A PRINCESS OF THULE 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACK 
 
 AUTHOR OF "A DAUGHTER OF HETH,"' " STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON, 
 " MADCAP VIOLET," ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 INTERNATIONAL BOOK COMPANY 
 
 310-318 SIXTH AVENUE 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 By WILLIAM BLACK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 "LOCHABER NO MORE." 
 
 ON a small headland of the distant island of Lewis, an old 
 man stood looking out on a desolate waste of rain-beaten sea. 
 It was a wild and wet day. From out of the lowering South- 
 west fierce gusts of wind were driving up volumes and flying 
 rags of clouds, and sweeping onward at the same time tne 
 gathering waves that fell hissing and thundering on the 
 shore. Far as the eye could reach, the sea and the air and 
 the sky seemed to be one indistinguishable mass of whining 
 and hurrying vapor, as if beyond this point there were no 
 more land, but only wind and water, and the confused and 
 awful voice of their strife. 
 
 The short, thick-set, powerfully-built man who stood on 
 this solitary point paid little attention to the rain that ran off 
 the peak of his sailor's cap, or to the gusts of wind that blew 
 about his bushy gray beard. He was still following, with an 
 eye accustomed to pick out objects far at sea, one speck of 
 purple that was now fading into the gray mist of the rain; 
 and the longer he looked the less it became, until the mingled 
 sea and sky showed only the smoke that the great steamer 
 left in its wake. As he stood there, motionless and regard' 
 
2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 -less of everything around him, did he cling to the fancy that 
 he could still trace out the path of the vanished ship ? A 
 little while before it had passed almost close to him. He 
 had watched it steam out of Stornoway Harbor. As the 
 sound of the engines came nearer and the big boat went by, 
 so that he could have almost called to it, there was no sign of 
 emotion on the hard and stern face, except, perhaps, that the 
 lips were held firm and a sort of frown appeared over the eyes. 
 He saw a tiny white handkerchief being waved to him from 
 the deck of the vessel; and he said, almost as though he 
 were addressing some one there : 
 
 "My good little girl!" 
 
 But in the midst of that roaring of the sea and the wind 
 how could any such message be delivered ? And already the 
 steamer was av/ay from the land, standing out to the lonely 
 plain of waters, and the sound of the engines had ceased, 
 and the figures on the deck had grown faint and visionary. 
 But still there was that one speck of white visible; and the 
 man knew that a pair of eyes that had many a time looked 
 into his own as if with a faith that such intercommunion 
 could never be broken were now trying, through overflow- 
 ing and blinding tears, to send him a last look of farewell. 
 
 The gray mists of the rain gathered within their folds the 
 big vessel and all the beating hearts it contained, and the 
 fluttering of that little token disappeared with it. All that 
 remained was the sea, whitened by the rushing of the wind 
 and the thunder of waves on the beach. The man, who had 
 been gazing so long down into the Southeast, turned his face 
 landward and set out to walk over a tract of wet grass and 
 sand toward a road that ran near by. There was a large 
 wagonette of varnished oak and a pair of small powerful 
 horses waiting for him there; and having dismissed the boy 
 who had been in charge, he took the reins and got up. But 
 even yet the fascination of the sea and of that sad farewell 
 was upon him, and he turned once more, as if, now that 
 sight could yield him no further tidings, he would send her 
 one more word of good-by. "My poor little Sheila !" That 
 was all he said; and then he turned to the horses and sent 
 them on, with his head down to escape the rain, and a look 
 on his face like that of a dead man. 
 
 As he drove through the town of Stornoway the children 
 playing within the shelter of the cottage doors called to each 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 3 
 
 other in ^iiisper and said : " That is the King of Borva." 
 But the elderly people said to each other, with a shake of 
 the head, "It iss a bad day, this day, for Mr. Mackenzie, 
 that he will be going home to an empty house. And it will 
 be a ferry bad thing for the poor folk of Borva, and they 
 will know a great difference, now that Miss Sheila iss gone 
 away, and there is nobody not anybody at all left in the 
 island to tek the side of the poor folk." 
 
 He looked neither to the right nor to the left, though he 
 was known to many of the people, as he drove away from 
 the town into the heart of the lonely and desolate land. The 
 wind had so far died down, and the rain had considerably 
 lessened, but the gloom of the sky was deepened by the 
 drawing on of the afternoon, and lay heavily over the dreary 
 wastes of moor and hill. What a wild and dismal country 
 was this which lay before and all around him, now that 
 the last traces of human occupation were passed ! There 
 was not a cottage, not a stone wall, not a fence, to break the 
 monotony of the long undulations of moorland, which in 
 the distance rose into a series of hills that were black under 
 the darkened sky. Down from those mountains ages ago, 
 glaciers had slowly crept to eat out hollows in the plains below; 
 and now in those hollows were lonely lakes, with not a tree 
 to break the line of their melancholy shores. Everywhere 
 around were the traces of this glacier drift great gray boul- 
 ders of gneiss fixed fast into the black peat moss, or set 
 amid the browns and greens of the heather. The only sound 
 to be heard in this wilderness of rock and morass was the 
 rushing of various streams, rain-swollen and turbid, that 
 plunged down their narrow Channels to the sea. 
 
 The rain now ceased altogether, but the mountains in the 
 far south had grown still darker, and to the fishermen passing 
 by the coast it must have seemed as though the black peaks 
 were holding converse with the lowering clouds, and that the 
 silent moorland beneath was waiting for the first roll of the 
 thunder. The man who was driving along this lonely route 
 sometimes cast a glance down toward this threatening of a 
 storm, but he paid little heed to it. The reins lay loose on 
 the backs of the horses, and at their own pace they followed, 
 hour after hour, the rising and falling road that led through 
 the moorland and past the gloomy lakes. He may have 
 recalled mechanically the names of those stretches of water 
 
4 A PRINCESS OF 
 
 The Lake of the Shelling, the Lake of the Oars, the Lake 
 of the Fine Sand, and so forth to measure the distance he 
 had traversed; but he seemed to pay little attention to the 
 objects around him, and it was with a glance of something 
 like surprise, that he suddenly found himself overlooking that 
 great sea-loch on the western side of the island in which was 
 his home. 
 
 He drove down the hill to the solitary little inn of Gara- 
 na-hina. At the door, muffled up in a warm woolen plaid, 
 stood a young girl, fair-haired, blue-eyed, and diffident in 
 look. 
 
 "Mr. Mackenzie," she said, with that peculiar and pleasant 
 intonation that marks the speech of the Hebridean who has 
 been taught English in the schools, " it was Miss Sheila 
 wrote to me to Suainabost, and she said I might come down 
 from Suainabost and see if I can be of any help to you in the 
 house." 
 
 The girl was crying, although the blue eyes looked bravely 
 through the tears as if to disprove the fact. 
 
 " Ay, my good lass," he said, putting his hand gently on 
 her head, "and it wass Sheila wrote to you?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, and I hef come down from Suainabost." 
 
 "It is a lonely house you will be going to," he said, ab- 
 sently. 
 
 " But Miss Sheila said I wass I wass to " But here 
 the young girl failed in her effort to explain that Miss Sheila 
 had asked her to go down to make the house less lonely. 
 The elderly man in the wagonette seemed scarcely to notice 
 that she was crying; he bade her come up beside him; and 
 when he had got her into the wagonette he left some message 
 with the innkeeper, who had come to the door, and drove 
 off again. 
 
 They drove along the high land that overlooks a portion 
 of Loch Roag, with its wonderful network of islands and 
 straits, and then they stopped on the lofty plateau of Caller- 
 nish, where there was a man waiting to take the wagonette 
 and horses. 
 
 "And you would be seeing Miss Sheila away, sir?" said 
 the man; " and it was Duncan Macdonald will say that she 
 will not come back no more to Borva." 
 
 The old man with the big gray beard only frowned and 
 passed on. He and the girl made their way down the side 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. } 
 
 of the rocky hill to the shore, and here there was an open 
 boat awaiting them. When they approached, a man con- 
 siderably over six feet in height, keen-faced, gray-eyed, 
 straight-limbed and sinewy in frame, jumped into the big and 
 rough boat and began to get ready for their departure. 
 There was just enough wind to catch the brown mainsail, 
 and the King of Borva took the tiller, his henchman sitting 
 down by the mast. And no sooner had they left the shore 
 and stood out towards one of the channels of this arm of the 
 sea, than the tall, spare keeper began to talk of that which 
 made his master's eye grow dark. " Ah, well," he said, in 
 the plaintive drawling of his race, "and it iss an empty 
 house you will be going to, Mr. Mackenzie; and it iss a bad 
 thing for us all that Miss Sheila hass gone away; and it iss 
 many's ta time she will 'hef been wiss me in this very 
 boat " 
 
 " you, Duncan Macdonald!" cried Mackenzie, 
 
 in an access of fury, " what will you talk of like that ? It iss 
 every man, woman and child on the island will talk of 
 nothing but Sheila! I will drive my foot through the bot- 
 tom of the boat if you do not hold your peace!" 
 
 The tall gillie patiently waited until his master had ex- 
 hausted his passion, and then he said, as- if nothing had 
 occurred: "And it will not do much good, Mr. Mackenzie, 
 to tek ta name o' God in vain; and there will be much more 
 of trinking in ta island, and it will be a great difference mir- 
 over. And she will be so far away that no one will see her 
 no more far away beyond ta sound of Sleat, and far away 
 beyond Oban, as I hef heard people say. And what will she 
 do in London, when she has no boat at all, and she will 
 never go out to ta fishing ? And I will hear people say that you 
 will walk a whole day and never come to ta sea, and what 
 will Miss Shelia do for that ? And she will tame no more o' 
 ta wild ducks' young things, and she will find out no more o' 
 ta nests in the rocks, and she will hef no more horns when the 
 deer is killed, and she will go out no more to see ta cattle 
 swim across Loch Roag when they go to ta sheilings. It will 
 be all different, all different, now; and she will never see us 
 no more. And it iss as bad as if you was a poor man, Mr. 
 Mackenzie, and had to let your sons and your daughters go 
 away to America, and never come back no more. And she 
 ta only one in your house ! And it wass the son of Mr. Mac* 
 
6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 intyre, of Sutherland, he would have married her, and come 
 to live on ta island, and not have Miss Sheila go away among 
 strangers that doesna ken her family, and will put no store by 
 her, no more than if she was a fisherman's lass. It wass Miss 
 Sheila herself had a sore heart tis morning when she went 
 away; and she turned and she looked at Borva as the boat 
 came away, and I said, ' Tis iss the last time Miss Sheila will 
 be in her boat, and she will not come no more again to 
 Borva." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie heard not one word or syllable of all this. 
 The dead, passionless look had fallen over the powerful 
 features, and the deep-set eyes were gaz'ng, not on the actual 
 Loch Roag before them, but on a stormy sea that lies be- 
 tween Lewis and Skye, and on a vessel disappearing in the 
 midst of the rain. It was by a sort of instinct that he guided 
 this open boat through the channels, which were now getting 
 broader as they neared the sea, and the tall and grave-faced 
 keeper might have kept up his garrulous talk for hours with- 
 out attracting a look or a word. 
 
 It was now the dusk of the evening, and wild and strange 
 indeed was the scene around the solitary boat as it slowly 
 moved along. Large islands so large that any one of them 
 might have been mistaken for the mainland lay over the 
 dark waters of the sea, remote, untena.ited and silent. There 
 were no white cottages along these rocky shores; only a suc- 
 cession of rugged cliffs and sandy bays, but half mirrored in 
 the sombre water below. Down in the South the mighty 
 shoulders and peaks of Suainabhal and its sister mountains 
 were still darker than the darkening sky; and when at length 
 the boat had got well out from the network of islands and 
 fronted the broad waters of the Atlantic, the great plain of 
 the western sea seemed seemed already to have drawn around 
 it the solemn mantle of the night. 
 
 " Will you go to Borvapost, Mr. Mackenzie, or will we run 
 her into your own house?" asked Duncan Borvapost being 
 the name of the chief village on the island. 
 
 " I will not go on to Borvapost," said the old man, 
 peevishly. "Will they not have plenty to talk about at Bor- 
 vapost?" 
 
 "And it iss no harm tat ta folk will speak of Miss Sheila," 
 said the gillie with some show of resentment : <! it iss no harm 
 tey will be sorry she is gone away no harm at all, for it was 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 many things tey had to thank Miss Sheila for ; and now it 
 will be all ferry different " 
 
 "I tell you, Duncan Macdonald, to hold your peace !" 
 said the old man, with a savage glare of the deep-set eyes ; 
 and then Duncan relapsed into a sulky silence, and the boat 
 held on its way. 
 
 In the gathering twilight a long gray curve of sand became 
 visible, and into the bay thus indicated Mackenzie turned 
 his small craft. This indentation of the island seemed as 
 blank of human occupation as the various points and bays 
 they had passed, but as they neared the shore a house came 
 into sight, about half way up the slope rising from the sea to 
 the pasture land above. There was a small stone pier jut- 
 ting out at one portion of the bay, where a mass of rocks 
 was embedded in the white sand ; and here at length the 
 boat was run in, and Mackenzie helped the young girl 
 ashore. 
 
 The two of them, leaving the gillie to moor the little vessel 
 that had brought them from Callernish, went silently toward 
 the shore, and up the narrow road leading to the house. It 
 was a square, two-storied substantial building of stone, but 
 the stone had been liberally oiled to keep out the wet, and 
 the blackness thus produced had not a very cheerful look. 
 Then, on this particular evening the scant bushes surrounding 
 the house hung limp and dark 'in the rain, and amid the pre- 
 vailing hues of purple, blue-green and blue, the bit of scarlet 
 coping running around the black house was wholly ineffective 
 in relieving the general impression of dreariness and deso- 
 lation. 
 
 The King of Borva walked into a large room, which was 
 but partially lit by two candles on the table and by the blaze 
 of a mass of peats in the scone fire-place, and threw himself 
 into a big easy-chair. Then he suddenly seemed to recollect 
 his companion, who was timidly standing near the door, with 
 her shawl still around her head. 
 
 " Mairi," he said, "go and ask them to give you some dry 
 clothes. Your box it will not be here for half an hour yet." 
 Then he turned to the fire. 
 
 " But you yourself, Mr. Mackenzie, you will be ferry wet M 
 
 " Never mind me, my lass; go and get yourself dried." 
 
 '' But it wass Miss Sheila," began the girl diffidently " it 
 wass Miss Sheila asked me she asked me to look after you 
 sir" 
 
8 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 With that he rose abruptly, and advanced to her and 
 caught her by the wrist. He spoke quite quietly to her, but 
 the girl's eyes, looking up at the stern face, were a trifle 
 frightened. 
 
 " You are a ferry good little girl, Mairi," he said slowly, 
 " and you will mind what I say to you. You will do what 
 you like in the house, you will take Sheila's place as much as 
 you like, but you will mind this not to mention her name, 
 not once. Now go away, Mairi, and find Scarlett M acdonald, 
 and she will give you some dry clothes; and you will tell her 
 to send Duncan down to Borvapost, and bring up John the 
 Piper and Alisternan-Each, and the lads of the Nighean 
 dubh, if they are not gone home to Habost yet. But it iss 
 John the Piper must come directly." 
 
 The girl went away to seek counsel of Scarlett Macdonald, 
 Duncan's wife, and Mr. Mackenzie proceeded to walk up and 
 down the big and half-lit chamber. Then he went to the 
 cupboard, and put out on the table a number of tumblers 
 and glasses, with two or three odd-looking bottles of Nor- 
 wegian make, consisting of four semicircular tubes of glass, 
 meeting at top and bottom, leaving the center of the vessel 
 thus formed open. He stirred up the blazing peats in the 
 fire-place. He brought down from a shelf a box filled with 
 coarse tobacco, and put it on the table. But he was evidently 
 growing impatient, and at last he put on his cap again and 
 went out into the night. 
 
 The air blew cold in from the sea, and whistled through 
 the bushes that Sheila had trained about the porch. There 
 was no rain now, but a great and heavy darkness brooded 
 overhead, and in the silence he could hear the breaking of 
 ' the waves along the hard coast. But what was this other 
 sound he heard, wild and strange in the stillness of the night 
 a shrill and plaintive cry that the distance softened, until 
 it almost seemed to be the calling of a human voice ? Surely 
 those were words he heard, or was it only that the old, sad 
 air spyke to him ? 
 
 For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more, 
 Maybe to return to Lochaber no more. 
 
 That was the message that came to him out of the dark- 
 ness, and it seemed to him as if the sea and the night and 
 the sky were wailing over the loss of his Sheila. He walked 
 "way from the house and up the hill behind. Led by the 
 
A PRIMCESS OF THULE. 9 
 
 sound of the pipes, that grew louder and more unearthly as 
 he approached, he found himself at length on a bit of high 
 table-land overlooking the sea, where Sheila had had a rude 
 bench of iron and wood fixed into the rock. On this bench 
 sat a little old man, humpbacked and bent, and with long 
 white hair falling down to his shoulders. He was playing the 
 pipes not wildly and fiercely, as if he were at a drinking- 
 \)out of the lads come home from the Caithness fishing, nor 
 yet gaily and proudly, as if he were marching at the head of 
 a bridal procession, but slowly, mournfully, monotonously, as 
 though he were having the pipes talk to him. 
 
 Mackenzie touched him on the shoulder, and the old man 
 started. "Is it you, Mr. McKenzie?" he said in Gaelic. 
 " It is a great fright you haye given me." 
 
 "Come down to the house, John. The lads from Habost 
 and Alister, and some more will be coming; and you will get 
 a ferry good dram, John, to put wind in the pipes." 
 
 "It's no dram I'm thinking of, Mr. Mackenzie," said the 
 old man. " And you will have plenty of company without 
 me. But I will come down to the house, Mr. Mackenzie 
 oh, yes, I will come down to the house but /// a little while 
 I will come to the house." 
 
 Mackenzie turned from him with a petulant exclamation, 
 and went along and down the hill rapidly, as he could hear 
 voices in the darkness. He had just got into the house when 
 his visitors arrived. The door of the room was opened, and 
 there appeared some six or eight tall and stalwart men, mostly 
 with profuse brown beards and weather-beaten faces, who 
 advanced into the chamber with some show of shyness. 
 Mackenzie offered them a rough and hearty welcome, and 
 as soon as their eyes had got accustomed to the light bade 
 them help themselves to the whisky on the table. With a 
 certain solemnity each poured out a glass and drank 
 " Shiainte!" to his host as if it were some funeral rite. But 
 when he bade them replenish their glasses, and got them 
 seated with their faces to the blaze of the peats, then the 
 flood of Gaelic broke loose. Had the wise little girl from 
 Suainabost warned these big men ? There was not a word 
 about Sheila uttered. All their talk was of the reports that 
 had come from Caithness, and of the improvements of the 
 small harbor near the Butt, and of the black sea-horse that 
 had been seen in Lock Sua'nablnl, and of some more sheep 
 
IO A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 having been found dead on the Pladda Isles, shot by the 
 men of the English smack*. Pipes were lit, the peat stirred 
 up anew, another glass or two of whisky drunk, and then, 
 through the haze of the smoke, the brown faces of the men 
 could be seen in eager controversy, each talking faster than 
 the other, and comparing facts and fancies that had been 
 brooded over through solitary nights of waiting on the sea. 
 Mackenzie did not sit down with them; he did not even join 
 them in their attention to the curious whisky-flasks. He 
 paced up and down the opposite side of the room, occasionally 
 being appealed to with a story or question, and showing by 
 his answers that he was but vaguely hearing the vociferous 
 talk of his companions. At last he said, "Why the teffle 
 does not John the Piper come ? . Here, you men you sing 
 a song, quick! None of your funeral songs, but a good 
 brisk one of trinking and fighting." 
 
 But were not nearly all their songs like those of all dwell- 
 ers on a rocky and dangerous coast of a sad and sombre 
 hue, telling of maidens whose lovers were drowned, and of 
 wives bidding farewell to husbands they were never to see 
 again ? Slow and mournful are the songs that the Northern 
 fishermen sing as they set out in the evening, with the creak- 
 ing of the long oars keeping time to the music, until they 
 get out beyond the shore to hoist the red mainsail and catch 
 the breeze blowing over from the regions of the sunset. Not 
 one of these Habost fishermen could sing a brisk song, but 
 the nearest approach to it was a ballad in praise of a dark- 
 haired girl, which they, owning the Nighean dubh, were 
 bound to know. And so one young fellow began to sing, 
 " Mo Nighean dubh d'fhas boidheach dubh, mo Nighean 
 dubh na treig mi,"* in a slow and doleful fashion, and the 
 others joined in the chorus with a like solemnity. In order 
 to keep time, four of the men followed the common custom 
 of taking a pocket handkerchief (in this case an immense 
 piece of brilliant red silk, which was evidently the pride of 
 its owner), and holding it by the four corners letting it slow- 
 ly rise and fall as they sang. The other three men laid hold 
 of a bit of rope, which they used for the same purpose. " Mo 
 Nighean dubh," unlike most of the Gaelic songs, has but a 
 few verses; and, as soon as they were finished, the young 
 
 " My black-liaircd girl, my pretty jnrl, my black-haired girl, don't leave me." 
 * Nighean dubh " is pronounced "Nyean du." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. II 
 
 fellow, who seemed pleased with his performance, started 
 another ballad. Perhaps he had forgotten his host's injunc- 
 tion, perhaps he knew no merrier song, but at any rate he 
 began to sing the " Lament of Monaltrie." It was one of 
 Sheila's songs. She had sung it the night before in this very 
 room, and her father had listened to her describing the fate 
 of young Monaltrie as if she had been foretelling her own, 
 and scarcely dared to ask himself if ever again he should hear 
 the voice that he loved so well. He could not listen to the 
 song. He abruptly left the room and went out once more 
 into the cool night-air and the darkness. But even here he 
 was not allowed to forget the sorrow he had been vainly en- 
 deavoring to banish, for in the far distance the pipes still 
 played the melancholy wail of Lochaber. 
 
