother was talking ofStromness; when her father came, he would know all, and say all. Soshe went softly about the room, putting on the dinner table those lastfinal accessories that it was her duty to supply. 

Yet the conversation was careless and indifferent. Rahal talked ofStromness but her heart was far away from Stromness, and Thora wouldhave liked to tell her mother how beautifully their future home hadbeen papered, and all three were eager to discuss the news that hadcome. But all knew well that it would be better not to open thediscussion till Ragnor was present to inform and direct theirignorance of events. 

On the stroke of six, Ragnor entered. He had slept and washed and wasapparently calm, but in some way his face had altered, for his hearthad mastered his brain and its usual expression of intellectualstrength was exchanged for one of intense feeling. His eyes shone andhe had the look of a man who had just come from the presence of God. 

"We are waiting for you, dear Coll, " said Rahal; and he answeredsoftly: "Well, then, I am here. " For a moment his eyes rested onthe table which Rahal had set with extra care and with the delicaciesIan liked best. Was it not the last dinner he would eat with themfor three months? She thought it only kind to give it a littledistinction. But this elaboration of the usual home blessings did notproduce the expected results. Every one was anxious, the atmosphereof the room was tense and was not relieved until Ragnor had said agrace full of meaning and had sat down and asked Ian if he "had heardthe news brought by that day's packet?"

"Very brokenly, Father, " was the answer. "Two men, whom we met on theStromness road, told us that it was 'bad with the army, ' but they wereexcited and in a great hurry and would not stand to answer ourquestions. "

"No wonder! No wonder!"

"Whatever is the matter, Father?"

"I cannot tell you. The words stumble in my throat, and my heartburns and bleeds. Here is the _London Times_! Read aloud from it whatWilliam Howard Russell has witnessed--I cannot read the words--I wouldbe using my own words--listen, Rahal! Listen, Thora! and oh, may Godenter into judgment at once with the men responsible for the miserythat Russell tells us of. "

At this point, Adam Vedder entered the room. He was in a passion thatwas relieving itself by a torrent of low voiced curses--curses onlyjust audible but intensely thrilling in their half-whispered tones ofpassion. In the hall he had taken off his hat but on entering the roomhe found it too warm for his top-coat, and he began to remove it, muttering to himself while so doing. There was an effort to hear whathe was saying but very quickly Ragnor stopped the monologue bycalling:

"Adam! Thee! Thou art the one wanted. Ian is just going to read whatthe _London Times_ says of this dreadful mismanagement. "

"'Mismanagement!' Is that what thou calls the crime? Go on, Ian! Morelight on this subject is wanted here. "

So Ian stood up and read from the _Times'_ correspondent's letter thefollowing sentences:

 "The skies are black as ink, the wind is howling over the staggering tents, the water is sometimes a foot deep, our men have neither warm nor waterproof clothing and we are twelve hours at a time in the trenches--and not a soul seems to care for their comfort or even their lives; the most wretched beggar who wanders about the streets of London in the rain leads the life of a prince compared with the British soldiers now fighting out here for their country. 

 . .. "The commonest accessories of a hospital are wanting; there is not the least attention paid to decency or cleanliness, the stench is appalling, the fetid air can barely struggle out through chinks in the walls and roofs, and for all I can observe the men die without the least effort being made to save them. They lie just as they were let down on the ground by the poor fellows, their comrades, who brought them on their backs from the camp with the greatest tenderness but who are not allowed to remain with them. The sick appear to be tended by the sick, and the dying by the dying. There are no nurses--and men are literally dying hourly, because the medical staff of the British army has forgotten that old rags of linen are necessary for the dressing of wounds. "

"My God!" cried Ian, as he let the paper fall from the hands heclasped passionately together, "My God! How can Thou permit this?"

"Well, then, young man, " said Adam, "thou must remember that Godpermits what He does not will. And Conall, " he continued, "millionshave been voted and spent for war and hospital materials, where arethe goods?"

"The captain of the packet told me no one could get their hands onthem. Some are in the holds of vessels and other things so piled onthe top of them that they cannot be got at till the hold is regularlyemptied. Some are stored in warehouses which no one has authority toopen--some are actually rotting on the open wharves, because theprecise order to remove them to the hospital cannot be found. Thesurgeons have no bandages, the doctors no medicine, and as I saidthere are no nurses but a few rough military orderlies. The situationparalyses those who see it!"

"Paralyses! Pure nonsense!" cried Vedder, whose face was wet withpassionate tears, though he did not know it. "Paralyses! No, no! Itmust make them work miracles. I am going to Edinburgh tomorrow. I amgoing to buy all the luxuries and medicines I can afford for the ladsfighting and suffering. Sunna is going to spend a week in gatheringold linen in Kirkwall and then Mistress Brodie and she will bring itwith them. Rahal, Thora, you must do your best. And thou, Conall?"

"Adam, thou can open my purse and take all thou thinks is right. MyBoris may be among those dear lads; his mother will have something tosend him. Wilt thou see it is set on a fair way to reach his hand?"

"I will take it to him. If he be in London with his vessel, I willfind him; if he be at the front, I will find him. If he be in Scutarihospital, I will find him!"

"Oh, Adam, Adam!" cried Rahal, "thou art the good man that God loves, the man after His own heart. " Her face was set and stern and white assnow, and Thora's was a duplicate of it; but Ragnor, during his shortinterval of rest, had arrived at that heighth and depth of confidencein God's wisdom which made him sure that in the end the folly andwickedness of men would "praise Him"; so he was ready to help, andcalm and strong in his sorrow. 

At this point, Rahal rose and a servant came in and began to clear thetable and carry away the remains of the meal. Then Rahal rose and tookThora's hand and Ian went with them to the parlour. She spoke kindlyto Ian who at her first words burst into bitter weeping, into analmost womanly burst of uncontrollable distress. So she kissed andleft him with the only woman who had the power to soothe, in anydegree, the sense of utter helplessness which oppressed him. 

"I want to go to the Crimea!" he said, "I would gladly go there. Itwould give me a chance to die happily. It would repay me for all mymiserable life. I want to go, Thora. You want me to go, Thora! Yes, you do, dear one!"

"No, I do not want you to go. I want you here. Oh, what a selfishcoward I am. Go, Ian, if you wish--if you feel it right to go, thengo. "

This subject was sufficient to induce a long and strange conversationduring which Thora was led to understand that some great and cruelcircumstances had ruined and in some measure yet controlled herlover's life. She was begging him to go and talk to her father andtell him all that troubled him so cruelly when Rahal entered the roomagain. 

"Dear ones, " she said, "the house is cold and the lamps nearly out. Say good night, now. Ian must be up early--and tomorrow we shall havea busy day collecting all the old linen we can. " She was yet as whiteas the long dressing gown she wore but there was a smile on her facethat made it lovely as she recited slowly:

 "Watching, wondering, yearning, knowing Whence the stream, and where 'tis going Seems all mystery--by and by He will speak, and tell us why. "

And the simple words had a charm in them, and though they said "Goodnight, " in a mist of tears, the sunshine of hope turned them into thatwonderful bow which God 'bended with his hands' and placed in theheavens as a token of His covenant with man, that He would alwaysremember man's weakness and give him help in time of trouble. Now letevery good man and woman say "I'll warrant it! I never yet found adeluge of any kind but I found also that God had provided an ark formy refuge and my comfort. "

CHAPTER VIII

THORA'S PROBLEM

 There is a tear for all who die, A mourner o'er the humblest grave; But nations swell the funeral cry, And triumph weeps above the brave. For them is Sorrow's purest sigh, O'er Ocean's heaving bosom sent In vain their bones unburied lie, All earth becomes their monument. 

 Born to the War of 1854 on October 21, 1854, a Daughter, called Red Cross. 

The next night Vedder went away. His purposes were necessarily rathervague, but it was certain he would go to the front if he thought hecould do any good there. He talked earnestly and long with Ragnor butwhen it came to parting, both men were strangely silent. They claspedhands and looked long and steadily into each other's eyes. No wordscould interpret that look. It was a conversation for eternity. 

In the meantime, the whole town was eager to do something but whatcould they do that would give the immediate relief that was needed?There were no sewing machines then, women's fingers and needles couldnot cope with the difficulty, even regarding the Orkney men who weresuffering. To gather from every one the very necessary old linenseemed to be the very extent of their usefulness. 

In these first days of the trouble, Rahal and Thora were serious andquiet. A dull, inexplicable melancholy shrouded the girl like agarment. The pretty home preparing for Ian and herself lost itsinterest. She refused to look forward and lived only in the unhappypresent. The few words Ian has said about some wrong or trouble in thepast years of his life overshadowed her. She was naturally veryprescient and her higher self dwelt much in

 . .. That finer atmosphere, Where footfalls of appointed things, Reverberent of days to be, Are heard in forecast echoings, Like wave beats from a viewless sea. 

However, if trouble lasts through the night, joy, or at least hope andexpectation, comes in the morning; and certainly the first shock ofgrief settled down into patient hoping and waiting. Vedder and Ianwere both good correspondents and the silence and loneliness wereconstantly broken by their interesting letters. And joyful orsorrowful, Time goes by. 

Sunna wrote occasionally but she said she found Edinburgh dull, andthat she would gladly return to Kirkwall if it was not for thePentland Firth and its winter tempers and tantrums. 

 The war [she added] has stopped all balls and even house parties. There is no dancing and no sports of any kind, and I believe skating and golf have been forbidden. Love-making is the only recreation allowed and I am not tempted to sin in this direction. The churches are always open and their bells clatter all day long. I have no lovers. Every man will talk of the war, and then they get offended if you ask them why they are not gone. I have had the pleasure of saying a few painful truths to these feather-bed patriots, and they tell each other, no doubt, that I am impossible and impertinent. One of them said to me, myself: "Wait a wee, Miss Vedder, I wouldna wonder but some crippled war lad will fa' to your lot, when the puir fellows come marching home again. " The Edinburgh men are just city flunkeys, they would do fine to wait on our Norse men. I would like well to see a little dandy advocate I know here, trotting after Boris. 

So days came and went, and the passion of shame and sorrow died downand people did not talk of the war. But the doors of St. Magnus stoodopen all day long and there were always women praying there. They hadbegun to carry their anxieties and griefs to God; and that was wellfor God did not weary of their complaining. Women have the very heartof sympathy for a man's griefs. God is the only refuge for a sorrowfulwoman. 

Steadily the preparations for Thora's marriage went on, but the spiritthat animated their first beginnings had cooled down into that calmnecessity, which always has to attend to all "finishings off. " Earlyin December, Thora's future home was quite finished, and this lastword expresses its beauty and completeness. Then Ragnor kissed hisdaughter, and put into her hand the key of the house and the deed ofgift which made it her own forever. And in this same hour they decidedthat the first day of the New Year should be the wedding day; forBishop Hedley would then be in Kirkwall and who else could marry thelittle Thora whom he had baptised and confirmed and welcomed into thefold of the church. 

Nothing is more remarkable than the variety of moods in which womentake the solemn initiatory rite ushering them into their real lifeand their great and honourable duties. Thora was joyful as a bird inspring and never weary of examining the lovely home, the perfectwardrobe, and the great variety of beautiful presents that had beengiven her. 

Very soon it was the twentieth of December, and Ian was expected onthe twenty-third. Christmas preparations had now taken the place ofmarriage preparations for every item was ready for the latter event. There had been a little anxiety about the dress and veil, but theyarrived on the morning of the twentieth and were beautiful and fittingin every respect. The dress was of the orthodox white satin and theveil fell from a wreath of orange flowers and myrtle leaves. And oh, how proud and happy Thora was in their possession. Several times thatwonderful day she had run secretly to her room to examine and admirethem. 

On the morning of the twenty-first she reminded herself that in twodays Ian would be with her and that in nine days she would be hiswife. She was genuine and happy about the event. She made no pretencesor reluctances. She loved Ian with all her heart, she was glad she wasgoing to be always with him. Life would then be full and she would bethe happiest woman in the world. She asked her father at the breakfasttable to send her, at once, any letters that might come for her in hismail. "I am sure there will be one from Ian, " she said, "and, dearFather, it hurts me to keep it waiting. "

About ten o'clock, Mrs. Beaton called and brought Thora a veryhandsome ring from Maximus Grant and a bracelet from herself. Shestayed to lunch with the Ragnors and after the meal was over, theywent upstairs to look at the wedding dress. "I want to see it on you, Thora, " said Mrs. Beaton, "I shall have a wedding dress to buy for myniece soon and I would like to know what kind of a fit Mrs. Scottachieves. " So Thora put on the dress, and Mrs. Beaton admitted that it"fit like a glove" and that she should insist on her niece Helen goingto Mrs. Scott. 

With many scattering, delaying remarks and good wishes, the ladyfinally bid Thora good-bye and Mrs. Ragnor went downstairs with her. Then Thora eagerly lifted two letters that had come in her father'smail and been sent home to her. One was from Ian. "The last he willwrite to Thora Ragnor, " she said with a smile. "I will put it withhis first letter and keep them all my life long. So loving is he, sogood, so handsome! There is no one like my Ian. " Twice over she readhis loving letter and then laid it down and lifted the one which hadcome with it. 

"Jean Hay, " she repeated, "who is Jean Hay?" Then she remembered thewriter--an orphan girl living with a married brother who did notalways treat her as kindly as he should have done. Hearing andbelieving this story, Rahal Ragnor hired the girl, taught her how tosew, how to mend and darn and in many ways use her needle. Thendiscovering that she had a genius for dressmaking, she placed her witha first-class modiste in Edinburgh to be properly instructed andliberally attended to all financial requisites; for Rahal Ragnor couldnot do anything unless it was wholly and perfectly done. Then Thorahad dressed Jean from her own wardrobe and asked her father to sendtheir protegée to Edinburgh on one of the vessels he controlled. AndJean had been heartily grateful, had done well, and risen to a placeof trust in her employer's business; and a few times every year shewrote to Mrs. Ragnor or Thora. All these circumstances were rememberedby Thora in a moment. "Jean Hay!" she exclaimed. "Well, Jean, youmust wait a few minutes, until I have taken off my wedding dress. I amsorry I had to put it on--it was not very kind or thoughtful of Mrs. Beaton to ask me--I don't believe mother liked her doing so--motherhas a superstition or fret about everything. Well, then, it is no wayspoiled----" and she lifted it and the white silk petticoat belongingto the dress and carefully put them in the place Rahal had selected asthe safest for their keeping. It was a large closet in the spare roomand she went there with them. As she returned to her own room sheheard her mother welcoming a favourite visitor and it pleased her. "Now I need not hurry, " she thought. "Mistress Vorn will stay an hourat least, and I can take my own time. "

"Taking her own time" evidently meant to Thora the reading of Ian'sletter over again. And also a little musing on what Ian had said. There was, however, no hurry about Jean Hay's letter and it was sopleasant to drift among the happy thoughts that crowded into herconsideration. So for half an hour Jean's letter lay at her sideuntouched--Jean was so far outside her dreams and hopes thatafternoon--but at length she lifted it and these were the words sheread:

 DEAR MISS THORA:

 I was hearing since last spring that thou wert going to be married on the son of the Rev. Dr. Macrae--on the young man called John Calvin Macrae. Very often I was hearing this, and always I was answering, "There will be no word of truth in that story. Miss Ragnor will not be noticing such a young man as that. No, indeed!"

