Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume II)

ay down through the dark streets, he imagined her to be still by his side; he tried to fancy he could detect some faint pe

s to be got through, before he could go up to her in the morning, and challenge her to speak. All the future was filled with her; and there again he saw himself by her side, her strong and confident p

title, the more clearly did it spell out "Maisrie Bethune." The sub-headings, too, began to reveal hidden mysteries. Here was one which on the face of it read "Circumstances in which the capitalist may become a tyrant in spite of himself." But behold! that scrawl slowly disappeared, and in its place a picture grew into existence. He seemed to recognise the big grey building-was it not the mansion-house of Balloray?-and well he knew the figure of the tall young girl with the long-flowing hair who, in riding-habit, came out on to the terrace, above the wide stone steps. Is that her grandfather, proud-featured, lion-hearted, with the same undaunted demeanour as of old, come to wave her good-bye? The splendour of the morning is all around her; there is a whit

map of Scotland, and traced out the line of travel he should like to follow if Maisrie and her grandfather and himself should ever start on their long-projected tour. He turned to a map of the United States, and sought out Omaha: Maisrie's birthplace was not distinguished by any difference of type, and yet he regarded those five letters with a curious interest and fascination. He recalled his having stood on the heights of Council Bluffs, and looked across the yellow Missouri; and now he marvelled that he could have contemplated the wide, straggling city with comparat

He could not keep his eyes on any book or paper when there were those two windows over the way. When would she appear there to water the chrysanthemums in the little balcony? If she accidentally caught sight of him, might not some tell-tale flush reveal all he wanted to know? Or she might

e marched by; the cabman flicked at his horse out of mere good humour; the ostlers in the adjacent mews made merry with bandied jests. It seemed too fine a morning for the collation of Scotch ballads; and so indeed it proved to be; for about eleven o'clock the door across the way was op

omething in secret to him, even amid the noise and movement of a great crowd. And now that he saw her actual self instead of the vague phantom of his reveries, he plucked up courage. Yes, she must have known what she was doing. Those were flesh and blood fingers that had taken hold of his; when she raised his hand to her heart, it could not have been altogether through inadvertence. Once or twice a wild fancy got in

refused to act. Industry-capital-the proposed resumption by the workers of the world of the mines, factories, docks, ships, canals, railways which their labour had constructed-the impracticability of land nationalisation-and so forth: what were these but mere lifeless phrases, when his heart was listening for the smallest sound on the other side of the street? And ill-luck pursued him. Sh

and he rose at once. "You have had your wish-though I

and for a moment, and regarded him with very friendly eyes, the

s amanuensis. Not that I am the slightest real use to him, I suppose; it is only done to please me; still, I t

e? And then wounded pride stepped in and spoke-with its usual violence and cruel injustice. Perhaps there were people who dispensed their caresses so freely that they thought nothing of them? What had startled him, a

s his questions were all about the projected compilation of ballads, and as old George Bethune was always keenly enthusiastic about any new undertaking, there was no stint to their conversation. Maisrie walked on in silenc

them, "I think they are beyond the reach of illustration, even if there should be an édition de luxe. I have considered your suggestion more than once; but I fear the drawing would in almost every in

e frost that

g snaw's i

cauld that

s heart grow

me in by G

comely sig

clad i' the

elf in cr

aken it? You remember in 'Edom o' Gordon' how the young maiden is low

her in a pai

her owre

point o' Go

a dead

bonnie was

y were he

lear was her

he red bl

spear he tu

er face

are the fir

d alive

er owre and

r skin w

spared that

n some man

boun, my m

dooms I

ok on that

s on the

lear as flame! Then, again, take the girl who was drowne

: it is not Balloray, it is Binnorie;' and again 'Vincent, he has forgotten: that is all.' But neither of them took any notice of her; nay, the younger man, in his insensate indignation

a see her

y, O Ba

pearls that w

e mill-dams

see her m

y, O Ba

girdle wa

e mill-dams

a see her

y, O Ba

fringes wer

e mill-dams

hey be, whae

y, O Ba

at live to we

e mill-dams

said; and then the old man proceeded to talk of paper and ty

aken sweetheart who had come to tempt the wedded wife, but a fiend adopting that disguise. When they reached the little parlour he began to search about for the volume in which "The Demon Lover" was thus treated;

done, Vince

e made answer, a

t to know," sh

d he. "I-I made a mi

. There was a paper-knife on the table beside her; she took that into her hands, an

rary, after a second or two of

e, "perhaps it's all a mistake on my part.