 Lochaber no more ! Lochaber no more ! 
 
 that was the only solace brought him by the winds from 
 the sea; and there were tears running down the hard gray 
 face as he said to himself, in a broken voice, "Sheila, my 
 little girl, why did you go away from Borva?" 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER, 
 
 " Why you must be in love with her yourself!" 
 " I in love with her ? Sheila and I are too old friends for 
 that!" 
 
 The speakers were two young men seated in the stern of the 
 steamer Clansman as she ploughed her way across the blue 
 and rushing waters of the Minch. One of them was a tall 
 young fellow of three-and-twenty, with fair hair and light blue 
 eyes, whose delicate and mobile features were handsome 
 enough in their way, and gave evidence of a nature at once 
 sensitive, nervous and impulsive. He was clad in light gray 
 from head to heel a color that suited his fair complexion 
 and yellow hair; and he lounged about the white deck in the 
 glare of the sunlight, steadying himself from time to time as 
 an unusually big wave carried the Clansman aloft for a second 
 or two, and then sent her staggering and groaning in to a hiss- 
 ing trough of foam. Now and again he would pause in front 
 of his companion, and talk in a rapid, playful, and even elo- 
 quent fashion for a minute or two; and then, apparently a 
 trifle annoyed by the slow and patient attention which 
 
12 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 greeted his oratorical efforts, would start off once more on 
 his unsteady journey up and down the white planks. 
 
 The other was a man of thirty-eight, of middle height, 
 sallow complexion and generally insignificant appearance. 
 His hair was becoming prematurely gray. He rarely spoke. 
 He was dressed in a suit of rough blue cloth, and indeed 
 looked somewhat like a pilot who had gone ashore, taken to 
 study and never recovered himself. A stranger would have 
 noticed the tall and fair young man who walked up and down 
 the gleaming deck, evidently enjoying the brisk breeze that 
 blew about his yellow hair, and the sunlight that touched his 
 pale and fine face or sparkled on his teeth.when he laughed, 
 but would have paid little attention to the smaller, brown- 
 faced, gray-haired man, who lay back on the bench with his 
 two hands clasped around his knee, and with his eye fixed 
 on the southern heavens, while he murmured to himself the 
 lines of some ridiculous old Devonshire ballad or replied in 
 monosyllables to the rapid and eager talk of his friend. 
 
 Both men were good sailors, and they had need to be, for 
 although the sky above them was as blue and clear as the 
 heart of the sapphire, and although the sunlight shone on the 
 decks and the rigging, a strong north-easter had been blow- 
 ing all the morning, and there was a considerable sea on. 
 The far blue plain was whitened with the tumbling crests of 
 the waves, that shone and sparkled in the sun, and ever and 
 anon a volume of water would strike the Clansman's bow, 
 rise high in the air with the shock, and fall in heavy showers 
 over the forward decks. Sometimes, too, a wave caught her 
 broadside, and sent a handful of spray over the two or three 
 passengers who were safe in the stern; but the decks here re 
 mained silvery and white, for the sun and wind speedily 
 dried up the traces of the sea-showers. 
 
 At length the taller of the young men came and sat down 
 by his companion : " How far to Stornoway yet ? " 
 
 " An hour." 
 
 "By Jove, what a distance! All day yesterday getting up 
 from Oban to Skye, all last night churning our way up to 
 Loch Gair, all to-day crossing to this outlandish island, that 
 seems as far away as Iceland ; and for what ? " 
 
 " But don't you remember the moonlight last night as we 
 sailed by the Cuchullins ? And the sunrise this morning as 
 we lay in Loch Gair? Were not these worth coming for," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 13 
 
 "But that was not what you came for, my dear friend. 
 No. You came to carry off this wonderful Miss Sheila of 
 yours, and of course you wanted somebody to Icok on ; and 
 here I am, ready to carry the ladder and the dark lantern 
 and the marriage-license. I will saddle your steeds for you 
 and row you over lakes, and generally do anything to help 
 you in so romantic an enterprise." 
 
 " It is very kind of you, Lavender," said the other with a 
 smile, " but such adventures are not for old fogies like me. 
 They are the exclusive right of young fellows like you, who 
 are tall and well-favored, have plenty of money and good 
 spirits, and have a way with you that all the world admires. 
 Of course the bride will tread a measure with you. Of course 
 all the bridesmaids would like to see you marry her. Of 
 course she will taste the cup you offer her. Then a word in 
 her ear, and away you go as if it were the most natural thing 
 in the world, and as if the bridegroom was a despicable crea- 
 ture merely because God had only given him five feet six 
 inches. But you couldn't have a Lochinvar five feet six. 
 
 The younger man blushed like a girl and laughed a little, 
 and was evidently greatly pleased. Nay, in the height of his 
 generosity he began to protest. He would not have his 
 friend imagine that women cared only for stature and good 
 looks. There were other qualities. He himself had ob- 
 served the most singular conquests made by men who were 
 not good-looking, but who had a certain fascination about 
 them. His own experience of women was considerable, and 
 he was quite certain that the best women, now the sort of 
 women whom a man would respect the women who had 
 brains 
 
 And so forth and so forth. The other listened quite 
 gravely to these well-meant, kindly, blundering explanations, 
 and only one who watched his face narrowly could have de- 
 tected in the brown eyes a sort of amused consciousness of 
 the intentions of the amiable and ingenuous youth. 
 
 "Do you really mean to tell me, Ingram," continued 
 Lavender, in his rapid and impetuous way, "do you mean 
 to tell me that you are not in love with this Highland prin- 
 cess? For ages back you. have talked of nothing but 
 Sheila. How many an hour have I spent in clubs, up the 
 river, down at the coast, everywhere, listening to your stories 
 of Sheila, and your praises of Sheila, and your descriptions of 
 
14 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Sheila! It was always Sheila, and again Sheila, and still again 
 Sheila. But, do you know, either you exaggerated or I failed 
 to understand your descriptions; for the Sheila I came to 
 construct out of your talk, is a most incongruous and incom- 
 prehensible creature. First, Sheila knows about stone and 
 lime and building; and then I suppose her to be a practical 
 young woman, who is a sort of overseer to her father. But 
 Sheila, again, is romantic and mysterious, and believes in 
 visions and dreams; and then I take her to be an affected 
 school-miss. But then Sheila can throw a fly and play her 
 sixteen-pounder, and Sheila can adventure upon the lochs in 
 an open boat, managing the sail herself; and then I find 
 her to be a torn-boy. But, again, Sheila is shy and rarely 
 speaks, but looks unutterable things with her soft and magnifi- 
 cent eyes; and what does that mean but that she is an ordin- 
 ary young lady, who has not been in society, and who is a little 
 interesting, if a little stupid, while she is unmarried, and who, 
 after marriage, calmly and complacently sinks into the dull 
 domestic hind, whose only thought is of butchers' bills and 
 perambulators!" 
 
 This was a fairly long speech, but it was no longer than 
 many which Frank Lavender was accustomed to utter when 
 in the vein for talking. His friend and companion did not 
 pay much heed. His hands were still clasped around his 
 knee, his head leaning back, and all the answer he made was 
 to repeat, apparently to himself, these not very pertinent lines: 
 
 " In Ockington, in Devonsheer, 
 My vather he lived vor many a yeer: 
 And I, his son, with him did dwell, 
 To tend his sheep: 'twas doleful well. 
 Diddle-diddle!" 
 
 "You know, Ingram, it must be precious hard for man 
 who has to knock about in society, and take his wife with 
 him, to have to explain to everybody that she is in reality a 
 most unusual and gifted young person, and that she must 
 not be expected to talk. It is all very well for him in his own 
 house that is to say, if he can preserve all the sentiment 
 that made her shyness fine and wonderful before their mar> 
 riage but a man owes a little to society, even in choosing a 
 wife." 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 " It happened on a zartin day 
 Four-score o' the sheep they rinned astray 
 Says vather to I, 'Jack, rin uru-r 'in, du! 
 Says 1 to vather, ' I'm darned if I du! ' 
 
 Uiddle-cliddlel" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. l$ 
 
 "Now you are the sort of a man, I should think, who 
 would never get careless about your wife. You would 
 always believe about her what you believed at first; and I 
 dare say you would live very happily in your own house if 
 she was a decent sort of woman. But you would have to go 
 out into society sometimes; and the very fact that you had 
 not got careless as many men would, leaving their wives to 
 produce any sort of impression they might would make you 
 vexed that the world could not, off-hand, value your wife as 
 you fancy she ought to be valued. Don't you see ?" 
 
 This was the answer: 
 
 " Puvoket much at my rude tongue, 
 A dish o' brath at me he vlung, 
 Which so incensed me to wrath, 
 That I up an' knack un instantly to arth, 
 Diddle-diddle !" 
 
 " As for your Princess Sheila, I firmly believe you have 
 some romantic notion of marrying her and taking her up to 
 London with you. If you seriously intend such a thing, I 
 shall not argue with you. I shall praise her by the hour 
 together, for I may have to depend on Mrs. Edward Ingram 
 for my admission to your house. But if you only have the 
 fancy as a fancy, consider what the result would be. You 
 say she has never been to a school; that she has never had 
 the companionship of a girl of her own age; that she has 
 never read a newspaper; that she has never been out of this 
 island ; and that almost her sole society has been -that of her 
 mother, who educated her and tended her, and left her as 
 ignorant of the real world as if she had lived all her life in 
 a lighthouse. Goodness gracious! what a figure euch a girl 
 would cut in South Kensington!" 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Ingram at last, " don't be absurd. 
 You will soon see what are the relations between Sheila 
 Mackenzie and me, and you will be satisfied. I marry her ? 
 Do you think I would take the child to London to show her 
 its extravagance and shallow society, and break her heart 
 with thinking of the sea, and of the rude islanders she knew, 
 and of their hard and bitter struggle for life ? No. I should 
 not like to see my wild Highland doe shut up in one of your 
 southern parks, among your tame fallow-deer. She would 
 look at them askance. She would separate herself from them, 
 and by and by she would make one wild effort to escape and 
 kill herself. That is not the fate in store for our good little 
 
l6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Sheila ; so you need not make yourself unhappy about her Ol 
 me. 
 
 u * Now all ye young men, of every persuasion, 
 Never quarl wi" your vather upon any occasion; 
 For instead of being better, you'll vind you'll be wuss, 
 For he'll kick you out o' doors, without a varden in your puss! 
 Diddle-diddle I" 
 
 -'Talking of Devonshire, how is that young American 
 lady you met at Torquay in the Spring ?" 
 
 " There, now, is the sort of woman a man would be safe 
 in marrying!" 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 " Oh, well, you know," said Frank Lavender, " I mean 
 the sort of woman who would, do you credit hold her own 
 in society, and that sort of thing. You must meet her some 
 day. I tell you, Ingram, you will be delighted and charmed 
 with her manners, and her grace, and the clever things she 
 says; at least, everybody else is." 
 
 "Ah, well!" 
 
 "You don't seem to care much for brilliant women," re- 
 marked the other, rather disappointed that his companion 
 showed so little interest. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I like brilliant women very well. A clever 
 woman is always a pleasanter companion than a clever man. 
 But you were talking of the choice of a wife; and pertness 
 in a girl, although it may be amusing at the time, may be- 
 come something else by and by. Indeed, I shouldn't advise 
 a young man to marry an epigrammatist, for you see her 
 shrewdness and smartness are generally the result of experi^ 
 ences in which he has had no share." 
 
 "There may be something in that," said Lavender; "but 
 jf course, you know, with a widow it is different; and Mrs. 
 Lorraine never does go in for the ingenue'' 1 
 
 T>ie pale blue cloud that had for some time been lying 
 . liruly aloi g the horizon now came nearer and more near, 
 rntil they could pick out something like the configuration 
 of the island, its bays and promontories and mountains. 
 The day seemed to become warmer as they got out of the 
 driving wind of the Channel, and the heavy roll of the sea 
 had so far subsided. Through comparatively calm water the 
 great Clansman drove her away, until, on getting near the 
 land and under shelter of the peninsula of Eye, the voyagers 
 found themselves on a beautiful blue plain, with the spacious 
 
A P&1NCESS OF THULfi. if 
 
 iarbor of Stornoway opening out before them. There, on 
 :h? one side, lay a white and cleanly town, with its shops, 
 and quays and shipping. Above the bay in front stood a 
 great gray castle, surrounded by pleasure-grounds and ter- 
 races and gardens; while on the southern side the harbor 
 was overlooked by a semi-circle of hills, planted with every 
 variety of tree. The white houses, the blue bay and the 
 large gray building set amid grem terraces and overlooked 
 by wooded hills, formed a bright and lively little picture on 
 this fresh and brilliant forenoon; and young Lavender, who 
 had a quick eye for compositions which he was always about 
 to undertake, but which never appeared on canvas, declared 
 enthusiastically that he would spend a day or two in Storno- 
 way on his return from Borva, and take home with him some 
 sketch of the place. 
 
 "And is Miss Sheila on the quay, yonder?" he asked. 
 
 " Not likely," said Ingram. " It is a long drive across the 
 island, and I suppose she would remain at home to look after 
 our dinner in the evening." 
 
 "What? The wonderful Princess Sheila look after our 
 dinner! Has she visions among the pots and pans,' and 
 does she look unutterable things when she is peeling pota- 
 toes ?" 
 
 Ingram laughed : " There will a pretty alteration in your 
 tune in a couple of days. You are sure to fall in love with 
 her, and sigh desperately for a week or two. You always do 
 when you meet a woman anywhere. But it won't hurt you 
 much, and she wont know anything about it." 
 
 "I should rather like to fall in love with her to see how 
 furiously jealous you would become. However, here we 
 are." 
 
 "And there is Mackenzie the man with the big gray 
 beard and the peaked cap and he is talking to the cham- 
 berlain of the island." 
 
 " What does he get up on his wagonette for, instead of 
 coming on board to meet you?" 
 
 " Oh, that is one of his little tricks," said Ingrain, with a 
 good-humored smile. " He means to receive us in state, and 
 impress you, a stranger, with his dignity. The good old 
 fellow has a hundred harmless ways like that, and you must 
 humor him. He has been accustomed to be treated en roi^ 
 you know." 
 
10 A PRINCESS OF 
 
 "Then the papa of the mysterious princess is not pet- 
 feet ? 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to tell you now that Mackenzie's oddest 
 notion is that he has awonderful skill in managing men, and 
 in concealing the manner of his doing it. I tell you this that 
 you mayn't laugh and hurt him when he is attempting some- 
 thing that he considers particularly crafty, and that a child 
 could see through." 
 
 "But what is the aim of it all ?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing." 
 
 " He does not do a little bet occasionally ?" 
 
 "Oh, dear! no. He is the best and honestest fellow in 
 the world, but it pleases him to fancy that he is profoundly 
 astute, and that other people don't see the artfulness with 
 which he reaches some little result that is not of the least 
 consequence to anybody." 
 
 " It seems to me," remarked Mr. Lavender, with a coolness 
 and shrewdness that rather surprised his companion, " that it 
 would not be difficult to get the King of Borva to assume the 
 honors of a papa-in-law." 
 
 The steamer was moored at last; the crowd of fishermen 
 and loungers drew near to meet their friends who had come 
 up from Glasgow for there are few strangers, as a rule, 
 arriving at Stornoway to whet the curiosity of the islanders 
 and the tall gillie who had been standing by Mackenzie's 
 horses came on board to get the luggage of the young men. 
 
 " Well, Duncan," said the elder of them, " and how are 
 you, and how is Mr. Mackenzie, and how is Miss Sheila? 
 You have not brought her with you, I see." 
 
 " But Miss Sheila is ferry well, whatever, Mr. Ingram, and 
 it is a great day, this day, for her, tat you will be coming to 
 the Lewis; and it wass tis morning she wass up at ta break o' 
 day, and up ta hills ta get some bits o' green things for ta 
 rooms you will hef, Mr. Ingram. Ay, it iss a great day, tis 
 day ? for Miss Sheila." 
 
 " By Jove, they all rave about Sheila up in this quarter!" 
 said Lavender, giving Duncan a fishing-rod and a bag he had 
 brought from the cabin. " I suppose in a week's time I shall 
 begin to rave about her, too. Look sharp, Ingram, and let 
 us have audience of His Majesty." 
 
 The King of Borva fixed his eye on young Lavender, and. 
 scanned him narrowly as Jie was being introduced. His wel- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 1<J 
 
 come of Ingram had been most gracious and friendly, but 
 he received his companion with something of a severe polite* 
 ness. He requested him to take a seat beside him, so that he 
 might see the country as they went across to Borva; and 
 Lavender having done so, Ingram and Duncan got into the 
 body of the wagonette, and the party drove off. 
 
 Passing through the clean and bright little town, Macken= 
 zie suddenly pulled up his horses in front of a small shop, in 
 the windows of which some cheap bits of jewelry were visible. 
 The man came out, and Mr. Mackenzie explained with some 
 care and precision that he wanted a silver brooch of a par- 
 ticular sort. While the jeweler had Returned to seek the 
 article in question, Frank Lavender was gazing around him 
 in some wonder at the appearance of so much civilization on 
 this remote and rarely visited island. There were no hag- 
 gard savages, unkempt and scantily clad, coming forth from 
 their dens in the rocks to stare wildly at the strangers. On 
 the contrary, there was a prevailing air of comfort and " bien- 
 ness" about the people and their houses. He saw hand- 
 some girls with coal-black hai.r and fresh complexions, who 
 wore short and thick blue petticoats, with a scarlet tartan 
 shawl wrapped around their bosom and fastened at the waist; 
 stalwart, thick-set men, in loose blue jacket and trowsers and 
 scarlet cap, many of them with bushy red beards; and women 
 of extraordinary breadth of shoulder, who carried enormous 
 loads in a creel strapped on their backs, while they em- 
 ployed their hands in contentedly knitting stockings as they 
 passed along. But what was the purpose of these mighty 
 loads of fish-bones they carried burdens that would have 
 appalled a railway porter of the South ? 
 
 "You will see, sir," observed the King of Borva, in reply 
 to Lavender's question, " there is not much of the phos- 
 phates in the grass of this island; and the cows they are rnad 
 to get the fish-bones to lick, and it is many of them you can- 
 not milk unless you put the bones before them." 
 
 " But why do the lazy fellows lounging about there let the 
 women carry those enormous loads ?" 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie stared: " Lazy fellows! They hef harder 
 work than any who will know of in your country; and be- 
 sides the fishing, they will do the ploughing and much of the 
 farm work. And iss the women to do none at all ? That iss 
 the nonsense that my daughter talks; but she has got it out 
 
20 A PRINCiSS OF THULE. 
 
 of books, and what do they know how the poor people hef 
 to live ?" 
 
 At this moment the jeweler returned with some half dozen 
 brooches displayed on a plate, and shining with all the bril- 
 liancy of cairngorm stones, polished silver and variously- 
 colored pebbles. 
 
 " Now, John Mackintyre, this is a gentleman from Lon- 
 don," said Mackenzie, regarding the jeweler sternly, " and 
 he will know all apout such fine things, and you will not put 
 a big price on them." 
 
 It was now Lavender's turn to stare, but he good-naturedly 
 accepted the duties f referee, and eventually a brooch was 
 selected and paid for, the price being six shillings. Then 
 they drove on again. 
 
 "Sheila will know nothing of this ; it will be a great sur- 
 prise for her," said Mackenzie, almost to himself, as he 
 opened the white box, and saw the glaring piece of jewelry 
 lying on the white cotton. 
 
 "Good Heavens, sir," cried Frank Lavender, "you don't 
 mean to say you bought that brooch for your daughter ?" 
 
 " And why not ? " said the King of Borva, in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
 The young man perceived his mistake, grew considerably 
 confused, and only said : " Well, I should have thought fhat 
 that some small piece of gold jewelry, now, would be better 
 suited for a young lady." 
 
 Mackenzie smiled shrewdly: "I had something to go on. 
 It was Sheila herself was in Stornoway three weeks ago, and 
 she was wanting to buy a brooch for a young girl who had 
 come down to us from Suainabost, and is very useful in the 
 kitchen, and it wass a brooch, just like this one, she gave to 
 her." 
 
 "Yes, to a kitchen-maid," said the young man, meekly. 
 
 "But Mairi is Sheila's cousin," said Mackenzie, with con- 
 tinued surprise. 
 
 <J Lavender does not understand Highland ways yet, Mr. 
 Mackenzie," said Ingram, from behind. "You know we, in 
 the South, have different fashions. Our servants are nearly 
 always strangers to us not relations and companions." 
 
 " Oh, I hef peen in London myself," said Mackenzie, in 
 somewhat of an injured tone; and then he added, with a 
 touch of satisfaction: "and I hef been in Paris, too.'' 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2J 
 
 " And Miss Sheila, has she been in London ? " asked Lav- 
 ender, feigning ignorance. 
 
 " She has never been out of the Lewis." 
 
 " But don't you think the education of a young lady should 
 include some little experience of traveling ? " 
 
 "Sheila, she will be educated quite enough; and is she 
 going to London or Paris without me ? " 
 
 " You might take her." 
 
 " I have too much to do on the island now, and Sheila has 
 much to do. I do not think she will ever see any of those 
 places, and she will not be much the worse." 
 