Here Thora threw down the letter and sat looking at it upon the flooras if she would any moment tear it to pieces. But she did not, shefinally lifted it and forced herself to continue reading:

 I was hating to tell thee some things I knew, and I was often writing and then tearing up my letter, for it made me sick to be thy true friend in such a cruel way. But often I have heard the wise tell "when the knife is needed, the salve pot will be of no use. " Now then, this day, I tell myself with a sad heart, "Jean, thou must take the knife. The full time has come. "

"Why won't the woman tell what she has got to tell, " said Thora in avoice of impatient anguish, and in a few minutes she whispered, "I amcold. " Then she threw a knitted cape over her shoulders and lifted theletter again, oh, so reluctantly, and read:

 The young man will have told your father, that he is McLeod's agent and a sort of steward of his large properties. This does not sound like anything wrong, but often I have been told different. Old McLeod left to his son many houses. Three of them are not good houses, they are really fashionable gambling houses. Macrae has the management of them as well as of many others in various parts of the city. Of these others I have heard no wrong. I suppose they may be quite respectable. 

 This story has more to it. Whenever there is a great horse race there Macrae will be, and I saw myself in the daily newspapers that his name was among the winners on the horse Sergius. It was only a small sum he won, but sin is not counted in pounds and shillings. No, indeed! So there is no wonder his good father is feeling the shame of it. 

 Moreover, though he calls himself Ian, that is not his name. His name is John Calvin and his denial of his baptismal name, given to him at the Sabbath service, in the house of God, at the very altar of the same, is thought by some to be a denial of God's grace and mercy. And he has been reasoned with on this matter by the ruling elder in his father's kirk, but no reason would he listen to, and saying many things about Calvin I do not care to write. 

 Many stories go about young men and young women, and there is this and that said about Macrae. I have myself met him on Prince's Street in the afternoon very often, parading there with various gayly dressed women. I do not blame him much for that. The Edinburgh girls are very forward, not like the Norse girls, who are modest and retiring in their ways. I am forced to say that Macrae is a very gay young man, and of course you know all that means without more words about it. He dresses in the highest fashion, goes constantly to theatres with some lady or other, and I do not wonder that people ask, "Where does he get the money? Does he gamble for it?" For he does not go to any kirk on the Sabbath unless he is paid to go there and sing, which he does very well, people say. In his own rooms he is often heard playing the piano and singing music that is not sacred or fit for the holy day. And his father is the most religious man in Edinburgh. It is just awful! I fear you will never forgive me, Miss Thora, but I have still more and worse to tell you, because it is, as I may say, personally heard and not this or that body's clash-ma-claver. Nor did I seek the same, it came to me through my daily work and in a way special and unlooked-for, so that after hearing it, my conscience would no longer be satisfied and I was forced, as it were, to the writing of this letter to you. 

 I dare say Macrae may have spoken to you anent his friendship with Agnes and Willie Henderson, indeed Willie Henderson and John Macrae have been finger and thumb ever since they played together. Now Willie's father is an elder in Dr. Macrae's kirk and if all you hear anent him be true--which I cannot vouch for--he is a man well regarded both in kirk and market place--that is, he was so regarded until he married again about two years ago. For who, think you, should he marry but a proud upsetting Englishwoman, who was bound to be master and mistress both o'er the hale household?

 Then Miss Henderson showed fight and her brother Willie stood by her. And Miss Henderson is a spunky girl and thought bonnie by some people, and has a tongue so well furnished with words to defend what she thinks her rights, that it leaves nobody uncertain as to what thae rights may be. Weel, there has been nothing but quarreling in the elder's house ever since the unlucky wedding; and in the first year of the trial Willie Henderson borrowed money--I suppose of John Macrae--and took himself off to America, and some said the elder was glad of it and others said he was sair down-hearted and disappointed. 

 After that, Miss Agnes was never friends with her stepmother. It seems the woman wanted her to marry a nephew of her ain kith and kin, and in this matter her father was of the same mind. The old man doubtless wanted a sough of peace in his own home. That was how things stood a couple of weeks syne, but yestreen I heard what may make the change wanted. This is how it happened. 

 Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Baird came to Madame David's to have a black velvet gown fitted. Madame called on Jean Hay to attend her in the fitting and to hang the long skirt properly--for it is a difficult job to hang a velvet skirt, and Jean Hay is thought to be very expert anent the set and swing of silk velvet, which has a certain contrariness of its own. Let that pass. I was kneeling on the floor, setting the train, when Mrs. Baird said: "I suppose you have heard, Madame, the last escapade of that wild son of the great Dr. Macrae?" Then I was all ears, the more so when I heard Madam say: "I heard a whisper of something, but I was not heeding it. Folks never seem to weary of finding fault with the handsome lad. "

 "Well, Madame, " said Mrs. Baird, "I happen to know about this story. Seeing with your own eyes is believing, surely!"

 "What did you see?" Madame asked. 

 "I saw enough to satisfy me. You know my house is opposite to the West End Hotel, and last Friday I saw Macrae go there and he was dressed up to the nines. He went in and I felt sure he had gone to call on some lady staying there. So I watched, and better watched, for he did not come out for two hours, and I concluded they had lunched together! For when Macrae came out of the hotel, he spoke to a cabman, and then waited until a young lady and her maid appeared. He put the young lady into the cab, had a few minutes' earnest conversation with her, then the maid joined her mistress and they two drove away. "

 "Well, now, Mrs. Baird, " said Madame, "there was nothing in that but just a courteous luncheon together. "

 "Wait, Madame! I felt there was more, so I took a book and sat down by my window. And just on the edge of the dark I saw the two women return, and a little later a waiter put lights in an upper parlour and he spread a table for dinner there and Macrae and the young lady ate it together. Afterwards they went away in a cab together. " Then Madame asked if the maid was with them, and Mrs. Baird said she thought she was but had not paid particular attention. 

 Madame said something to me about the length of the train and then Mrs. Baird seemed annoyed at her inattention, and she added: "Macrae was advertised to sing in the City Hall the next night at a mass meeting of citizens about abrogating slavery in the United States, and he was not there--broke his engagement! What do you think of that? The next night, Sabbath, he did the same to Dr. Fraser's kirk, where he had promised to sing a pro-Christmas canticle. And this morning I heard that he is going to the Orkneys to marry a rich and beautiful girl who lives there. Now what do you think of your handsome Macrae? I can tell you he is on every one's tongue. " And Madame said, "I have no doubt of it and I'll warrant nobody knows what they are talking about. "

 After this the fitting on was not pleasant and I finished my part of it as quickly as possible. Indeed, Miss Thora, I was miserable about you and so pressed in spirit to tell you these things that I could hardly finish my day's work. For my conscience kept urging me to do my duty to you, for it is many favours you have done me in the past. Kindly pardon me now, and believe me, Your humble but sincere friend, JEAN HAY. 

This letter Thora read to the last word but she was nearly blind whenshe reached it. All her senses rang inward. "I am dying!" she thought, and she tried to reach the bed but only succeeded in stumbling againsta small table full of books, knocking it down and falling with it. 

Mistress Ragnor and her visitor heard the fall and they were suddenlysilent. Immediately, however, they went to the foot of the stairwayand called, "Thora. " There was no answer, and the mother's heart sanklike lead, as she hastened to her daughter's room and threw open thedoor. Then she saw her stricken child, lying as if dead upon thefloor. Cries and calls and hurrying feet followed, and the unconsciousgirl was quickly freed from all physical restraints and laid at theopen window. But all the ordinary household methods of restoringconsciousness were tried without avail and the case began to assume adangerous aspect. 

At this moment Ragnor arrived. He knelt at his child's side and drewher closer and closer, whispering her name with the name of the DivineOne; and surely it was in response to his heart-breaking entreatiesthe passing soul listened and returned. "Father, " was the firstwhisper she uttered; and with a glowing, grateful heart, the fatherlifted her in his arms and laid her on her bed. 

Then Rahal gave him the two letters and sent him away. Thora was still"far off, " or she would have remembered her letters but it was nearthe noon of the next day when she asked her mother where they were. 

"Thy father has them. "

"I am sorry, so sorry!"

That was all she said but the subject appeared to distress her for sheclosed her eyes, and Rahal kissed away the tears that slowly foundtheir way down the white, stricken face. However, from this hour sherallied and towards night fell into a deep sleep which lasted forfourteen hours; and it was during this anxious period of waiting thatRagnor talked to his wife about the letters which were, presumably, the cause of the trouble. 

"Those letters I gave thee, Coll, did thou read both of them?"

"Both of them I read. Ian's was the happy letter of an expectantbridegroom. Only joy and hope was in it. It was the other one that wasa death blow. Yes, indeed, it was a bad, cruel letter!"

"And the name? Who wrote it?"

"Jean Hay. "

"Jean Hay! What could Jean have to do with Thora's affairs?"

"Well, then, her conscience made her interfere. She had heard someevil reports about Ian's life and she thought it her duty, after yoursand Thora's kindness to her, to report these stories. "

"A miserable return for our kindness! This is what I notice--whenpeople want to say cruel things, they always blame their conscience ortheir duty for making them do it. "

"Here is Jean's letter. Thou, thyself, must read it. "

Rahal read it with constantly increasing anger and finally threw it onthe table with passionate scorn. "Not one word of this stuff do Ibelieve, Coll! Envy and jealousy sent that news, not gratitude andgood will! No, indeed! But I will tell thee, Coll, one thing I havealways found sure, it is this; that often, much evil comes to the goodfrom taking people out of their poverty and misfortunes. They arepaying a debt they owe from the past and if we assume that debt wehave it to pay in some wise. That is the wisdom of the old, the wisdomlearned by sad experience. I wish, then, that I had let the girl payher own debt and carry her own burden. She is envious of Thora. Yetwas Thora very good to her. Do I believe in her gratitude? Not I! Hadshe done this cruel thing out of a kind heart, she would have sentthis letter to me and left the telling or the not telling to my loveand best judgment. I will not believe anything against Ian Macrae!Nothing at all!"

"Much truth is in thy words, Rahal, and it is not on Jean Hay's letterI will do anything. I will take only Ian's 'yes, ' or 'no' on anyaccusation. "

"You may do that safely, Coll, I know it. "

"And I will go back to Edinburgh with him and see his father. Perhapswe have all taken the youth too far on his handsome person and hissweet amiability. "

"Thou wrote to his father when Thora was engaged to him, with thypermission. "

"Well, then, I did. "

"What said his father?"

"Too little! He was cursed short about all I named. I told him Thorawas good and fair and well educated; and that she would have her fullshare in my estate. I told him all that I intended to do for themabout their home and the place which I intended for Ian in mybusiness, and referred him to Bishop Hedley as to my religious, financial, social and domestic standing. "

"Why did thou name Bishop Hedley to him? They are as far apart asLeviticus and St. John. And what did he say to thee in reply?"

"That my kindness was more than his son deserved, etc. In response toour invitation to be present at the marriage ceremony, he said it wasquite impossible, the journey was too long and doubtful, especially inthe winter; that he was subject to sea-sickness and did not like toleave his congregation over Sunday. Rahal, I felt the paper on whichhis letter was written crinkling and crackling in my hand, it was thatstiff with ecclesiastic pomp and spiritual pride. I would not showthee the letter, I put it in the fire. "

"Poor Ian! I think then, that he has had many things to suffer. "

"Rahal, this is what I will do. I will meet the packet on Saturday andwe will go first to my office and talk the Hay letter over together. If I bring Ian home with me, then something is possible, but if I comehome alone, then Thora must understand that all is over--that theyoung man is not to be thought of. "

"That would kill her. "

"So it might be. But better is death than a living misery. If Ian iswhat Jean Hay says he is, could we think of our child living with him?Impossible! Rahal, dear wife, whatever can be done I will do, and thatwith wisdom and loving kindness. Thy part is harder, it must be withour dear Thora. "

"That is so. And if there has to be parting, it will be almostimpossible to spread the plaster as far as the sore. "

"There is the Great Physician----"

"I know. "

"Tell her what I have said. "

"I will do that; but just yet, she is not minding much what any onesays. "

However, on Saturday afternoon Thora left her bed and dressed herselfin the gown she had prepared for her bridegroom's arrival. The nervousshock had been severe and she looked woefully like, and yet unlike, herself. Her eyes were full of tears, she trembled, she could hardlysupport herself. If one should take a fresh green leaf and pass overit a hot iron, the change it made might represent the change in Thora. Jean Hay's letter had been the hot iron passed over her. She had beentold of her father's decision, but she clung passionately to her faithin Ian and her claim on her father's love and mercy. 

"Father will do right, " she said, "and if he does, Ian will come homewith him. "

The position was a cruel one to Conall Ragnor and he went to meet thepacket with a heavy heart. Then Ian's joyful face and his impatienceto land made it more so, and Ragnor found it impossible to connectwrong-doing with the open, handsome countenance of the youth. On thecontrary, he found himself without intention declaring:

"Well, then, I never found anything the least zig-zaggery about whathe said or did. His words and ways were all straight. That is thetruth. "

Yet Ian's happy mood was instantly dashed by Ragnor's manner. He didnot take his offered hand and he said in a formal tone: "Ian, we willgo to my office before we go to the house. I must ask thee somequestions. "

"Very well, sir. Thora, I hope, is all right?"

"No. She has been very ill. "

"Then let me go to her, sir, at once. "

"Later, I will see about that. "

"Later is too late, let us go at once. If Thora is sick----"

"Be patient. It is not well to talk of women on the street. No wiseman, who loves his womenkin, does that. "

Then Ian was silent; and the walk through the busy streets was like awalk in a bad dream. The place and circumstances felt unreal and hewas conscious of the sure presence of a force closing about him, evento his finger tips. Vainly he tried to think. He felt the troublecoming nearer and nearer, but what was it? What had he done? What hadhe failed to do? What was he to be questioned about?

Young as he was his experiences had taught him to expect only injuryand wrong. The Ragnor home and its love and truth had been the miraclethat had for nine months turned his brackish water of life into wine. Was it going to fail him, as everything else had done? He laughedinwardly at the cruel thought and whispered to himself: "This, too, can be borne, but oh, Thora, Thora!" and the two words shattered hispride and made him ready to weep when he sat down in Ragnor's officeand saw the kind, pitiful face of the elder man looking at him. Itgave him the power he needed and he asked bluntly what questions hewas required to answer. 

