Morning journal and courier., 1894-01-27
sbbsd until IT faded in languorous death

ebbed until II faded In languorous death
in blue, and purple and ghostly mist.
To the west were strath and mountain
views more glorious still. From the north
/ . Wild torrent poured out Of Glen Oan-
nsch through . gorge 20 deep and vast
that even the roaring of the waters was
| muMed and still. Thousands of feet
above doomed grand Knockhn. Its summit
gtrdled with castle-like walls of stone.
Beyond, uplsnds rose and rolled In match
less valley sscents to lone Glen Affrick's
| wilds.
Ear In the north Ben wyvis, giant mon
arch of the region, thrust Its grilzled cone
above statsly mountain piles. Nam Suil,
while the whole far horizon beyond,
pierced by hundreds of grim old peaks
| wreathed in endless bands and wings of
| mist, seemed like come vast archipelago of
massive orags endlsssly beaten by the
| spume of Numbering seas.
Glittering peak, blanched cliff and
threatening precipice, burst through the
heather and sea green copse. Away among
| the heights the eagle wheeled above the
| companionship In Its solitudee. Tumblng
burns quivered aud flashed, or showed
cascades like hscks of lace from within
the shadows. And over all songs of rivu-
let, burn aud river, over covert, copse and
glen, over islet, bog and tarn, flooded the
September sunshine, painting for the ar
tist and the lassie there, the whole tran
scsndent scene In unfounded dyes.
The artist turned from the vondrous
panorama 40 If almost despsring of trans
ferring its essr-shsngiag sssmsngs and
huss 10 canvas, and shaking his head ssd-
ly, said gravely to the girl:
stJoan Il am afraid VIA ran nersr do tttu
The word Eve" tent the blood into her
face grsudly.
"Gln yau mi.doubts theIrsels-"
Don't say 'giu,' Joan. Say ft "a
| stead"
"Gif-"
"There, there. Joan. Remember 'siF
10 worse than GIN"
81 ken ns ithen way, when / speyk cot
my hearts thochts, Meester Ritchie,p she
replied. bridling up little. "Ablins, eef
yan misdoubts the,rsel, they're Already
half whippit- TIL Laird hs' gie'n ye
mlchty geefts, Hugh. DinnA Hyte 4 His
face VII sic chirmins an baelins- Pit 6
stoot heart tae sty brse, an tn wArk's a.
bit dim"
"Trus enough, Joan; true enough.
Upon my honor, believe you could paint
Strathglsss yourself. / oould, too, IL i
could have you with me all the time"
fe can Ia me, an ye wnhl
She said IL an impassivsly rs she would
have esid IL was about 60 rain, the river
was low. or that she heard her old father,
by adoption, singing . Gaelic song Of war
down there in his half cottage, half store,
by the roadside beneath them
"But what Of my art, of London, Of
fame, Joanf' he said IL fairly, like an
honest man that he was, naming his own
strength and weakness without stint
aye Gamma hs' .. Hugh Richie. wull
bids 7 StrathglAss."
"Blsss you for noble girl, Joan. II
can put this valley on canvas. and 1 will
I'll be free of poyerty's clutches forever.
Then" he continued. grasping her hands.
heartily, "rIl be back here 10 q j.fy, buy
Dsvy Saunders little croft for you and j,
and we'll let the great folk"-this with an
impatient motion of his head toward tur-
reted Guesaohan At the edge of Glen Can
nach-"London and all the world go TO
the den together!"
He was about to follow his impetuous
speech with As impetuous an embrace. but
Joan gently kept him At distance, answer
Ing quietly with eyes and speech;
INA, ns; when tn mIchty paintin' e
din, yen ne'sr COON back"
He read there In her eyes and words
such clear truths of and such keen insight
into mems natures that It startled him
he recalled her simple life and mysterious
history, as they had come TO him little by
little from the crotters and gsmekeepers
roundabout; how. when but thy, wall
ing babe, twenty years bsfore, she had
been left one night at Davy Saunders
door; how the erufter aud his guidwife,
being sore in heart for their own bonnie
lsssie who had year or two before been
spirited away by some huntsmAn noble
man never to be heard from again, had
given the wsif their own bsirn's name and
place 10 heart and home; how abe had
grown from babe to BARN, from bsirn to
lsssie, from lsssie to lass and on to vo-
manhood, beloved In sll the valley crofts,
the pride of the minister and wife who
taught her in the mossy nance below the
cliff, hard by this ancient chuIch and
bridge of Fssnakyle, ths peasant pet and
fsvorite at Guesschsn, until she Rad be-
come his almost iusepsrsble companion;
but ever true and strong, and free of heart
until art had come with love to grand
Strathglass.
All this he remembered, and with 1t his
own often hslf-formsd conviction that,
could the truth bs known, somewhere be-
hind this wild-hower orofter life Was
strain of blood which. "a these things are
counted in the heredity of besst and hu-
man. would make her the equal of any; for
intellect, pride and true nobility were In
every movement of her graceful form. In
every quiet, we'll considered act of her life,
| In every tone and thought she uttered, and
shone forth almost msjestic In the lumi-
nous calm of her splendid eyes of gray
"Come here, JOAN" be said at last, lead
/ ing her to the mossy rock from which the
/ hundreds of valley sketches had been made
i in all the pleasant Summer days, 81 have
/ something curious TO tell you about my
self"
"Wsll, You see, am an orphan, too,
/ Just like yourself, joan"
| "GuidI" said Joan. complscently.
al never had half crown of my own In
all my life"
81 just 'growed up lIke Topsy. You
never heard of dsrky ToPsy. JosnF"
"Ns. ne; bit gang on wi rh' tsls."
al was g 'mindsr,' put ont to be cared
for In London, Joan Ny father, q R1ss
shire barrister, hsd been driven out of the
north here for his lingering love of Primes
Charlie. He went to London aud starved
and died. Then the mothers life light wa.
soon dimmed, and she followed him,
Then the parish besdle tossed Hugt
Ritchie into an orphan asylum"
"Guid, guid, guidl" interrupted Joan,
joyously.
"And why so very good when sll 81
very cad, Joanr'
"Ablins, ilks guid mon that rIsss oot o
ssir beckIin' an d1uer, msun dow an
thrivel"
"Well," continued the artist, smiling st
the happy prophecy, "tbere 1 learned tc
draw q little, and by and by the curste ol
the asylum took me into his own tcAnty
home and helped me along very kindly
Some one saw my poor little sketches and
sent me TO Rogby; and there got on q
well with the lsds that one hue, lazy fel
low took me with him to London; put me
into little studio in High Holborn, with
three years' rent paid; clspped me on th'
shoulder. brsvsly, with, Now win o.
stsrver and went away"
"An' We did ns stsrvti" Joan insisted
rspturously.
! "well. not exactly. But am afraid
would have starved, Joan. only for tn
queerest old lady you ever saw In all you
life-Lsdy Msc Tsvitt. whom we expec
at the lodge this very day.
"The dear old lady is an odd picture
Joan She is taller than your foster-tath
! er, Dsvy Saunders; uglier than Sand.
Nichols your Sighting, stone mason neigh
Dor, across the way; scrsggisr than thi