 Two young men off for their holidays, a brilliant day shin- 
 ing all around them, the sweet air of the sea and the moor- 
 land blowing about them this little party that now drove 
 away from Stornoway ought to have been in the best of 
 spirits. And indeed the young fellow who sat beside Mac- 
 kenzie was bent on pleasing his host by praising everything 
 he saw. He praised the gallant little horses that whirled 
 them past the plantations and into the open country. He 
 praised the rich black peat that was visible in long lines and 
 heaps, where the townspeople were slowly eating into the 
 moorland. Then all these traces of occupation were left be- 
 hind, and the travelers were alone in the untenanted heart of 
 the island, where the only sounds audible were the humming 
 of insects in the sunlight and the falling of the streams. 
 Away in the south the mountains were of a silvery and trans- 
 parent blue. Nearer at hand the rich reds and browns of 
 the moorland softened into a tender and beautiful green on 
 nearing the margins of the lakes; and these stretches of ! 
 water were now as fair and bright as the sky above them,^ 
 and were scarcely ruffled by the moorfowl moving out from 
 the green rushes. Still nearer at hand great masses of white 
 rock lay embedded in the soft soil; and what could have 
 harmonized better with the rough and silver-gray surface than 
 the patches of rose-red bell-heather that grew up in the 
 clefts or hung over their summits. The various and beauti- 
 ful colors around seemed to tingle with light and warmth as 
 the clear sun shone on them and the keen mountain air blew 
 over them ; and the King of Borva was so far thawed by the 
 enthusiasm of his companions that he regarded the fair coun- 
 try with a pleased smile, as if the enchanted land belonged 
 to him, and as if the wonderful colors and the exhilarating 
 air and the sweet perfumes were of his own creation, 
 
22 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie did not know much about tints and hues, 
 but he believed what he heard; and it was perhaps, after all, 
 not very surprising that a gentleman from London, who had 
 skill of pictures and other delicate matters, should find 
 strange marvels in a common stretch of moor, with a few 
 lakes here and there, and some lines of mountains only good 
 for sheilings. It was not for him to check the raptures of 
 his guest. He began to be friendly with the young man, 
 and could not help regarding him as a more cheerful com- 
 panion than his neighbor Ingram, who would sit by your side 
 for an hour at a time without breaking the monotony of the 
 horses' tramp with a single remark. He had formed a poor 
 opinion of Lavender's physique from the first glimpse he had 
 of his white fingers and girl-like complexion; but surely a 
 man who had such a vast amount of good spirits and such a 
 rapidity of utterance must have something corresponding to 
 these qualities in substantial bone and muscle. There was 
 something pleasing and ingenuous too about this flow of talk. 
 Men who had arrived at years of wisdom, and knew how to 
 study and use their fellows, were not to be led into these 
 betrayals of their secret opinions; but fora young man 
 what could be more pleasing than to see him lay open his 
 soul to the observant eye of a master of men ? Mackenzie 
 began to take a great fancy to young Lavender. 
 
 " Why," said Lavender, with a fine color mantling in his 
 cheeks as the wind caught them on a higher portion of the 
 road. "I had heard of Lewis as a most bleak and desolate 
 island, flat moorland and lake, without a hill to be seen. And 
 everywhere I see hills, and yonder are great mountains which 
 I hope to get nearer before we leave." 
 
 , " We have mountains iu this island," remarked Mackenzie 
 slowly as he kept his eye on his companion, <k we have moun- 
 tains in this island sixteen thousand feet high." 
 
 Lavender looked sufficiently astonished, and the old man 
 was pleased. He paused for a moment or two and said. 
 " But this iss the way of it: you will see that the middle of 
 the mountains it has all been washed away by the weather, 
 and you will only have the sides now dipping one way- and 
 the other at each side o' the island. But it iss a very clever 
 man in Stornoway will tell me that you can make out what 
 wass the height o' the mountain, by watching the dipping of 
 the rocks on each side; and it iss an older country, this island, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULK. 23 
 
 than any you will know of; and there were the mountains six- 
 teen thousand feet high long before all this country and all 
 Scotland and England wass covered with ice." 
 
 The young man was very desirous to show his interest in 
 this matter, but did not know very well how. At last he ven- 
 tured to ask whether there were any fossils in the blocks of 
 gneiss that were scattered over the moorland. 
 
 "Fossils?" said Mackenzie. "Oh, I will not care much 
 About such small things. If you will ask Sheila, she will tell 
 you all about it, and about the small things she finds growing 
 on the hills. That is not of much consequence to me; but I 
 will tell you what is the best thing the island grows; it is 
 good girls and strong men men that can go to the fishing 
 and come back to plough the fields and cut the peat and 
 build the houses, and leave the women to look after the 
 fields and the gardens when they go back again to the fish- 
 eries. But it is the old people they are ferry cunning, and 
 they will not put their money in the bank at Stornoway, but 
 will hide it away about the house, and then they will come 
 to Sheila and ask for money to put a pane of glass in their 
 house. And she has promised that to every one who will 
 make a window in the wall of their house; and she is very 
 simple with them and does not understand the old people 
 that tell lies. But when I hear of it I say nothing to Sheila 
 she will know nothing about it but I have a watch put 
 upon the people; and it was only yesterday I will take back 
 two shillings she gave to an old woman of Borvabost that 
 told many lies. What does a young thing know of these old 
 people? She will know nothing at all, and it is better for 
 some one else to look after them, but not to speak one word 
 of it to her." 
 
 " It must require great astuteness to manage a primitive 
 people like that," said young Lavender, with an air of con- 
 viction; and the old man eagerly and proudly assented, and 
 went on to tell of the manifold diplomatic arts he used in 
 reigning over his small kingdom, and how his subjects lived 
 in blissful ignorance that this controlling power was being 
 exercised. 
 
 They were startled by an exclamation from Ingram, who 
 called to Mackenzie to pull up the horses just as they were 
 passing over a small bridge. 
 
 "Look there, Lavender, did you ever see salmon jumping 
 like that ? Look at the size of Uxem!" 
 
24 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Oh, it iss nothing,*' said Mackenzie, driving on again/] 
 "Where you will see the salmon, it is in the narrows of Loch 
 Roag, where they come into the rivers, and the tide is low. 
 Then you will see them jumping; and if the water wass too 
 low for a long time, they will die in hundreds and hundreds." 
 
 "But what makes them jump before they get into the 
 rivers ? " 
 
 . Old Mackenzie smiled a crafty smile, as if he had found 
 out all the ways and the secrets of the salmon. " They will 
 jump to look about them that iss all." 
 
 " Do you think a salmon can see where he is going ? " 
 
 "And maybe you will explain this to me, then," said the 
 king, with a compassionate air, "how iss it the salmon will 
 try to jump over some stones in the river, and he will see he 
 can't go over them ; but does he fall straight down on the 
 stones and kill himself? Neffer no, neffer. He will get 
 back to the pool he left by turning in the air; that is what I 
 hef seen hundreds of times myself." 
 
 "Then they must be able to fly as well as see in the air." 
 
 " You may say about it what you will please, but that is 
 what I know that is what I know ferry well myself." 
 
 "And I should think there were not many people in the 
 country who knew more about salmon than you," said Frank 
 Lavender. " And I hear, too, that your daughter is a great 
 fisher." 
 
 But this was a blunder. The old man frowned ; " Who 
 will tell you such nonsense ? Sheila has gone out many times 
 with Duncan, and he will put a rod in her hand ; yes, and 
 she will have caught a fish or two, but it iss not a story to 
 tell. My daughter she will have plenty to do about the house 
 without any of such nonsense. You will expect to find us al' 
 savages, with such stories of nonsense." 
 
 "I am sure not," said Lavender, warmly. " I have been 
 very much struck with the civilization of the island, so far as 
 I have seen it ; and I can assure you I have always heard of 
 Miss Sheila as a singularly accomplished young lady." 
 
 " Yes," said Mackenzie, somewhat mollified, " Sheila has 
 been well brought up ; she is not a fisherman's lass, running 
 about wild and catching the salmon. I cannot listen to such 
 nonsense, and it iss Duncan will tell it." 
 
 " I can assure you, no. I have never spoken to Duncan. 
 The fact is, Ingram mentioned that your daughter had caught 
 a salmon or two as a tribute to her skill, you know." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 25 
 
 "Oh, I know it wass Duncan," said Mackenzie, with a 
 deeper frown coming over his face. " I will hef some means 
 taken to stop Duncan from talking such nonsense." 
 
 The young man knowing nothing as yet of the childlike 
 obedience paid to the King of Borva by his islanders, 
 thought to himself, ''Well, you are a strong and self-willed 
 old gentleman, but if I were you I should not meddle much 
 with that tall keeper with the eagle beak and the gray eyes, 
 I should not like to be a stag, and know that fellov was 
 watching me somewhere with a rifle in his hands." 
 
 At length they came upon the brow of the hill overlooking 
 Gara-na-hina* and the panorama of the western lochs and 
 mountains. Down there on the side of the hill was the small 
 inn, with its little patch of garden; then a few moist mead- 
 ows leading over to the estuary of the Black river; and be- 
 yond that an illimitable prospect of heathy undulations rising 
 into the mighty peaks of Cracabhal, Mealasabhal and Suaina- 
 bhal. Then on the right, leading away to the as yet invisi- 
 ble Atlantic, lay the blue plain of Loch Roag, with a margin 
 of yellow seaweed along its shores, where the rocks revealed 
 themselves at low water, and with a multitude of large, varie- 
 gated and verdant islands which hid from sight the still 
 greater Borva beyond. 
 
 They stopped to have a glass of whisky at Gara-na-hina, 
 and Mackenzie got down from the wagonette and went into 
 the inn. 
 
 " And this is a Highland loch ! " said Lavender, turning to 
 his companion from the South. "It is an enchanted sea; 
 you could fancy yourself in the Pacific, if only there were 
 some palm trees on the shores of the islands. No wonder 
 you took for an Eve any sort of woman you met in such a 
 paradise ! " 
 
 " You seem to be thinking a good deal about that young 
 lady." 
 
 " Well, who would not wish to make the acquaintance of a 
 pretty girl, especially when you have plenty of time on your 
 hands, and nothing to do but pay her little attentions, you 
 know, and so forth, as being the daughter of your host? " 
 
 There was no particular answer to such an incoherent 
 question, but Ingram did not seem so well pleased as he had 
 
 *Uterally, " Qcaraidh-na'k-Aimhne," the cutting of the rivj. 
 
26 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 been with the prospect of introducing his friend to the young 
 Highland girl whose praises he had been reciting for many a 
 day. 
 
 However, they drank their whisky, drove on to Callernish, 
 and here paused for a minute or two to show the stranger a 
 series of large so-called Druidical stones which occupy a 
 small station overlooking the loch. Could anything have 
 been more impressive than the sight of these solitary gray 
 pillars placed on this bit of table-land high over the sea, and 
 telling of a race that vanished ages ago, and left the surround- 
 ing plains, and hills, and shores a wild and untenanted soli- 
 tude? But, somehow Lavender did not care to remain 
 among those voiceless monuments of a forgotten past. He 
 said he would come and sketch them some other day. He 
 praised the picture all around, and then came back to the 
 stretch of ruffled blue water .lying at the base of the hill. 
 " Where was Mr. Mackenzie's boat ? " he asked. 
 
 They left the high plain, with its Tuirsachan* or Stones 
 of Mourning, and descended to the side of the loch. In a 
 few moments, Duncan, who had been disposing of the horses 
 and the wagonette, overtook them, got ready the boat, and 
 presently they were cutting asunder the bright blue plain of 
 summer waves. 
 
 At last they were nearing the King of Borva's home, and 
 Ingram began to study the appearance of the neighboring 
 shores, as if he would pick out some feature of the island he 
 remembered. The white foam hissed down the side of the 
 open boat. The sun burned hot on the brown sail. Far away 
 over the shining plain the salmon were leaping into the air, 
 catching a quick glint of silver on their scales before they 
 splashed again into the water. Half a dozen sea-pyes, with 
 their beautiful black and white plumage and scarlet beaks 
 and feet, flew screaming out from the rocks and swept in 
 rapid circles above the boat. A long flight of solan geese 
 could just be seen slowly sailing along the westward horizon. 
 As tl}e small craft got out toward the sea the breeze freshened 
 slightly, and she lay over somewhat as the brine-laden winds 
 caught her and tingled on the cheeks of her passengers from 
 the softer South. Finally, as the great channel widened out, 
 
 'Another name given by the islanders to these stones, is " Fir-bhreige," false men. 
 Both names, False Men and the Mourners, should be of some interest to antiquarians* 
 (or they will suit pretty nearly any theory. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 27 
 
 and the various smaller islands disappeared behind, Ingram 
 touched his companion on the shoulder, looked over to a 
 long and low line of rock and hill, and said, " Borva!" 
 
 And this was Borva! nothing visible but an indefinite ex- 
 tent of rocky shore, with here and there a bay of white sand, 
 and over that a table-land of green pasture, apparently unin- 
 habited. 
 
 " There are not many people on the island," said Laven- 
 der, who seemed rather disappointed with the look of the 
 place. 
 
 " There are three hundred," said Mackenzie with the air 
 of one who' had experienced the difficulties of ruling over 
 three hundred islanders. 
 
 He had scarcely spoken when his attention was called by 
 Duncan to some object that the gillie had been regarding for 
 some minutes back. 
 
 " Yes, it is Miss Sheila," said Duncan. 
 
 A sort of flush of expectation passed over Lavender's face, 
 and hesprang to his feet. Ingram laughed. Did the fooli.-h 
 youth fancy he could see half as far as this gray-eyed, eagle- 
 faced man, who had now sunk into his accustomed seat by 
 the mast ? There was nothing visible to ordinary eyes but a 
 speck of a boat, with a single sail up, which was, apparently, 
 in the distance, running in for Borva. 
 
 "Ay, ay, ay," said Mackenzie in a vexed way, "it is Sheila, 
 true enough; and what will she do out in the boat at this 
 time, when she wass to be at home to receive the gentlemen 
 that hef come all the way from London ?" 
 
 "Well, Mr. Mackenzie," said Lavender, "I should be 
 sorry to think that our coming had interfered in any way 
 whatever with your daughter's amusements." 
 
 "Amusements!" said the old man with a look of surprise 
 
 "It iss not amusements she will go for; that is no amuse- 
 
 "ments for her. It is for some teffle of a purpose she will go, 
 
 when it iss the house that is the proper place for her, with 
 
 friends coming from so great a journey." 
 
 Presently it became clear that a race between the two 
 boats was inevitable, both of them making for the same point. 
 Mackenzie would take no notice of such a thing, but there 
 was a grave smile on Duncan's face, and something like a 
 look of pride in his keen 'eyes. 
 
 " There iss no one, not one," he said, almost to himself. 
 
"will take her in better that Miss Sheila not one in ta 
 island. And it wass me tat learnt her every bit o' ta steering, 
 about Borva." 
 
 The strangers could now make out that in the other boat 
 there were two girls one seated in the stern, the other by 
 the mast. Ingram took out his handkerchief and waved it: 
 a similar token of recognition was floated out from the other 
 vessel. But Mackenzie's boat presently had the better of the 
 wind, and slowly drew on ahead, until, when her passengers 
 landed on the rude stone quay, they found the other and 
 smaller craft still some little distance off. 
 
 Lavender paid little attention to his luggage. He let Dun- 
 can do with it what he liked. He was watching the small 
 boat coming in, and getting a little impatient, and perhaps a 
 little nervous, in waiting for a glimpse of the young lady in 
 the stern. He could vaguely make out that she had an abun- 
 dance of dark hair looped up; that she wore a small straw hat 
 with a short white feather in it; and that, for the rest, she 
 seemed to be habited entirely in some rough and close-fitting 
 costume of dark blue. Or was there a glimmer of a band of 
 rose-red around her neck ? 
 
 The small boat was cleverly run alongside the jetty: Dun- 
 can caught her bow and held her fast, and Miss Sheila, with 
 a heavy string of lythe in her right hand, stepped, laughing 
 and blushing, on to the quay. Ingram was there. She 
 dropped the fish on the stones and took his two hands in hers, 
 and without uttering a word, looked a glad welcome into his 
 face. It was a face capable of saying unwritten things fine 
 and delicate in form, and yet full of an abundance of health 
 and good spirits that shone in deep gray-blue eyes. Laven- 
 der's first emotion was one of surprise that he should have 
 heard this handsome, well-knit and proud-featured girl called 
 " little Sheila," and spoken ot in a pretty and caressing way. 
 He thought there was something almost majestic in her figure/ 
 in the poising of her head and the outline of her face. But 
 presently he began to perceive some singular suggestions of 
 sfiasitiveness and meekness in the low, sweet brow, in the 
 short and exquisitely curved upper lip, and in the look of the 
 tender blue eyes, which had long, black eyelashes to give 
 them a peculiar and indefinable charm. All this he noticed 
 hastily and timidly as he heard Ingram, who still held the 
 girl's hands in his, saying, " Well, Sheila, and you haven't 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2 J) 
 
 quite forgotten me ? And you are grown such a woman now: 
 why, I musn't call you Sheila any more, I think. But let 
 me introduce you to my friend, 'who has come all the way 
 from London to see all the wonderful things at Borva." 
 
 If there was any embarrassment or blushing during that 
 simple ceremony it was not on the side of the Highland girl, 
 Tor she frankly shook hands with him and said, " Are you 
 very well?" 
 
 The second impression which Lavender gathered from her 
 was, that nowhere in the world was English pronounced so 
 beautifully as in the Island of Lewis. The gentle intonation) 
 with which she spoke was so tender and touching the slight 
 dwelling on the e in "very" and "well" seemed to have 
 such a sound of sincerity about it that he could have fancied 
 he had been a friend of hers for a lifetime. And if she said 
 "ferry" for "very," what then? It was the most beautiful 
 English he had ever heard. 
 
 The party now moved off toward the shore, above the long 
 white curve of which Mackenzie's house was visible. The 
 old man himself led the way, and had, by his silence, appar- 
 ently not quite forgiven his daughter for having been absent 
 from home when his guests arrived. 
 
 " Now, Sheila," said Ingram, " tell me all about yourself; 
 what have you been doing ?" 
 
 " This morning?" said the girl, walking beside him, with 
 ter hand laid on his arm, and with the happiest look on her 
 face. 
 
 "This morning, to begin with. Did you catch those fish 
 yourself ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, there was no time for that. And it was Mairi 
 and I saw a boat coming in, and it was going to Mevaig, 
 but we overtook it, and got some of the fish, and we thought 
 we should be back before you came. However, it is no mat- 
 ter since you are here. And you have been very well! And 
 did you see any differences in Stornoway when you came 
 over ?"' 
 
 Lavender began to think that Styornoway sounded ever so 
 much more pleasant than mere Stornoway. 
 
 " We had not a minute to wait in Stornoway. But tell 
 me, Sheila, all about Borva and yourself; that is better than 
 Stornoway. How are your schools getting on ? And have 
 you bribed or frightened all the children into giving up 
 
30 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Gaelic yet? How is John the Piper? and does the Fr&i 
 Church minister still complain of him ? And have you 
 caught any more wild ducks and tamed them ? And are 
 there any gray geese up at Lochan-Eilean ?" 
 
 " Oh, that is too many at once," said Sheila, laughing. 
 " But I am afraid your friend will find Borva very lonely 
 and dull. There is not much there at all, for all the lads are 
 away at the Caithness fishing. And you should have shown 
 him all about Stornoway, and taken him up to the castle and 
 the beautiful gardens." 
 
 "He has seen all sorts of castles, Sheila, and all sorts of 
 gardens in every part of the world. He has seen everything 
 to be seen in the great cities and countries that are only 
 names to you. He has traveled in France, Italy, Russia, 
 Germany, and seen all the big towns that you hear of in his- 
 tory." 
 
 " That is what I should like to do if I were a man,'' said 
 Sheila ; " and many and many a time I wished I had been a 
 man, that I could go to the fishing and work in the fields, 
 and, then, when I had enough money, go away and see other 
 countries and strange people." 
 
 " But if you were a man I should not have come all the 
 way from London to see you," said Ingram, patting the hand 
 that lay on his arm. 
 
 "But if I were a man," said the girl, quite frankly, "I 
 should go up to London to see you." 
 
 Mackenzie smiled grimly, and said, "Sheila, it is nonsense 
 you will talk." 
 
 At this moment Sheila turned around and said, " Oh, we 
 have forgotten poor Mairi. Mairi, why did you not leave the 
 fish for Duncan ? They are too heavy for you. I will carry 
 them to the house.'' 
 
 But Lavender sprang forward, and insisted on taking pos- 
 session -of the thick cord with its considerable weight of 
 lythe. 
 
 "This is my cousin, Mairi," said Sheila ; and forthwith the 
 young, fair-faced, timid-eyed girl shook hands with the gentle- 
 men, and said, just as if she had been watching Sheila, 
 "And are you ferry well, sir?" 
 
 For the rest of the way up to the house Lavender walked 
 by the side of Sheila ; and as the string of lythe had formed 
 the introduction to their talk, it ran pretty much upon natural 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 3! 
 
 history. In about five minutes she had told him more about 
 sea-birds and fish than ever he knew in his life ; and she 
 wound up this information by offering to take him out on 
 the following morning, that he might himself catch some lythe. 
 
 " But I am a wretchedly bad fisherman, Miss Mackenzie,*' 
 he said. " It is some years since I tried to tlvow a fly." 
 
 " Oh, there is no need for good fishing when you catch 
 lythe," she said earnestly. " You will see Mr. Ingram catch 
 them. It is only a big white fly you will need, and a long 
 line, and when the fish takes the fly, down he goes a great 
 depth. Then when you have got him and he is killed, you 
 must cut the sides, as you see that is done, and string him 
 to a rope and trail him behind the boat all the way home. 
 If you do not do that it is no use at all to eat. But if you 
 like the salmon-fishing my papa will teach you that. Thert 
 is no one," she added proudly, " can catch salmon like my 
 papa not even Duncan and the gentlemen who come in 
 the autumn to Stornoway, they are quite surprised when my 
 papa goes to fish with them." 
 
 " I suppose he is a good shot, too," said the young man, 
 amused to notice the proud way in which the girl spoke of 
 her father. 
 
 " Oh, he can shoot anything. He will shoot a seal if he 
 comes up but for one moment above the water; and all the 
 birds he will get you all the birds if you will wish to take 
 any away with you. We have no deer on the island it is 
 too small for that but in the Lewis and in Harris there are 
 many, many thousands of deer, and my papa has many in- 
 vitations when the gentlemen come up in the autumn ; and 
 if you look in the game-book of the lodges you will see there 
 is not any one who has shot so many deer as my papa not 
 any one whatever." 
 
 At length they reached the building of dark and rude 
 stone-work, with its red coping, its spacious porch, and its 
 small enclosure of garden in front. Lavender praised the 
 flowers in this enclosure; he guessed they were Sheila's par- 
 ticular care ; but in truth there was nothing rare or delicate 
 among the plants growing in this exposed situation. There 
 were a few clusters of large yellow pansies, a calceolaria or two, 
 plenty of wallflower, some clove-pinks, and an abundance of 
 sweet-william in all manner of colors. But the chief beauty 
 of the small garden was a magnificent tree-fuchsia which 
 
22 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 grew in front of one of the windows, and was covered with 
 deep rose-red flowers set amid its small and deep-green 
 leaves. For the rest, a bit of honeysuckle was turned up one 
 side of the porch, and at the small wooden gate there were 
 two bushes of sweetbrier that filled the warm air with fra- 
 grance. 
 