Ragnor gave him the unhappy letter and he read it with a look of angerand astonishment. "Father, " he said, "all this woman writes is trueand not true; and of all accusations, these are the worst to defend. Imust go back to my very earliest remembrances in order to fairly statemy case, and if you will permit me to do this, in the presence ofyour wife and Thora, I will then accept whatever decision you make. "

For at least three minutes Ragnor made no answer. He sat with closedeyes and his face held in the clasp of his left hand. Ian was bendingforward, eagerly watching him. There was not a movement, not a sound;it seemed as if both men hardly breathed. But when Ragnor moved, hestood up. "Let us be going, " he said, "they are anxious. They arewatching. You shall do as you say, Ian. "

Rahal saw them first. Thora was lying back in her mother's chair withclosed eyes. She could not bear to look into the empty road watchingfor one who might be gone forever. Then in a blessed moment, Rahalwhispered, "They are coming!"

"Both? Both, Mother?"

"Both!"

"Thank God!" And she would have cried out her thanks and bathed themin joyful tears if she had been alone. But Ian must not see herweeping. Now, especially, he must be met with smiles. And then, whenshe felt herself in Ian's embrace, they were both weeping. But oh, howgreat, how blessed, how sacramental are those joys that we baptisewith tears!

During the serving of dinner there was no conversation but suchas referred to the war and other public events. Many great oneshad transpired since they parted, and there was plenty to talkabout: the battles of Balaklava and Inkerman had been fought; thenever-to-be-forgotten splendour of Scarlett's Charge with theHeavy Brigade, and the still more tragically splendid one of theLight Brigade, had both passed into history. 

More splendid and permanent than these had been the trumpet "call" ofRussell in the _Times_, asking the women of England who among themwere ready to go to Scutari Hospital and comfort and help the mendying for England? "Now, " he cried, "The Son of God goes forth to war! Who follows in His train?"

Florence Nightingale and her band of trained nurses, mainly from theRoman Catholic Sisters of Mercy, and St. John's Protestant House, wasthe instant answer. In six days they were ready and without anyflourish of trumpets, at the dark, quiet midnight, they left Englandfor Scutari and in that hour the Red Cross Society was born. 

"How long is it since they sailed?" asked Rahal. 

"A month, " answered Ian, "but the controversy about it is still ragingin the English papers. "

"What has anyone to say against it?" asked Rahal. "The need wasdesperate, the answer quick. What, then, do they say?"

"The prudery of the English middle class was shocked at the idea ofyoung women nursing in military hospitals. They considered it 'highlyimproper. ' Others were sure women would be more trouble than help. Many expect their health to fail, and think they will be sent back toEnglish hospitals in a month. "

"I thought, " said Ragnor, "that the objections were chieflyreligious. "

"You are right, " replied Ian. "The Calvinists are afraid MissNightingale's intention is to make the men Catholics in their dyinghour. Others feel sure Miss Nightingale is an Universalist, or anUnitarian, or a Wesleyan Methodist. The fact is, Florence Nightingaleis a devout Episcopalian. "

A pleasant little smile parted Ragnor's lips, and he said with anEpiscopalian suavity: "The Wesleyans and the Episcopalians, indoctrine, are much alike. We regard them as brethren;" and just whilehe spoke, Ragnor looked like some ecclesiastical prelate. 

"There is little to wonder at in the churches disagreeing about MissNightingale, " said Rahal, "it is not to be expected that they wouldbelieve in her, when they do not believe in each other. " As she spokeshe stepped to the fireside and touched the bell rope, and a servantentered and began to clear the table and put more wood on the fire, and to turn out one of the lamps at Rahal's order. Ragnor had gone outto have a quiet smoke in the fresh air while Rahal was sending off allthe servants to a dance at the Fisherman's Hall. Ian and Thora werenot interested in these things; they sat close together, talkingsoftly of their own affairs. 

Without special request, they drew closer to the hearth and to eachother. Then Ragnor took out a letter and handed it to Ian. He wassitting at Thora's side and her hand was in his hand. He let it falland took the letter offered him. 

"I cannot explain this letter, " he said, "unless I preface it withsome facts regarding my unhappy childhood and youth. I am, as youknow, the son of Dr. Macrae, but I have been a disinherited son eversince I can remember. I suppose that in my earliest years I was lovedand kindly treated, but I have no remembrance of that time. I knowonly that before I was five years old, my father had accepted thesolemn conviction that I was without election to God's grace. Personally I was a beautiful child, but I was received and considered, body and soul, as unredeemable. Father then regarded me as a Divinedecree which it was his duty to receive with a pious acquiescence. Mymother pitied and, in her way, loved me, and suffered much with me. Ihave a little sister also, who would like to love me, but there is inall her efforts just that touch of Phariseeism which destroys love. "

"But, Ian, there must have been some reason for your father'sremarkable conviction?"

"That is most likely. If so, he never explained the fact to me or evento my mother. She told me once that he did not suspect that I hadmissed God's election until I was between five and six years old. Isuppose that about that age I began to strengthen his cruel fear by myantipathy to the kirk services and my real and unfortunate inabilityto learn the Shorter Catechism. This was a natural short-coming. Icould neither spell or pronounce the words I was told to learn and tomemorise them was an impossible thing. "

"Could not your mother help you?"

"She tried. She wept over me as she tried, and I made an almostsuperhuman effort to comprehend and remember. I could not. I wasflogged, I was denied food and even water. I was put in dark rooms. Iwas forbid all play and recreation. I went through this martyrdom yearafter year and I finally became stubborn and would try no longer. Inthe years that followed, until I was sixteen, my daily sufferings weregreat, but I remember them mainly for my mother's sake, who sufferedwith me in all I suffered. Nor am I without pity for my father. Hehonestly believed that in punishing me he was doing all he could tosave me from everlasting punishment. Yes, sir! Do not shake your head!I have heard him praying, pleading with God, for some token of myelection to His mercy. You see it was John Calvin. "

"John Calvin!" ejaculated Ragnor, "how is that?"

"It was his awful tenets I had to learn; and when I was young I couldnot learn them, and when I grew older I would not learn them. Myfather had called me John Calvin and I detested the name. On myeighteenth birthday I asked him to have it changed. He was very angryat my request. I begged him passionately to do so. I said it ruined mylife, that I could do nothing under that name. 'Give me your own name, Father, ' I entreated, 'and I will try and be a good man!'

"He said something to me, I never knew exactly what, but the last wordwas more than I could bear and my reply was an oath. Then he liftedthe whip at his side and struck me. "

Rahal and Thora were sobbing. Ragnor looked in the youth's face withshining eyes and asked, almost in a whisper, "What did thou do?"

"I had been struck often enough before to have made me indifferent, but at this moment some new strength and feeling sprang up in myheart. I seized his arms and the whip fell to the floor. I lifted itand said, 'Sir, if you ever again use a whip in place of decent wordsto me, I will see you no more until we meet for the judgment of God. Then I will pity you for the life-long mistake you have made. ' Myfather looked at me with eyes I shall never forget, no, not in alleternity! He burst into agonizing prayer and weeping and I went andtold mother to go to him. I left the house there and then. I had nota halfpenny, and I was hungry and cold and sick with an intolerablesense of wrong. "

"Father!" said Thora, in a voice broken with weeping. "Is not thisenough?" And Ragnor leaned forward and took Thora's hand but he didnot speak. Neither did he answer Rahal's look of entreaty. On thecontrary he asked:

"Then, Ian? Then, what did thou do?"

"I felt so ill I went to see Dr. Finlay, our family physician. He knewthe family trouble, because he had often attended mother when she wasill in consequence of it. I did not need to make a complaint. He sawmy condition and took me to his wife and told her to feed and comfortme. I remained in her care four days, and then he offered to take meinto his office and set me to reading medical text books, while I didthe office work. "

"What was this work?"

"I was taught how to prepare ordinary medicines, to see callers whenthe doctor was out, and make notes of, and on, their cases. I helpedthe doctor in operations, I took the prescriptions to patients andexplained their use, etc. In three years I became very useful andhelpful and I was quite happy. Then Dr. Finlay was appointed to someexceptionally fine post in India, private physician to some greatRajah, and the Finlay family hastily prepared for their journey toDelhi. I longed to go with them but I had not the money requisite. With Dr. Finlay I had had a home but only money enough to clothe medecently. I had not a pound left and mother could not help me, andUncle Ian was in the Madeira Isles with his sick wife. So the Finlayswent without me; and I can feel yet the sense of loneliness andpoverty that assailed me, when I shut their door behind me and walkedinto the cold street and knew not what to do or where to go. "

"How old were you then, Ian?" asked Ragnor. 

"I was twenty years old within a few days, and I had one pound, sixteen shillings in my pocket. Five pounds from an Episcopal churchwould be due in two weeks for my solo and part singing in theirservices; but they were never very prompt in their payment and thatwas nothing to rely on in my present need. I took to answeringadvertisements, and did some of the weariest tramping looking for workthat poor humanity can do. When I met Kenneth McLeod, I had broken mylast shilling. I was like a hungry, lost child, and the thought of mymother came to me and I felt as if my heart would break. 

"The next moment I saw Kenneth McLeod coming up Prince's Street. Itwas nearly four years since we had seen each other, but he knew me atonce and called me in his old kind way. Then he looked keenly at me, and asked: 'What is the matter, Ian? The old trouble?'

"I was so heartless and hungry I could hardly keep back tears as Ianswered: 'It is that and everything else! Ken, help me, if you can. ''Come with me!' he answered, and I went with him into the Queen'sHotel and he ordered dinner, and while we were eating I told him mysituation. Then he said, 'I can help you, Ian, if you will help me. You know that all my happiness is on the sea and father kept me on oneor another of his trading boats as much as possible from my boyhood, so that I am now a clever enough navigator. Two years ago my fatherdied and I am in a lot of trouble about managing the property he leftme. Now, if you will take the oversight of my Edinburgh property, Ican take my favourite boat and look after the coast trade of theNorthern Islands. '

"What could I say? I was dumb with surprise and gratitude. I neverthought there was anything wrong in our contract. I believed the workhad come in answer to my prayer for help and I thanked God and KennethMcLeod for it. "

Here Mrs. Ragnor rose, saying, "Coll, my dear one, Thora and I willnow leave thee. I am sure Ian has done as well as he could do and wehope thou wilt judge him kindly. " Then the women went upstairs andRagnor remained silent until Ian said:

"I am very anxious, sir. "

Then Ragnor stood up and slowly answered, "Ian, now is the time totake council of my pillow. What I have to say I will say later. Thisis not a thing to be settled by a yes or no. I must think over whatthou hast told me. I must have some words with my wife and daughter. Sleep one night at least over thy trouble, there are many things toconsider; especially this question of the young lady who is madethe last count of Jean Hay's letter. What hast thou to say about her?She seems to have had some strong claim upon thy--shall we sayfriendship?"

"You might say much more than friendship, sir, and yet wrong neitherman nor woman by it. Why, the young lady was Agnes Henderson, thesister of Willie Henderson, who is my soul's brother and my secondself. Thora must have heard all about Agnes!"

"Is she Deacon Scot Henderson's daughter?"

"Of course she is! Who else would I have left two engagements toserve? But Agnes is dear to me, perhaps dearer than my own sister. Since she was nine years old, we have studied and played together. Willie and Agnes were the only loves and only friends of my desolateboyhood. You have doubtless heard how unhappy the deacon's secondmarriage has been. Both Willie and Agnes refused the stepmother hegave them, and last year Willie went to New York, where he is doingvery well. But Agnes has been more and more wretched, and a recentproposal of marriage between herself and the stepmother's nephew hasmade her life intolerable. Two weeks ago I had a letter from Willie, telling me he had just written her, advising an immediate 'give-up' ofthe whole situation. He told her to take the first good steamer andcome to him. He also urged her to send for me and take my help andadvice about the voyage. Two weeks ago last Friday she did so and Iwent at once to the West End Hotel to see her. She had disguisedherself so cleverly that it was difficult to recognise her. I wentwith her to her sitting room and there I found the woman who hadwaited on her all her life long. I knew her well for she had oftenscolded me for leading Agnes into danger. 

"I ate lunch with Agnes and during it I told her to transfer all hermoney not required for travelling expenses to the Bank of New York;and I promised to go at once and secure a passage for herself andmaid--for seeing that the _Atlantic_ would leave her dock for New Yorkabout the noon hour of the next day, haste was necessary. I did notwish to go to Liverpool because of my two engagements, but Agnes wasso insistent on my presence I could not refuse her. Well, perhaps Iwas wrong to yield to her entreaties. "

"No, hardly, " said Ragnor. "Going on board a big steamer at Liverpoolmust be a muddling business--not fit for two simple women like AgnesHenderson and her maid. "

"I don't remember thinking of that but I could hear my friend Willietelling me, 'See her safe on board, Ian. Don't leave her till she isin the captain's care. Do this for me, Ian!' And I did it for bothAgnes' and Willie's sake but mainly for Willie's, for I love him. Heis my right-hand friend, always. Perhaps I did wrong. "

"It is a pity there was any mystification about it. Was it necessaryfor Agnes Henderson to disguise herself?"

"Perhaps not, but it prevented trouble and disappointment. Her fathersupposed her to be at her uncle's home. On Saturday afternoon he wentto see her and found she had not been there at all. He returned toEdinburgh and could get no trace of her, nor was she located until Ireturned and informed him that she was on the _Atlantic_. "

There was a few moments of silence and then Ian said, "Have I doneanything unpardonable? Surely you will not let that jealous, enviousletter stand between Thora and myself?"

Then Ragnor answered, "Tonight I will say neither this nor that on thematter. I will sleep over the subject and take counsel of One wiserthan myself. Thou had better do likewise. Many things are toconsider. "

And Ian went away without a word. There was anger in his heart, and ashe sat gloomily in his dimly lit room and felt the damp chill of themidnight, he told himself that he had been hardly judged. "I have donenothing wrong, " he whispered passionately. "Old McLeod collected hisown rents and looked after his own property and no one thought he didwrong. He was an elder in one of the largest Edinburgh kirks and thefavourite chairman in missionary meetings, but because I did not go tokirk, what was business in him was sin in me. 

"As to the gambling houses, I had nothing to do with them but tocollect lawful money, due the McLeod estate; and as far as I can see, men who gamble for money are quite respectable if they get what theygamble for. There was that old reprobate Lord Sinclair. He redeemedthe Sinclair estates by gambling and he married the beautiful daughterof the noble Seaforths. Nobody blamed him. Pshaw! It is all a matterof money--or it is my ill luck. " And to such irritating reflections hefinally fell asleep. 

CHAPTER IX

THE BREAD OF BITTERNESS

Sorrow develops the mind. It seems as if a soul was given us to sufferwith--

 Dust to dust, but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came A portion of the Eternal which must glow Through time and change unalterably the same. 

 Our endless need is met by God's endless help. 

At her room door Thora bid her mother good night. Rahal desired totalk with her, but the girl shook her head and said wearily, "I wantto think, Mother. I have no heart to speak yet. " And Rahal turnedsadly away. She knew that hour, that her child had come to a door forwhich she had no key and she left her alone with the situation she hadto face. Nor did Thora just then realize that within the past hour hergirlhood had vanished, and that she had suddenly become a woman with awoman's fate upon her and a woman's heart-rending problem to solve. 

