when I commenced to think other? Just since I've had the happiness of knowing you."

And then he paused, and Maggie stood silent also, her fingers playing nervously with her watch-chain.

If

"Miss Maitland, I have to leave Fernytofts this weekand may I take away with me the hope that you may be able to like me well enough, one day-to accept my hand? so, there may yet be a chance of happiness for me. ye think ye could care for me, Miss Maitland ?"

Do

She turned now, and lifted her honest eyes to his face, with a little smile. "Indeed I do think so, Mr. Allardyce."

It was not like the coquettish hardly-won avowals that he used to wring from Christina: it was not the look of mute pathetic devotion, from the very soul-depths, that poor Isie had once given him. But it was a very honest, frank, straightforward avowal; and he felt that she meant it, and that there was a great deal of admiration mingled with the interest she took in him.

"Ye do really mean it, Miss Maitland ?" he said, "I hope -I do hope, indeed, I would be able to make ye happy. It'll no be for want of tryin'. Ye know, I haven't travelled, like yourself I've not much of that polish, maybe, that ye might look for 'fact, I don't pretend to be anything more than what I am-just a farmer's son, ye ken, but if ye can be satisfied with me as I am-"

"Perhaps I may say the same," said Maggie rather archly, "for I'm just a farmer's daughter!"

"Eh yes. And we're both natives of the same part o' the country, I think, though we hadn't met before.

ought to be well suited, eh ?"

I think we ought.

paused.

Then we

But, Mr. Allardyce-" and she

"What were ye sayin', Miss Maitland ?"

"You know, I don't promise anything without consulting my brother. He's my only near friend, you know—and I would not take any important step without asking his sanction first."

"Of course—you must do that. But-will I say it? I've not much fear o' Mr. Maitland-so be as Miss Maitland favours me!"

"No. Alick is always very kind, dear fellow-and I think

he likes you very much, Mr. Allardyce. Eh me!" she suddenly exclaimed, surprised into an unwonted Scotticism, as she looked at her watch; "it's five minutes from three! and they'll be all in the church waiting us."

"They'll just require to wait," said Mr. Allardyce coolly : but they both quickened their steps towards the house, Edmund detaining Miss Maitland for a moment to say, before they emerged from the walk: "Ye're not saying anything about it eynow, Miss Maitland ?”

"Not now? Not if you don't wish." "Not the day-till after I'm away. sels this afternoon, at any rate."

Let's have it to our

'Very well!" The shake of Maggie's curls, as she left him and hurried into the house, reminded him forcibly, just for a moment, of Christina. And then, standing on the door-step alone, for the few minutes, waiting for her, the perception seemed suddenly to fall upon him, of what he had actually done.

He was in for it now-he had, virtually, proposed to Miss Maitland and been accepted. There was no doubt but all would go smoothly here. There would be no dissentient voice raised against their marriage: on the contrary, there would be great rejoicing on both sides. She loved him, poor girl-only too well. He must go on with it. But did he love her?

And

His thoughts went back involuntarily to a scene of long ago-before the date of our story's beginning: a day and an hour when, in that garden at Braehead, he had declared his love to Christina Cameron: had told her, with all the earnestness and intensity of his young devotion, that he loved her, heart and soul, as he could love no other. when her coquettish obstinacy had given way at length before his passionate pleading, and she had allowed that she could return his affection; and they had sealed their compact by a tender reverent kiss, given and received-that first kiss, how he remembered it now, after all those years of wrong and disappointment, and separation bitterer than the separation of death! And for aught he knew she was living now, at this moment living, and, if living, free; yet his own act was to place another, an insurmountable barrier between them. And at that moment an utter revulsion of feeling

came over him: a feeling as if he must go at once to poor innocent, trusting Maggie, and tell her that he hated her, and himself, for proposing to her.

And there was that wearisome singing to be got through somehow! He felt so utterly miserable, so weak and listless and tired, so unable to collect himself to undergo it, that he was fain to turn into the house and ask Mr. Maitland to give him another glass of wine-just to see if it would carry him on.

