about these stupid rumours? They cannot affect you, my darling, that is one supreme consolation.'

'But what consolation would it be to me if they affected you in some dreadful way ?'

'Fear nothing for me,' said Alan gaily, pleased with the peculiar form and tone of Christine's question.

'I cannot help having fears,' she replied, looking earnestly in her lover's handsome face; and I would rather have you safe in Jamaica than in trouble here.'

'Are you sorry that I did not go ?' asked Alan, surprised and disturbed.

'No, no, dear; but would it not be a pity if, after neglecting that chance, you stayed here only to get entangled with people not worthy of you?'

'It is perhaps not too late yet for the Jamaica affair. But tell me candidly, do you want me to

go ?'

'Come, now, don't be offended. I don't want you to do anything against reason, and you know I would rather have you stay here. But tell me candidly, in your turn, are you satisfied with your present way of life?'

Alan hesitated, and looked at Christine wonderingly. He was puzzled, and perhaps nettled, by her business-like question. It seemed to him that she spoke more like a lawyer than a lover. He controlled

VOL. II.

F

his irritation, however, and after some moments of reflection, answered,

'In one sense, Christine, I am perfectly contented and happy. I am near you-you who love me, and whom I love. This is my heaven; and what more should I care for? Yet I will confess that, at times, I am not happy. I had hopes of learning an honourable profession with Mr. Strathern, though sometimes sickened with doubts as to my ability and liking for the calling of a lawyer. Often, though, I had great dreams of what I might become or achieve. These dreams and hopes were suddenly destroyed by that treacherous letter, which rendered my leaving Strathern unavoidable. What to do next was the question. Then arose the Jamaica situation, which is perhaps still open. But why should I stoop to ask from Strathern a certificate which he would likely decline to give?'

'Pride asks the question?'

'Maybe it is pride, or vanity, or cowardice, or all three combined. Perhaps your father is right in saying that a man should have the courage to risk a refusal, and to bear it when it comes, though it were the refusal of a right, and console himself with the thought that the refuser loses most. I don't understand that. Having too much pride, or not sufficient courage, I did not visit the lawyer; and here I am, learning engineering instead of law.'

'Which is rather a change of plan than a defeat.' 'Well, I hope so,' said Alan, with a shade of doubt on his face.

'Look up, Alan; don't let the sun set. You mind what my father says about the Emperor abolishing the Alps?'

'Yes; but Hannibal did that before Napoleon.' 'No matter; you can do more.'

'What's that?'

Abolish defeat!' she said, looking at Alan with glowing eyes.

'Well, Christine,' said Alan, his eyes flashing in response, I shall henceforth decline to acknowledge such a creature as defeat. I shall regard each so-called failure only as another step towards some greater success than I have yet dreamed of-something worthy of your own dear love and beautiful self.'

As Christine looked admiringly at her lover, who now, as he stood before her, appeared the very genius of beauty and courage, she answered his bold words with a glance which thrilled him, and under the spell of which nothing seemed impossible to his inflamed imagination.

Amen, dear Alan,' she said; 'your words are like sunshine to me-all hope, truth, and honour.' 'My own love!'

Surely these children had never before been so

happy. Through the cloud-rack of many fears, the sun of hope burst forth and dazzled them. Although still so young and wholly unsettled, it seemed as they stood there, lip to lip, as if they had already made a conquest of the world. Love is your only magician; and compared with these two, beautiful as new-winged butterflies in summer, crowned kings seemed only grubs.

CHAPTER IX.

A SHADOW.

It was not yet late as, shortly after leaving Christine, Alan sat in his own room, trying to hammer certain obstinate rhymes together, which he found to be a far more difficult task than welding together pieces of iron. He was still tugging at his hair when Mr. Dundas suddenly entered, and said,

‘I have doubtful news from Millheugh, Alan.' 'My father?'

'Yes, it's about him.'

'He is worse?'

'He is not better; and I fear—'

'Is he dying?'

'Well, Alan, there appears to be some apprehension that he will not recover; but I should hope they are wrong.'

The young man looked scared and pale, as he asked who brought the intelligence. It was one of the miller's men who had just arrived from Millheugh on his master's business.

'And it appears, Alan, that your father wants both you and myself to go up at once.'

"Then the worst has come. I shall walk up night.'

to

'No, no; we shall drive together. Get ready, and I will be with you in ten minutes.'

This was sudden and sad news to the young lovers, who had so recently babbled with each other in blissful ignorance of the cloud that was crawling up to darken the landscape of their dreams. They met for a moment, but they could only look at each other with white prophetic faces, and tenderly press each other's hands. In spite of their pure deep love, or perhaps in consequence of it, a chill was at the hearts of the two as they parted.

It was past midnight when the travellers reached the clachan of Millheugh, which lay in its peaceful hollow, silent itself, but listening to the weird, halfhuman voice of the Avon, as it slid moaningly from ledge to ledge, and now dashed impetuously against the gray boulders that blocked its course.

There was a light in Sandy Dalziel's cottage; and when Mr. Dundas and Alan entered, they found that the days of the invalid were really numbered,