How it came she did not enquire, yet she did recognise some change inherself. Hitherto, all her troubles had been borne by her father ormother. This trouble was her very own. No one could carry it for herbut without any hesitation she accepted it. "I must find out the veryroot of this matter, " she said to herself, "and I will not go to beduntil I do. Nor is it half-asleep I will be over the question. I willsit up and be wide awake. "

So she put more peat and coal on her fire and lit a fresh candle;removed her day clothing and wrapped herself in a large down cloak. And the night was not cold for there was a southerly wind, and thegulf stream embraces the Orkneys, giving them an abnormally warmclimate for their far-north latitude. And she had a passing wonder atherself for these precautions. A year ago, a week ago, she would havethrown herself upon her bed in passionate weeping or clung to hermother and talked her sorrow away in her loving sympathy and advice. 

But at this supreme hour of her life, she wanted to be alone. Shedid not wish to talk about Ian with any one. She was wide awake, quite sensible of the pain and grief at her heart, yet tearlessand calm. Never before had she felt that dignity of soul, whichlooks straight into the face of its sorrow and feels itself equalto the bearing of it. She had as yet no idea that during thatevening she had passed through that wonderful heart-experience, which suddenly ripens girlhood into womanhood. Indeed, they willbe thoughtless girls--whatever their age--who can read thissentence and not pause and recall that marvellous transition in theirown lives. To some it comes with a great joy, to others with a greatsorrow but it is always a fateful event, and girls should be readyto meet and salute it. 

As soon as Thora had made herself and her room comfortable, she satdown and closed her eyes. All her life she had noticed that her mothershut her eyes when she wanted to think. Now she did the same, and thensoftly called Ian Macrae to the judgment of her heart and her innersenses, but she did it as naturally as women equally ignorant havedone it in all ages, taking or refusing their advice or verdict asdirected by their dominant desire, or their reason or unreason. 

With almost supernatural clearness she recalled his beautiful, yettroubled face, his hesitating manner, his restlessness in his chair, his nervous trifling with his watch chain or his finger ring. Sherecalled the fact that his voice had in it a strange tone and that hiseyes reflected a soul fearful and angry. It was an unfamiliar Ian shecalled up, but oh! if it could ever become a familiar one. 

The first subject that pressed her for consideration was the suspicionof gambling. Certainly Ian had promptly denied the charge. He had evensaid that he never was in the gambling parlours but once, when he wentinto them very early with the porter, to assure himself that some newcarpets asked for were really wanted. "Then, " he added, "I found outthat the demand was made by one of the club members, who had a friendwho was a carpet manufacturer and expected to supply what wasconsidered necessary. "

It must be recalled here that Norsemen, though sharp and keen inbusiness matters, have no gambling fever in their blood. To get moneyand give nothing for it! That goes too far beyond their idea of fairbusiness, and as for pleasure, they have never connected it with thepaper kings and queens. They find in the sea and their ships, inadventure, in music and song, in dancing and story telling, all ofpleasure they require. A common name for a pack of cards is "thedevil's books, " and in Orkney they have but few readers. 

Thora had partially exonerated Ian from the charge of gamblingwhen she remembered Jean Hay's assertion that "wherever horses wereracing, there Ian was sure to be and that he had been named in thenewspapers as a winner on the horse Sergius. " Ian had passed bythis circumstance, and her father had either intentionally orunintentionally done the same. Once she had heard Vedder say that"horse racing produced finer and faster horses"; and she rememberedwell, that her father asked in reply, "If it was well to producefiner and faster horses, at the cost of making horsier men?" And hehad further said that he did not know of any uglier type of man than a"betting book in breeches. " She thought a little on this subjectand then decided Ian ought to be talked to about it. 

Her lover's neglect of the Sabbath was the next question, for Thorawas a true and loving daughter of the Church of England. Episcopacywas the kernel of her faith. She believed all bishops were just likeBishop Hedley and that the most perfect happiness was found in theEpiscopal Communion. And she said positively to her heart--"It isthrough the church door we will reach the Home door, and I am sure Ianwill go with me to keep the Sabbath in the cathedral. Every one goesto church in Kirkwall. He could not resist such a powerful publicexample, and then he would begin to like to go of his own inclination. I could trust him on this point, I feel sure. "

When she took up the next doubt her brow clouded and a shadow ofannoyance blended itself with her anxious, questioning expression. "His name!" she muttered. "His name! Why did he woo me under a falsename? Mother says my marriage to him under the name of Ian Macraewould not be lawful. Of course he intended to marry me with his propername. He would have been sure to tell us all before the marriageday--but I saw father was angry and troubled at the circumstance. Heought to have told us long ago. Why didn't he do so? I should haveloved him under any name. I should have loved him better under Johnthan Ian. John is a strong, straight name. Great and good men in allages have made John honourable. It has no diminutive. It can't be madeless than John. Englishmen and lowland Scotch all say the foursensible letters with a firm, strong voice; only the Celt turns Johninto Ian. I will not call him Ian again. Not once will I do it. "

Then she covered her eyes with her hand and a sharp, chagrined catchof her breath broke the hush of the still room. And her voice, thoughlittle stronger than a whisper, was full of painful wonder. "What willpeople say? What shall we say? Oh, the shame! Oh, the mortification!Who will now live in my pretty home? Who will eat my wedding cake?What will become of my wedding dress? Oh, Thora! Thora! Love has ledthee a shameful, cruel road! What wilt thou do? What can thou do?"

Then a singular thing happened. A powerful thought from some forgottenlife came with irresistible strength into her mind, and though she didnot speak the words suggested, she prayed them--if prayer be thathidden, never-dying imploration that goes with the soul from oneincarnation to another--for the words that sprang to her memory musthave been learned centuries before, "Oh, Mary! Mary! Mother of JesusChrist! Thou that drank the cup of all a woman's griefs and wrongs, pray for me!"

And she was still and silent as the words passed through herconsciousness. She thought every one of them, they seemed at themoment so real and satisfying. Then she began to wonder and askherself, "Where did those words come from? When did I hear them? Wheredid I say them before? How do they come to be in my memory? From whatstrange depth of Life did they come? Did I ever have a Roman Catholicnurse? Did she whisper them to my soul, when I was sick and suffering?I must ask mother--oh, how tired and sleepy I feel--I will go tobed--I have done no good, come to no decision. I will sleep--I willtell mother in the morning--I wish I had let her stop with me--motheralways knows--what is the best way----" And thus the heart-breakingsession ended in that blessed hostel, The Inn of Dreamless Sleep. 

There was, however, little sleep in the House of Ragnor that night, and very early in the morning Ragnor, fully dressed, spoke to hiswife. "Art thou waking yet, Rahal?" he asked, and Rahal answered, "Ihave slept little. I have been long awake. "

"Well then, what dost thou think now of Ian Macrae, so-called?"

"I think little amiss of him--some youthful follies--nothing to make afuss about. "

"Hast thou considered that the follies of youth may become the folliesof manhood, and of age? What then?"

"We are not told to worry about what may be. "

"Ian has evidently been living and spending with people far above hismeans and his class. "

"The Lowland Scotch regard a minister as socially equal to any peer. Are not the servants of God equal, and more than equal, to theservants of the queen? No society is above either they or theirchildren. That I have seen always. And young men of fine appearanceand charming manners, like Ian, are welcome in every home, high orlow. Yes, indeed!"

"Yet girls, as a rule, should not marry handsome men with charmingmanners, unless there is something better behind to rely on. "

"If thou had not been a handsome man with a charming manner, Rahalwould not have married thee. What then?"

"I would have been a ruined man. I cared for nothing but thee. "

"I believe that a girl of moral strength and good intelligence shouldbe trusted with the choice of her destiny. It is not always thatparents have a right to thrust a destiny they choose upon theirdaughter. If a man is not as good and as rich as they think she oughtto marry they can point this out, and if they convince their child, very well; and if they do not convince her, also very well. Perhapsthe girl's character requires just the treatment it will evolve from alife of struggle. "

"Thou art talking nonsense, Rahal. Thy liking for the young man hasgot the better of thy good sense. I cannot trust thee in thismatter. "

"Well then, Coll, the road to better counsel than mine, is well knownto thee. "

"I think Bishop Hedley arrived about an hour ago. There were movinglights on the pier, and as soon as the morning breaks I am going tosee him. "

"Have thy own way. When a man's wife has not the wisdom wanted, it iswell that he go to his Bishop, for Bishops are full of good counsel, even for the ruling of seven churches, so I have heard. "

"It is not hearsay between thee and Bishop Hedley. Thou art wellacquainted with him. "

"Well then, in the end thou wilt take thy own way. "

"Dost thou want me to say 'yes' today, and rue it tomorrow? I have nomind for any such foolishness. "

"Coll, this is a time when deeds will be better than words. "

"I see that. Well then, the day breaks, and I will go"--he lingered aminute or two fumbling about his knitted gloves but Rahal was dressingher hair and took no further notice. So he went away in an affectedhurry and both dissatisfied and uncertain. "What a woman she is!" hesighed. "She has said only good words, but I feel as if I had brokenevery commandment at once. "

He went away full of trouble and anxiety, and Rahal watched him downthe garden path and along the first stretch of the road. She knew byhis hurried steps and the nervous play of his walking stick that hewas both angry and troubled and she was not very sorry. 

"If it was his business standing and his good name, instead of Thora'shappiness and good repute that was the question, oh, how careful andconciliatory he would be! How anxious to keep his affairs from publicdiscussion! It would be anything rather than that! I have the samefeeling about Thora's good name. The marriage ought to go on forThora's sake. I do not want the women of Kirkwall wondering who wasto blame. I do not want them coming to see me with solemn looks andtearful voices. I could not endure their pitying of 'poor Miss Thora!'They would not dare go to Coll with their sympathetic curiosity, butthere are such women as Astar Gager, and Lala Snackoll, and ThyraPeterson, and Jorunna Flett. No one can keep them away from a house introuble. Thora must marry. I see no endurable way to prevent it. "

Then being dressed she went to Thora's room, and gently opened thedoor. Thora was standing at her mirror and she turned to her motherwith a smiling face. Rahal was astonished and she said almost with atone of disapproval, "I am glad to see thee able to smile. I expectedto find thee weeping, and ill with weeping. "

"For a long time, for many hours, I was broken-hearted but there cameto me, Mother, a strange consolation. " Then she told her mother aboutthe prayer she heard her soul say for her. "Not one word did I speak, Mother. But someone prayed for me. I heard them. And I was made strongand satisfied, and fell into a sweet sleep, though I had yet notsolved the problem I had proposed to solve before I slept. "

"What was that problem?"

"First, whether I should marry John just as he was, and trust theconsequences to my influence over him; or whether I should refuse himaltogether and forever; or whether I should wait and see what he cando with my father and the good Bishop, to help and strengthen him. "And as Thora talked, Rahal's face grew light and sweet as shelistened, and she answered--"Yes, my dear one, that is the wonderfulway! Some soul that loved thee long, long ago, knew that thou wert ingreat trouble. Some woman's soul, perhaps, that had lived and died forlove. The kinship of our souls far exceeds that of our bodies, andtheir help is swift and sure. Be patient with Ian. That is what Isay. "

"But why that prayer? I never heard it before. "

"How little thou knowest of what thou hast heard before! Two hundredyears ago, all sorrowful, unhappy women went to Mary with theirtroubles. "

"They should not have done so. They could have gone to Christ. "

"They thought Mary had suffered just what they were suffering, andthey thought that Christ had never known any of the griefs that breaka woman's heart. Mary knew them, had felt them, had wept and prayedover them. When my little lad Eric died, I thought of Mary. My familyhave only been one hundred years Protestants. All of them must haveloved thee well enough to come and pray for thee. Thou had a greathonour, as well as a great comfort. "

"At any rate I did no wrong! I am glad, Mother. "

"Wrong! Thou wilt see the Bishop today. Ask him. He will tell theethat the English Church and the English women gave up very reluctantlytheir homage to Mary. Are not their grand churches called after Peterand Paul and other male saints? Dost thou think that Christ lovedPeter and Paul more than his mother? I know better. Please God thouwilt know better some day. "

"Churches are often called after Mary, as well as the saints. "

"Not in Scotland. "

"There is one in Glasgow. Vedder told me he used to hear Bishop Hedleypreach there. "

"It is an Episcopal Church. Ask him about thy dream. No, I mean thysoul's experience. "

"Thou said _dream_, Mother. It was not a dream. I saw no one. I onlyheard a voice. It is what we see in dreams that is important. "

"Now wilt thou come to thy breakfast?"

"Is _he_ downstairs yet?"

"I will go and call him. "

Rahal, however, came to the table alone. She said, "Ian asked that hemight lie still and sleep an hour or two. He has not slept all nightlong, I think, " she added. "His voice sounded full of trouble. "

So the two women ate their breakfast alone for Ragnor did not returnin time to join them. And Rahal's hopefulness left her, and she wassilent and her face had a grey, fearful expression that Thora couldnot help noticing. "You look ill, Mother!" she said, "and you werelooking so well when we came downstairs. What is it?"

"I know not. I feel as if I was going into a black cloud. I wish thatthy father would come home. He is in trouble. I wonder then what isthe matter!"

In about an hour they saw Ragnor and the Bishop coming towards thehouse together. 

"They are in trouble, Thora, both of them are in trouble. "

"About Thora they need not to be in trouble. She will do what theyadvise her to do. "

"It is not thee. "

"What then?"

"I will not name my fear, lest I call it to me. "

Then she rose and went to the door and Thora followed her, and by thistime, Ragnor and the Bishop were at the garden gate. Very soon theBishop was holding their hands, and Rahal found when he released herhand that he had left a letter in it. Yet for a moment she hardlynoticed the fact, so shocked was she at the expression of herhusband's face. He looked so much older, his eyes were two wells ofsorrow, his distress had passed beyond words, and when she asked, "What is thy trouble, Coll?" he looked at her pitifully and pointed tothe letter. Then she took Thora's hand and they went to her roomtogether. 

Sitting on the side of her bed, she broke the seal and looked at thesuperscription. "It is from Adam Vedder, " she said, as she began toread it. No other word escaped her lips until she came to the end ofthe long epistle. Then she laid it down on the bed beside her andshivered out the words, "Boris is dying. Perhaps dead. Oh, Boris! Myson Boris! Read for thyself. "

So Thora read the letter. It contained a vivid description of thetaking of a certain small battery, which was pouring death anddestruction on the little British company, who had gone as a forlornhope to silence its fire. They were picked volunteers and they wereled by Boris Ragnor. He had made a breach in its defences and carriedhis men over the cannon to victory. At the last moment he was shot inthe throat and received a deadly wound in the side, as he tore fromthe hands of the Ensign the flag of his regiment, wrote Vedder. 