Poor Maggie was very flushed and nervous-looking when, after her hurried dressing, she climbed the organ-loft again; feeling as if her musical lads and lasses were speculating about her and her precentor, and looking at her with curiosity and amusement. And Edmund was flushed too: perhaps Mr. Maitland's sherry might have been rather more than he could stand. But before the end of the long servicelengthened by Mr. Maitland's slow reading and prosy discourse to an hour and a half good-what with his exertions and the heat and oppressiveness of the ill-ventilated church, (doubly oppressive by the end of the day, and in the gallery), every trace of colour had gone out of his face, and he looked almost as ill and haggard as when he first got up after his fever. He confided to Maggie, as they left the church, that he was a bit tired, and his head was "awfully sore "—it was just with him never being right strong yet.

It only made him more interesting in Miss Maitland's eyes. She was one of those good-hearted creatures who like a man twice as well when he is ill and suffering; and she was only too delighted to take him home and wait upon him and give him tea-with many expressions of concern at his having so much fatigued himself in their behalf. He was not disinclined to accept these delicate attentions. His moods varied very much at times he could not but be sensible of Maggie's real worth and attractiveness, though he shrank inwardly at the thought of that to which he was pledged.

:

Tea being duly discussed, Mr. Maitland, with more hospitality than discretion, had the wine brought in again— Edmund must take something to keep the cold out before starting on his ride home. It might not have been the wisest thing: unaccustomed to stimulants as he was, he had

had quite as much that day, altogether, as he could bear. But since he had been ill, and off duty, he had been obliged to relax his old rule; and every one was always preaching to him that he wanted so much support. So he accepted the offer again assuring Mr. Maitland, when he had finished, with more emphasis than was quite necessary, that when he was well, he never touched anything in the shape of wine or spirits the Rannaside people knew that very well—he never touched it only just now having been in doctor's hands, &c., &c.--but he wound up by saying that he was now quite rested, and quite better, and that he would quite enjoy the ride home-if Mr. Maitland would be so kind as let him order his horse.

It was growing cold and late and dark, and they knew it was no kindness to keep him ; so Mr. Maitland went to order the horse. Left alone for a few moments with Maggie, Edmund plucked up courage to take her by the hand, and then to raise her hand to his lips. "I'm not able to thank you right, Miss Maitland. I don't know what I would say to ye-for being so kind to me—for promising me so much happiness!"

"I don't know," said Maggie, simply. "You have made me very happy.'

"Have I indeed? already? Then I ought to be more than grateful. And whiles I think deeds are better than words," and then he bent forward, just a little, still holding her hand, and kissed her-but not as he had kissed Christina. But poor Maggie stood still, in a trance of glad surprise and blushing pride and pleasure.

Then Mr. Maitland came in to say that the horse was ready: and Edmund went to the door to mount. But he found that Magnet in the sober light of morning and Magnet under the stars were two widely different animals. Magnet was not accustomed to nocturnal expeditions, and the aspect of things in general seemed to him, to say the least, uncanny. He would not come within several yards of the door-step (which did gleam preternaturally white in the dimness), but stood, with his hind feet planted resolutely but awkwardly wide apart, shaking his head and snorting at the terrible mystery. He sidled gradually into the darkest corner, and went round on his fore feet as a pivot when Edmund placed

his foot in the stirrup. But Edmund was not slow in springing into the saddle, and once up, managed to pilot his bashful steed safely out of the gateway; Magnet dropping not a few sudden curtseys to doubtful-looking objects by the

way.

Maggie and her brother watched them out and stood listening to the receding sound of Magnet's feet on the brae for some minutes. And then as they went into the house she turned to him with a sudden impulsive interrogation : "You do like him, don't you, Alick ?”

CHAPTER IV.

WHEN

MAGNET.

HEN Edmund Allardyce reached the foot of the brae on which the parsonage stood, and found himself on the level turnpike, he punished Magnet rather severely.

But Magnet was wise enough to know when his head was turned homewards: and though he protested with sundry deprecatory grunts, and mild demonstrations with his hind legs, against the unreasonable thwacks which Edmund's stout ashen wand bestowed upon his hard flanks, he did not on the whole disapprove of hastening his steps. So between his willingness and his rider's chastisement, the pace very soon reached a rapidity which in a public locality might come under the censure due to "furious riding."

There was no one however to call it in question now; so Magnet and his rider continued their course unchecked, till they came within the march of Fernytofts: when Edmund's steed, recognizing the "bar" of a field where he had been wont to graze, brought his gallop to such a sudden termination thereat as to throw his rider, if not actually over his head, at least so far forward on his neck as obliged him to spring to his feet as nimbly as might be to avoid a more ignominious landing.

I am afraid Edmund was by no means master of himself then. He gave Magnet two or three violent tugs by the