 Just before entering the house the two strangers turned to 
 have a look at the spacious landscape lying all around in the 
 perfect calm of a Summer day. And lo ! before them there 
 was but a blinding mass of white that glared upon their eyes, 
 and caused them to see the far sea and the shores and hills as 
 but faint shadows appearing through a silvery haze. A thin 
 fleece of cloud lay across the sun, but the light was neverthe- 
 less so intense that the objects near at hand a disused boat 
 lying bottom upward, an immense anchor of foreign make, 
 and some such things seemed to be as black as night as 
 they lay on the warm road. But when the eye got beyond 
 the house and the garden, and the rough hillside leading 
 down to Loch Roag, all the world appeared to be a blaze of 
 calm, silent and luminous heat. Suainabhal and its brother 
 mountains were only as clouds in the south. Along the west- 
 ern horizon the portion of the Atlantic that could be seen 
 lay like a silent lake under a white sky. To get any touch 
 of color they had to turn eastward, and there the sunlight 
 faintly fell on the green shores of Borva, on the narrows of 
 Loch Roag, and the loose red sail of a solitary smack that 
 was slowly coming round a headland. They could hear the 
 sound of the long oars. A pale line of shadow lay in the 
 wake of the boat, but otherwise the black hull and the red 
 sail seemed to be coming through a plain of molten silver. 
 When the young men turned to go into the house the hall 
 seemed a cavern of impenetrable darkness, and there was a 
 flush of crimson light dancing before their eyes. 
 
 When Ingram had his room pointed out Lavender followed 
 him into it and shut the door. 
 
 " By Jove, Ingram," he said, with a singular light of en- 
 thusiasm on his handsome face, "what a beautiful voice that 
 girl has ! I have never heard anything so soft and musical in 
 all my life, and then when she smiles what perfect teeth she 
 has ! And then, you know, there is an appearance, a style, 
 a grace about her figure but, I say, do you seriously meao 
 to tell me you are not in love with her?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 33 
 
 " Of course I am not," said the other, impatiently, as he 
 was busily engaged with his portmanteau. 
 
 "Then let me give you a word of information," said the 
 young man, with an air of profound shrewdness; " she is in 
 love with you." 
 
 Ingram rose with some little touch of vexation on his face ; 
 " Look here, Lavender, I am going to talk to you seriously. 
 I wish you wouldn't fancy that every one is in that condition 
 of simmering love-making you delight in. You never were in 
 love, I believe I doubt whether you ever will be but 
 you are always fancying yourself in love, and writing 
 very pretty verses about it and painting very pretty 
 heads. I like the verses and the paintings well enough, 
 however they are come by; but don't mislead yourself into 
 believing that you know anything whatever of a real or serious 
 passion by having engaged in all sorts of imaginative and 
 semi-poetical dreams. It is a much more serious thing than 
 that, mind you, when it comes to a man. And, for Heaven's 
 sake, don't attribute any of that sort of sentimental make- 
 believe to either Sheila Mackenzie or myself. We are not 
 romantic folks. We have no imaginative gifts whatever, but 
 we are very glad, you know, to be attentive and grateful to 
 those who have. The fact is, I don't think it quite fair 
 
 " Let us suppose I am lectured enough," said the other, 
 somewhat stiffly. " I suppose I am as good a judge of the 
 character of women as most other men, although I am no 
 great student, and have no hard and dried rules of philoso- 
 phy at my fingers' ends. Perhaps, however, one may learn 
 more by mixing with other people and going out into the 
 world, than by sitting in a room with a dozen of books, and 
 persuading one's self that men and women are to be studied in 
 that fashion." 
 
 " Go away, you stupid boy, and unpack your portmanteau, 
 and don't quarrel with me," said Ingram, putting out on the 
 table some things he had brought for Sheila; "and if you are 
 friendly with Sheila and treat her like a human being, instead 
 of trying to put a lot of romance and sentiment about her, 
 she will teach you more than you could learn in a hundred 
 drawing-rooms in a thousand years." 
 
34 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THERE WAS A KING IN THVLE. 
 
 He never took that advice. He had already transformed 
 Sheila into a heroine during the half hour of their stroll from 
 the beach and around the house. Not that he fell in love 
 with her at first sight, or anything even approaching to that. 
 He merely made her the central figure of a little speculative 
 romance, as he had made many another woman before. Of 
 course, in these little fanciful dramas, written along the sky- 
 line, as it were, of his life, he invariably pictured himself as 
 the fitting companion of the fair creatures he saw there. Who 
 but himself could understand the sentiment of her eyes, and 
 teach her little love-ways, and express unbounded admiration 
 of her? More than one practical young woman, indeed, in 
 certain circles of London society, had been informed by her 
 friends that Mr. Lavender was dreadfully in love with her; 
 and had been much surprised, after this confirmation of he-r 
 suspicions, that he sought no means of bringing the affair to 
 a reasonable and sensible issue. He did not even amuse hinv 
 self by flirting with her, as men would willingly do who could 
 not be charged with any serious purpose whatever. 
 
 His devotion was more mysterious and remote. A rumor 
 would get about that Mr. Lavender had finished another of 
 those charming heads in pastel, which, at a distance, re- 
 minded one of Greuze, and that Lady So-and-so, who had 
 bought it forthwith, had declared that it was the image of 
 this young lady, who was partly puzzled and partly vexed by 
 the incomprehensible conduct of her reputed admirer. It 
 was the fashion, in these social circles, to buy those heads of 
 Lavender when he chose to paint them. He had achieved 
 a great reputation by them. The good people liked to have 
 genius in their own set whom they had discovered, and who 
 was only to be appreciated by persons of exceptional taste 
 and penetration. Lavender, the uninitiated were assured, 
 was a most brilliant and cultivated young man. He had 
 composed some charming songs, he had written, from time 
 to time, some quite delightful little poems, over which fair 
 eyes had grown full and liquid. Who had not heard of 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 35 
 
 the face that he painted for a certain young lady whom 
 every one expected him to marry ? 
 
 The young man escaped a great deal of the ordinary con- 
 sequences of this petting, but not all. He was at bottom 
 really true-hearted, frank and generous generous even to an 
 extreme but he had a habit of producing striking impres- 
 sions which dogged and perverted his every action and speech. 
 He di- liked losing a few shillings at billiards, but he did not 
 mind losing a few pounds ; the latter was good for a story. 
 Had he possessed any money to invest in shares, he would 
 have been irritated by small rises or small falls ; but he would 
 have been vain of a big rise, and he would have regarded a 
 big fall with equanimity, as placing him in a dramatic light. 
 The exaggerations produced by this habit of his fostered 
 strange delusions in the minds of people who did not know 
 him very well : and sometimes the practical results, in the 
 way of expected charities or what not, amazed him. He 
 could not understand why people should have made such 
 mistakes, and resented them as an injustice. 
 
 And as they sat at dinner on this still, brilliant evening in 
 Summer, it was Sheila's turn to be clothed in the garments of 
 romance. Her father, with his great gray beard and heavy 
 brow, became the King of Thule, living in this solitary house 
 overlooking the sea, and having memories of a dead sweet- 
 heart. His daughter, the princess, had the glamor of a thou- 
 sand legends dwelling in her beautiful eyes; and when she 
 walked by the shores of the Atlantic, that were now getting 
 yellow under the sunset, what strange and unutterable 
 thoughts must appear in the wonder of her face! He remem- 
 bered no more how he had pulled to pieces Ingram's praises 
 of Sheila. What had become of the " ordinary young lady, 
 who would be a little interesting, if a little .stupid, before mar- 
 riage, and after marriage sink into the dull, domestic hind?" 
 There could be no doubt that Sheila often sat silent for a 
 considerable time, with her eyes fixed on her father's face 
 when he spoke, or turning to look at some other speaker. 
 Had Lavender now been asked if this silence had not a trifle 
 of dullness in it, he would have replied by asking if there 
 were dullness in the stillness and the silence of the sea. He 
 grew to regard her calm and thoughtful look as a sort of spell; 
 and if you had asked him what Sheila was like, he would 
 have answered by saying that^ there was moonlight in her face 
 
36 - A PRINCESS OF THULK. 
 
 The room, too, in which this mystic princess sat, was 
 strange and wonderful. There were no doors visible, for the 
 four walls were throughout covered by paper of foreign 
 manufacture, representing spacious Tyrolese landscapes and 
 incidents of the chase. When Lavender had first entered 
 this chamber his eye had been shocked by these coarse and 
 prominent pictures by the green rivers, the blue lakes and 
 the snow-peaks that rose above certain ruddy chalets. Here 
 a chamois was stumbling down a ravine, and there an oper- 
 atic peasant some eight or ten inches in actual length, was 
 pointing a gun. The large figures, the coarse colors, the 
 impossible scenes all this looked, at first sight, to be in the 
 worst possible taste, and Lavender was convinced that Sheila 
 had nothing to do with the introduction of this abominable 
 decoration. But somehow, when he turned to the line of 
 ocean that was visible from the window, to the lonely shores 
 of the island and the monotony of colors showing in the still 
 picture without, he began to fancy that there might be a 
 craving up in these latitudes for some presentation, however 
 rude and glaring, of the richer and more variegated life of 
 the South. The figures and mountains on the walls became 
 less prominent. He saw no incongruity in a whole chalet 
 giving way and allowing Duncan, who waited at table, 
 to bring from this aperture to the kitchen a steaming dish of 
 salmon, while he spoke some words in Gaelic to the servants 
 at the other end of the tube. He even forgot to be surprised 
 at the appearance of little Mairi, with whom he had shaken 
 hands a little while before, coming round the table with 
 potatoes. He did not, as a rule, shake hands with servant- 
 maids, but was not this fair-haired, wistful-eyed girl some 
 relative, friend or companion of Sheila's, and had he not al- 
 ready begun to lose all perception of the incongruous or the 
 absurd in the strange pervading charm with which Sheila's 
 presence filled the place? 
 
 He suddenly found Mackenzie's deep-set eyes fixed upon 
 him, and became aware that the old man had been mysteri- 
 ously announcing to Ingram that there were more political 
 movements abroad than people fancied. Sheila sat still and 
 listened to her father as he expounded these things, and 
 showed that, although at a distance, he could perceive the 
 signs of the times. Was it not incumbent, moreover, on 
 a man who had to look after a number of poor people and 
 simple folks, that he should b<2. on the alert ? 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 37 
 
 "It iss not bekass you will live in London you will know 
 everything," said the King of Borva, with a certain signifi- 
 cance in his tone. " There iss many things a man does not 
 see at his feet that another man will see who is a good way 
 off. The International, now " 
 
 He glanced furtively at Lavender. 
 
 " I hef been told there will be agents going out every 
 day to all parls of this country and other countries, and they 
 will hef plenty of money to live like gentlemen, and get 
 among the poor people, and fill their minds with foolish 
 nonsense about a revolution. Oh yes, I hear about it all, 
 and there iss many members of Parliament in it; and it is 
 every day they will get farther and farther, all working hard, 
 though no one sees them who does not understand to be on 
 the watch." 
 
 Here again the young man received a quiet, scrutinizing 
 glance; and it began to dawn upon him, to his infinite as- 
 tonishment, that Mackenzie half suspected him of being an 
 emissary of the International. In the case of any other 
 man he would have laughed and paid no heed, but how 
 could he permit Sheila's father to regard him with any such 
 suspicion ? 
 
 " Don't you think, sir," he said boldly, " that those Inter* 
 nationalists are a lot of incorrigible idiots?" 
 
 As if a shrewd observer of men and motives were to be 
 deceived by such a protest! Mackenzie regarded him with 
 increased suspicion, although he endeavored to conceal the 
 fact that he was watching the young man from time to time. 
 Lavender saw all the favor he had won during the day dis^ 
 appearing, and moodily wondered when he should have a 
 chance of explanation. 
 
 After dinner they went outside and sat down on a bench 
 in the garden, and the men lit their cigars. It was a cool 
 and pleasant evening. The sun had gone down in the red 
 fire behind the Atlantic, and there was still left a rich glow 
 of crimson in the West while overhead, in the pale yellow 
 of the sky, some filmy clouds of rose-color lay motionless. 
 How calm was the sea out there, and the whiter stretch of 
 water coming into Loch Roag! The cool air of the twilight 
 was scented with sweetbrier. The wash of the ripples along 
 the coast could be heard in the stillness. It was a time for 
 lovers to sit by the sea, careless of the future or the past. 
 
38 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 But why would this old man keep prating of his political 
 prophecies? Lavender asked of himself. Sheila had spoken 
 scarcely a word all the evening; and of what interest could it 
 be to her to listen to theories of revolution and the dangers 
 besetting our hot-headed youth ? She merely stood by the 
 side of her father, with her hand on his shoulder. He 
 noticed, however, that she paid particular attention whenever 
 Ingram spoke ; and he wondered whether she perceived that 
 Ingram was partly humoring the old man, at the same time 
 that he was pleasinp himself with a series of monologues, in- 
 terrupted only by his cigar. 
 
 " That is true enough, Mr. Mackenzie," Ingram, would say 4 
 laying back with his two hands clasped around his knee, as 
 usual; ''you've got to be careful of the opinions that are 
 spread abroad, even in B~rva, where not much danger is 
 to be expected. But I don't suppose our young men 
 are more destructive in their notions than young men 
 always have been. You know every fellow starts in life by 
 knocking down all the beliefs he finds before him, and then 
 spends the rest of his life in setting them up again. It is 
 only after some years he gets to know that all the wisdom of 
 the world lies in the old commonplaces he once despised. 
 He finds that the old familiar ways are the best, and he 
 sinks into being a commonplace person, with much satisfac- 
 tion to himself. My friend Lavender, now, is continually 
 charging me with being commonplace I admit the charge. 
 I have drifted back into all the old ways and beliefs about 
 religion and marriage, and patriotism, and what not that 
 ten years ago I should have treated with ridicule." 
 
 "Suppose the process continues ?" suggested Lavender, 
 with some evidence of pique. 
 
 " Suppose it does," continues Ingram carelessly. " Ten 
 years hence I may be proud to become a vestryman, and 
 have the most anxious care about the administration of the 
 rates. I shall be looking after the drainage of houses and 
 the treatment of paupers, and the management of Sunday- 
 schools but all this is an invasion of your province, Sheila, * 
 he suddenly added, looking up to her. 
 
 The girl laughed and said, " Then I have been common- 
 place from the beginning ?" 
 
 Ingram was about to make all manner of protests and 
 Apologies, when Mackenzie said, " Sheila, it wass time you 
 
A PRINCESS OP THTDT.E. 39 
 
 go in-doors, if you have nothing about your head. Go in 
 and sing a song to us, and we will listen to you; and not a 
 sad song, but a good merry song. These teffles of the fisher- 
 men, it iss always drownings they will sing about from the 
 morning till the night." 
 
 Was Sheila about to sing in this clear, strange twilight, 
 while they sat there and watched the yellow moon come up 
 behind the Southern hills? Lavender had heard so much 
 of her singing of these fishermen's ballads that he could 
 think of nothing more to add to the enchantment of this 
 wonderful night. But he was disappointed. The girl put 
 her hand on her father's head, and reminded him that she 
 had had her big greyhound, Bras, imprisoned all the after- 
 noon, that she had to go down to Borvapost, with a message 
 for some people who were leaving by the boat in the morn- 
 ing, and would the gentleman therefore excuse her not sing- 
 ing to them for this one evening ? 
 
 " But you cannot go away down to Borvapost by yourself, 
 Sheila," said Ingram. " It will be dark before you return." 
 " It will not be darker than this all the night through," said 
 the girl. 
 
 " But I hope you will let us go with you," said Lavender, 
 rather -anxiously; and she assented with a gracious smile, and 
 went to fetch the great deerhound that was her constant 
 companion. 
 
 And lo ! he found himself walking with a princess in the 
 wonderland through that magic twilight that prevails in 
 Northern latitudes. Mackenzie and Ingram had gone on in 
 front. The large deerhound, after regarding him attentively, 
 had gone to his mistress' side, and remained closely there. 
 Lavender could scarcely believe his ears that the girl was 
 talking to him lightly and frankly, as though she had known 
 him for years, and was telling him of all her troubles with 
 the folks at the Borvapost, and of those poor people whom 
 she was now going to see. No sooner did he understand that 
 they were emigrants, and that they were going to Glasgow 
 before leaving finally for America, than in quite an honest 
 and enthusiastic fashion he began to bewail the sad fate of 
 such poor wretches as have to forsake their native land, and 
 to accuse the aristocracy of the country of every act of self- 
 ishness, and to charge the Government of shameful indiffer- 
 ence. But Sheila brought him up suddenly. In the gentlest 
 
40 A PRINCESS OF THU1.E. 
 
 fashion she told him that she knew of these poor people, and 
 how emigration affected them, and so forth, until he was 
 ready to curse the hour in which he had blundered into 
 taking a side on a question about which he cared nothing 
 and knew less. 
 
 " But some other time," continued Sheila, " I will tell you 
 what we do here, and I will show you a great many letters 
 I have from friends of mine who have gone to Greenock and 
 to New York and Canada. Oh, yes, it is very bad for the 
 old people; they never get reconciled to the change never; 
 but it is very good for the young people, and they are glad 
 of it, and are much better off than they were here. You will 
 see how proud they are of the better clothes they have, and of 
 good food, and of money to put in the bank; and how could 
 they get that in the Highlands, where the land is so poor that 
 a small piece is no use, and they have not money to rent the 
 large sheep farms ? It is very bad to have people go away 
 it is very hard on many of them but what can they do ? 
 The piece of ground that was very good for the one family, 
 that is expected to keep the daughters when they marry, and 
 the sons when they marry, and then there are five or six 
 families to live on it. And hard work that will not do much 
 with very bad land and the bad weather we have here." The 
 people get downhearted when they have their crops spoiled 
 by the long rain, and they cannot get their peats dried; and 
 very often the fishing turns out bad, and they have no money 
 at all to carry on the farm. But now you will see Borvapost." 
 
 Lavender had to confess that this wonderful princess would 
 persist in talking in a very matter-of-fact way. All the after- 
 noon, while he was weaving a luminous web of imagination 
 around her, she was continually cutting it asunder, and step- 
 ping forth as an authority on the growing of some wretched 
 plants or the means by which rain was to be excluded from 
 window-sills. And now, in this strange twilight, when she 
 ought to have been singing of the cruelties of the sea or 
 listening to half-forgotten legends of mermaids, she was en- 
 gaged with the petty fortunes of men and girls who were 
 pleased to find themselves prospering in the Glasgow police 
 force or educating themselves in a milliner's shop in Edin- 
 burgh. She did not appear conscious that she was a prin- 
 cess. Indeed, she seemed to have no consciousness of herself 
 at all, and was altogether occupied in giving him information 
 
A PRINCESS OP THULE. 41 
 
 about practical subjects in which he professed a profound 
 interest he certainly did not feel. 
 
 But even Sheila, when they had reached the loftiest part 
 of their route, and could see beneath them the island and the 
 water surrounding it, was struck by the exceeding beauty of 
 the twilight, and as for her companion, he remembered it 
 many a time thereafter as if it were a dream of the sea. 
 Before them lay the Atlantic a pale line of blue, still, silent 
 and remote. Overhead, the sky was of a clear, pale gold, 
 with heavy masses of violet cloud stretched across from 
 North to South, and thickening as they got near to the 
 horizon. Down at their feet, near the shore, a dusky line of 
 huts and houses was scarcely visible, and over these lay a 
 pale blue film of peat-smoke that did not move in the still 
 air. Then they saw the bay into which the White Water 
 runs, and they could trace the yellow glimmer of the river 
 stretching into the island through a level valley of bog and 
 morass. Far away, toward the East, lay the bulk of the 
 island dark green undulations of moorland and pasture; 
 and there, in the darkness, the gable of one v/hite house had 
 caught the clear light of the sky, and was gleaming Westward 
 like a star. But all this was as nothing to the glory that 
 began to shine in the Southeast, whei e the sky was of a pale 
 violet over the peaks of Mclasabhal and Suainabhal. There, 
 into the beautiful dome, rose the golden crescent of the moon, 
 warm in color, as though it still retained the last rays of the 
 sunset. A line of quivering gold fell across Loch Roag, and 
 touched the black hull and spars of the boat in which Sheila 
 had been sailing in ihe morning. That bay down there, 
 with its white sands and massive rocks, its still expanse of 
 water and its background of mountain peaks palely colored 
 by the yellow moonlight, seemed really a home for a magic 
 princess who was shut off from all the world. But here, in 
 front of them, was another sort of sea and another sort of 
 life a small fishing village, hidden under a cloud of pale 
 peat-smoke, and fronting the great waters of the Atlantic it- 
 self, which lay under a gloom of violet clouds. 
 
 "Now, "said Sheila, with a smile, "we have not always 
 weather as good as this in the island, Will you not sit on 
 the bench over there with Mr. Ingram, and wait until my 
 papa and I come up from the village again ?" 
 
 "May not I go down with you?" 
 
42 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " No. The dogs would ream you were a stranger, and 
 there would be a great deal of noise, and there will be many 
 of the poor people asleep." 
 
 So Sheila had her way ; and she and her father went down 
 the hillside into the gloom of the village, while Lavender 
 went to join his friend Ingram, who was sitting on the 
 wooden bench silently smoking a clay pipe. 
 
 " Well, I have never seen the like of this," said Lavender, 
 in his impetuous way; "it is worth going a thousand miles 
 to see. Such colors and such clearness ! and then the splen- 
 did outlines of those mountains, and the grand sweep of this 
 loch ! This is the sort of thing that drives me to despair, 
 and might make one vow never to touch a brush again. 
 And Sheila says it will be like this all the night through." 
 
 He was unaware that he had spoken of her in a very- 
 familiar way, but Ingram noticed it. 
 
 " Ingram," he said, suddenly, " that is the first girl I have 
 ever seen whom I should like to marry." 
 