 I saw the fight between the men. I was carrying water to the wounded on the hillside. I, and several others, rushed to the side of Boris. He held the flag so tightly that no hand could remove it, and we carried it with him to the hospital. For two days he remained there, then he was carefully removed to my house, not very far away, and now he has not only one of Miss Nightingale's nurses always with him but also myself. As for Sunna, she hardly ever leaves him. He talks constantly of thee and his father and sister. He sends all his undying love, and if indeed these wounds mean his death, he is dying gloriously and happily, trusting God implicitly, and loving even his enemies--a thing Adam Vedder cannot understand. He found out before he was twenty years old that loving his enemies was beyond his power and that nothing could make him forgive them. Our dear Boris! Oh, Rahal! Rahal! Poor stricken mother! God comfort thee, and tell thyself every minute "My boy has won a glorious death and he is going the way of all flesh, honoured and loved by all who ever knew him. "

 Thy true friend, ADAM VEDDER. 

[Illustration: He made a breach in its defences and carried his men overcannon to victory. ]

This letter upset all other considerations, and when Ian camedownstairs at the dinner hour, he found no one interested enough inhis case to take it up with the proper sense of its importance. Ragnorwas steeped in silent grief. Rahal had shut up her sorrow behind dryeyes and a closed mouth. The Bishop had taken the seat next to Thora. He felt as if no one had missed or even thought of him. And suchconversation as there was related entirely to the war. Thora smiled athim across the table, but he was not pleased at Thora being able tosmile; and he only returned the courtesy with a doleful shake of thehead. 

After dinner Ian said something about going to see McLeod, and thenthe Bishop interfered--"No, Ian, " he replied, "I want you to walk asfar as the cathedral with me. Will you do that?"

"With pleasure, sir. "

"Then let us be going, while there is yet a little sunshine. "

The cathedral doors stood open, but there was no one present except avery old woman, who at their approach rose from her knees andpainfully walked away. The Bishop altered his course, so as to greether--"Good afternoon, Sister Odd! Art thou suffering yet?"

"Only the pain that comes with many years, sir. God makes it easy forme. Wilt thou bless me?"

"Thou hast God's blessing. Who can add to it? God be with thee to thevery end!"

"Enough is that. Thy hand a moment, sir. "

For a moment they, stood silently hand clasped, then parted, and theBishop walked straight to the vestry and taking a key from his pocket, opened the door. There was a fire laid ready for the match and hestooped and lit it, and Ian placed his chair near by. 

"That is good!" he said. "Bring your own chair near to me, Ian, I havesomething to say to you. "

"I am glad of that, Bishop. No one seemed to care for my sorrow. I wasmade to feel this day the difference between a son and a son-in-law. "

"There is a difference, a natural one, but you have been treated as ason always. Ragnor has told me all about those charges. You may speakfreely to me. It is better that you should do so. "

"I explained the charges to the whole family. Do they not believeme?"

"The explanation was only partial and one-sided. I think the charge ofgambling may be put aside, with your promise to abstain from theappearance of evil for the future. I understand your position aboutthe Sabbath. You should have gone on singing in some church. Supposingyou got no spiritual help from it, you were at least lifting the soulsof others on the wings of holy song, and you need not have mocked atthe devout feelings of others by music unfit for the day. "

"It was a bit of boyish folly. "

"It was something far more than that. I had a letter from Jean Haymore than two months ago and I investigated every charge she madeagainst you. "

"Well, Bishop?"

"I find that, examined separately, they do not indicate any settledsinfulness; but taken together they indicate a variable temper, aperfectly untrained nature, and a weak, unresisting will. Now, Ian, aweak, good man is a dangerous type of a bad man. They readily becomethe tools of wicked men of powerful intellect and determinedcharacter. I have met with many such cases. Your change of name----"

"Oh, sir, I could not endure Calvin tacked on to me! If you knew whatI have suffered!"

"I know it all. Why did you not tell the Ragnors on your firstacquaintance with them?"

"Mrs. Ragnor liked Ian because it is the Highland form for John, andThora loved the name and I did not like, while they knew so little ofme, to tell them I had only assumed it. I watched for a goodopportunity to speak concerning it and none came. Then I thought Iwould consult you at this time, before the wedding day. "

"I could not have married you under the name of Ian. Discard it atonce. Take it as a pet name between Thora and yourself, if you choose. No doubt you thought Ian was prettier and more romantic and suitablefor your really handsome person. "

"Oh, Bishop, do not humiliate me! I----"

"I have no doubt I am correct. I have known young men wreck theirlives for some equally foolish idea. "

"I will cast it off today. I will tell Thora the truth tonight. Beforewe are married, I will advertise it in next week's _News_. "

"Before you are married, I trust you will have made the name of JohnMacrae so famous that you will need no such advertising. "

"What do you mean, Bishop?"

"I want you to go to the trenches at Redan or to fight your way intoSebastopol. You have been left too much to your own direction and yourown way. Obedience is the first round of the ladder of Success. Youmust learn it. You can only be a subordinate till you manage thislesson. Your ideas of life are crude and provincial. You need to seemen making their way upward, in some other places than in shops andoffices. Above all, you must learn to conquer yourself and yourindiscreet will. You are not a man, until you are master in your ownhouse and fear no mutiny against your Will to act nobly. You have hadno opportunities for such education. Now take one year to begin it. "

"You mean that I must put off my marriage for a year. "

"Exactly. Under present circumstances----"

"Oh, sir, that is not thinkable! It would be too mortifying! I couldnot go back to Edinburgh. I could not put off my marriage!"

"You will be obliged to do so. Do you imagine the Ragnors will holdwedding festivities, while their eldest son is dying, or his brokenbody on its way home for burial?"

"I thought the ceremony would be entirely religious and thefestivities could be abandoned. "

"Is that what you wish?"

"Yes, Bishop. "

"Then you will not get it. A year's strict mourning is due the dead, and the Ragnors will give every hour of it. Boris is their eldestson. "

"They should remember also their living daughter Thora will suffer aswell as myself. "

"You are not putting yourself in a good light, John Macrae. Thoraloves her brother with a great affection. Do you think she can comforther grief for his loss, by giving you any loving honour that belongsto him? You do not know Thora Ragnor. She has her mother's just, strong character below all her gentle ways, and what her father andmother say she will endorse, without question or reluctance. Now Iknow that Ragnor had resolved on a year's separation and discipline, before he heard of his son's dangerous condition. "

"Boris was not dead when that Vedder letter was written. He may not bedead now. He may not be going to die. "

"It is only his wonderful physical strength that has kept him alive solong. Vedder said to me, they looked for his death at any hour. Hecannot recover. His wound is a fatal one. It is beyond hope. Vedderwrote while he was yet alive, so that he might perhaps break the blowto his family. "

"What then do you advise me to do?"

"Ragnor intends to go back with you and myself to Edinburgh. He willsee your father and offer to buy you a commission as ensign in a goodinfantry regiment. We will ask your father if he will join in theplan. "

"My father will not join in anything to help me. How much will anensign's commission cost?"

"I think four or five hundred pounds. Ragnor would pay half, if yourfather would pay half. "

Then Ian rose to his feet, and his eyes blazed with a fire no one hadever seen there before. "Bishop, " he said, "I thank you for all youpropose, but if I go to the trenches at Redan or the camp atSebastopol, I will go on John Macrae's authority and personality. Ihave one hundred pounds, that is sufficient. I can learn all the greatthings you expect me to learn there better among the rankers than theofficers. I have known the officers at Edinburgh Castle. They were notfit candidates for a bishopric. "

The good man looked sadly at the angry youth and answered, "Go andtalk the matter over with Thora. "

"I will. Surely she will be less cruel. "

"What do you wish, considering present circumstances?"

"I want the marriage carried out, devoid of all but its religiousceremony. I want to spend one month in the home prepared for us, andthen I will submit to the punishment and schooling proposed. "

"No, you will not. Do not throw away this opportunity to retrieve yourso far neglected, misguided life. There is a great man in you, if youwill give him space and opportunity to develop, John. This is the wideopen door of Opportunity; go through, and go up to where it will leadyou. At any rate do whatever Thora advises. I can trust you as far asThora can. " Then he held out his hand, and Ian, too deeply moved tospeak, took it and left the cathedral without a word. 

He found Thora alone in the parlour. She had evidently been weepingbut that fact did not much soothe his sense of wrong and injustice. Hefelt that he had been put aside in some measure. He was not sure thateven now Thora had been weeping for his loss. He told himself, she wasjust as likely to have been mourning for Boris. He felt that he wasunjustly angry but, oh, he was so hopeless! Every one was ready togive him advice, no one had said to him those little words of lovingsympathy for which his heart was hungry. He had felt it to be his dutyto try and console Thora, and Thora had wept in his arms and he hadkissed her tears away. She was now weary with weeping and sufferingwith headache. She knew also that talking against any decision of herfather's was useless. When he had said the word, the man or woman thatcould move him did not live. Acceptance of the will of others was aduty she had learned to observe all her life, it was just the dutythat Ian had thought it right to resist. So amid all his love anddisappointment, there was a cruel sense of being of secondaryinterest and importance, just at the very time he had expected to befirst in everyone's love and consideration. 

Finally he said, "Dear Thora, I can feel no longer. My heart hasbecome hopeless. I suffer too much. I will go to my room and try andsubmit to this last cruel wrong. "

Then Thora was offended. "There is no one to blame for this last cruelwrong but thyself, " she answered. "The death of Boris was a nearerthing to my father and mother than my marriage. Thy marriage can takeplace at some other time, but for my dear brother there is no futurein this life. "

"Are you even sure of his death?"

"My mother has seen him. "

"That is nonsense. "

"To you, I dare say it is. Mother sees more than any one else can see. She has spiritual vision. We are not yet able for it, nor worthy ofit. "

"Then why did she not see our wedding catastrophe? She might haveaverted it by changing the date. "

"Ask her;" and as Thora said these words and wearily closed her eyes, Rahal entered the room. She went straight to Ian, put her arms roundhim and kissed him tenderly. Then Ian could bear no more. He sobbedlike a boy of seven years old and she wept with him. 

"Thou poor unloved laddie!" she said. "If thou had gone wrong, itwould have been little wonder and little blame to thyself. I thinkthou did all that could be done, with neither love nor wisdom to helpthee. Rahal does not blame thee. Rahal pities and loves thee. Thouhast been cowed and frightened and punished for nothing, all the daysof thy sad life. Poor lad! Poor, disappointed laddie! With all myheart and soul I pity thee!"

For a few moments there was not a word spoken and the sound of Ian'sbitter weeping filled the room. Ian had been flogged many a time whenbut a youth, and had then disdained to utter a cry, but no child inits first great sorrow, ever wept so heart-brokenly as Ian now wept inRahal's arms. And a man weeping is a fearsome, pitiful sound. It goesto a woman's heart like a sword, and Thora rose and went to her loverand drew him to the sofa and sat down at his side and, with promiseswet with tears, tried to comfort him. A strange silence that theweeping did not disturb was in the house and room, and in the kitchenthe servants paused in their work and looked at each other with facesfull of pity. 

"The Wise One has put trouble on their heads, " said a woman who wasdressing a goose to roast for dinner and her helper answered, "Andthere is no use striving against it. What must be, is sure to happen. That is Right. "

"All that we have done, is no good. Fate rules in this thing. I seethat. "

"The trouble came on them unawares. And if Death is at the beginning, no course that can be taken is any good. "

"What is the Master's will? For in the end, that will orders allthings. "

"The mistress said the marriage would be put off for a year. The youngman goes to the war. "

"No wonder then he cries out. It is surely a great disappointment. "

"Tom Snackoll had the same ill luck. He made no crying about it. Hehoisted sail at midnight and stole his wife Vestein out of her window, and when her father caught them, they were man and wife. And Snackollwent out to speak to his father-in-law and he said to him, 'My wifecan not see thee today, for she is weary and I think it best for herto be still and quiet'; and home the father went and no good of hisjourney. Snackoll got praise for his daring. "

"Well then, " said a young man who had just entered, "it is well knownthat Vestein and her father and mother were all fully willing. Thegirl could as easily have gone out of the door as the window. Snackollis a boaster. He is as great in his talk as a fox in his tail. "

Thus the household of Ragnor talked in the kitchen, and in the parlourRahal comforted the lovers, and cheered and encouraged Ian so greatlythat she was finally able to say to them:

"The wedding day was not lucky. Let it pass. There is another, only ayear away, that will bring lasting joy. Now we have wept over ourmischance, we will bury it and look to the future. We will go and washaway sorrow and put on fresh clothes, and look forward to the farbetter marriage a year hence. "

And her voice and manner were so persuasive, that they willinglyobeyed her advice and, as they passed her, she kissed them both andtold Ian to put his head in cold water and get rid of its achingfever, for she said, "The Bishop will want thee to sing some of thyCollects and Hymns and thou wilt like to please him. He is thy goodfriend. "

"I do not think so. "

"He is. Thou may take that, on my word. "

The evening brought a braver spirit. They talked of Boris and of hisopen-hearted, open-air life, and the Bishop read aloud several lettersfrom young men then at the front. They were full of enthusiasm. Theymight have been read to an accompaniment of fife and drums. Ian wasvisibly affected and made no further demur about joining them. One ofthem spoke of Boris "leading his volunteers up the hill like a lion";and another letter described his tenderness to the wounded andconvalescents, saying "he spent his money freely, to procure themlittle comforts they could not get for themselves. "

They talked plainly and from their hearts, hesitating not to call hisname, and so they brought comfort to their heavy sorrow. For it is aselfish thing to shut up a sorrow in the heart, far better to look atit full in the face, speak of it, discuss its why and wherefore andbreak up that false sanctity which is very often inspired by purelyselfish sentiments. And when this point was reached, the Bishop tookfrom his pocket a small copy of the Apocrypha and said, "Now I willtell you what the wisest of men said of such an early death as thatof our dear Boris:

 "'He pleased God, and he was beloved of him, so that living among sinners, he was translated. 

 "'Yea speedily was he taken away, lest that wickedness should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his soul. 

 "'He, being made perfect in a short time, fulfilled a long time. 

 "'For his soul pleased the Lord, therefore hasted he to take him away from among the wicked. '"

And these words fell like heavenly dew on every heart. There was nocomfort and honour greater than this to offer even a mother's heart. Ahappy sigh greeted the blessed verses, and there was no occasion tospeak. There was no word that could be added to it. 

Then Ian had a happy thought for before a spell-breaking word could besaid, he stepped softly to the piano and the next moment the room wasringing with some noble lines from the "Men of Harlech" set to notesequally stirring:

 "Men of Harlech, young or hoary, Would you win a name in story, Strike for home, for life, for glory, Freedom, God and Right!

 "Onward! 'Tis our country needs us, He is bravest, he who leads us, Honour's self now proudly leads us, Freedom! God and Right! Loose the folds asunder! Flag we conquer under! Death is glory now. "

The words were splendidly sung and the room was filled with patrioticfervour. Then the Bishop gave Ragnor and Thora a comforting look, ashe asked, "Who wrote that song, Ian?"

