Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-11-16

a more ancient race than the Stewarts-the
Stewards merely deriving their name from
the Office they held, whereas the Bethunes
had their name from their territories. I
shouldn't wonder if he claimed to be de-
scended from Macbeth, King of Scotland.
Oh, he holds his head high, the old scoundrel
that has stole bonny Glenlyon awav.' But
you'll be even with him yet; you'll be even
with him vet. Why, if he comes in to-
night, and finds ye sitting here, he'll be as
astonished as Maclean of Quart was at In
verary, when he looked up from the banquet
and saw his vile at the door,"
50 Vincent had perforce to wait in vague
expectancy; but nevertheless the proceed
ings of the evening interested him not
little, and all the more that he happened to
know two of the principal speakers. For to
MIR. Iom MacVittie was intrusted the toast
of the evening-'"The Immortal Memory of
Robert Burns''-and very eloquently in
deed did the big merchant deal with that
well-worn theme. What the subject lacked
in novelty was simply made up bv the
splendid enthusiasm of his audience; the
most familiar 9uotations-rolled out with
MacVittie's breadth OF accent and strong
north-country burr-were welcome as the
songs OF Zion sung in strange land; this
was the magic speech that could stir their
hearts, and raise visions of their far-off and
beloved native home. Nor were they at all
laudatores temporis acti--these perfervid
rose to propose the toast that had
been allotted to him-"The Living
Bards of Scotland''-cheer after cheer
greeted names of which Vincent, in his
Southern ignorance, had never even heard.
Indeed, to this stranger, it seemed as if the
Scotland of our own day must be simply
alive with poets, and not of the pretentious
kind that proclaimed at Paisley "They
sterve US while we're leevin, and raise moni-
ments to US when we're deed;" but OF a
quiet, modest and honest character, dealing
for the most part with simple domestic sub
jects, occasionally humorous, more fire.
quently exhibiting a sincere and effective
pathos. For, of course, the croup1er justi-
fed himself with numerous excerpts; and
there was no stint to the applause of this
warm-blooded audience; insomuch that
Vincent's idle fancies went wandering away
to those Ito him) little known minstrels in
the old land with kind of wish that they
could be made aware how they were re-
garded across the sea. Nay, when the
croupier concluded his speech, coupling
with this toast" whole string of names, the
young man, carried away by the prevailing
ardour, said
"Mr. Anstruther, surely nothing will do
justice to this toast but drop Of whisky"
and the Croupier. passing him the de-
canter, said in reply
"Surely-surely-on an evening like this;
and yet I'm bound to say that if it had not
been for the whisky, my list of living Scotch
poets would have been longer"
The evening passed; and Vincent's hopes.
that had been too lightly and easily raised,
were slowly dwindling. Had George
Bethune been in New York, or within any
reasonable distance of it, he would almost
certainly have come to this celebration at
which several Of his old friends were assem-
bled. As Vincent walked home that night
to his hotel, the world seemed dark and
wide; and he felt strangely alone. He
knew not which way to turn now. For one
thing, he was not at all convinced, as Hugh
Anstruther appeared to be, that it was Mr..
Bethune who had taken his granddaughter
away, and that, sooner or later, he would
turn up at one OF other of those transat-
lantic gatherings of his Scotch friends.
Vincent could not forget Maisrie's last fare
well; and ii this separation were of her plan
ming and executing, then there was lar less
chance of encounterlng them in any such
haphazard fashion. 1T is goodbye for ever
between you and me, "she had written. And
of what avail now were her wild words
"Vineent 1 love you'll love youl-you are
10y dearest in all the world! You will
remember, always and always, whenever
you think of me, that this is SO: you will
not forget: remember that 1 love YOU
always, and am thinking of you'll" idle
phrases, that the winds had blown away! OF
what use were they now? Nay, why should
he believe them, any more than the pretty
professions that Mrs. de Lara had made OF,
board the steamer? Were they not both
women, those two? And then he drew back
with scorn of himself; and rebuked the living
Satan that seemed to walk by his side.
Solitariness-wounded pride-disappoint-