 " Stuff !" 
 
 " But it is true. I have never seen any one like her so 
 handsome, so gentle, and yet so very frank in setting you 
 right. And then she is so sensible, you know, and not too 
 proud to have much interest in all sorts of common af- 
 fairs" 
 
 There was a smile in Ingram's face, and his companion 
 stopped in some vexation: "You are not a very sympa- 
 thetic confidant." 
 
 " Because I know the story of old. You have told it me 
 about twenty women; and it is always the same. I tell you 
 you don't know anything at all about Sheila Mackenzie yet; 
 perhaps you never may. I suppose you will make a heroine 
 of her, and will fall in love with her for a fortnight, and 
 then go back to London and get cured by listening to the 
 witticisms of Mrs. Lorraine." 
 
 " Thank you very much.'' 
 
 " Oh, I didn't mean to offend you. Some day, no doubt, 
 you will love a woman for what she is, not for what you 
 fancy her to be ; but that is a piece of good fortune that sel- 
 dom occurs to a youth of your age. To marry in a dream, 
 and wake up six months af.erwards that is the fate of 
 ingenuous twenty-three. But don't you let Mackenzie hear 
 you talk of marrying Sheila, or he'll have some of his fisher- 
 men throw you into Loch &.* 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 43 
 
 " There, now, that ts one point I can't understand about 
 her," said Lavender, eagerly. " How can a girl of her 
 shrewdness and good sense have such a belief in that hum- 
 bugging old idiot of a father of hers, who fancies me a polit- 
 ical emissary, and plays small tricks to look like diplomacy ? 
 It is always ' My papa can do this,' and ' My papa can do 
 that,' and ' There is no one at all like my papa.' And she is 
 continually fondling him, and giving little demonstrations 
 of affection, of which he takes no more notice than if he 
 were an Arctic bear." 
 
 Ingram looked up with some surprise in his lace. " You 
 don't mean to say, Lavender," he said, slowly, ; - that you are 
 already jealous of the girl's own father?" 
 
 He could not answer, for at this moment Sheila, her father 
 and the big greyhound came up the hill. And again it was 
 Lavender's good fortune to walk with Sheila across the moor- 
 land path they had traversed some little time before. And 
 now the moon was still higher in the heavens, and the yellow 
 lane of light that crossed the violet waters of Loch Roag 
 quivered in a deeper gold. The night air was scented with 
 the Dutch clover growing down by the shore. They could 
 hear the curlew whistling and the plover calling amid that 
 monotonous plash of the waves that murmured all around the 
 coast. When they returned to the house the darker waters of 
 the Atlantic and the purple clouds of the West were shut out 
 of sight, and before them there was only the liquid plain ot 
 Loch Roag, with its pathway of yellow fire, and far away on 
 the other side the shoulders and peaks of the Southern moun 
 tains, that had grown gray and clear and sharp in the beau- 
 tiful twilight. And this was Sheila's home. 
 
44 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ROMAN CE -T IM E. 
 
 Early morning at Borva. fresh, luminous and rare ; the 
 mountains in the South grown pale and cloud-like under a 
 sapphire sky; the sea ruffled into a darker blue by a lignt 
 breeze from the west ; and the sunlight lying hot on the red 
 gravel and white shells around Mackenzie's house. There is 
 an odor of sweetbrier about, hovering in the warm, still air, 
 except at such times as the breeze freshens a bit, and brings 
 around the shoulder of the hill the cold, strange scent of the 
 rocks and the sea beyond. 
 
 And on this fresh and pleasant morning Sheila sat in the 
 big garden-seat in front of the house, talking to the stranger 
 to whom she had been introduced the day before. He was 
 no more a stranger, however, to all appearance, for what 
 could be more frank and friendly than their conversation, or 
 more bright and winning than the smile with which she fre- 
 quently turned to speak or to listen ? Of course, this stranger 
 could not be her friend as Mr. Ingram was that was impos- 
 sible. But he talked a great deal more than Mr. Ingram, 
 And was apparently more anxious to please and be pleased ; 
 and indeed was altogether very winning and courteous and 
 pleasant in his ways. Beyond this vague impression Sheila 
 ventwed upon no further comparison between the two men. 
 If her older friend had been down, she would doubtless have 
 preferred talking to him about all that had happened in the 
 island since his last visit; but here was this newer friend 
 thrown, as it were, upon her hospitality, and eager, with a 
 most respectful and yet simple and friendly interest, to be 
 taught all that Ingram already knew. Was he not, too, in 
 mere appearance like one of the princes she had read of in 
 many an ancient ballad tall and handsome and yellow- 
 haired, fit to have come sailing over the sea, with a dozen 
 merry comrades, to carry off some sea-king's daughter to be 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 45 
 
 his bride ? Sheila began to regret that the young man knew 
 so little about the sea and the Northern islands and those 
 old-time stories; but then he was very anxious to learn. 
 
 "You must say Mach-Klyoda instead of Macleod," she 
 was saying to him. " if you like Styornoway better than 
 Stornoway. It is the Gaelic, that is all." 
 
 " Oh, it is ever so much prettier," said young Lavender,! 1 
 with a quite genuine enthusiasm in his face, not altogether 
 begotten of the letter y\ "and, indeed, I don't think you 
 can possibly tell how singularly pleasant and quaint it is to 
 an English ear to hear just that little softening of the vowels 
 that the people have here, I suppose you don't notice that 
 they say gyarden, for garden 
 
 " They!" As if he had paid attention to the pronuncia- 
 tion of any one except Sheila herself. 
 
 " But not quite so hard as I pronounce it. And so with a 
 great many other words, that are softened and sweetened and 
 made almost poetical in their sound by the least bit of inflec- 
 tion. How surprised and pleased English ladies would be to 
 hear you speak! Oh! I beg your pardon I did not mean 
 to I I beg your pardon " 
 
 Sheila seemed a little astonished by her companion's evi- 
 dent mortification, and said with a smile, " If others speak so 
 m the island, of course I must too; and you say it does not 
 shock you." 
 
 His distress at his own rudeness now found an easy vent. 
 He protested that no people could talk English like tne peo- 
 ple of Lewis. He gave Sheila to understand that the speech 
 of English folks was as the croaking of ravens compared with 
 the sweet tones of the Northern isles; and this drew him on 
 to speak of his friends in the South, and of London, and the 
 chances of Sheila ever going thither. 
 
 "It must be so strange never to have seen London," he 
 said. " Don't you ever dream of what it is like ? Don't you 
 ever try to think of a great space, nearly as big as this island, 
 all covered over with large houses, the roads between the 
 houses all made of stone, and great bridges going over the 
 rivers, with railway trains standing? By the way, you have 
 never seen a railway engine? " 
 
 He looked at her for a moment in astonishment, as if he had 
 not hitherto realized to himsih" the absolute ignorance of the 
 remote princess. Sheila, wit'* some little touch of humor 
 
46' A PRINCESS OF THUI.E. 
 
 appearing in her calm eyes, said: " But I am not quite igno- 
 rant of all these things. I have seen pictures of them, and 
 my papa has described them so often that I will feel as if I 
 had seen them all; and I do not think that I should be sur- 
 prised, except, perhaps, by the noise of the big towns. It 
 was many a time my papa told me of that; but he says I can- 
 not understand it, nor the great distance of land you travel 
 over to get to London. That is what I do not wish to see. 
 I was often thinking of it, and that lo pass so many places 
 that you do not know would m Ae you very sad." 
 
 " That can be easily avoided," he said, lightly. " When 
 you go to London you must go from Glasgow or Edinburgh 
 in a night train, and fall fast asleep, and in the morning you 
 will find yourself in London, without having seen anything." 
 
 " Just as if one had gone across a great distance of sea, and 
 come to another island you will never see before," said 
 Sheila, with the gray-blue eyes under the black eyelashes 
 grown strange and distant. 
 
 " But you must not think of it as a melancholy thing," he 
 said, almost anxiously. " You will find yourself among all 
 sorts of gaities and amusements ; you will have cheerful 
 people around you, and plenty of things to see ; you will drive 
 in beautiful parks, and go-to theatres, and meet people in large 
 and brilliant rooms, filled with flowers, and silver, and light. 
 And all through the winter, that must be so cold and dark 
 up here, you will find an abundance of warmth and light, and 
 plenty of flowers, and every sort of pleasant thing. You will 
 hear no more of those songs of drowned people ; and you will 
 be afraid no longer of storms, or listen to the waves at night; 
 and by-and-by, when you have got quite accustomed to Lon- 
 don, and got a great many friends, you might be disposed to 
 stay there altogether ; and you would grow to think of this 
 island as a desolate and melancholy place, and never seek to 
 corne back." 
 
 The girl rose suddenly and turned to a fuchsia tree, pre- 
 tending to pick some of its flowers. Tears had sprung to her 
 eyes unbidden, and ic was in rather an uncertain voice that 
 she said, still managing to conceal her face: " I like to hear 
 you talk of those places, but but I will never leave Borva." 
 
 What possible interest could he have in combating this de- 
 cision so anxiously, almost so imploringly? He renewed hi* 
 complaints against the melancholy of the sea and the dreari- 
 
' A PRINCESS OF THULE. 47 
 
 necs of the Northern winters. He described again and again 
 the brilliant lights and colors of town life in the South. As 
 a mere matter of experience and education she ought to go to 
 London ; and had not her papa as good as intimated his in- 
 tention of taking her? 
 
 In the midst of these representations a step was heard in 
 the hall, and then the girl looked around with a bright light 
 on her face. 
 
 " Well, Sheila," said Ingram, according to his custom, and 
 both the girl's hands were in his the next minute, "you are 
 down early. What have you been about ? Have you been 
 telling Mr. Lavender about the Black Horse of Loch Suain- 
 abhal ?" 
 
 " No; Mr. Lavender has been telling me of London." 
 "And I have been trying to induce Miss Mackenzie to 
 pay us a visit, so that we may show her the difference be- 
 tween a city and an island. But all to no purpose. Miss 
 Mackenzie seems to like hard winters, and darkness, and 
 cold; and as for that perpetual and melancholy and cruel 
 ssa that in the winter time, I should fancy, might drive any- 
 body into a lunatic asylum " 
 
 " Ah, you must not talk badly of the sea," said the girl, 
 with all her courage and brightness returned to her face: 
 " It is our very good friend. It gives us food, and keeps 
 many people alive. It carries the lads away to other places, 
 and brings them back with money in their pockets " 
 
 " And sometimes it smashes a few of them on the rocks, 
 or swallows up a dozen families, and the next morning it is 
 as smooth and treacherous and fair as if nothing had hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " But that is not the sea at all," said Sheila; " that is the 
 storms that will wreck the boats; and how can the sea help 
 that ? When the sea is left alone the sea is very good to us." 
 Ingram laughed aloud and patted the girl's head fondly, 
 and Lavender, blushing a little, confessed he was beaten, 
 and that he would never again, in Miss Mackenzie's presence, 
 say anything against the sea. 
 
 The King of Borva now appearing, they all went in to 
 breakfast; and Sheila sat opposite the window, so that all the 
 light coming in from the clear sky and the sea was reflected 
 upon her face, and lit up every varying expression that 
 crossed it or that shone up in the beautiful deeps of her eyes. 
 
48 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Lavender, his own face in shadow, could look at he* from 
 time to time, himself unseen; and as he sat in almost abso- 
 lute silence, and noticed how she talked with Ingram, and 
 what deference she paid him, and how anxious she was to 
 please him, he began to wonder if he should ever be admit- 
 ted to a like friendship with her. It was so strange, too, that 
 this handsome, proud-featured, proud-spirited girl should sc 
 devote herself to the amusement of a man like Ingram, and, 
 forgetting all the court that should have been paid to a pret- 
 ty woman, seem determined to persuade him that he was con- 
 ferring a favor upon her by every word and look. Of course, 
 Lavenderadmitted to himself, Ingram was a very good sort 
 of a fellow a very good sort of a fellow, indeed. If any 
 one was in a scrape about money, Ingram would come to the 
 rescue without a moment's hesitation, although the salary of 
 a clerk in the Board of Trade might have been made the ex- 
 cuse, by any other man, for a very justifiable refusal. He was 
 very clever, too had read much, and all that kind of thing. 
 But he was not the sort of man you might expect to get on 
 well with women. Unless with very intimate friends he was 
 a trifle silent and reserved. Often he-was inclined to be prag- 
 matic and sententious, and had a habit of saying unpleasant- 
 ly better things when some careless joke was being made. 
 
 He was a little dingy in appearance, and a man who had a 
 somewhat cold manner, who was sallow of face, who was 
 obviously getting gray, and who was generally insignificant 
 in appearance, was not the sort of man, one would think, to 
 fascinate an exceptionally handsome girl, who had brains 
 enough to know the fineness of her own face. But here was thi* 
 princess paying attentions to him, such as must have driven 
 a more impressionable man our of his senses, while Ingram 
 sat quiet and pleased, s mietimes making fun of her, and gen- 
 erally talking to her a? if she were a child. Sheila had chatted 
 very pleasantly with him, Lavender, in the morning, but it 
 was evident that her relations with Ingram were of a very 
 different kind, such as he could not well understand. For it 
 was scarcely possible that she could be in love with Ingram, 
 and yet, sureiy the pleasure that dweit in her expressive 
 face, when she spoke to hiir or listened to him, was not the 
 result of a mere friendship. 
 
 If Lavender had been t<>H at that moment that these two 
 were lovers, and that they wt.r-> looking forward to an early 
 
A PRINCESS -OF THULE. 4 
 
 marriage, he would have rejoiced with an enthusiasm of joy. 
 He would have honestly and cordially shaken Ingram by the 
 hand; he would have made plans for introducing the young 
 bride to all the people he knew; and he would have gone 
 straight off, on reaching London, to buy Sheila a diamond 
 necklace, even if he had to borrow the money from Ingram 
 himself. 
 
 "And have you got rid of the Airgiod-cearc* Sheila?" 
 said Ingraru, suddenly breaking in upon these dreams; "or 
 does every owner of hens still pay his annual shilling to the 
 Lord of Lewis?" 
 
 " It is not away yet," said the girl, "but when Sir James 
 comes in the autumn I will go over to Stornoway and ask 
 him to take away the tax; and I know he will do it, for what 
 is the shilling worth to him, when he has spent thousands and 
 thousands of pounds on the Lewis? But it will be very hard 
 on some of the poor people that only keep one or two hens; 
 and I will tell Sir James of all that " 
 
 " You will do nothing of the kind, Sheila," said her father, 
 impatiently. " What is the Airgiod-cearc to you, that you 
 will go over to Stornoway only to be laughed at and make a 
 fool of yourself?" 
 
 " That is nothing not anything at all," said the girl, " if 
 Sir James will only take away the tax." 
 
 "Why, Sheila, they would treat you as another Lady 
 Godiva," said Ingram, with a good-humored smile. 
 
 " But Miss Mackenzie is qui'e right, "exclaimed Lavender, 
 "with a sudden flush of color leaping into his handsome face, 
 and an honest glow of admiration into his eyes. " I think it 
 is a very noble thing for her to do, and nobody, either in 
 Stornoway or anywhere else, would be such a brute as to 
 laugh at hr for trying to help those poor people, who have 
 not too many friends and defenders, God knows." 
 
 Ingram looked surprised. Since when had the young gen- 
 tleman across the table acquired such a singular interest in 
 the poorer classes, of whose very existence he had for the 
 most part seemed unaware ? But the enthusiasm in his face 
 seemed quite honest; there could be no doubt of that. As 
 for Sheila, with a beating heart she ventured to send to her 
 companion a brief and timid glance of gratitude, which the 
 young man observed, and never forgot. 
 
 * Pronounced Argyud-charkj literally, " hen money." 
 
$o A PRINCESS. OF THULE. 
 
 "You will not know what it is all about," said the King 
 of Borva, with a peevish air, as though it were too bad that a 
 person of his authority should have to descend to details 
 about a petty hen-tax. "It is many and many a tax and a 
 due Sir James will take away from his tenants in the Lewis, 
 and he will spend more money a thousand times than ever 
 he will get back; and it was this Airgwd-cearc, it will stand 
 in the place of a great many things taken away, just to re 
 mind the folk that they have not their land all in their own 
 right. It is many things you will have to do in managing 
 the poor people, not to let them get too proud, or forgetful 
 of what they owe to you; and now there is no more tacks- 
 men to be the masters of the small crofters, and the crofters 
 they would think they were landlords themselves if there 
 were no dues for them to pay." 
 
 "I have heard of those middlemen; they were dreadful 
 tyrants and thieves, weren't they ?" said Lavender. Ingram 
 kicked his foot under the table. " I mean, that was the popu- 
 ular impression of them a vulgar error, I presume," con- 
 tinued the young man, in the coolest manner. "And so you 
 have got rid of them? Well, I dare say many of them 
 were honest men, and suffered very unjustly in common re- 
 port." 
 
 Mackenzie answered nothing, but his daughter said quickly: 
 " But you know, Mr. Lavender, they have not gone away 
 merelv because they cease to have the letting of the land to 
 the crofters. They have still their old holdings, and so have 
 the crofters, in most cases. Every one now holds direct from 
 the proprietor, that is all. 1 ' 
 
 " So that there is no difference between the former tacks- 
 man ?nd his serf, except the relative size of their farms?" 
 
 "Well, the crofters have no leases, but thetacksmen have," 
 said the girl, somewhat timidly; and then she added: " But 
 you have not decided yet, Mr. Ingram, what you will do to- 
 day It is too clear for the salmon fishing. Will you go over 
 to Meavig and show Mr. Lavender the Bay of Uig and the 
 seven hunters ?" 
 
 "Surely we must show him Borvapost first, Sheila," said 
 Ingram. " He saw nothing of it last night in the dark, and 
 I think if you offered to take Mr. Lavender around in your 
 boat, and show him what a clever sailor you are, he would 
 prefer that to walking over the hill" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. jjj 
 
 " I can take you all around in the boat, certainly," said the 
 girl, with a quick blush of pleasure; and forthwith a mes- 
 sage was sent to Duncan that cushions should be taken down 
 to the Maighdean-mhara, the little vessel of which Sheila was 
 both skipper and pilot. 
 
 How beautiful was the fair sea-picture that lay around them 
 as the Maighdean-mhara stood out to the mouth of Loch 
 Roag on this bright Summer morning! Sheila sat in the 
 stern of the small boat, her hand on the tiller. Lufrath lay 
 at her feet, his nose between the long and shaggy paws. 
 Duncan, grave and watchful as to the wind and the points of 
 the coast, sat amidships, with the sheets of the mainsail held 
 fast, and superintended the seamanship of his young mis- 
 tress with a respectful but most evident pride. And as 
 Ingram had gone off with Mackenzie to. walk over the White 
 Water before going down to Borvapost, Frank Lavender was 
 Sheila's sole companion out in this wonderland of rock and 
 sea and blue sky. 
 
 He did not talk much to her, and she was so well occupied 
 with the boat that he could regard with impunity the shifting 
 lights and graces of her face and all the wonder and winning 
 depths of her eyes. The sea was blue around them; the 
 sky overhead had not a speck of cloud in it; the white sand- 
 bays, the green stretches of pasture and the far and spectral 
 mountains trembled in a haze of sunlight. Then there was 
 all the delight of the fresh and cool wind, the hissing of the 
 water along the boat, and the joyous rapidity with which 
 the small vessel, lying over a little, ran through the crisply 
 curling waters, and brought into view the newer wonders of 
 the opening sea. 
 
 Was it not all a dream, that he should be sitting by the 
 side of this sea-princess, who was attended only by her deer- 
 hound and the tall keeper? And if a dream, why should it 
 not go on forever? To live forever in this magic land to have 
 the princess herself carry him in this little boat into the quiet 
 bays of the islands, or out at night, in the moonlight, on the 
 open sea to forget forever the godless South and its social 
 phantasmagoria, and live in this beautiful and distant solitude, 
 with the solemn secrets of the hills and the moving deep for- 
 ever present to the imagination, might not that be a nobler 
 life? And some day or other he would take this island- 
 princess up to London, and he would bid the women that 
 
J2 A PRINCESS CF THULE. 
 
 he knew the scheming mothers and the doll-like daughters 
 stand aside from before this perfect work of God. She 
 would carry with her the mystery of the sea in the deeps of 
 her eyes, and the music of the far hills would be heard in 
 her voice, and all the sweetness and purity and brightness of 
 the clear Summer skies would be mirrored in her innocent 
 soul. She would appear in London as some wild-plumaged 
 bird hailing from distant climes, and before she had lived 
 there long enough to grow sad, and have the weight of the 
 city cloud the brightness of her eyes, she would be spirited 
 away again into thisstrange sea-kingdom, where there seeme'd 
 to be perpetual sunshine and the light music of the waves. 
 
 Poor Sheila ! She little knew what was expected of her, 
 or the sort of drama into which she was being thrown as a 
 central figure. She .little knew that she, a simple Highland 
 girl, was being transformed into a wonderful creature of 
 romance, who was to put to shame the gentle dames and 
 maidens of London society, and do many other extraordi- 
 nary things. But what would have appeared the most ex- 
 traordinary of all these speculations, if she had only known 
 of them, was the assumption that she would marry Frank 
 Lavender. That the young man had quite naturally taken 
 for granted ; but, perhaps, only as a basis for his imaginative 
 scenes. In order to do these fine things she would have to 
 be married to somebody, and why not to himself? Think 
 of the pride he would have in leading this beautiful girl, 
 with her quaint manners and fashion of speech, into a Lon- 
 don drawing-room! Would not every one wish to know her? 
 Would not everyone listen to her singing of those Gaelic 
 songs ? for, of course, she must sing well. Would not all 
 his artist friends be anxious to paint her? and she would go 
 to the Academy to convince the loungers there how utterly 
 the canvas had failed to catch the light and dignity and 
 sweetness of her face. 
 
 When Sheila spoke he started. 
 
 " Did you not see it?'* 
 
 " What ?" 
 
 " The seal; it rose for a moment just over there," said the 
 girl, with a great interest visible in her eyes. 
 