"Ah, sir, it was never written! It sprang from the heart of some oldDruid priest as he was urging on the Welsh to drive the Romans fromtheir country. It is two verses from 'The Song of the Men ofHarlech. '"

"In olden times, Ian, the bards went to the battlefield with thesoldiers. We ought to send our singers to the trenches. Ian, go andsing to the men of England and of France 'The Song of the Men ofHarlech. ' Your song will be stronger than your sword. "

"I will sing it to my sword, sir. It will make it sharper. " Then Rahalsaid, "You are a brave boy, Ian, " and Thora lifted her lovely face andkissed him. 

Every heart was uplifted, and the atmosphere of the room was sensitivewith that exalted feeling which finds no relief in speech. Humanitysoon reacts against such tension. There was a slight movement, everyone breathed heavily, like people awakening from sleep, and the Bishopsaid in a slow, soft voice:

"I was thinking of Boris. After all, the dear lad may return to us. Surgeons are very clever now, they can almost work miracles. "

"Boris will not return, " said Rahal. 

"How can you know that, Rahal?"

"He told me so. "

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes. "

"When?"

"On the afternoon of the eleventh of this month. "

"How?"

"Well, Bishop, I was making the cap I am wearing and I was selectingfrom some white roses on my lap the ones I thought best. SuddenlyBoris stood at my side. "

"You saw him?"

"Yes, Bishop. I saw him plainly, though I do not remember lifting myhead. "

"How did he look?"

"Like one who had just won a victory. He was much taller and granderin appearance. Oh, he looked like one who had realized God's promisethat we should be satisfied. A kind of radiance was around him and theair of a conquering soldier. And he was my boy still! He called me'Mother, ' he sent such a wonderful message to his father. " And at thelast word, Ragnor uttered just such a sharp, short gasp as might havecome from the rift of a broken heart. 

"Did you ask him any question, Rahal?"

"I could not speak, but my soul longed to know what he was doing andthe longing was immediately answered. 'I am doing the will of the Lordof Hosts, ' he said. 'I was needed here. ' Then I felt his kiss on mycheek, and I lifted my head and looked at the clock. It had struckthree just as I was conscious of the presence of Boris. It was onlytwo minutes past three, but I seemed to have lived hours in that twominutes. "

"Do you think, Bishop, that God loves a soldier? He may employ themand yet not love them?"

Then the Bishop straightened himself and lifted his head, and his faceglowed and his eyes shone as he answered, "I will give you oneexample, it could be multiplied indefinitely. Paul of Tarsus, a pale, beardless young man, dressed as a Roman soldier, is bringing prisonersto Damascus. Christ meets him on the road and Paul knows instantlythat he has met the Captain of his soul. Hence forward, he is belovedand honoured and employed for Christ, and at the end of life he isjoyful because he has fought a good fight and knows that his reward iswaiting for him. 

"God has given us the names of many soldiers beloved of Him--Abraham, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, David, etc. What care he took of them! What afriend in all extremities he was to them! All men who fight for theirFaith, Home and Country, for Freedom, Justice and Liberty, are God'sarmed servants. They do His will on the battlefield, as priests do itat the altar. So then, "In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb driven cattle, Be a hero in the strife!"

"We were speaking of the bards going to the battlefield with thesoldiers, and as I was quoting that verse of Longfellow's a few linesfrom the old bard we call Ossian came into my mind. "

"Tell us, then, " said Thora, "wilt thou not say the words to us, ourdear Bishop?"

"I will do that gladly:

 "Father of Heroes, high dweller of eddying winds, Where the dark, red thunder marks the troubled cloud, Open Thou thy stormy hall! Let the bards of old be near. Father of heroes! the people bend before thee. Thou turnest the battle in the field of the brave, Thy terrors pour the blasts of death, Thy tempests are before thy face, But thy dwelling is calm above the clouds, The fields of thy rest are pleasant. "

"When I was a young man, " he continued, "I used to read Ossian a gooddeal. I liked its vast, shadowy images, its visionary incompleteness, just because we have not yet invented the precise words to describethe indescribable. "

So they talked, until the frugal Orcadian supper of oatmeal and milk, and bread and cheese, appeared. Then the night closed and sealed whatthe day had done, and there was no more speculation about Ian'sfuture. The idea of a military life as a school for the youth hadsprung up strong and rapidly, and he was now waiting, almostimpatiently, for it to be translated into action. 

A few restful, pleasant days followed. Ragnor was preparing to leavehis business for a week, the Bishop was settling some parishdifficulties, and Ian and Thora were permitted to spend their time asthey desired. They paid one farewell visit to their future home andfound an old woman who had nursed Thora in charge of the place. 

"Thou wilt find everything just so, when you two come home together, my baby, " she said. "Not a pin will be out of its place, not a speckof dust on anything. Eva will always be ready, and please God you maycall her far sooner than you think for. "

The Sabbath, the last Sabbath of the old year, was to be their lastday together, and the Bishop desired Ian to make it memorable withsong. Ian was delighted to do so and together they chose for his twosolos, "O for the Wings of a Dove, " and the heavenly octaves of "HeHath Ascended Up on High and Led Captivity Captive. " The oldcathedral's great spaces were crowded, the Bishop was grandly in thespirit, and he easily led his people to that solemn line where lifeverges on death and death touches Immortality. It was Christ thebeginning, and the end; Christ the victim on the cross, and Christ theGod of the Ascension! And he sent every one home with the promise ofImmortality in their souls and the light of it on their faces. Histheme had touched largely on the Christ of the Resurrection, and themystery and beauty of this Christ was made familiar to them in a waythey had not before considered. 

Ragnor was afraid it had perhaps been brought too close to their ownconception of a soul, who was seen on earth after the death of thebody. "You told the events of Christ's forty days on earth after Hiscrucifixion so simply, Bishop, " he said, "and yet with much of the airthat our people tell a ghost story. "

"Well then, dear Conall, I was telling them the most sacred ghoststory of the world, and yet it is the most literal reality in history. If it were only a dream, it would be the most dynamic event in humandestiny. "

"You see, Bishop, there is so much in your way of preaching. It hasthat kind of good comradeship which I think was so remarkable inChrist. His style was not the ten commandments' style--thou shalt andthou shalt not--but that reasoning, brotherly way of 'What man isthere among you that would not do the kind and right thing?' You usedit this very morning when you cried out, 'If our dear England neededyour help to save her Liberty and Life, what man is there among youthat would not rise up like lions to save her?' And the men couldhardly sit still. It was so real, so brotherly, so unlike preaching. "

"Conall, nothing is so wonderful and beautiful in Christ's life as itsalmost incredible approachableness. "

This sermon had been preached on the Sabbath morning and itspiritualized the whole day. Ian's singing also had proved a wonderfulservice, for when the young men of that day became old men, they couldbe heard leading their crews in the melodious, longing strains of 'Ofor the Wings of a Dove, ' as they sat casting their lines into therestless water. 

In the evening a cold, northwesterly wind sprang up and Thora and Ianretreated to the parlour, where a good fire had been built; but theBishop and Ragnor and Rahal drew closer round the hearth in the livingroom and talked, and were silent, as their hearts moved them. Rahalhad little to say. She was thinking of Ian and of the new life he wasgoing to, and of the long, lonely days that might be the fate ofThora. "The woeful laddie!" she whispered, "he has had but smallchances of any kind. What can a lad do for himself and no mother ableto help him!"

The Bishop heard or divined her last words and he said, "Be content, Rahal. Not one, but many lives we hold, and our hail to every new workwe begin is our farewell to the old work. Ian is going to give aFuture to his Past. "

"I fear, Bishop----"

"Fear is from the earthward side, Rahal. Above the clouds of Fear, there is the certain knowledge of Heaven. Fear is nothing, Faith iseverything!"

CHAPTER X

THE ONE REMAINS, THE MANY CHANGE AND PASS

 You Scotsmen are a pertinacious brood; Fitly you wear the thistle in your cap, As in your grim theology. O we're not all so fierce! God knows you'll find, Well-combed and smooth-licked gentlemen enough, Who will rejoice with you To sneer at Calvin's close-wedged creed. --BLACKIE. 

 Sow not in Sorrow, Fling your seed abroad, and know God sends tomorrow, The rain to make it grow. --BLACKIE. 

There are epochs in every life that cut it sharply asunder, itscontinuity is broken and things can never be the same again. This wasthe dominant feeling that came to Thora Ragnor, as she sat with hermother one afternoon in early January. It was a day of Orkney's mostuncomfortable and depressing kind, the whole island being swept bydrifting clouds of vapour, which not only filled the atmosphere butalso the houses, so that everything was to the touch damp anduncomfortable. Nothing could escape its miserable contact, evensitting on the hearthstone its power was felt; and until a goodnorthwester came to dissipate the damp moisture, nobody expected muchfrom any one's temper. 

Thora was restless and unhappy. Her life appeared to have beensuddenly deprived of all joy and sunshine. She felt as if everythingwas at an end, or might as well be, and her mother's placid, peacefulface irritated her. How could she sit knitting mufflers for thesoldiers in the trenches, and not think of Boris and also of Ian, whomthey had all conspired to send to the same danger and perhaps death?She could not understand her mother's serenity. It occurred to herthis afternoon, that she might have run away with Ian to Shetland andthere her sisters would have seen her married; and she did not dothis, she obeyed her parents, and what did she get for it? Lonelinessand misery and her lover sent far away from her. Oh, those momentswhen Virtue has failed to reward us and we regret having served her!To the young, they are sometimes very bitter. 

And her mother's calmness! It not only astonished, it angered her. Howcould she sit still and not talk of Boris and Ian? It was a necessaryrelief to Thora, their names were at her lips all day long. But Thorahad yet to learn that it is the middle-aged and the old who have thepower of hoping through everything, because they have the knowledgethat the soul survives all its adventures. This is the greatinspiration, it is the good wine which God keeps to the last. The old, the way-worn, the faint and weary, they know this as the young cannever know it. 

However, we may say to bad weather, as to all other bad things, "this, too, will pass, " and in a couple of days the sky was blue, the sunshining, and the atmosphere fresh and clear and full of life-givingenergy. Ships of all kinds were hastening into the harbour and themail boat, broad-bottomed and strongly built, was in sight. Then therewas a little real anxiety. There was sure to be letters, what newswould they bring? Some people say there is no romance in these days. Very far wrong are they. These sealed bits of white paper hold veryoften more wonderful romances than any in the Thousand Nights of storytelling. 

Rahal's and Thora's anxiety was soon relieved. A messenger from thewarehouse came quickly to the house, with a letter from Ragnor toRahal and a letter from Ian to Thora. Ragnor's letter said they hadhad a rough voyage southward, the storm being in their faces all theway to Leith. There they left the boat and took a train for London, from which place they went as quickly as possible to Spithead, fearingto miss the ship sailing for the Crimea on the eleventh. Ragnor saidhe had seen Ian safely away to Sebastopol and observed that he wasremarkably cheerful and satisfied. He spoke then of his own delightwith London and regretted that he had not made arrangements whichwould permit him to stay a week or two longer there. 

Thora's letter was a genuine love letter, for Ian was deeply in loveand everything he said was in the superlative mood. Lovers like suchletters. They are to them the sacred writings. It did not seemridiculous to Thora to be called "an angel of beauty and goodness, therose of womanhood, the lily on his heart, his star of hope, thesunshine of his life, " and many other extravagant impossibilities. Shewould have been disappointed if Ian had been more matter-of-fact andreasonable. 

So there was now comparative happiness in the house of Ragnor, forthough the master's letters were never much more than plain statementsof doings or circumstances, they satisfied Rahal. It is not every manthat knows how to write to a woman, even if he loves her; but womenhave a special divinity in reading love letters, and they know beyondall doubting the worth of words as affected by those who use them. 

Ragnor gave himself a whole week in London and before leaving thatcity for Edinburgh he wrote a few lines home, saying he intended tostay in London over the following Sabbath and hear Canon Liddonpreach. On Monday he would reach Edinburgh and on Tuesday have aninterview with Dr. Macrae and then take the first boat for home. Theycould now wait easily, the silence had been broken, the weather wasgood, they had "The History of Pendennis" and "David Copperfield" toread, their little duties and little cares to attend to, and they werenot at all unhappy. 

At length, the master was to be home _that_ day. If the wind wasfavourable, he might arrive about two o'clock, but Rahal thought theboat would hardly manage it before three with the wind in her teeth, or it might be nearer four. The house was all ready for him, spick andspan from roof to cellar and a dinner of the good things heparticularly liked in careful preparation. And, after all, he came alittle earlier than was expected. 

"Dear Conall, " said Rahal, "I have been watching for thee, but Ithought it would be four o'clock, ere thou made Kirkwall. "

"Not with Donald Farquar sailing the boat. The way he manages a boatis beyond reason. "

"How is that?"

"He talks to her, as if she was human. He scolds and coaxes her andthis morning he promised to paint and gild her figurehead, if she gotinto Kirkwall before three. Then every sailor on board helped her andthe wind changed a point or two and that helped her, and now and thenFarquar pushed her on, with a good or bad word, and she saved herselfby just eleven minutes. "

"And how well thou art looking! Never have I seen thee so handsomebefore, never! What hast thou been doing to Conall Ragnor?"

"I will tell thee. When I had bid Ian good-bye, I resolved to take aweek's holiday in London and as I walked down the Strand, I noticedthat every one looked at me, not unkindly but curiously, and when Ilooked at the men who looked at me, I saw we were different. I wentinto a barber's first, and had my hair cut like Londoners wear it, short and smart, and not thick and bushy, like mine was. "

"Well then, thy hair was far too long but they have cut off all thycurls. "

"I like the wanting of them. They looked very womanish. I'm a dealmore purpose-like without them. Then I went to a first-classtailor-man and he fit me out with the suit I'm wearing. He said it was'the correct thing for land or water. ' What dost thou think of it?"

"Nothing could be more becoming to thee. "

"Nay then, I got a Sabbath Day suit that shames this one. And I boughta church hat and a soft hat that beats all, and kid gloves, and a goodwalking stick with a fancy knob. "

"Thou art not needing a walking stick for twenty years yet. "

"Well then, the English gentlemen always carries a walking stick. Ithink they wouldn't know the way they were going without one. At last, I went to the shoemakers, and he made me take off my 'Wellingtons. ' Hesaid no one wore them now, and he shod me, as thou sees, verycomfortably. I like the change. "

Then they heard Thora calling them, and Ragnor taking Rahal's handhastened to answer the call. She was standing at the foot of thestairway, and her father kissed her and as he did so whispered--"Allis well, dear one. After dinner, I will tell thee. " Then he took herhand, and the three in one went together to the round table, set sopleasantly near to the comfortable fireside. Standing there, hand-clasped, the master said those few words of adoration andgratitude that turned the white-spread board into a household altar. Dinner was on the table and its delicious odours filled the room andquickly set Ragnor talking. 

