Year: 1878

had gone to bed late, and, as usual, had
left my window open, watching as long as
could n most unusual sunset when / was
awakened by a noise that in my half dreamy
state seemed rs though the sea had burst its
bonds and was rushing over everything.
never remember seeing such heavy rain. 1t
came down in torrents, bending down the
heads of the sturdiest flowers in the little gar
den below my window, and washing all the
gravel OFF the sloping wnlks. Thunder rever-
berated round the hills, and vivid flashes of
lightning shot across the sky. thunder
storm is never so magnificent among
mountains; and the echoes, repeated again
and again till they died away in the distance,
seemed almost continuous. 1t lasted long
Peal after peal succeeded each other; the
birds, frightened and bewildered, flew from
branch to branch to seek the smallest shelter,
aud sent forth melancholy chirps, as though
to reassure themselves.


BY breakfast-time the rain had moderated
and the thunderstorm was over. and l went
out to enjoy the well-known pleasantness of
the air after it, and to notice the damage my
poor flowers had sustained As l stood there
l saw figure hurrying toward me, with
plaid thrown over her head. 1t was Jean.
She was looking white, and spoke in quick
and agitated way. Mrs. Grant was i'll and
would like much to see me. She had news
and | saw that the news, whatever it was had
affected Jean equally. In few minutes 1
was ready, and we walked the shortest way to
Burnside. As we came near the cottage, Jean
said in a low voice, Kenneth is married
he is coming home = and, leaving my side, l
entered alone Whittier than usual Mrs. Grant
could hardly look but there was great dis
tress in her keen blue eyes, and in the help
less, beseeching way in which she stretched
out her hands.


Tell Jean she must stay" were almost her
first words and it then at once occurred to
me that this coming home might bring about
painful complications and that if Kenneth
had forgotten, Jean still loved


Kenneth's marriage had been surprise,
but when Mrs Grant put his letter into my
hands, and begged me to read it, l quite un-
derstood the pain it must have caused her.
He wrote in asad and desponding way-was
evidently sorry for his young wife-found it
impossible to remain there, surrounded by her
relations-began several times to send mes
sage to Jean. carefully scratching out what he
had begun and finally leaving all unsaid, he
ended by hoping his grandmother would be
kind, and make allowances. 1t was q letter
written in such evidently low spirits, and the
want of happiness was so painfully manifest,
that it was quite sad to read


sat long, and talked with the old woman.
She told me Jean never would listen to Ken
meth but even she did not know why. She
was sure she liked him. She thought some
one had made mischief. Altogether it was II
comfort to her to talk it over with me /; and
though felt utterly incapable of giving ad-
vice, once the reserve she usually showed was
broken into, she opened up to me more of her
own thoughts and feelings than l had ever
yet seen-and the confidence comforted her


went down by the burn side, intending to
e., l,f ctp1nfa1 xybpn | lnr
sitting. her face buried in her hands. As she
heard my footsteps, she raised herself up.
She had so sad, so despairing look, that
felt l could not speak to her just then. Her
lips parted and, raising her eyes, she muir
INJURED. so low that could hardly catch the
words, "A day will come when we will know
the reason of ALL" and went slowly up the
bank, her head dropping and her hands clasp
ed together, as though endeavoring to sup
press her excitement


When arrived at home found telegram
summoning me south. The dearest friend
possessed had been severely injured in n rail-
way accident and within few hours l was
going to him, my thoughts 100 fully occupied
to think of Burnside.





Winter had come early. Storms had al
ready caused havoc among the shipping and
brought distress to many home. | was
plodding my way through the daily cares and
troubles of my large parish when | one day
received letter from Jean, reminding me of
promise had made her of doing her fa-
vor, and entreating me to get her place,
ever so humble, it did not matter


Her letter distressed me. 1t was written in
such evident sorrow-not Il word of Kenneth
and his wife, and of Mrs. Grant only that she
was much the same.


Perpexed by her letter still had ii before
me when / heard a hustle in the little hall
and my friend Mr., Macrae, the minister of the
beautiful parish where l had spent those we'll
remembered Summer months, stood before
me, his coat sprinkled with snow, his color
raised by the frosty air, and look of quiet
happiness that told me at once his long en-
gagement was drawing to an end. He had
come to try and persuade me TO take his duty
for one fortnight, and was delighted TO find
small persuasion needed.


Two days more saw me ON my way. Not
long after | started n most violent snow-storm
set in. So long rs we were in the railway our
progress was pretty good but with some
thing like forty miles of coaching through the
widest scenery, and over road that divided
tremendous hills, it became work of the
greatest difficulty. Gangs of men had to ac-
, company us, and every now and then We were
Obliged to get out and allow the coach to be
cut out of the drifts. When night came we
had to spend it in a miserable little inn, where
the peRt-smoke, having no proper outlet,
made the air of the room nearly intolerable (;
and the only provisions were oat-cake, very
hard cheese, and whisky. As this last was a
thing never touched was delighted to find
that spring of clear water rose near the
house, and that, though surrounded by icicles,
it was obtainable.


Next morning We pushed on, to find, as is
often the case near the sea- that the snow had