 The beautiful dreams he had been dreaming were consid- 
 erably shattered by this interruption. How could a fairy 
 princess be so interested in some common animal showing 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. g$ 
 
 its head out of the sea ? It also occurred to him, just at this 
 moment, that if Sheila and Mairi went out in this boat by 
 themselves, they must be in the habit of hoisting up the 
 mainsail; and was such rude and coarse work befitting the 
 character of a princess ? 
 
 " He looks very like a black man in the water, when his 
 head comes up," said Sheila "when the water is smooth, so 
 that you will see him look at you. But I have not told you 
 yet about the Black Horse that Alister-nan-Each saw at Loch 
 Suainabhal one night. Loch Suainabhal, that is inland and 
 fresh water so it was not a seal; but Alister was going along 
 the shore, and he saw it lying up by the road, and he looked 
 at it for a long time. It was quite black, and he thought it 
 was a boat; but when he came near, he saw it begin to move, 
 and then it went down across the shore, and splashed into 
 the loch. And it had a head bigger than a horse, and quite 
 black, and it made a noise as it went down the shore to the 
 loch." 
 
 " Don't you think Alister must have been taking a little 
 whisky, Miss Mackenzie ?'' 
 
 "No, not that, for he came to me just after he will see the 
 beast." 
 
 "And do you really believe he saw such an animal?" said 
 Lavender, with a smile. 
 
 " I do not know," said the girl, gravely. " Perhaps it 
 was only a fright, and he imagined he saw it; but I do 
 not know it is impossible there can be such an animal at 
 Loch Suainabhal. But that is nothing; it is of no conse- 
 quence. But I have' seen stranger things than the Black 
 Horse, that many people will not believe." 
 "May I ask what they are ? " he said, gently. 
 " Some other time, perhaps, I will tell you; but there is 
 much explanation about it, and, you see, we are going in to 
 Borvapost." 
 
 Was this, then, the capital of the small empire over which 
 the princess ruled? He saw before him but a long row of 
 small huts or hovels, resembling beehives, which stood above 
 the curve of a white bay, and at one portion of the bay was 
 a small creek, near which a number of large boats, bottom 
 upward, lay on the beach. What odd little dwellings those 
 were ! The walls, a few feet high, were built of rude blockj 
 of stone or slices of turf, and from those low supports rose a 
 
54 A fRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 rounded roof of straw, which was thatched over by a further 
 layer of turf. There were few windows, and no chimneys at 
 all not even a hole in the roof. And what was meant by 
 the two men, who, standing on one of the turf walls, were 
 busily engaged in digging into the rich brown and black 
 thatch and heaving it into a cart? Sheila had to explain to 
 him that while she was doing everything in her power to get 
 the people to suffer the introduction of windows, it was hope 
 less to think of chimneys; for by carefully guarding against 
 the egress of the peat smoke, it slowly saturated the thatch of 
 the roof, which at certain periods of the year was then taken 
 off to dress the fields, and a new roof of straw put on. 
 
 By this time they had run the Maighdean-mhara the "Sea 
 Maiden " into a creek, and were climbing up the steep beach 
 of shingle that had been worn smooth by the unquiet waters 
 of the Atlantic. 
 
 " And will you want to speak to me, Ailasa?" said Sheila, 
 turning to a small girl who had approached her somewhat 
 diffidently. 
 
 She was a pretty little thing, with a round, fair face, tanned 
 by the sun, brown hair and soft, dark eyes. She was bare- 
 headed, bare-footed and bare-armed, but she was otherwise 
 smartly dressed, and she held in her hand an enormous 
 flounder, apparently about half as heavy as herself. 
 
 " Will ye hef the fesh, Miss Sheila, 5 ' said the small Ailasa, 
 holding out the flounder, but looking down all the same. 
 
 " Did you catch it yourself, Ailasa?" 
 
 " Yes, it wass Donald and me; we wass out in a boat, and 
 Donald had a line." 
 
 " And it is a present for me ?" said Sheila, patting the 
 small head and its wild and soft hair. " Thank you, Ailasa. 
 But you must ask Donald to carry it up to the house and give 
 it to Mairi. I cannot take it with me just new, you know." 
 
 There was a small boy cowering behind one of the upturned 
 boats, and by his furtive peepings showing that he was in 
 league with his sister. Ailasa, not thinking that she was dis- 
 covering his whereabouts, turned quite naturally in that 
 direction, until she was suddenly stopped by Lavender, who 
 called to her and put his hand in his pocket. But he was 
 too late. Sheila had stepped in, and with a quick look, 
 which was all the protest that was needed, shut her hand 
 over the half crown he had in his fingers. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 55 
 
 " Never mind, Ailasa," she said. " Go away and get Don- 
 ald, and bid him carry the fish up to Mairi." 
 
 Lavender put up the half-crown in his pocket in a some- 
 what dazed fashion; what he chiefly knew was that Sheila 
 had for a moment held his hand in hers, and that her eyes 
 .had met his. 
 
 Well, that little incident of Ailasa and the flounder wa? 
 :ather pleasant to him. It did not shock the romantic 
 associations he had begun to weave around his fair companion. 
 But when they had gone up to the cottages Mackenzie and 
 Ingram not yet having arrived and when Sheiia proceeded 
 to tell him about the circumstances of the fishermen's lives, 
 and to explain how such and such things were done in the 
 fields and pickling-houses, and so forth, Lavender was a little 
 disappointed. Sheila took him into some of the cottages, or 
 rather hovels, and he vaguely knew in the darkness that she 
 sat down by the low glow of the peat-fire, and began to 
 ask the women about all sorts of improvements in the 
 walls and windows and gardens, and what not. Surely it 
 was not for a princess to go advising people about particular 
 sorts of soap, or offering to pay for a pane of glass if the hus- 
 band of the woman would make the necessary aperture in the 
 stone-wall. The picture of Sheila appearing as a sea-princess 
 in a London drawing-room was all very beautiful in its way, 
 but here she was discussing as to the quality given to broth 
 by the addition of a certain vegetable which she offered to 
 send down from her own garden, if the cottager in question 
 would try to grow it. 
 
 " I wonder, Miss Mackenzie," he said, at length, when they 
 got outside, his eyes dazed with the light and smarting with 
 the peat-smoke, "I wonder you can trouble yourself with 
 such little matters, that those people should find out for 
 themselves." 
 
 The girl looked up with some surprise: " That is the work 
 I have to do. My papa cannot do everything in the island." 
 
 " But what is the necessity for your bothering yourself 
 about such things? Surely they ought to be able to look 
 after their own gardens and houses. It is no degradation 
 certainly not; for anything you interested yourself in would 
 become worthy of attention by the very fact but, after all, 
 it seems such a pity you should give up your time to these 
 commonplace details," 
 
56 A PRINCESS or THULE. 
 
 " But some one must do it,'' said the girl, quite innocently, 
 " and my papa has no time. And they will be very good in 
 doing what I ask them everyone in the island.'' 
 
 Was this a willful affectation ? he said to himself. Or was 
 she really incapable of understanding that there was anything 
 incongruous in a young lady of her position, education and re- 
 imement busy ing herself with the curing of fish and the cost of 
 lime? He had himself marked the incongruity long ago, 
 when Ingram had been telling him of the remote and beau- 
 tiful maiden whose only notions of the world had been 
 derived from literature who was more familiar with the 
 magic land in which Endymion wandered than with any 
 other and that at the same time she was about as good as 
 her father at planning a wooden bridge over a stream. When 
 Lavender had got outside again when he found himself 
 walking with her along the white beach in front of the blue 
 Atlantic she was again the princtss of his dreams. He 
 looked at her face, and he saw in her eyes that she must be 
 familiar with all the romantic nooks and glades of English 
 poetry. The plashing of the waves down there and the 
 music of her voice recalled the sad legends of the fishermen 
 he hoped to hear her sing. But ever and anon there occurred 
 a jarring recollection whether arising from a contradiction 
 between his notion of Sheila and the actual Sheila, or 
 whether from some incongruity in itself, he did not stop to 
 consider. He only knew that a beautiful maiden who had 
 lived by the sea all her life, and who had followed the wan- 
 derings of Endymion in the enchanted forest, need not have 
 been so particular about a method of boiling potatoes, or 
 have shown so much interest in a pattern for children's frocks. 
 
 Mackenzie and Ingram met them. There was the usual 
 "' Well, Sheila?" followed by a thousand questions about the 
 very things she had heen inquiring into. That was one of 
 the odd points about Ingram that puzzled and sometimes 
 vexed Lavender ; for if you are walking home at night it is 
 inconvenient to be accompanied by a friend who would stop 
 lo ask about the circumstances of some old crone hobbling 
 along the pavement, or who could, on his own door-step, stop 
 co have a chat with a garrulous policeman. Ingram was 
 about as odd as Sheila herself in the attention he paid to 
 those wretched cotters and their doings. He could not 
 advise on the important subiect of broth, but he would have 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 57 
 
 tasted it by way of discovery, even if it had been presented 
 to him in a tea-cup. He had already been prowling around 
 the place with Mackenzie. He had inspected the apparatus 
 in the creek for hauling up the boats. He had visited the 
 curing houses. He had examined the heaps of fish drying on 
 the beach. He had drunk whisky with John the Piper and 
 shaken hands with Alister-nan-Each. And now he had come 
 to tell Sheila that the piper was bringing down luncheon 
 from Mackenzie's house, and that after they had eaten and 
 drunk on the white beach they would put out the Maighdean- 
 mhara once more to sea, and sail over to Mevaig, that the 
 stranger might see the wondrous sands of the Bay of Uig. 
 
 But it was not in consonance with the dignity of a king 
 that his guests should eat from off the pebbles, like so many 
 fishermen, and when Mairi and another girl brought down 
 the baskets, luncheon was placed in the stern of the small 
 vessel, while Duncan got up the sails and put out from the 
 stone quay. As for John the Piper, was he insulted for hav- 
 ing been sent on* a menial errand ? They had scarcely got 
 away from the shore when the sounds of the pipes were wafted 
 to them from the hillside above, and it was the " Lament 
 of Mackrimmon " that followed them out to sea : 
 
 Mackrimmon shall no more return, 
 Oh never, never mare return ! 
 
 That was the wild and ominous air that was skirling up on 
 the hillside; and Mackenzie's face, as he heard it, grew 
 wroth. " That teffle of a piper, John ! " he said, "will be play- 
 ing Cha till mi tuiligh ? " 
 
 "It is out of mischief, papa," said Sheila "that is all.'' 
 
 '' It will be more than mischief if I burn his pipes and 
 drive him out of Borva. Then there will be no more of 
 mischief." 
 
 " It is very bad of John to do that," said Sheila to Laven- 
 der, apparently in explanation of her father's anger, " for we 
 have given him shelter here when there will be no more pipes 
 in all the Lewis. It was the Free Church ministers, they put 
 down the pipes, for there was too much wildness at the mar- 
 riages when the pipes would play." 
 
 "And what do the people dance to now?" asked the 
 young gentleman, who seemed to resent this paternal govern- 
 ment. 
 
 laughed in an embarrassed way. 
 
58 A PRINCESS OF THULE, 
 
 "Miss Mackenzie would rather not tell you," said Ingram. 
 "The fact is, the noble mountaineers of these districts have 
 had to fall back on the Jew's harp. The ministers allow the 
 instrument to be used I suppose because there is a look of 
 piety in the name. But the dancing doesn't get very mad 
 when you have two or three young fellows playing a strath- 
 spey on a bit of a trembling wire." 
 
 " That teffle of a piper John !" growled Mackenzie, under 
 his breath; and so the Maighdean-mhara lightly sped on her 
 way, opening out the various headlands of the islands, until 
 at last she got into the narrows by Eilean-Aird-Meinish, and 
 ran up the long arm of the sea to Mevaig. 
 
 They landed and went up the rocks. They passed two or 
 three small white houses overlooking the still, green waters 
 of the sea, and then, following the line of a river, plunged 
 into the heart of a strange and lonely district, in which there 
 appeared to be no life. The river track took them up a 
 green glen, the sides of which were about as sheer as a rail- 
 way cutting. There were no trees or bushes about, but the 
 green pasture along the bed of the valley wore its brightest 
 colors in the warm sunlight, and far up on the hillsides tne 
 browns and crimsons of the heather and the silver gray 
 of the rocks trembled in the white haze of the heat. Over 
 that again the blue sky, as still and silent as the world below. 
 
 They wandered on, content with idleness and a fine day. 
 Mr. Mackenzie was talking with some little loudness, so that 
 Lavender might hear, of Mr. John Stuart Mill, and was anx- 
 ious to convey to Ted Ingram that a wise man, who is respon- 
 sible for the well-being of his fellow creatures, will study all 
 sides of all questions, however dangerous. Sheila was doing 
 her best to entertain the stranger, and he, in a dream of his 
 own, was listening to the information she gave him. How 
 much of it did he carry away? He was told that the gray 
 goose built its nest in the rushes at the edge of lakes; Sheila 
 knew several nests in Borva. Sheila also caught the young 
 of the wild duck when the mother was guiding them down 
 the hill-rivulets to the sea. She had tamed many of them, 
 catching them thus before they could fly. The names of 
 most of the mountains about here ended in bhal, which was 
 a Gaelic corruption of the Norse fiall, a mountain. There 
 were many Norse names all through the Lewis, but more par 
 ticularly towards the But, The termination bost, for e# 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. gg 
 
 ample, at the end of many words, meant an inhabited place, 
 but she fancied bost was Danish. And did Mr. Lavender 
 know ot the legend connected with the air of Cha till, cha 
 till mi luille ? 
 
 Lavender started as from a trance, with an impression that 
 he' had been desperately rude. He was about to say that 
 the gray gosling in the legend could not speak Scandinavian, 
 when he was interrupted by Mr. Mackenzie turning and ask- 
 ing him if he knew from what ports the English smacks 
 hailed that came up hither to the cod and the ling fishing for 
 a couple of months in the autumn. The young man said he 
 did not know. There were many fishermen at Brighton. 
 And when the King of Borva turned to Ingram, to see why 
 he was shouting with laughter, Sheila suddenly announced to 
 the party that before them lay the gteat Bay of Uig. 
 
 It was certainly a strange and imp-essive scene. They 
 stood on the tup of a lofty range of hills, and underneath 
 them lay a vast semicircle, miles in extent, of gleaming white 
 sand, that had in by-gone ages been washed in by the Atlantic. 
 Into this vast plain of silver whiteness the sea, entering by a 
 somewhat narrow portal, stretched in long arms of a pale 
 blue. Elsewhere the great crescent of sand was surrounded 
 by a low line of rocky hill, showing a thousand tints of olive- 
 green and gray and heather purple; and beyond that again 
 rose the giant bulk of Mealasabhal, grown pale in the heat, 
 into the Southern sky. There was not a ship visible along 
 the blue plain of the Atlantic. The only human habitation 
 to be seen in the strange world beneath them was a solitary 
 manse. But away toward the summit of Mealasabhal two 
 specks slowly circled in the air, which Shiela thought were 
 eagles; and far out on the Western sea, lying like dusky 
 whales in the vague blue, were the Plada Islands the remote 
 and unvisited Seven Hunters whose only inhabitants are 
 certain flock? of sheep belonging to dwellers on the main 
 land ot Lewis. 
 
 The travelers sat down on a low rock of gneiss to rest 
 themselves, and then and there did the King of Borva recite 
 h ; s grievances and rage against the English smacks. Was it 
 not enough that they should in passing steal the sheep, but 
 that they should also, in mere, wantonness, stalk them as 
 dter, wounding them with rifle bullets, and leaving them to 
 die among the rocks. Sheila said_bravely that no one could 
 
3d A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 tell that it was the English fishermen who did that. Why 
 not the crews of merchant vessels, who might be of any na- 
 tion? It was unfair to charge upon any body of men such a 
 despicable act, when there was no proof of it whatever. 
 
 "Why, Sheila," said Ingram, with some surprise, "you 
 never doubted before that it was the English smacks that 
 killed the sheep." 
 
 Sheila cast down her eyes and said nothing. 
 
 Was the sinister prophecy of John the Piper to be fulfilled? 
 Mackenzie was so much engaged in expounding politics to 
 Ingram, and Sheila was so proud to show her companion all 
 the wonders of Uig, that when they returned to Mevaig in 
 the evening the wind had altogether gone down and the sea 
 was as a sea of glass. But if John the Piper had been ready 
 to foretell for Mackenzie the fate of Mackrimmon, he had 
 taken means to defeat destiny by bringing over from Borva- 
 post a large and heavy boat pulled by six rowers. These 
 were not strapping young fellows, clad in the best blue cloth 
 to be got in Stornoway, but elderly men, gray, wrinkled, 
 weather-beaten and hard of face, who sat stolidly in the boat 
 and listened with a sort of bovine gaze to the old hunch- 
 back's wicked stories and jokes. John was in a mischievous 
 mood, but Lavender, in a confidential whisper, informed 
 Sheila, that her father would speedily be avenged on the in- 
 considerate piper 
 
 " Come, men, sing us a song, quick!" said Mackenzie, as 
 the party took their seats in the stern and the great oars 
 sp'ashed into the sea of gold. " Look sharp, John, and no 
 teflle of a drowning song!" 
 
 In a shrill, high, querulous voice the piper, who was him- 
 self pulling one of the two stroke oars, began to sing, and 
 then the men behind him gathering courage, joined in an 
 octave lower, their voices being even more uncertain and 
 lugubrious than his own. These poor fishermen had not had 
 the musical education of Clan-Alpine's warriors. The per- 
 formance was not enlivening, and as the monotonous and 
 melancholy sing-song that kept time to the oars told its story 
 in Gaelic, all that the English strangers could make out was 
 an occasional reference to Jura or Scarba or Isla. It was, 
 indeed, the song of an exiie shut up in "sea-worn Mull,'' 
 who was complaining of the wearisome look of the neighbor- 
 ing islands. 
 
A TALE OF MOROCCO. 6 I 
 
 "But why do you sing such Gaelic as that, John?" said 
 young Lavender, confidently. "I. should have thought a 
 man in your position the last of the Kebridean bards Would 
 have known the classical Gaelic. Don't you know the classi- 
 -i.l Gaelic?" 
 
 fi There iss only the wan sort of Kallic, and it is a ferry goot 
 sort of Kallic, ' said the piper, with some show of petulance. 
 
 "Do you mean to. tell me you don't know your own 
 tongue ? Do you not know what the greatest of all the bards 
 wrote about your own island ? ' O et presidium et dulce 
 decus meum, agus, Tityre tu catulae recubans sub tegmine 
 Styornoway, Anna virumque cano, Macklyoda et Borvapost 
 sub tegmine fagi ?' " 
 
 Not only John the Piper, but all the men behind him, 
 began to look amazed and sorely troubled ; and all the more 
 so that Ingram who had picked up more Gaelic words than 
 his friend came to his assistance, and began to talk to him 
 in this unknown tongue. They heard references in the con- 
 versation to persons and things with which they were familiar 
 in their own language, but still accompanied by much mere 
 they could not understand. 
 
 Tne men now began to whisper awe-stricken questions to 
 each other, and at last John the Piper could not restrain 
 his curiosity. "What in the name of Kott is tat sort cf 
 Kallic?" he asked, with some look of fear in his eyes. 
 
 " You are not such a student, John," said Lavender, care- 
 lessly, " but still a man in your position should know some- 
 thing of your own language. A bard, a poet, and not know 
 the classical form of your own tongue !" 
 
 "Is it ta Welsh Kallic?" cried John, in desperation, for 
 he knew that the men behind him would carry the story of 
 his ignorance all over Borvapost. 
 
 "The Welsh Gaelic? No. I see you will have to go to 
 school again/' 
 
 " There iss no more Kallic in ta schools," said the piper, 
 eagerly seizingthe excuse. " It iss Miss Sheila; she will hef 
 put away all ta Kallic from ta schools." 
 
 "But you were born half a century before Miss Sheila; 
 how is it that you neglected to learn that form of Gaelic th.it 
 has been sacred to the use of the bards and poets since the 
 time of Ossian ?" 
 
 There were no more quips or cranks fcr John the Pipt! 
 
62 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 during the rest of the pull home. The wretched man re- 
 lapsed into a moody silence and worked methodically at his 
 oar, brooding over this mysterious language of which he had 
 not even heard. As for Lavender, he turned to Mackenzie 
 and begged to know what he thought of affairs in France. 
 
 And so they sailed back to Borvapost over the smooth 
 water that lay like a lake of gold. Was it not a strange sight 
 to see the Atlantic one vast and smooth yellow plain under 
 the great glow of saffron that spread across the regions of 
 the sunset ? It was a world of light, unbroken but by the 
 presence of a heavy coaster that had anchored in the Bay, 
 and that sent a long line of trembling black down on the 
 perfect mirror of the sea. As they got near the shore, the 
 portions that were in shadow showed with a strange distinct-' 
 ness the dark green of the pasture and the sharp outlines of 
 the rocks ; and there was a cold scent of sea-weed in the 
 evening air. The six heavy oars plashed into the smooth 
 bay. The big boat was moored to the quay, and its passen- 
 gers landed once more in Borva. And when they turned, 
 on their way home, to look from the brow of the hill, on 
 which Sheila had placed a garden seat, lo! all the West was 
 on fire, the mountains in the South had grown dark on their 
 Eastern side, and the plain of the sea was like a lake of 
 blood, with the heavy hull and masts of the coaster grown 
 large and solemn and distant. There was scarcely a ripple 
 around the rocks at their feet to break the stillness of the 
 approaching twilight. 
 
 So another day had passed, devoid of adventure or inci- 
 dent. Lavender had not rescued his wonderful princess 
 from an angry sea, nor had he shown prowess in slaying a 
 dozen stags, nor in any way distinguished himself. To all 
 outward appearance the relations of the party were the same 
 at night as they had been in the morning. But the greatest 
 crises of life steal on us imperceptibly, and have some- 
 times occurred and wound us in their consequences before 
 we know. The memorable things in a man's career are not 
 always marked by some sharp convulsion. The youth does 
 not necessarily marry the girl whom he happens to fish out of 
 a mill-pond ; his life may be far more definitely shaped for 
 him at a prosaic dinner-table, where he fancies he is only 
 thinking of the wines. We are indeed but as children 
 seated on the shore, watching the ripples that come on to 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 our feet; and while the ripples unceasingly repeat them- 
 selves, and while the hour that passes is but as the hour 
 before it, constellation after constellation has gone by over 
 our heads unheeded, and we wake with a start to find our- 
 selves in a new day, with all our former life cut off from us 
 and become as a dream. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SHEILA SINGS. 
 
