A Daughter of Fife

ange in every

cowslip in th

y with the fir

rly change,

om his hand proud

beads of a t

courtesies of life; nor indeed, had it in any degree dulled the sincere affection between father and son. As they stood a moment hand-fast, they looked into each oth

so long, Allan? I hav

he East coa

d out what you

back with me a few pictures which I hope you will like.

p at Largo to see a ya

is

oma.] Madeira tonight. The occasion will excuse it." Allan felt grateful, for he knew what the order really meant-it was the wine of homecoming, and rejoicing, and gratitude. And afterall, he had been something of a prodigal, and his father's greeting, so full of regard, so destitute of reproach, had touched him very much. How beautiful was Clyde side! How homelike t

at with a pleasure there was no mistaking. "I came my ways doon on a 'may be,' sir," he said proudly, "I jist had a feeling o' being wanted here. While

s and that, Archibald.

ito

ir. We hae a new minister.

hodox, I

nister to shoot close. Dr. MacDonald is an awfu' scattering man.

g feet. Allan had a keen sense of the easy, swift motion through the balmy atmosphere. As he leaned back against the comfortably cushioned vehicle, he could not help contrasting the circumstances with the hoary se

o the lofty leisurely way of a man accustomed to being served. He had dismissed his valet in Edinburgh, when he determined to go to Pittenloch, but he watched his father's servant brushing his dinner suit, and preparing his bath and toilet, without one dissenting feeling as to the absolute fitness of the attention. The l

e had brought with him; and looking a little ruefully at his browned and hardened hands, and the tan of wind and weather on his face. He hoped he would meet Mary bef

t them down, and went to meet him with a smile like sunshine. Her small, slender figure clothed in white India mull had a peculiarly fragile appearance; but Allan watched her, a

oat with the current unless I wish to do so," was his mental determination; "and I will not have it supposed that my return home is a surrender of my inclinations." Unfortunately John Campbell regarded it as such; and his desire was to adequately show his appreciatio

udy hard at work; and he saw at a glance the easy attitude of the young man among his new surroundings. When the servant said, "Here is a gentleman to call on you, Mr. Promoter," David rose without the slightest embarrassment to welcome his visitor; th

have you had

nt inside spacious halls o' delightfu' stillness an

I shall not be able to keep my promise, but

d if you were

see you again, David, I think your future is assured.

uldna find my way to Pittenloch wi' a gude Scot's tongue in my mouth, and siller in my p

esent, Davie, and give my

year after year, dressing and visiting, and taking little rows in land-locked bays, and little rides and drives with Mary Campbell? "I would rather fling a net in the stormiest sea that ever roared, for my daily bread," he said. Yet he went on dressing, and

tling ways. The deep, real feelings which we will not recognize while awake, take possession of us when we sleep; and the cup-bearer who was slain for dreaming tha

ll may be the

moonlig

keth in her

n the

are suffered

ed too keen fo

ling away from her. She stood upright in a little open boat, which the waves tossed to and fro:-a speechless, woe-

ated himself for having made her so. That very hour he wrote to David, and said all that he might say, to give her hope and comfort, and over and over he declared his purpose

benefit they claim from the pressure of unread mails and doubtful affairs. If her cousin was quiet and sombre, he might have half-a-dozen innocent reasons for the humor; when he felt more social, he would b

at, there was a hedge of fuchsias seven feet high and very thick. Her small dark head rested against its green and scarlet masses. The little bay tinkled and murmured among the pebbles at her feet. She had a book, but she was not reading. She had some crochet, but

n he desired, Mary broke the silence by a sudden question. "Cousin

I should like to have talked on that subj

O

u feel cur

there was something sin

? I never heard you s

Fife fisherman got it for me. I liked

ate. Now then, what singular

ened. Is this my cate

t. It is your tu

ow why I l

ifference' wi

t ab

sure you were very extravag

not abou

ou ought to do something, Allan. I

ut business. It

M

d his dream by night. He cannot bear to think of a stranger or a strange name in its old rooms. Long ago, when we were little children, our marriage was planned, and when the place was clear, and you had grown to a

s labor, have saved Drumloch to the family. It is as much his purchase as if he had bought every acre at public roup. And he has been a second father to me; kind, generous, thoughtful. It is hard enough f

ot be reali

distinctly refuse to accept you as a husband. Uncle John is a gentleman; he will consider my 'no' as final; and he is too just to blame you, because I decline to be your wife. Nor shall w

use; the air is heavy and

ors-Mary was sweet and sensible, and a woman to be desired above all other women-except Maggie. Yet, after all, was he not paying a great price for his pearl?" Mary and Maggie were both difficult to resign. He began to grumb

atmosphere of the dinner table chilled him a little, but for once the subject on which he was always hoping and fearing did not enter his mind. When Mary left the room, he said cheerfully, "We will be with you anon

y told me positively this morni

rry you? Did

said

you! Your father would

wife. If you will speak to Mary, you will

n hardly believe this sorr

Your decision is a sore trouble to me; almost the worst trouble that could come to me. Oh, Mary, what is the matter? Is not Alla

he loves some other

. Did he tell you su

so. However, Allan is t

We must save Drumloch f

can that be done if Alla

only the steward of Drumloch; I shall save it for Allan or Allan's children. If I die, its disposition will

rop of comfort for me. I will buy Drumloch any day you wish

ould not fret yourself one moment, uncle. There i

blind, and deaf, and foolish, or he

ts for everything. Do you know whe

enius certainly; the Campbells mostly have genius. I had siller to make, or I c

he Fife fish

s. The Fife fishers are a fine rac

think. Did you notice t

gave

splendid study

n in Allan's

e he retu

will find the walls co

udy the same figure reap

am right, uncle

sher-

g over the sea. The face is so splendid, the figure so fine, the sense of life so ample, that it haunts you. And every likeness of her has just that tinge

quick obser

oracles as well a

ntment, as well as himself. "But she would die before she would make a complaint," he thought, "and I may learn a lesson from her. It

their hopes fail, they have no time left, often no ability left to renew them. To make the best of things was all that now remained; and he was the more able to do this because of Mary'

lighted the gas. Then John Campbell made an effort to shake off the influence which oppressed him. He laid down the ivory paper knife, which he had been turning mechanically in his fingers, rose, and went to the window. How dark it was! The dripping outlook made him shiver, and he turned ba