ent," said she, in a somewhat

nite understanding between you and me: yes, I was hoping for much-and then-and then I foun

ht?" she

ned last night? Don't you know that you pressed my hand to your hear

ing of the value of true friends-and I could not say much-yet I wished to tell you what I thought of all y

now I love you; you must have seen it all this time; there was no need for me to speak. And when the future has but the one hope for me, that some day or other you should be my wife, then perhaps I was too eager to belie

and there was in her eyes the strangest look

Vincent?" she said, quite gently

ectionate eyes, this handsome lad on whom fortune had shed all go

Then she turned her eyes towards him again; and there was a smile in them, of an unstable kind; and tears were gathering in the lashes. "Well," she said, "it will be something for me to th

n't want to frighten you; no, I want you to be of good heart, and you will see things will turn out all right in the end. And if you don't know your own mind yet-if you are afraid to say anything-won't you let me guess? Surely

d to relea

ad way, "I think the time has about come that we should part. It has been a pleasant companionship: I am not likely ever to forget it. But your future is so important, and ours so uncertain, that I am sure the sooner we go separate ways the better. And I am anxious to make a

while I can!"

n without

an old man. He has done everything for me: why should I not do something for him now? And I have no pride. The story about those Scotch estates was always a kind of fairy tale to me; I never had any real belief in the possibility of their coming to us; I was never a fin

it or not. When you speak of your duty towards your grandfather, that I understand. He has been everything to you: who would ask you to forsake him? But, as you say, he is an old man. If anything were to happen to him, think of your own position. You have hardly a friend in the world-a few acqua

the vibrating tones of his voice; and the

e situated: you are so generous, so open-minded, that-that you see eve

e? Who?" he demand

think I am looking forward to all that is expected of you?-and when I hear of you as this or that, I will say to myself 'I kn

ds, and sobbed without possibility of concealment. He was by her side

ou that my life is my own. And why should you be any drag or hamper-you! I wish you would think of yourself a little: not of me. Surely there is something better in the world than ambition, and figuring before the public in newspapers." Then he stopped for a second or two; and resumed in a lower

ro

-much better. Now I must go and help grandfather to find that book. And as this is to be the la

e drew her towards him, and took her head between his hands, and pushed back the hair from he

care whether you say it or not-when I know?" And therewith he kissed her on the mouth-and a

to be free from him,

have not been frank with you-I cannot eve

ith her eyes streaming over with tears, he glanced from the one to the other in silence. Then he walked deliberately forward to the table, and laid down the books. Maisrie escaped from the room. Vincent returned to the fireplace, too bewildered by her last words to care much what construction might be placed upon this scene by her g

books, and was staring into the fire, as he sa

time back; and that is not well for anyone, especially for a young girl. A limitation of interests; that is not wholesome. The mind becomes morbid; and exaggerates trifles. And in the case of Maisri

cent said, anxiously-for he kne

t is not wise for people to see too much of each other; it puts too heavy a strain on friendship. Com

'Oh, very well, then; I don't press any further acquaintance on you!' Bu

nship stood-a little relaxation after the labours of the d

same time I confess that, as regards Maisrie, I think that some alteration in our m

he young man protested-for it suddenly occurred to him that Maisrie was to b

e time nor the means. I should merely propose to pack up a few books and things, and ta

d been dreading. Brighton-Brighton was not Toronto nor Montreal; there was going to be no wide Atl

ghton is brisk and lively enough at this time of the year; and if there is any sunli

ce. And perhaps we might get rooms in a house on the hill at the back of the town; that would give me seclusio

nd that the separation from Maisrie was of a mild and temporary nature that he affected to give a quite cordial approval. He even offered to engage the services of his aunt, Mrs. Ellison, in securing them

of her recent agitation, though she was still somewhat pale. And Vincent-to show her that he refused to be alarmed by h

Maisrie?" said he. "He is going to take you down to Brighton

to the other, as if fearing

nt?" she asked,

ot meet

institutions," continued this consummate hypocrite (as if the chief thought in his mind at this moment was the housing of the industrious poor!), "and of the greatest importance to the country at large; worked at a profit, too, that is the amazing thing! Fancy at Huddersfield; threepence a day includes use of cooking and table utensils, a smoking-room, reading-room, and conversation-ro

Vincent?" she asked

ever, that is neither here nor there. But if this is to be our last night together for a little while, Maisrie," he went on, to keep up his complacen

and got the violin-though she wa

father?" she said

er you

ir, and yet pathetic in its way; and indeed so sensitive and skilful was her touch that the violin seemed to speak

is cauld as

k is wan

ye tremble

your e'e s

on the gro

is cauld

a burnin'

s my hear

*

e tryst wi

ye trys

ye by the

les down

ryst wi' y

a tryst

our tryst in

ingtime o'

r grandfather said, fretfully.

t: there was a mute

Claire Fontaine,

f farewell; but she did as she was bidden. She went and got the book and pla

something added to the pure, clear tones of her voice-some quality of an indefinable na

lus haut

point at wh

ignol c

rossigno

as le co

was well; but

gtemps que

e ne t'o

nt cursed his folly a hundred times over: why had he asked h

rossigno

as le co

e coeur

' ai-t-à

ying to master herself; then she laid the violin on the table, and with a broken "Good-night, Vincent-and good-

an instant

a deep frown on his shaggy eyebrows. "Her nerves are all wrong. Wh

isrie's mind: it was the words that he had spoken to her, and she to him, earlier in the even