"I will tell you now, what I saw in London, " he said. "Ian is a storygood enough to keep until after dinner. I saw him sail away fromSpithead, and he went full of hope and pluck and sure of success. ThenI took the first train back to London. I got lodgings in a nice littlehotel in Norfolk Street, just off the Strand, and London was callingme all night long. "

"Thou could not see much, Father, in one week, " said Thora. 

"I saw the Queen and the Houses of Parliament, and I saw the Tower ofLondon and Westminster Abbey and the Crystal Palace. And I have heardan oratorio, with a chorus of five hundred voices and Sims Reeves assoloist. I have been to Drury Lane, and the Strand Theatres, to a bigpicture gallery, and a hippodrome. My dear ones, the end of onepleasure was just the beginning of another; in one week, I have livedfifty years. "

Any one can understand how a new flavour was added to the food theywere eating by such conversation. Not all the sauces in Christendomcould have made it so piquant and appetizing. Ragnor carved and ateand talked, and Rahal and Thora listened and laughed and asked endlessquestions, and when the mind enters into a meal, it not only prolongs, it also sweetens and brightens it. I suppose there may be in everylife two or three festivals, that stand out from all others--small, unlooked-for meetings, perhaps--where love, hope, wonder and happylooking-forward, made the food taste as if it had been cooked inParadise. Where, at least for a few hours, a mortal might feel thatman had been made only a little lower than the angels. 

Now, if any of my readers have such a memory, let them close thebook, shut their eyes and live it over again. It was probably aforetaste of a future existence, where we shall have faculties capableof fuller and higher pleasures; faculties that without doubt "will besatisfied. " For in all hearts that have suffered, there must abide theconviction that the Future holds Compensation, not Punishment. 

But without forecast or remembrance, the Ragnors that night enjoyedtheir highly mentalised meal, and after it was over and the table setbackward, and the white hearth brushed free of ashes, they drew aroundthe fire, and Ragnor laid down his pipe, and said:

"I left London last Monday, and I was in Edinburgh until Wednesdaymorning. On Tuesday I called on Dr. Macrae. I had a letter to give himfrom Ian. "

"Why should Ian have written to him?" asked Rahal, in a tone ofdisapproval. 

"Because Ian has a good heart, he wrote to his father. I read theletter. It was all right. "

"What then did he say to him?"

"Well, Rahal, he told his father that he was leaving for thefront, and he wished to leave with his forgiveness and blessing, if hewould give it to him. He said that he was sure that in theirlife-long dispute he must often have been in the wrong, and heasked forgiveness for all such lapses of his duty. He told his fatherthat he had a clear plan of success before him, but said that inall cases--fortunate or unfortunate--he would always remember thename he bore and do nothing to bring it shame or dishonour. A verygood, brave letter, dear ones. I give Ian credit for it. "

"Did thou advise him to write it?" asked Rahal. 

"No, it sprang from his own heart. "

"Thou should not have sanctioned it. "

"Ian did right, Rahal. I did right to sanction it. "

"Father, if Ian has a clear plan of success before him, what is it? Heought to have told us. "

"He thought it out while we were at sea, he asked me to explain thematter to you. It is, indeed, a plan so simple and manifest, that Iwonder we did not propose it at the very first. You must recollectthat Ian was in the employ of Dr. Finlay of Edinburgh for three yearsand a half, and that during that period he acquired both a largeamount of medical knowledge and also of medical experience. Now we allknow that Ian has a special gift for this science, especially for itssurgical side, and he is not going to the trenches or the cavalry, heis going to offer himself to the Surgical and Medical Corps. He willgo to the battlefield, carry off the wounded, give them first help, orsee them to the hospital. In this way he will be doing constant goodto others and yet be forwarding the career which is to make his futurehappy and honourable. "

"Then Ian has decided to be a surgeon, Father?"

"Yes, and I can tell thee, Thora, he has not set himself a task beyondhis power. I think very highly of Ian, no one could help doing so; andsee here, Thora! I have a letter in my pocket for thee! He gave it tome as I bid him good-bye at Spithead. "

"I am so happy, Father! So happy!"

"Thou hast good reason to be happy. We shall all be proud of Ian ingood time. "

"Did thou give Ian's letter to his father's hands, or did thou mailit, Coll?"

"I gave it to him, personally. "

"What was thy first impression of him?"

"He gave me first of all an ecclesiastical impression. I justnaturally looked for a gown or surplice. He wanted something withoutone. He met me coldly but courteously, and taking Ian's letter fromme, placed it deliberately upon a pile of letters lying on his desk. Isaid, 'It is from thy son, Doctor, perhaps thou had better read it atonce. It is a good letter, sir, read it. '

"He bowed, and asked if Ian was with me. I said, 'No, sir, he ison his way to Scutari. ' Then he was silent. After a few moments heasked me if I had been in Edinburgh during the past Sabbath. 'Youshould have been here, ' he added, 'then you could have heard thegreat Dr. Chalmers preach. ' I told him that I had spent thatnever-to-be-forgotten Sabbath under the blessed dome of St. Paul's inLondon. I said something about the transcending beauty of thewonderful music of the cathedral service, and spoke with delight ofthe majestic nave, filled with mediæval rush-bottomed chairs for theworshippers, and I told him how much more fitting they were in theHouse of God than pews. " And Ragnor uttered the last word with anew-found emphasis. "He asked, quite scornfully, in what sense Ifound them more fitting, and I answered rather warmly--'Why, sir, sitting together in chairs, we felt so much more at home. We werelike one great family in our Father's house. '"

"Are the chairs rented?" asked Rahal. 

"Rented!" cried Ragnor scornfully. "No, indeed! There are no dearchairs and no cheap chairs, all are equal and all are free. I neverfelt so like worshipping in a church before. The religious spirit hadfree way in our midst. "

"What did Macrae say?"

"He said, he supposed the rush chairs were an 'Armenian innovation';and I answered, 'The pews, sir, they are the innovation. '"

"Did thou have any argument with him? I have often heard Ian say heplunged into religious argument with every one he met. "

"Well, Rahal, I don't know how it happened, but I quickly found myselfin a good atmosphere of contradictions. I do not remember either whatI had been saying, but I heard him distinctly assert, that 'it was theArmenians who had described the Calvinists, and they had not wastedtheir opportunities. ' Then I found myself telling him that Armenianismhad ruled the religious world ever since the birth of Christianity;but that Calvinism was a thing of yesterday, a mere Geneva opinion. Rahal, the man has a dogma for a soul, and yet through this hardveil, I could see that he was full of a longing for love; but he hasnot found out the way to love, his heart is ice-bound. He made me saythings I did not want to say, he stirred my soul round and round untilit boiled over, and then the words would come. Really, Rahal, I didnot know the words were in my mind, till his aggravating questionsmade me say them. "

"What words? Art thou troubled about them?"

"A little. He was talking of faith and doubt, especially as itreferred to the Bible, and I listened until I could bear it no longer. He was asking what proof there was for this, and that, and the other, and as I said, he got me stirred up beyond myself and I told him Icared nothing about proofs. I said proofs were for sceptics and notfor good men who _knew_ in whom they had believed. "

"Well then, Coll, that was enough, was it not?"

"Not for Macrae. He said immediately, 'Suppose there was no divineauthority for the scheme of morals and divinity laid down in thisBook, ' and he laid his hand reverently on the Bible, 'where should webe?' And I told him, we should be just where we were, because God'scommands were written on every conscience and that these commandswould stand firm even if creeds became dust, and Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul, all failed and passed away. 'Power of God!' I cried, asI struck the table with my fist, 'it takes God's tireless, patient, eternal love to put up with puny men, always doubting Him. I believein God the Father Almighty, the Maker of heaven and earth!' I said, 'and I want no proofs about Him in whom I believe. ' By this time, Rahal, he had me on fire. I was ready to deny anything he asserted, especially about hell, for thou knows, Rahal, that there are hells inthis world and no worse needed. So when he asked if I believed in theCalvinistic idea of hell, I answered, 'I deny it! My soul deniesit--utterly!' I reminded him that God spoke to Dives in hell andcalled him son and that Dives, even there, clung to the fatherhood ofGod. And I told him this world was a hell to those who deserved hell, and a place of much trial to most men and women, and I thought it waspoor comfort to preach to such, that the next world was worse. Therenow! I have told you enough. He asked me to lunch with him, and I did;and I told him as we ate, what a fine fellow Ian was, and he listenedand was silent. "

"Then you saw Ian's mother and sister?" asked Thora. 

"No, I did not. They had gone for the winter to the Bridge of Allan. Mrs. Macrae is sick, her husband seemed unhappy about her. "

Rahal hoped now that her home would settle itself into its usual calm, methodical order. She strove to give to every hour its long accustomedduty, and to infuse an atmosphere of rest and of "use and wont" intoevery day's affairs. It was impossible. The master of the house hadsuffered a world change. He had tasted of strange pleasures andenthusiasms, and was secretly planning a life totally at variance withhis long accustomed routine and responsibilities. He did not speak ofthe things in his heart but nevertheless they escaped him. 

Very soon he began to have much more regular communication with hissons in Shetland, and finally he told Rahal that he intended takinghis son Robert into partnership. Such changes grew slowly in Ragnor'smind, and much more slowly in practice, but Rahal knew that they weresteadily working to some ultimate, and already definite and determinedend in her husband's will. 

The absent also exerted a far greater power upon the home than anyone believed. Ian's letters came with persistent regularity, and theinfluence of one was hardly spent, when another arrived of quite adifferent character. Ian was rapidly realizing his hopes. He had beengladly taken into a surgical corps, under the charge of a DoctorFrazer, and his life was a continual drama of stirring events. Generally he wrote between actions, and then he described the gallantyoung men resting on the slopes of the beleaguered hill, with theirweapons at their finger tips, but always cheerful. Sometimes he spokeof them under terrible fire in their life-or-death push forward, followed by the surgeons and stretcher-bearers. Sometimes, he had beento the trenches to dress a wound that would not stop bleeding, butalways he wondered at seeing the resolute grit and calmness of theseyoung men, who had been the dandies in London drawing-rooms a year agoand who were now smoking placidly in the trenches at Redan. 

"What is it?" he asked an old surgeon, on whom he was waiting. "Is itrecklessness?"

"No, sir!" was the answer. "It is straight courage. Courage in theblood. Courage nourished on their mother's milk. Courage educated intothem at Eton or Rugby, in many a fight and scuffle. Courage thatlived with them night and day at Oxford or Cambridge, and that madethem choose danger and death rather than be known for one moment as acad or a coward. It was dancing last year. It is fighting in a properquarrel this year. Different duties, that is all. "

Every now and then Sunna dropped them letters about which there wasmuch pleasant speculating, for as the summer came forward, she beganto accept the disappointments made by the death of Boris, and toconsider what possibilities of life were still within her power. Shesaid in May that "she was sick and weary of everything aboutSebastopol, and that she wanted to go back to Scotland, far morefrantically than she ever wanted to leave it. " In June, she said, shehad got her grandfather to listen to reason, but had been forced tocry for what she wanted, a humiliation beyond all apologies. 

Her next letter was written in Edinburgh, where she declared sheintended to stay for some time. Maximus Grant was in Edinburgh withhis little brother, who was under the care and treatment of an eminentsurgeon living there. "The poor little laddie is dying, " she said, "but I am able to help him over many bad hours, and Max is nothalf-bad, that is, he might be worse if left to himself. Heigh-ho!What varieties of men, and varieties of their trials, poor women haveto put up with!"

As the year advanced Sunna's letters grew bright and more and morelike her, and she described with admirable imitative piquancy theliterary atmosphere and conversation which is Edinburgh's native air. In the month of November, little Eric went away suddenly, in aparoxysm of military enthusiasm, dying literally the death of asoldier "with tumult, with shouting, and with the sound of thetrumpets, " in his soul's hearing. 

"We adored him, " wrote Sunna, in her most fervent religious mood, which was just as sincere as any other mood. "He was such a loving, clever little soul, and he lay so long within the hollow of Death'ssickle. There he heard and saw wonderful things, that I would not dareto speak of. Max has wept very sincerely. It is my lot apparently, toadminister drops of comfort to him. In this world, I find that womencan neither hide nor run away from men and their troubles, the momentanything goes wrong with them, they fly to some woman and throw theircalamity on her. "

"It is easy to see which way Sunna is drifting, " said Rahal, afterthis letter had been read. "She will marry Maximus Grant, of course. "

"Mother, her grandfather wishes that marriage. It is very suitable. His silent, masterful way will cure Sunna's faults. "

"It will do nothing of the kind. What the cradle rocks, the spadeburies. If Sunna lives to be one hundred years old--a thing notunlikely--she will be Sunna. Just Sunna. "

During all this summer, Ragnor was deeply engrossed in his business, and the Vedders remained in Edinburgh, as did also Mistress Brodie, though she had had all the best rooms in her Kirkwall houseredecorated. "It is her hesitation about grandfather. She will, andshe won't, " wrote Sunna, "and she keeps grandfather hanging by ahair. " Then she made a few scornful remarks about "the hesitating_liaisons_ of old women" and concluded that it all depended upon themarriage ceremony. 

 Grandfather [she wrote] wants to sneak into some out of the way little church, and get the business over as quickly and quietly as possible; and Mistress Brodie has dreams of a peach-bloom satin gown, and a white lace bonnet. She thought "that was enough for a second affair"; and when I gently hoped that it was at least an affair of the heart, she said with a distinct snap, "Don't be impertinent, Miss!" However, all this is but the overture to the great matrimonial drama, and it is rather interesting. 

 I saw by a late London paper that Thora's lover has gone and got himself decorated, or crossed, for doing some dare-devil sort of thing about wounded men. I wonder how Thora will like to walk on Pall Mall with a man who wears a star or a medal on his breast. Such things make women feel small. For, of course, we could win stars and medals if we had the chance. Max considers Ian "highly praise-worthy. " Max lately has a way of talking in two or three syllables. I am trying to remember where I left my last spelling book; I fear I shall have to get up my orthography. 

The whole of this year A. D. 1855 was one of commonplaces stirred bytragic events. It is this conjunction that makes the most prosaic oflives always a story. It only taught Thora and Rahal to make the mostof such pleasures as were within their reach. In the evening Ragnorwas always ready to share what they had to offer, but in the daytimehe was getting his business into such perfect condition that he couldleave it safely in charge of his son Robert for a year, or more, ifthat was his wish. 

On the second of March, the Czar Nicholas died, and there was goodhope in that removal. In June, General Raglan died of cholera, and onthe following fifth of September, the Russians, finding they could nolonger defend Sebastopol, blew up its defences and also its twoimmense magazines of munitions. This explosion was terrific, the veryearth appeared to reel. The town they deliberately set on fire. Thenon Sunday morning, September the ninth, the English and French tookpossession of the great fortress, though it was not until the last dayof February, A. D. 1856, that the treaty of peace was signed. 

