The record-union., 1894-10-20

UrleQ aulu cnlp? Dld ye'r9 ane mudder
warrit yer heart still. tell ye gaep in t.
sec fate, mudder?"
The mother was silenced by this impet-
uous pleading, but the father spoke up
sternly and al once
"lf yer gram mudder had tow'd her do
this or yam she'd done it, Betty Bam-
thet. She'd ne'er haddered out her poor
auld leefr'
'W hat dost ee mean, fadder?" retorted
the girl Indignantly.
Jaw mean ere layin' a beadIess curse
on us a. trae yer poapish ways. Who's
standIn' atween our maxim tn three
| gradley pleaces ain-nabuddy'll claim t.
lther. an we'll get it for a sang!-but
| yerseP? Lass, lass!" he continued plead
ingly, "if ye'd only tax auld Matt afore
&c drappit oaf! Ee'll swat DOT like a
rush leet i th' weend. Betty, Betty!
Think over it; there's sonsy lass. We'd
/ ha' a. th' daal atween US thenn'
"Ay, Betty dear, think over it-thin1
over it," came wheedlingly from the
! mother.
| There was a little silence now. Then 1
| heard few firm steps moving toward the
| Iather, and following these came caress-
| ing sounds. L could not see the girl, but
L now knew she was standing beside MIN
/ strokIng his face and head softly. Then
| she spoke TO him almost tenderly.
| Iheer, theer, faddor. Gle me a wee
bit time. Pll nae snabe (hout) auld Matt
malr. Gle me four weeks, o'ny four
weeks, ladder. Then-if nabuddy cooms,
| tadder-pll tax auld Matt, skin, banes,
powe, barrow-back an a.? Ye can gle
me four weeks, 1adder?''
"Ay, Betty. four weeks; ma mair miud,
! Betty. An Well ha' Lh' three gradley
! pleaces ain!'
"Lans marcyw chimed in the mother
| Joyously. Wen ha' Matt an Betty
| I'm,
| frien'sv'
1t was easy to know that the tottering
old man VINO had cursed the deserted
! cottage as he passed it was Matt Curbi-
| son; that the father and mother, taking
| no account OF the most sacred longings OF
| the human heart, had for years endeav-
| ored to Wean the daughter from some
| lIIlated attachment; that their own Sordid
| natures were solely set on adding to their
| mountain acres, and that the lass had
| made last weak and pitiful shift to
| gam time and peace for the almost
| hopeless hope to which her heart still
clung.
| 1t was strange. sad pastoral drama
| which had been partially revealed to me,
L thought, before | had set eyes on sim
| gle participants face. And | wondered
! way change its dolOrous course for its
thus far unheeded victim.
| With these feelings and reflections
! strong upon me presented myself at Da-
vid Bamthet's home and met with the
/ same hospitable welcome which is ever
any honest travellers within these glori-
| GUS mountain wilds.
Mother and daughter after the first
| greeting disappeared TO prepare the mid =
! day meal, and David Bamthet taking a
| huge horn from above his wide low door
! bIowed upon it sturdy blast which soon
| brought to the cottage few servants
| ana helpers from the adjacent hills and
! fields.
neither disclosed my true character
| nor my iuu name. for l was still sore
| upon the subject of my triting legacy.
simply told them / was student ram
| bling for little among the lake country
mountains, i'll love with their people and
! their ways. l had money to pay for all
| favors asked, and for the present plain
| MIR. Robert would answer for my name.
10 these simple souls it mattered not
what L had come for, nor how long l
| might remain; and as my host conducted
| me TO my room and showed me with pride
| his ancient dwelling, l found myself re-
! peatedly studying his imposing figure
and typical Um mbrian face.
! lie was more than six feet in hight, and
| as he moved about the large, low rooms
| his head just escaped the huge oaken
! beams of the ceiling. His hair was soft,
| silken and bOuntiful, haXen where the
| silver had not yet come. and with his
full, fine beard it suggested a strain of
the old Morse blood. His forehead was
! high, wide white. His eyebrows were
| bushy, but fine and tiossy, above large
| eyes of lustrous light blue, deep set.
| steady and almost mournful in their gaze.
he nose was strongly cut, truly classic,
| and the mouth was large, but character
| full and firm.
! This sort of head set upon huge and
| perfect frame, stout rs the timbers of his
| centuries-old habitation, gave it's owner,
| who looked straight at you and made
| you, despite yourself, look straight at
! him in return, a strange seeming OF dom
| nance and power, and l remember that
| the thought flashed over me then: What
u struggle two such men as David Balu-
thet and Porter Bob, locked in deadly
| embrace, would make.
l SAW little of Betty that day, but the
| few glimpses l caught revealed a remark
able figure and face. l was struck with
her splendid stature and a certain man
ner of movement, full of physical fire and
| force, which betokened tremendous latent
energies.
All this was no less impressive than
her face. 1t was the image of her fathers,
| tirmer and finer nodded in the lines of a
WOman'S perfect cOuntenance Had it
I
| have been almost divinely radiant. Had
! 1t not been peasant woman's face, q
/ sculptor would have chosen it to show
the placid sweetness and calmness OF
! Niobe and tell the illimitable heroic gran
| deur of Zenobia.
! Form and face stirred me as l had
never before been impressed by woman.
not once with the emotions of love, but
| by an IneXpressible compassion ever
| commingled with something akin to
awe.
/ cannot now tell how we'll 1 concealed
! these emotions. For the time they swept
all else-my calling, my friends, my fu-
! ture, even the petty inheritance which
| had covertly brought me to the Um-
/ brian pletely out of my exist
! ence.
! If there be any manner of hypnotism
| so subtle that Swayer and swayed are un-
! lntential and unconscious of It's exercise
and influence, and yet which holds the
| subject IN gossamer bonds, as firm as
| steel, this innocent maiden was that un-
conscious master, and l as unconsciously
| her other self.
| Like two children we roamed among
| the gorges and the glens, climbed the
! glddy scars and pixies, loitered by lakes
and streams, penetrated unknown cav
erns, rested beside thunderous water
! falls, clam bered along the slippery sides
| of tumultuous forces and ghylls, raced
| among the heather of the cloud-kissed
| nights, or saw the red sun sink in his
| flaming pillows beyond the purpiing
| peaks within the Irish Sea, Needless of
| hour or time or weather, while the Um-