 A knocking at Ingram's door. 
 
 "Well, what's the matter?" 
 
 " Will ye be goin' to ta fishin', Mr. Ingram?" 
 
 " Is that you, Duncan ? How the devil have you got 
 over from Mevaig at this hour of the morning ?" 
 
 " Oh, there wass a bit breeze tis morning, and I hef 
 prought over ta Maighdean-mhara. And there iss a very 
 good ripple on ta water, if you will tak ta other gentleman 
 to try for ta salmon." 
 
 All right. Hammer at his door until he gets up. I shall 
 be ready in ten minutes." 
 
 About half an hour thereafter the two young men were 
 standing at the front of Mackenzie's house examining the 
 enormous rod that Duncan had placed against the porch. 
 It was still early morning, and there was a cold wind blowing 
 in from the sea, but there was not a speck of cloud in the 
 sky, and the day promised to be hot. The plain of the At- 
 lantic was no longer a sheet of glass; it was rough and gray, 
 and far out an occasional quiver of white showed where a 
 wave was hissing over. There was not much of a sea on, but 
 the heavy wash of the water around the rocks and sandy 
 bays could be distinctly heard in the silence of the morning. 
 
 And what was this moving object down there by the shore 
 where the Maighdean-mhara lay at anchor? Both the young 
 men at once recognized the glimmer of the small white 
 feather and the tightly-fitting blue dress of the sea-princess. 
 
 " Why, there is Sheila !' J cried Ingram. " What in all 
 the world is she about at such an hour ?" 
 
 At this moment Duncan came out with a book of flies in 
 his hand, and he said in rather a petulant way, " And it iss 
 no wonder Miss Sheila will be out. And it was Miss Sheila. 
 
64 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 herself will tell me to see if you will go to ta White Water and 
 try for a salmon." 
 
 " And she is bringing up something from the boat; I must 
 go and carry it for her," said Lavender, making down tne 
 path to the shore with the speed of a deer. 
 
 When Sheila and he came up the hill, there was a fine color 
 in the girl's face from her morning's exertions, but she was 
 (not disposed to go in-doors to rest. On the contrary, she 
 was> soon engaged in helping Mairi to bring in some coffee 
 to the parlor, while Duncan cut slices of ham and cold beef 
 big enough to have provisioned a fishing-boat bound for 
 Caithness. Sheila had had her breakfast; so she devoted all 
 her time to waiting upon her guests, until Lavender could 
 scarcely eat through the embarrassment produced by her noble 
 servitude. Ingram was not so sensitive, and made a very 
 good meal indeed. 
 
 " Where's your father, Sheila ?" said Ingram, when the last 
 of thtir preparations had been made and they were about to 
 start for the river " Isn't he up yet?" 
 
 "My father?" said the girl, with the least possible eleva- 
 tion of her eyebrows ' he will be down at Borvapost an 
 hour ago. And 1 hope that John the Piper will not see him 
 this morning. But we must make haste, Mr. Ingram, for the 
 wind will fall when the sun gets stronger, and then your 
 friend will have no more of the fishing." 
 
 So they set out, and Ingram put Sheila's hand on his arm, 
 and took her along with him in that fashion, while the tall 
 gillie walked behind with Lavender, who was or was not 
 pleased with the arrangement. The young man, indeed, was 
 a trifle silent, but Duncan was in an amiable and communi- 
 cative mood, and passed the time in telling him stories of the 
 salmon he had caught, and of the people who had tried to catch 
 them and failed. Sheila and Ingram certainly went a good 
 pace up the hill and around the summit of it, and down 
 again into the valley of the White Water The light step of 
 the girl seemed to be as full of spring as the headier on 
 which she trod; and as for her feet getting wet, the dew 
 must have soaked them long ago. She was in the brightest 
 of spirits. Lavender c^uld hear her laughing in alow, pleased 
 fashion, and then presently her head would be turned up to- 
 ward her companion, and all the light of some humorous an- 
 ecdote would appear in her face and in her eloquent eyes, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 65 
 
 and it would be Ingram's turn to break out into one of those 
 short, abrupt laughs that had something sardonic in them. 
 
 But hark ! From the other s'de of the valley comes anoth- 
 er sound, the faint and distant skirl of the pipes, and yonder 
 is the white-haired hunchback, a mere speck in a waste of 
 brown and green morass. What is he playing to himself now? 
 
 " He is a foolish fellow, that John," said the tall keeper, 
 ' :< for if he comes down to Borvapost this morning, it iss Mr. 
 Mackenzie will fling his pipes in ta saa, and he will haf to go 
 away and work in ta steamboat. He iss a very foolish fellow; 
 and it wass him tat wass goin' in ta steamboat before, and he 
 went to a tailor in Styornoway, and he said to him, ' I want a 
 pair o' troosers.' And the tailor said to him, ' What sort o' 
 troosers iss it you wi.l want?' And he said to him, 'I want 
 a pair o' troosers Lr a steamboat.' A pair o' troosers for a 
 steamboat ! he is a teffle of a foolish fellow. And it wass 
 him that went in ta steamboat with a lot o' freens o' his, that 
 wass a goin' to Skye to a big weddin* there; and it wass a 
 very bad passage, and when tey got into Portree, the captain 
 said to him, ' John, where iss all your freens that tey do not 
 come ashore ? ' And he said to him, ' I hef peen down below, 
 sir, and four-thirds o' ta whole o' them are a' half-troonded 
 and sick and tead.' Four-thirds o'ta whole o'them! And he 
 iss just the ferry man to laugh at every other pody when it iss 
 a mistake you will make in ta English." 
 
 " I suppose," said Lavender, "you found it rather difficult 
 to learn good English ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I hefna got ta good English yet. But Miss 
 Sheila she has put away all the Gaelic from the schools, and 
 the young ones they will learn more of ta good English after 
 that." 
 
 ' ' I wish I knew as much Gaelic as you know English," 
 said the young man. 
 
 " Oh, you will soon learn. It iss ferry easy if you will only 
 stay in ta island.'' 
 
 "It would take me several months to pick it up, I sup- 
 pose ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes nine or six that will do,'' said Duncan. 
 " You will begin to learn ta names o' ta Islands and ta places. 
 There now, as far as you can see is ta Seann Bheinn ; and it 
 means ta old hill. And there is a rock there j it is Stac-naa- 
 
66 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Here Duncan looked rather perplexed, 
 
 " Yes," said Lavender; " what does that mean ?" 
 
 "It means it means," said Duncan, in still greater per- 
 plexity, and getting a little impatient, " it means stac, tat 
 iss a steep rock ; Stac-nan-Balg it means well, sir, it is ower 
 deep for ta English." 
 
 The tone of mortification in which Duncan uttered these 
 words warned Lavender that his philological studies might 
 as well cease; and indeed ou^Lu and Ingram had by this 
 time reached the banks of the White Water, and were wait- 
 ing Duncan and his majestic rod. 
 
 It was much too bright and pleasant a morning for good 
 fishing, but there was a fair ripple on the pools of the stream 
 where ever and anon a salmon fresh run from the sea would 
 leap into the air, showing a gleaming curve of silver to the 
 sunlight. The splash of the big fish seemed an invitation, 
 and Duncan was all anxiety to teach the stranger, who, as he 
 fancied, knew nothing about throwing a fly. Ingram lay 
 down on a rock some little distance back from the banks, 
 and put his hands beneath his head and watched the opera- 
 tions going forward. But was it really Duncan who was to 
 teach the stranger ? It was Sheila who picked out flies for 
 him. It was Sheila who held the rod while he put them on 
 the line. It was Shelia who told where the bigger salmon 
 usually lay under the opposite bank of the broad and almost 
 lake-like pool into which the small but rapid White Water 
 came tumbling and foaming down its narrow channel of 
 rocks and stones. 
 
 Then Sheila waited to see her pupil begin. He had evi- 
 dently a little difficulty about the big double-handed rod, a 
 somewhat more formidable engine of destruction than the 
 supple little thing with which he had whipped the streams of 
 Devonshire and Cornwall. 
 
 The first cast sent both flies and a lump of line tumbling 
 on to the pool, and would have driven the boldest of salmon 
 out of its wits. The second pretty nearly took a piece out of 
 Ingram's ear, and made him shift his quarters with rapidity. 
 Duncan gave him up in despair. The third cast dropped 
 both flies with the lightness of a feather in the running 
 waters of the other side of the pool; and the next second 
 there was a slight wave along the surface, a dexterous jerk 
 with the butt, and presently the line was whirled out into ths 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 67 
 
 middle of the pool, running rapidly off the reel from the 
 straining rod. 
 
 " Plenty o' line, sir, plenty o' line!" shouted Duncan, in 
 a wild fever of anxiety, for the fish had plunged suddenly, 
 
 Ingram had come running down to the bank. Sheila was 
 all excitement and interest as she stood and watched every 
 slackening or tightening of the line as the fish went up the 
 pool and down the pool, and crossed the current in his efforts 
 to escape. The only self-possessed person, indeed, was 
 Lavender himself, who presently said, "Miss Mackenzie, 
 won't you take the rod now and have the honor of landing 
 him? I don't think he will show much more fight." 
 
 At this moment, however, the line slackened suddenly, 
 and the fish threw himself clean out of the water, turning a 
 complete somersault. It was a dangerous moment, but the 
 captive was well hooked, and in his next plunge Lavender 
 was admonished by Duncan to keep a good strain on him. 
 
 "I will take the second one," Sheila promised, "if you 
 like; but you must surely land your first salmon yourself." 
 
 I suppose nobody but a fisherman can understand the 
 generosity of the offer made by the young man. To have 
 hoofccd your first salmon to have its first wild rushes and 
 plunges safely over and to offer to another the delight of 
 bringing him victoriously to bank! But Sheila knew. And 
 what could have surpassed the cleverness with which he had 
 hooked the fish, and the coolness and courage he showed 
 throughout the playing of him, except this more than royal 
 offer on the part of the young hero ? 
 
 The fish was losing strength. All the line had been got in, 
 although the forefinger of the fisherman felt the pulse of his 
 captive, as it were, ready for any expiring plunge. They 
 caught occasional glimpses of a large white body gliding 
 through the ruddy-brown water. Duncan was down on his 
 knees more than once, with the landing-net in his hand, but 
 again and again the big fish would sheer off, with just such 
 indications of power as to make his conqueror cautious. At 
 length he was guided slowly in to the bank. Behind him the 
 landing-net was gently let into the water then a quick for- 
 ward movement, and a fourteen pounder was scooped up and 
 flung upon the bank, landing-net and all. "Hurrah!" cried 
 Ingram, and Lavender blushed like a school-girl; and Sheila, 
 quite naturally and without thinking, shook hands with him 
 
68 / 
 
 and said, "I congratulate you;" and there was more con- 
 gratulation in her glad eyes than in that simple little gesture. 
 
 It was a good beginning, and of course the young man v,v 
 very much pleased to show Sheila that he was no mere lil>- 
 fingered idler about town. He buckled to his work in earnest. 
 With a few more casts he soon got into the way of managing 
 the big rod; and every time the flies fell lightly on the other 
 side of the pool, to be dragged with gentle jerks across the 
 foaming current of the stream. Ingram went back to his 
 couch on the rock. He lay and wa'ched the monotonous 
 flinging back of the long rod, the light whistle of the line 
 through the air, and the careful manipulation of the flies 
 through the water. Or was it something else that he was 
 watching something that awakened in his mind a sudden 
 sense of surprise and fear, and a new and strange conscious- 
 ness that he had been guiltily remiss ? 
 
 Sheila was wholly pre-occupied with her companion and his 
 efforts. He had had one or two rises, but had struck either 
 too soon or too late, until at last there was a terrific 
 plunge and rush, and again the line was whirled out. Bu. 
 D'mcan did not like the look of it somehow. The fish had 
 been sheering off when it was hooked, and the deep plunge 
 at the outset was ugly. 
 
 " Now will you take the rod ?" said Lavender to Sheila 
 
 But before she could answer the fish had come rushing up 
 to the surface, and had thrown itself out of the water, so that 
 it fell on the opposite bank. It was a splendid animal, and 
 Duncan, despite his doubts, called out to Lavender to slacken 
 his hold. There was another spring into the air, the fish fell 
 with a splash into the water, and the line was flying help- 
 lessly into the air with the two fl : es floating about. 
 
 " Ay," said Duncan, with a sigh, "it wass foul-hooked- 
 it wass no chance of catching him whatever." 
 
 Lavender was most successful next time, however, with a 
 pretty little grilse of about half a dozen pounds, that seemed 
 to have in him the spirit and fight of a dozen salmon. How 
 he rushed and struggled, how he plunged and sulked, how 
 he burrowed along the banks, and then ran out to the middle 
 of the pool, and then threw himself into the air, with the 
 line apparently, but not really, doubling up under him. Ali 
 these things can only be understood by the fisherman who 
 has played in a Highland stream a wild and powerful little 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 69 
 
 grisle fresh in from the salt water. And it was Sheila who 
 held him captive, who humored him when he sulked, and 
 gently guided him away from dangerous places, and kept 
 him well in hand when he tried to cross the current, until at 
 last, all the fierceness gone out of him, he let himself be ten- 
 derly inveigled into the side of the pool, where Duncan, by 
 a dexterous movement, surrounded him with network and 
 placed his shining body among the bright green grass. 
 
 But Ingram was not so overjoyed this time. He compli- 
 mented Sheila in a friendly way, but he was rather grave, 
 and obviously did not care for this business of fishing. And 
 so Sheila, fancying that he was rather dull because he was 
 not joining in the sport, proposed tnat he should walk back 
 to the house with her, leaving Mr. Lavender with Duncan. 
 And Ingram was quite ready to do so. 
 
 But Lavender protested that he cared very little for sal- 
 mon-fishing. He suggested that they should all go back to- 
 gether. The sun was killing the wind, and soon the pools 
 would be as clear as glass. Had they not better try in the 
 afternoon, when, perhaps, the breeze would freshen ? And 
 so they walked back to the house. 
 
 On the garden-seat a book lay open. It was Mr. Mill's 
 " Essay on Liberty," and it had evidently been left there by 
 Mr. Mackenzie, perhaps who knows? to hint to his friends 
 from the South that he was familiar with the problems of the 
 age. Lavender winked to Ingram, but somehow his com- 
 panion seemed in no humor for a joke. 
 
 They had luncheon then, and after luncheon Ingram touched 
 Lavender on the shoulder, and said, " I want to hate a word 
 with you privately. Let's walk down to the shore." 
 
 And so they did; and when they had got some little dis- 
 tance from the house, Ingram said: " Look here, Lavender. 
 I mean to be frank with you. I don't think it fair that you 
 should try to drag Sheila Mackenzie into a flirtation. I 
 knew you would fall in love with \xer. For a week or two, 
 that does not matter it harnis no one. But I never thought 
 of the chance of her being led into such a thing, for what is 
 a mere passing amusement to you would be a very serious 
 thing to her." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well ? Is not that enough ? Do you think it fair to 
 take advantage of this girl's innocence of the world ?" 
 
fO A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Lavender stopped in the middle of the path, and said, 
 somewhat stiffly, " This may be as well settled at once. 
 You have talked of flirtation and all that sort of thing. 
 You may regard it as you please, but before I leave this 
 island I mean to ask Sheila Mackenzie to be my wife." 
 
 "Why, you are mad! 1 ' cried Ingram, amazed to see that 
 the young man was perfectly serious. 
 
 The other shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Do you mean to say," continued Ingram, "that even 
 supposing Sheila would consent which is impossible you 
 would try to take away that giil from her father?" 
 
 " Girls must leave their fathers sometime or other," said 
 Lavender, somewhat sullenly. 
 
 " Not unless they are asked." 
 
 " Oh, well, they are sure to be asked, and they are sure to 
 go. If their mothers had not done so before them, where 
 would they be ? It's all very well for you to talk about it, 
 and argue it out as a theory, but I know what the facts of the 
 case are, and what any man in my position would do; and I 
 know that I am careless of any consequences, so long as I can 
 secure her for my wife." 
 
 " Apparently you are careless of any consequences to 
 herself or those about her." 
 
 " But what is your objection, Ingram ?" said the young 
 man, suddenly abandoning his defiant manner; " why should 
 you object ? Do you think I would make a bad husband to 
 the woman I married ?" 
 
 " I believe nothing of the sort. I believe you would make 
 a very good husband, if you were to marry a woman whom 
 you knew something about, and whom you had really learned 
 to love and respect through your knowledge of her. I tell 
 you, you know nothing about Sheila Mackenzie as yet. If 
 you were to marry her to-morrow, you would discover in six 
 months she was a woman wholly different from what you had 
 expected." 
 
 " Very well, then," said Lavender, with an air of triumph ; 
 " you can't deny this ; you think so much of her that the 
 real woman I would discover must be better than the one I 
 imagine ; and so you don't expect I shall be disappointed?" 
 
 *' If you marry Sheila Mackenzie you will be disappointed 
 not through her fault, but your own. Why, a more pre- 
 posterous notion never entered a man's head 1 She know? 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 7! 
 
 nothing of your friends or your ways of life ; you know no- 
 thing of hers. She would be miserable in London, even if 
 you could persuade her father to go with her, which is the 
 most unlikely thing in the world. Do give up this foolish 
 idea, like a good fellow, and do it before Sheila is dragged 
 into a flirtation that may have the most serious consequences 
 to her." 
 
 Lavender would not promise, but all that afternoon various 
 resolutions and emotions were struggling within him for 
 mastery, insomuch that Duncan could not understand the 
 blundering way in which he whipped the pools. Mackenzie, 
 Sheila and Ingram had gone off to pay a visit to an old crone 
 who lived in a neighboring island, and in whom Ingram had 
 been much interested a few years before ; so that Lavender 
 had an opportunity of practicing the art of salmon-fishing 
 without interruptions. But all the skill he had shown in the 
 morning seemed to have deserted him ; and at last he gave 
 the rod to Duncan, and sitting down on a top-coat flung on 
 the wet heather, indolently watched the gillie's operations. 
 
 Should he at once fly from temptation and return to Lon- 
 don? Would it not be heroic to leave this old man in pos- 
 session of his only daughter? Sheila would never know of 
 the sacrifice, but what of that? It might.be for her happiness 
 that he should go. 
 
 But when a young man is in love, or fancies himself in 
 love, with a young girl, it is hard for him to persuade him- 
 self that anybody else can make her as happy as he might. 
 "Vho could be so tender to her. so watchful over her, as him- 
 self ? He does not reflect that her parents have had the ex- 
 perience of years in taking care of her, while he would be a 
 mere novice at the business. The pleasure with which he 
 regards the prospect of being constantly with her he trans- 
 fers to her, and she seems to demand it of him as a duty that 
 he should confer upon her this new happiness. 
 
 Lavender met Sheila in the evening, and he was yet unc~- 
 cided. Sometimes he fancied, when their eyes met unex- 
 pectedly, that there was something wistful as well as friendly 
 in her look ; was she, too, dreaming of the vague possibilities 
 of the future? This was strange, too, that after each of these 
 little chance reveries she seemed to be moved by a resolution 
 to be more than usually affectionate toward her father, and 
 would go around the table and place her hand on his shoulder 
 
72 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 and talk to him. Perhaps these things were but delusions 
 begotten of his own imaginings, but the possibility of their 
 being real agitated him not a little, and he scarcely dared to 
 think what might follow. 
 
 That evening Sheila sang, and all his half-formed resolu- 
 tions vanished into air. He sat in a corner of the curious, 
 dimly-lit and old-fashioned chamber, and, lying back in the 
 chair, abandoned himself to dreams as Sheila sang the mys- 
 tic songs of the Northern coast. There was something 
 strangely suggestive of the sea in the room itself, ana all her 
 songs were of the sea. It was a smaller room than the large 
 apartment in which they had dined, and it was filled with 
 curiosities from distant shores, and with the strange captures 
 made by the Borva fishermen. Everywhere, too, were the 
 trophies of Mackenzie's skill with rod and rifle. Deer's 
 horns; seal skins, stuffed birds, salmon in glass cases, masses 
 of coral, enormous shells, and a thousand similar things made 
 the little drawing-room a sort of grotto; but it was a grotto 
 within hearing of the sound of the sea, and there was no 
 musty atmosphere in a room that was open all day to the cold 
 winds of the Atlantic. 
 
 With a smoking tumbler of whisky and wter before him, 
 the King of Borva sat at the table, poring over a large volume 
 containing plans for bridges. Ingram was seated at the piano 
 in continual consultation with Sheila about her songs. 
 Lavender, in the dusky corner, lay and listened, with all 
 sorts of fancies crowding in upon him as Sheila sang of the 
 sad and wild legends of her home. Was it by chance, then> 
 he asked himself, that these songs seemed so frequently to be 
 the lamentation of a Highland girl for a fair-haired lover be- 
 . yond the sea? First of all, she sang the " Wail of Duneve- 
 gan,"and how strangely her voice thrilled with the sadness 
 of the song! 
 
 Morn, oh mantle thy smiles of gladness! 
 Night, oh come with thy clouds of sadness! 
 Earth, thy pleasures to me seem madness! 
 Macleod, my leal love, since thou art gone. 
 
 Dunevegan, oh! Dunevegan, oh! 
 
 Dunevegan! Dunevegan! 
 
 It was as in a dream that he heard Ingram talking in a mat- 
 ter-of-fact way about the airs, and asking the meaning of 
 certain lines of Gaelic to compare them with the stiff and 
 old-fashioned phrases of the translation. Surely this gir/ 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. )3 
 
 must have sat by the shore and waited for her absent lover, 
 or how could she sing with such feeling?- 
 
 S*ry, my love, why didst thou tarry 
 
 Far over the deep sea ? 
 Knew'st thou not my heart was weary, 
 Heard'st thou not how I sighed for thee? 
 Did no light wind bear my wild despair 
 
 Far over the deep sea? 
 