After the occupation of Sebastopol, however, there was a cessation ofhostilities, and the hospitals rapidly began to empty and thephysicians and surgeons to return home. Dr. Frazer remained at hispost till near Christmas, and was then able to leave the few casesremaining in the charge of competent nurses. Ian remained at his sideand they returned to England together. It was then within a few daysof Christmas, and Ian hastened northward without delay. 

There was no hesitating welcome for him now; he was met by the truestand warmest affection, he was cheerfully given the honour which he hadfaithfully won. And the wedding day was no longer delayed, it wasjoyfully hastened forward. Bishop Hedley, the Vedders and MaximusGrant had already arrived and the little town was all agog and eagerfor the delayed ceremony. Sunna had brought with her Thora's newwedding dress and the day had been finally set for the first ofJanuary. 

"Thou will begin a fresh life with a fresh year, " said Rahal to herdaughter. "A year on which, as yet, no tears have fallen; and whichhas not known care or crossed purpose. On its first page thou willwrite thy marriage joy and thy new hopes, and the light of a perfectlove will be over it. "

In the meantime life was full of new delights to Thora. Wonderfulthings were happening to her every day. The wedding dress was here. Adam Vedder had brought her a pretty silver tea service, AuntBarbie--now Madame Vedder--had remembered her in many of thosewomanwise ways, that delight the heart of youth. Even Dominie Macraehad sent her a gold watch, and the little sister-in-law had chosen forher gift some very pretty laces. Rich and poor alike brought her theirgood-will offerings, and many old Norse awmries were ransacked in thesearch for jewels or ornaments of the jade stone, which all held as"luck beyond breaking. "

The present which pleased Thora most of all was a new wedding-dress, the gift of her mother. The rich ivory satin was perfect and peerlessin its exquisite fit and simplicity; jewels, nor yet lace, could haveadded nothing to it. Sunna had brought it with her own toilet. Infact, she was ready to make a special sensation with it on the firstof January, for her wedding garment as Thora's bridesmaid was nothingless than a robe of gold and white shot silk, worn over a hoop. Shehad been wearing a hoop all winter in Edinburgh, but she was quitesure she would be the first "hooped lady" to appear in Kirkwall town. Thora might wear the bride veil, with its wreath of myrtle androsemary, but she had a pleasant little laugh, as she mentally sawherself in the balloon of white and gold shot silk, walkingmajestically up the nave of St. Magnus. It was so long since hoops hadbeen worn. None of the present generation of Kirkwall women could everhave seen a lady in a hoop, and behind the present generation therewas no likelihood of any hooped ladies in Kirkwall. 

Thora had no hoop. Her orders had been positively against it andunless Madame Vedder had slipped inside "the bell" she could notimagine any rival. As she made this reflection, she smiled, and thentranslated the smile into the thought, "If she has, she will look likea haystack. "

Now Ian's military suit in his department had been of white duff orlinen, plentifully adorned with gilt buttons and bands representingsome distinctive service. It was the secret desire of Ian to wear thissuit, and he rather felt that Thora or his mother-in-law should askhim to do so. For he knew that its whiteness and gilt, and tiny knotsof ribbon, gave to the wearer that military air, which all men yearn alittle after. He wished to wear it on his wedding day but Thora hadnot thought of it, neither had Sunna. However, on the 29th, Rahal, that kind, wise woman, asked him as a special favour, to wear hismedical uniform. She said, "the townsfolk would be so disappointedwith black broadcloth and a pearl-grey waistcoat. They longed to seehim as he went onto the battlefield, to save or succour the wounded. "

"But, Mother, " he answered, "I went in the plainest linen suit tobring in the wounded and dying. "

"I know, dear one, but they do not know, and it is not worth whiledestroying an innocent illusion, we have so few of them as we growold. "

"Very well, Mother, it shall be as you wish. "

"Of course Ian wished to wear it, " said Sunna. 

"Oh, Sunna, you must not judge all men from Max. "

"I am far from that folly. Your father has been watching the winds andthe clouds all day. So have I. Conall Ragnor is always picturesque, even poetical. I feel safe if I follow him. He says it will be finetomorrow. I hope so!"

This hope was more than justified. It was a day of sunshine and littlewandering south winds, and the procession was a fact. Now Ragnor knewthat this marriage procession, as a national custom, was passing away, but it had added its friendliness to his own and all his sons' anddaughters' weddings and he wanted Thora's marriage ceremonial toinclude it. "When thou art an old woman, Thora, " he said to her, "thenthou wilt be glad to have remembered it. "

At length the New Year dawned and the day arrived. All was ready forit. There was no hurry, no fret, no uncertainty. Thora rode to thecathedral in the Vedder's closed carriage with her father and mother. Ian was with Maximus and Sunna in the Galt landeau. Adam Vedder andhis bride rode together in their open Victoria and all were ready asthe clock struck ten. Then a little band of stringed instruments andyoung men took their place as leaders of the procession, and when theystarted joyfully "Room for the Bride!" the carriages took the placesassigned them and about two hundred men and women, who had gathered atthe Ragnor House, followed in procession, many joining in thesinging. 

The cathedral was crowded when they reached it, and Dr. Hedley inwhite robes came forward to meet the bride and, with smiles and lovinggood will, to unite her forever to the choice of her soul. 

It was almost a musical marriage. Melody began and followed and closedthe whole ceremonial. About twenty returned with the bridal party tothe Ragnor House to eat the bridal dinner, but the general townsfolkwere to have their feast and dance in the Town Hall about seven in theevening. The Bishop stayed only to bless the meal, for the boat waswaiting that was to carry him to a Convocation of the Church thensitting in Edinburgh. But he wore his sprig of rosemary on his vest, and he stood at Ragnor's right hand and watched him mix the BrideCup, watched him mingle in one large silver bowl of pre-Christian agethe pale, delicious sherry and fine sugar and spices and stir thewhole with a strip of rosemary. Then every guest stood up and wasserved with a cup, most of them having in their hand a strip ofrosemary to stir it with. And after the Bishop had blessed the brideand blessed the bridegroom, he said, "I will quote for you a passagefrom an old sermon and after it, you will stir your cup again withrosemary and grow it still more plentifully in your gardens. 

"The rosemary is for married men and man challengeth it, as belongingproperly to himself. It helpeth the brain, strengtheneth the memory, and affects kindly the heart. Let this flower of man ensign yourwisdom, love and loyalty, and carry it, not only in your hands, but inyour heads and hearts. " Then he lifted his glass and stirred the winewith his strip of rosemary, and as he did so all followed his example, while he repeated from an old romance the following lines:

 . .. "Before we divide, Let us dip our rosemaries In one rich bowl of wine, to this brave girl And to the gentleman. "

With these words he departed, and the utmost and happiest interchangeof all kinds of good fellowship followed. Every man and woman was atperfect ease and ready to give of the best they had. Even Adam Vedderdelighted all, and especially his happy-looking bride, by his clevercondensation of Sunna's favourite story of "The Banded Men. " Nofinished actor could have made it, in its own way, a finer model ofdramatic narrative, especially in its quaint reversal of the partsusually played by father and son, into those of the prodigal fatherand the money-loving, prudent son. Then a little whisper went roundthe table and it sprang from Sunna, and people smiled and rememberedthat Adam had won his wife from three younger men than himself and, asif by a single, solid impulse, they stirred their wine cups once moreand called for a cheer for the old bridegroom, who had been faithfulfor forty years to his first love and had then walked off with her, from Provost, Lawyer and Minister; all of them twenty years youngerthan himself. 

Getting near to three o'clock, they began to sing and Rahal waspleased to hear that sound of peace, for several guests were just fromthe battlefield and quite as ready for a quarrel as a song. Alsoduring the little confusion of removing fruit and cake and glasses, and the substitution of the cups and saucers and the strong, hot, sweet tea that every Norseman loves, Ian and Thora slipped awaywithout notice. Max Grant's carriage put them in half-an-hour on thethreshold of their own home. They crossed it hand and hand and Iankissed the hand he held and Thora raised her face in answer; but wordshave not yet been invented that can speak for such perfect happiness. 

 Love is rich in his own right, He is heir of all the spheres, In his service day and night Swing the tides and roll the years. What has he to ask of fate? Crown him, glad or desolate. 

 Time puts out all other flames But the glory of his eyes; His are all the sacred names, His the solemn mysteries. Crown him! In his darkest day He has Heaven to give away!

Ian's business arrangements curtailed the length of any festivity inrelation to the marriage. He had already signed an agreement with Dr. Frazer to return to him as soon as possible after the twelfth day andremain as his assistant until he was fully authenticated a surgeon bythe proper schools. In the meantime he would enter the London Schoolof Medicine and Surgery and give to Dr. Frazer all the time notdemanded by its hours and exercises. For this attention Ian was toreceive from Dr. Frazer one hundred pounds a year. Furthermore, whenIan had received the proper authority to call himself Dr. John Macrae, he was to have the offer of a partnership with Dr. Frazer, on whatwere considered very favourable terms. 

So their little romance was at last happily over. Ian was aninfinitely finer and nobler man. He had dwelt amid great acts andgreat suffering for a year and had not visited the House of Mourningin vain. All that was light and trifling had fallen away from him. Heregarded his life and talents now as a great and solemn charge and wasresolved to make them of use to his fellows. And Thora was lovelierthan she had ever been. She had learned self-restraint and she hadhoped through evil days, till good days came; so then, she knew how tolook for good when all appeared wrong and by faith and will, bringgood out of evil. 

After Thora and her husband left for London a great change took placein the Ragnor home. Ragnor had been preparing for it ever since hisvisit to London and, within a month, Robert Ragnor and his wife andfamily came from Shetland and took possession. It gave Rahal a littlepain to see any woman in her place but that was nothing, she was goingto give her dear Coll the dream of his life. She was going to travelwith him, and see all the civilized countries in the world! She wasgoing to London first, and last, of all!

CHAPTER XI

SEQUENCES

Not long ago I found in a list of Orkney and Shetland literatureseveral volumes by a Conall Ragnor, two of them poetry. But that justtended to certify a suspicion. Sixty years ago I had heard him repeatsome Gallic poems and had known instinctively, though only a girl ofeighteen, that the man was a poet. 

It roused in me a curiosity I felt it would be pleasant to gratify, and so a little while after I began this story, I wrote to a Londonnewspaper man and asked him to send me some of his Orkney exchanges. Ihave a habit of trusting newspaper editors and I found this one as Iexpected, willing and obliging. He sent me two Orkney papers and thefirst thing I noticed was the prevalence of the old names. Among themI saw Mrs. Max Grant, and I thought I would write to her and take mychance of the lady turning out to be the old Sunna Vedder. It wasquite a possibility, as we were apparently about the same age when Isaw her. It was only for an hour or two in the evening we met, at theRagnor house, but girls see a deal in an hour or two and if Iremembered her, she had doubtless chronicled an opinion of me. 

In about five weeks Mrs. Grant's letter in answer to mine arrived. Shebegan it by saying she remembered me, because I wore a hat, a sailor'shat, and she said it was the first hat she ever saw on a woman's head. She said also, that I told her women were beginning to wear them forshopping and walking and driving, or out at sea, but never for churchor visiting. All of which I doubtless said, for it was my first hat. And I do not remember women wearing hats at all until about thistime. 

 I suppose [she continued] thou wants to know first of all about the Vedders. They were _the_ people then, and they have not grown a bit smaller, nor do they think any less of themselves yet. My grandfather married again and was not sorry for it. I don't know whether his wife was sorry or not. I took Maximus Grant for a husband for, after Boris Ragnor died, I did not care who I took, provided he had plenty of good qualities and plenty of gold. We lived together thirty years very respectably. I took my way and I usually expected him to do the same. We had four sons, and they have nine sons among them, and all of the nine are now fighting the vipers they have been coddling for forty or fifty years. Some are in the regular army, some in the navy, and some in the plucky, fighting little navy, patrolling England and her brood of coastwise islands. They are a tough, rough, hard lot, but I love them all better than anything else in this world. There are a good many Vedder houses in Orkney, and they are all full of little squabbling, fighting, never clean, and never properly dressed little brats, from four to eleven years old. So I don't worry about there being Vedders enough to run things the way they want them run. 

 The Ragnors are here in plenty. All the men are at the war, all the women running fishing boats or keeping general shops, to which I like to see the Germans going. They are told what kind of people they are as they walk up to the shops; and they get what they want at an impoverishing price. Serve them right! Men, however, will pay any money for a thing they want. 

 There has not been such good times in Orkney since I was born, as there is now. We have an enemy to beat in trade and an enemy to beat in fight at our very doors, and our men are neither to hold nor to bind, they are that top-lofty. War is a man's native air. My sons and grandsons are all two inches taller than they were and they defy Nature to contradict them. I never attempt it. Well, then, they are proper men in all things, a little hard to deal with and masterful, but just as I wish them. My grandfather died fifty years ago, he might have lived longer if he had not married. His widow wept in the deepest black and people thought she was sorry. 

 The Ragnors are mostly here and in Shetland. Conall Ragnor never really settled down again. Rahal and he lived in Edinburgh or London, when not travelling. I heard that Conall wrote books and really got money for them. I cannot believe that. Rahal died first. Conall lived a month after her. They were laid in earth in Stromness Church-yard. My grandfather wanted to bring the body of Boris home and bury it in Stromness, and I would not let him. He is all mine where he sleeps in the Crimea. I don't want him among a congregation of his brothers and sisters and uncles and aunts. 

 * * * * *

 I suppose thou must have heard of Thora's husband. He really did become famous, and I was told his father forgave him all his youthful follies. It was said Thora managed that in some clever way; but I'm sure I don't know what to say. Thora never seemed at all clever to me. She had many children, but she died long ago, though she did live long enough to see her husband knighted and her eldest boy marry the daughter of a lord. I have no doubt she was happy in her own way, only she never did dress herself as a person in the best society ought to have done. I once told her so. "Well, then, " she said, "I dress to please my husband. " Imagine such simplicity! As to myself I am getting near to ninety, but I live a good life and God helps me. I have kept my fine hair and complexion and I run around on my little errands quite comfortably. Indeed I am sunwise able for everything I want. I shall be glad to hear from thee again, and if thou wilt send me occasionally some of those delightful American papers, thou wilt make me much thy debtor. Also, I want thee to tell all the brave young Americans thou knows that if they would like a real life on the ocean wave, they ought to join our wonderful patrol round the English coast. They will learn more and see more and feel more in a month, in this little interfering navy, than they'd learn in a lifetime in a first-class man-of-war. 

 Write to me again and then we shall have tied our friendship with a three-fold letter. Thine, with all good will and wishes, SUNNA VEDDER GRANT. 

This is a woman's letter and it must have a postscript. It is only twolines of John Stuart Blackie's, and it should have been at thebeginning, but it will touch your heart at the end as well as at thebeginning. 

 "Oh, for a breath of the great North Sea, Girdling the mountains!" S. V. G. 

 * * * * *

Transcriber Notes

Fixed probable typos. 

Hyphenation standardized. 

Archaic and variable spelling is preserved. 

Author's punctuation style is preserved, except quote marks, whichhave been standardized. 

Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_.