The herald., 1896-05-03

! brightness and love; and behind and be-
| yond, she saw but the blank butt-end
where she must crawl to die. Had she
! then come to the lees? she, SO great. so
beautiful, with heart as fresh as girls
and strong as womanhood? 1t could not
be, and yet it was so; and for moment
her bed was horrible to her as the sides
Of the grave. And she looked forward
over a waste of hours, and saw herself go
on to rage, and tremble, and be softened.
and rage again, until the day came and
the labors Of the day must be renewed.
Suddenly she heard feet on the stairs
his feet, and soon after the sound OF win
dow-sash flung open. She sat up with
her heart beating. He had gone to his
room alone, and he had not gone to bed.
She might again have one OF her night
cracks; and at the enhancing prospect,
change came over her mind; with the ap-
proach OF this hope of pleasure, all the
baser metal became Immediately obliterated
from her thoughts. She rose, all woman,
and all the best of woman, tender, pitiful,
hating the wrong, loyal to her own SEX
and all the weakest of that dear miscella-
ny, nourlshing, cherishins next her soft
heart, voicelossly nattering, hopes that
she would have Cied sooner than have ac-
knowledged. She tore off her nightcap and
her hair fell about her shoulders in profu-
son Undying coquetry awoke. BY the
faint light of her nocturnal rush, she stood
before the looki1g-glass, carried her shape
arms above her head, and gathered up the
treasures of her tresscs She was never
backward to admire herself; that Kind OF
modesty was stranger to her nature; and
sEo paused, struck with pleased wonder
at the sight aye DAT. aud wife," she
said answering a thought that was not;
and she blushed witch the innocent consci-
BUSINESS OF a child Hastily she did up tie
massive and shining coils. hastily dGnned
wrapper, and with the rush-ligh. il her
hand, stole into the hall. Be.ow s airs she
heard the clock ticking the deliberate sec
onds, ard Frank jingling with the decan'-
ers IN the diaing-roo-n. Aversion rose in
her. bitter and monetary. "Nessy, tip
plirg puggy!' she thought; and The next
moment she had knocked guardedy at
Archie's door and was bidden enter.
Archie had been looking ou. into the
ancient blackness, pierced here and there
with ray,ess star; taking the sweet ar
of the moors and the night into his bosom
deeply seeking, perhaps finding, peace af-
ter the manner OF the unhappy. He turn
ed round as she came in, and showed her
a pale face against the window-frame.
| .'Is that you Kirstie?" he asked. Come
| inw
"It's unco late, my DEAR" said Kirstie,
| affecting unwillingnesS.
| mo, no. he answered, mot at all.
Come in, II you want crack. l am not
sleepy God knows!'
She advanced, took a chair by the toilet
table and the candle, and set the rush
light at her foot. Somethng-t might be
in the comparative disorder OF her dress 1t
might be the emotion that now welled in
her bosom-had touched her with wand
of transformation, and she seemed young
with the youth of goddesses.
"Mr Erchie," she began. whats this
that's come to ye?"
Il am not aware of anything that has
come said Archie, and blushed, and re-
pented bitterly that he had let her in.
"Oh, my dear, that'll no dae!' said KRIS
tie. "It's ill to blend the eyes Of love. Oh,
Mr.. Erchie, TAX thoct ere it's over late.
Ye shouldnae be impatient O. the Draws O.
life, they'll a. come in their saison, like
the sun and the rain. Ye're young yet;
ye've mony cantle years afore ye. See and
dinnae wreck yersel at the outset like sac
mony ithers! Hae patience-they telled
me aye tha' was the overcome O. life-hae
patience there's a Draw day coming yet.
| GUIDE kens it never cam to me; and here
! am WI nayther man nor BARN to ca my
ain, wearying a. folks wi my ill tongue,
/ and you just the first Mr.. Erchie!'
Il have difficulty in knowing what you
mean" said Archie
"Weel, and I'll tell ye," she said. "It's
| Just this, that I'm feared. I'm feared for
ye, my dear. Remember, your father is a
| hard man, reaping where he hasnae sowed
| and gathering where he hasnae strawed.
| It's easy speakin', but mind! Yell have
| to look in the CURLY face ON, where it's
| i'll to look, and vain to look for mercy. Ye
| mind me O. bonny ship pitten oot into the
| black and gowsty seas-ye're a safe still,
| sittin' quait and crackin wi Kirstie in
| your lown chalmer; but whaur will ye be
| the morn, and in whatten horror O. the
| fearsome tempest, cryin' on the hills to
| cover ye?"
why, Kirstie, you're very enigmatical
| the highland very eloquent" Archie put
| in.
! "And, my dear Mr.. Erchie," she continu-
| ed, with change Of voice, we maunae think
| that cannae sympathize wi ye. Ye maun-
| ae think that l havense been young my
| sell. Langsyne, when l was bit lassie,
no twenty yet" She paused and sigh
ed. "Clean and caller, WI fit like the
| Kinney bee,' she continued. II was aye
big and buirdly. ye maun understand; a
bonny figure O. a woman, though I say it
that suldnae-built to rear bairns-braw
BARNS they suld hae been, and grand
| would hae likit it! But was young, dear,
wi the bonny CLINT O. youth in my cen,
and little I dreamed I'd ever be tellin ye
this, an aud. lanely, rudas wife! Weel,
Mr.. Erchie, there was lad cam courtin'
me, as was but naetural Mony had come
BEFORE and would name O. them. But this
| yin had tongue to vile the birds frae the
| lift and the bees frae the foXglove bells.
Deary me, but it's lang syne. Folk have
deed sinsyne and been buried, and are for
gotten, and BARNS been born and got mer-
| rit and got BARNS O. their ain. Sinsyne
| woods have been plantit, and have grawn up
and are bonny trees, and the joes sit in
their shadow, and sinsyne auld estates
| have changed hands, and there have been
wars and rumors of wars on the face of the
earth. And here I'm still-like an auld
droopit craw-loolsin' on and craikin! But
Mr.. Erchie, do ye no think that I have
| mind O. 1t a. still? I was dwalling then
in my fathers house; and it's a curious
| thing that we We're whiies trysted in the
Deils Hays. And do ye no think that
| have mind of the bonny simmer iavs the