 He could imagine that beautiful face grown pale and wild 
 with anguish. And then some day, as she went along the 
 lonely island, with all the light of hope gone out of her eyes, 
 and with no more wistful glances cast across the desolate 
 sea, might not the fair-haired lover come at last, and leap 
 ashore to clasp her in his arms, and hide the wonder-stricken 
 eyes and the glad face in his bosom? But Sheila sang of no 
 such meeting. The girl was always alone, her lover gone 
 away from her across the sea or into the wilds. 
 
 Oh long on the mountain he tarries, he tarries: 
 Why tarries the youth with the bright yellow hair ? 
 
 Oh long on the mountain he tairies. he tarries: 
 Why seeks he the hill when his flock is not there ? 
 
 That was what he heard her sing, until it seemed to him that 
 her singing was a cry to be taken away from these melan- 
 choly surroundings of sea and shore, and carried to the 
 secure and comfortable South, to be cherished and tended 
 and loved. Why should this girl be left to live a cruel life 
 up in these wilds, and to go through this world without 
 knowing anything of the happy existence that might have 
 been hers ? It was well for harder and stronger natures to 
 withstand the buffetings of wind and rain, and be indifferent 
 to the melancholy influences of the lonely sea and the dark- 
 ness of the Northern winters; but for her for this beautiful, 
 sensitive, tender-hearted giil surely some other and gentler 
 fate was in store. What he, at least, could do, he would. 
 He would lay his life at her feet ; and if she chose to go away 
 from this bleak and cruel home to the sunnier South, would 
 not he devote himself, as never a man had given himself to a 
 woman before, to the constant duty of enriching her life 
 with all the treasures of admiration and respect and love? 
 
 It was getting late, and Sheila retired. As she bade "good 
 night '' to him, Lavender fancied her manner was a little less 
 frank toward him than usual, and her eyes were cast down. 
 All the light of the room seemed to go with her when she 
 nvent. 
 
 Mackenzie mixed another tumbler of toddy, and begap to 
 
74 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 expound to Ingram his views upon deer-forests and sheep* 
 farms. Ingram lit a cigar, stretched out his legs and pro- 
 ceeded to listen with much complacent attention. As for 
 Lavender, he sat awhile, hearing vaguely the sounds of hir, 
 companions' voices, and then, saying he was a trifle tired, he 
 left and went to his own room. The moon was then clearly 
 shining over Suainabhal, and a pathway of glimmering ligh? 
 lay across Loch Roag. 
 
 He went to bed, but not to sleep. He had resolved to ask 
 Sheila Mackenzie to be his wife, and a thousand conjectures 
 as to the future were floating about his imagination. In the 
 first place, would she listen to his prayer? She knew no- 
 thing of him beyond what she might have heard from Ingram. 
 He had had no opportunity, during their friendly talking, of 
 revealing to her what he thought of herself; but might she 
 not have guessed it ? Then her father what action might 
 not this determined old man take in the matter? Would 
 his love for his daughter prompt him to consider her happi- 
 ness alone? 
 
 All these things, however, were mere preliminaries, and 
 the imagination of the young man soon overleapt them. He 
 began to draw pictures of Sheila as his wife in their London 
 home, among his friends, at Hastings, at Ascot, in Hyde Park. 
 What would people say of the beautiful sea-princess with the 
 proud air, the fearless eye and the gentle and musical 
 voice? Hour after hour he lay and could not sleep; a fever 
 of anticipation, of fear and hope combined, seemed to stir 
 in his blood and throb in his brain. At last, in a paroxysm 
 of unrest, he rose, hastily dressed himself, stole down stairs^ 
 and made his way out into the cool air of the night. 
 
 It could not be the coming dawn that revealed to him the 
 outlines of the shore and the mountains and the loch? The 
 moon had already sunk in the Southwest; not from her came 
 that strange clearness by which all these objects were defined. 
 Then the. young man bethought him of what Sheila had said 
 of the twilight in these latitudes, and, turning to the North, he 
 saw there a pale glow which looked as if it were the last faint 
 traces of some former sunset. All over the rest of the 
 heavens something of the same metallic clearness reigned, so 
 that the stars were pale, and a gray hue lay over the sea, and 
 over the island, the white bays, the black rocks and the val- 
 leys, in which lay a scarcely perceptible mist. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 75 
 
 He left the house and went vaguely down to the sea. The 
 cold air, scented strongly with the seaweed, blew about him, 
 and was sweet and fresh on the lip.sand the forehead. How 
 strange was the monotonous sound of the waves, mournful 
 and distant, like the sound in a sea-shell ! That alone spoke 
 in the awful stillness of the night, and it seemed to be telling 
 of those things which the silent stars and the silent hills had 
 looked down on for ages and agss. Did Sheila really love this 
 terrible thing, with its strange voice talking in the night, or 
 did she not secretly dread it and shudder at it when she sang 
 of all that old sadness ? There was ringing in his ears the 
 " Wail of Dunevegan " as he listened for a while to the mel- 
 ancholy plashing of the waves all around the lonely shores ; 
 and there was a cry of " Dunevegan, oh ! Dunevegan, oh !" 
 weaving itself curiously with those wild pictures of Sheila in 
 London, which were still floating before his imagination. 
 
 He walked away around the coast, seeing almost nothing 
 of the objects around him, but conscious of the solemn 
 majesty of the mountains and the stillness of the throbbing 
 stars. He could have called aloud, " Sheila ! Sheila !" but 
 that all the place seemed associated with her presence ; and 
 might he not turn suddenly to find her figure standing by 
 him, with her face grown wild and pale as it was in the bal- 
 lad, and a piteous and awful look in her eyes ? He scarcely 
 dared look around, lest there should be a phantom Sheila 
 appealing to him for compassion, and complaining against 
 him with her speechless eyes for a wrong that he could not 
 understand. He fled from her, but he knew that she was 
 there ; and all the love in his heart went out to her as if be 
 seeching her to go away and forsake him, and forgive him 
 the injury of which she seemed to accuse him. What wrong 
 had he done her that he should be haunted by this spectre, 
 that did not threaten, but only looked piteously toward him 
 with eyes full of entreaty and pain ? 
 
 He left the shore, and blindly made his way up to the pas- 
 ture-land above, careless whither he went. He knew not 
 how long he had been away from the house, but here was a 
 small fresh-water lake set around about with rushes, and far 
 over there in the East lay a glimmer of the channels between 
 Borva and Lewis. But soon there was another light in the 
 East, high over the low mists f hat lay along the land. A pale 
 blue -gray arose in the cloudless sky, and the stars went out 
 
76 A PRINCESS OF TliULE. 
 
 one by one. The mists were seen to lie in thicker folds 
 along the desolate valleys. Then a faintly yellow-whiteness 
 stole up into the sky, and broadened and widened, and, be- 
 hold! the little moorland loch caught a reflection of the glare, 
 and there was a streak of crimson here and there on the 
 dark-blue surface of the water. Loch Roag began to bright- 
 en. Suainabhal was touched with rose-red on its Eastern 
 slopes. The Atlantic seemed to rise out of its purple sleep 
 with the new light of a new dawn; and then there was a 
 chirruping of birds over the heath, and the first shafts of the 
 sunlight ran along the surface of the sea, and lit up the white 
 wavelets that were breaking on the beach. The new day 
 struck upon him with a strange sense of wonder. Where 
 was he? Whither had gone the wild visions of the night, 
 the feverish dread, the horrible forebodings? The strong 
 mental emotion that had driven him out now produced its 
 natural reaction; he looked about in a dazed fashion at the 
 revelation of light around him, and felt himself trembling 
 with weakness. Slowly, blindly, and hope'essly he set to 
 walk back across the island, with the sunlight of the fresh 
 morning calling into life ten thousand audible things of the 
 moorland around him. 
 
 And who was this that stood at the porch of the house in 
 the clear sunshine ? Not the pale and ghastly creature who 
 had haunted him during those wild hours, but Sheila herself, 
 singing some snatches of a song, and engaged in watering 
 tne two bushes of sweet-brier at the gate. How bright and 
 roseate and happy she looked, with the fine color of her face 
 lit up by the fresh sunlight, and the brisk breeze from the sea 
 stirring now and again the loose masses of her hair! Haggard 
 and faint as he was, he would have startled her if he had gone 
 up to her then. He dared not approach her. He waited 
 until she had gone around to the gable of the house to water 
 the plants there, and then he stole into the house and up- 
 stairs, and threw himself upon the bed. And outside he still 
 heard Sheila singing lightly to herself as she went about her 
 ordinary duties, little thinking in how strange and wild a 
 drama her wraith had that night taken part. 
 
PRINCESS OF THULI. 
 
 PART III, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 
 
 VER\ soon, indeed, Ingram began to see that his friend 
 had spoken to him quite frankly, and that he was really bent 
 on asking Sheila to become his wife. Ing-ram contemplated 
 this prospect with some dismay, and with some vague con- 
 sciousness that he was himself responsible for what he could 
 not help regarding as a disaster. He had half expected that 
 Frank Lavender would, in his ordinary fashion, fall in love 
 with Sheila for about a fortnight. He had joked him 
 about it, even before they came within sight of Sheila's 
 home. 
 
 He had listened with a grim humor to Lavender's out- 
 bursts of admiration, and only asked himself how many times 
 he had heard the same phrases before. But now things were 
 looking more serious, for the young man had thrown himself 
 into the prosecution of his new project with all the generous 
 poetic enthusiasm of a highly impulsive nature. Ingram saw 
 that everything a young man could do to win the heart of a 
 young girl Lavender would do ; and Nature had dowered 
 him richly with various means of fascination. Most danger- 
 ous of all of these was a gift of sincerity Ihat deceived him- 
 self. He could, assume an opinion or express an emotion at 
 will, with such genuine fervor that he himself forgot how re- 
 cently he had acquired it, and was able to convince his com- 
 panion for the moment that it was a revelation of his inmost 
 soul. It was this charm of impetuous sincerity which had 
 fascinated Ingram himself years before, and made him culti- 
 vate the acquamtence of a young man whom he at first re- 
 garded as a somewhat facile, talkative and histrionic person. 
 Ingram perceived, for example, that young Lavender had so 
 little regard for public affairs that he would have been quite 
 content to see our Indian empire go, for the sake of eliciting 
 a sarcasm from Lord Westbury; but at the same time, if 
 you had appealed to his nobler instincts, and placed before 
 
78 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 him the condition of a certain populace suffering from starva- 
 tion, he would have done all in his power to aid them; he 
 would have written letters to the newspapers, would have 
 headed subscriptions, and would have ended by believing 
 that he had been the constant friend of the people of India 
 throughout his life, and was bound to stick to them to the 
 end of it. 
 
 As often as not he borrowed his fancies and opinions from 
 Edward Ingram himself, who was amused and gratified at 
 the same time to find his humdrum notions receive a dozen 
 new lights and colors when transferred to the warmer atmos- 
 phere of his friend's imagination. Ingram would even con- 
 sent to receive from his younger companion advice, impetuously 
 urged and richly illustrated, which he had himself offered in 
 similar terms months before. At this very moment he could 
 see that much of Lavender's romantic conceptions of Sheik's 
 character was only an exaggeration of some passing hints he, 
 Ingram, had dropped, as the Clansman was steaming into 
 Stornoway. But then they were ever so much more beautiful. 
 Ingram held to his conviction that he himself was a distinctly 
 commonplace person. He had grown reconciled to the or- 
 dinary grooves of life. But young Lavender was not com- 
 monplace ; he fancied he could see in him an occasional 
 flash of something that looked like genius ; and many and 
 many a time, in regarding the brilliant and facile powers, the 
 generous impulses, and the occasional ambitions of his com- 
 panion, he wondered whether these would ever lead to any- 
 thing in the way of production, or even of consideration of 
 character, or whether they would merely remain the passing 
 sensations of an indifferent idler. Sometimes, indeed, he 
 devoutly wished that Lavender had been born a stonemason. 
 
 But all these pleasant and graceful qualities, which had 
 made the young man an agreeable companion, were a serious 
 danger now; for was it not but too probable that Sheila, 
 accustomed to the rude and homely ways of the islanders, 
 would be attracted and pleased and fascinated by one who 
 had about him so much of a soft and Southern brightness 
 with which she was wholly unfamiliar? This open-hearted 
 frankness of his placed all his best qualities in the sunshine, 
 as it were: she could not fail to see the singular modesty 
 and courtesy of his bearing towards women, his gentle man- 
 ners, his light-heartedness, his passionate admiration of the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 79 
 
 self-sacrifice of others, and his sympathy with their suffer- 
 ings! Ingram would not have minded much if Lavender 
 alone had" been concerned in the dilemma now growing im- 
 minent ; he would have left him to flounder out as he had 
 got out of previous ones. But he had been surprised and 
 gained, and even frightened, to detect, in Sheila's manner 
 some faint indications so faint that he was doubtful what 
 construction to put on them of a special interest in the 
 young stranger whom he had brought with him to Borva. 
 
 What could he do in the matter supposing his suspicions 
 were correct? Caution Sheila? it would be an insult. 
 Warn Mackenzie ? the King of Borva would fly into passion 
 with everybody concerned, and bring endless humiliation on 
 his daughter, who had probably never dreamed of regarding 
 Lavender except as a chance acquaintance. Insist upon Lav- 
 ender going South at once? that would merely goad the 
 young man into obstinacy. Ingram found himself in a griev- 
 ous difficulty, afraid to say how much of it was of his own 
 creation. He had no selfish sentiments of his own to consult : 
 if it were to become evident that the happiness of Sheila and 
 of his friend depended on their marrying each other, he was 
 ready to forward such a project with all the influence at his 
 command. But there were a hundred reasons why he should 
 dread such a marriage. He had already mentioned several 
 of them to Lavender in trying to dissuade the young man 
 from his purpose. A few days had passed since then, and it 
 was clear that Lavender had abandoned all notion of fulfill- 
 ing those resolutions he had vaguely formed. But the more 
 Ingram thought over the matter, and the further he recalled 
 the ancient proverbs and stories about the fate of intermed- 
 dlers, the more evident it became to him that he could take 
 no immediate action in the affair. He would trust to the 
 chapter of accidents to save Sheila from what he considered 
 a disastrous fate. Perhaps Lavender would repent. Perhaps 
 Mackenzie, continually on the watch for small secrets, would 
 discover something, and bid his daughter stay in Borva while 
 his guests proceeded on their tour through Lewis. In any 
 case, it was not all certain that Lavender would be successful 
 in his suit. Was the heart of a proud-spirited, intelligent 
 and busily-occupied girl to be won in a matter of three weeks 
 or a month? Lavender would go South, and no more would 
 be heard of it. 
 
80 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 This tour around the island of Lewis, however, was not 
 likely to favor much any such easy escape from the difficulty. 
 On a certain morning the larger of Mr. Mackenzie's boats 
 carried the holiday party away from Borva; and, even at 
 this early stage, as they sat at the stern of the heavy craft, 
 Lavender had arrogated to himself the exclusive right of 
 waiting upon Sheila. He had constituted himself her com- 
 panion in all their excursions about Borva which they had 
 undertaken, and now, on this longer journey, they were to 
 be once more thrown together. It did seem a little hard that 
 Ingram should be relegated to Mackenzie and his theories of 
 government; but did he not profess to prefer that? Like 
 most men, who have got beyond five-and-thirty, he wat 
 rather proud of considering himself an observer of life. He 
 stood aside, as a spectator, and let other people, engaged in 
 all manner of eager pursuits, pass before nim for review. 
 Toward young folks, indeed, he assumed a good-naturedly 
 paternal air, as if they were but, as shy-faced children, to be 
 humored. Were not their love affairs a pretty spectacle? 
 As for himself, he was far beyond all that. The illusions of 
 love-making, the devotion, and ambition, and dreams of 
 courtship were no longer possible to him, but did they not 
 constitute, on the whole, a beautiful and charming study, 
 that had about it, at times, some little touches of pathos ? 
 At odd moments, when he saw Sheila and Lavender walking 
 together in the evening, he was himself half inclined to wish 
 that something might come of the young man's determination. 
 It would be so pleasant to play the part of a friendly coun- 
 selor, to humor the follies of the young folks, to make jokes 
 at their expense, and then, in the midst of their embarrass- 
 ment and ^resentment, to go forward and pet them a little, 
 and assure them of a real and earnest sympathy. 
 
 " Your time is to come," Lavender said to him suddenly 
 after he had been exhibiting someof his paternal forbearance 
 and consideration ; " you will get a dreadful twist some day, 
 my boy. You have been doing nothing but dreaming about 
 women, but some day or other you will wake up and find 
 yourself captured and fascinated beyond anything you have 
 ever seen in other people, and then you will discover what a 
 desperately real thing it is." 
 
 Ingram had a misty impression that he had heard some- 
 thing like this before. Had he not given Lavender some 
 
A PRINCESS of THULE. 81 
 
 warning of the same kind ? But he was so much accustomed 
 to hear those vague repetitions of his own remarks, and was, 
 on the whole, so well pleased to think that his commonplace 
 notions should take root and flourish in this goodly soil, that 
 he never thought of asking Lavender to quote his authority 
 for those profound observations on men and things. 
 
 " Now, Miss Mackenzie," said the young man as the big 
 boat was drawing near to Callernish, " what is to -be our first 
 sketch in Lewis ?'' 
 
 " The Callernish Stones, of course," said Mackenzie him- 
 self; " it iss more than one hass come to the Lewis to see the 
 Callernish Stones." 
 
 Lavender had promised to the King of Borva a series of 
 water-color drawings of Lewis, and Sheila was to choose the 
 subjects from day to day. Mackenzie was gratified by this 
 proposal, and accepted it with much magnanimity; but Sheila 
 knew that before the offer was made Lavender had come to 
 her and asked her if she cared about sketches, and whether 
 he might be allowed to take a few on this journey and pre- 
 sent them to her. She was very grateful, but suggested that 
 it might please her papa if they were given to him. Would 
 she superintend them, then, and choose the topics for illus- 
 tration ? Yes, she would do that; and so the young man was 
 furnished with a roving commission. 
 
 He brought her a little sepia sketch of Borvapost, its huts, 
 its bay, and its upturned boats on the beach. Sheila's ex- 
 pressions of praise, the admiration and pleasure that shone in 
 her eyes, would have turned any young man's head. But 
 her papa looked at the picture with a critical eye, and 
 remarked, " Oh, yes, it is ferry good, but is not the color of 
 Loch Roag at all. It is the color of a river where there is a 
 flood of rain. I have neffer at all seen Loch Roag a brown 
 color neffer at all." 
 
 It was clear then, that the subsequent sketches could not 
 be taken in sepia, and so Lavender proposed to make a series 
 of pencil-drawings, which could be washed in with color 
 afterward. There was one subject, indeed, which since his 
 arrival in Lewis he had tried to fix on paper by every con- 
 ceivable means in his power, and that was Sheila herself. He 
 had spoiled innumerable sheets of paper in trying to get some 
 likeness of her which would satisfy himself, but all his usual 
 skill seemed somehow to have gone from him, He could not 
 
82 A 1'UINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 understand it. In ordinary circumstances he could have 
 traced in a dozen lines a portrait that would at least have 
 shown a superficial likeness : he could have multiplied por- 
 traits by the dozen of old Mackenzie or Ingram or Duncan, 
 but here he seemed to fail utterly. He invited no criticism, 
 certainly. These efforts were made in his own room, and he 
 asked no one's opinion as to the likeness. He could, indeed, 
 certify to himself that the drawing of the features was correct 
 enough. There was the sweet and placid forehead, with its 
 low masses of dark hair; there the short upper lip, the finely 
 carved mouth, the beautifully-rounded chin and throat ; and 
 there the frank, clear, proud eyes, with their long lashes and 
 highly-curved eyebrows. Sometimes, too, a touch of color 
 added warmth to the complexion, put a glimmer of the blue 
 sea beneath the long, black eyelashes, and drew a thread of 
 scarlet around the white neck. 
 
 But was this Sheila? Could he take this sheet of paper to 
 his friends in London and say, Here is the magical princess 
 whom I hope to bring to you from the North, with all the 
 glamour of the sea around her ? He felt instinctively that 
 there would be an awkward pause. The people would praise 
 the handsome, frank, courageous head, and look upon the 
 bit of red ribbon around the neck as an effective artistic 
 touch. They would hand him back the paper with a com- 
 pliment, and he would find himself in an agony of unrest be- 
 cause they had misundcr^cood the portrait-, and seen nothing 
 of the wonder that encompassed this Highland girl as if with 
 a garment of mystery and dreams. 
 
 So he tore up portrait after portrait more than one of 
 which would have startled Ingram by its truth and then, 
 to prove to himself that he was not growing mad, he resolved 
 to try a portrait of some other person. He drew a head of 
 old Mackenz e in chalk, and was amazed at the rapidity and 
 facility with which he executed the task. Then there could 
 be no doubt as to the success of the likeness nor as to the 
 effect of the picture. The King of Borva, with his heavy 
 eyebrows, his aquiline nose, his keen gray eyes and flowing 
 beard, offered a fine subject; and there was something really 
 royal and massive and noble in the head that Lavender, well 
 satisfied with his work, took down stairs one evening. 
 Sheila was alone in the drawing-room, turning over some 
 music. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 83 
 
 " Miss Mackenzie," he said, rather kindly, " would you 
 look at this ?" 
 
 Sheila turned around, and the sudden light of pleasure that 
 leapt to her face was all the praise and all the assurance he 
 wanted. But he had more than that. The girl was grateful 
 10 him beyond all the words she could utter; and when he 
 asked her if she would accept the picture, she thanked him 
 by taking his hand for a moment, and then she left the room 
 to call in Ingram and her father. All the evening there was 
 a singular look of happiness on her face. When she met 
 Lavender's eyes with hers there was a frank and friendly look 
 of gratitude ready to reward him. When had he earned so 
 much before by a simple sketch ? Many and many a por- 
 trait, carefully executed and elaborately framed, had he pre- 
 sented to his lady friends in London, to receive from them a 
 pretty note and a few words of thanks when next he called. 
 Here with a rough chalk sketch he had awakened an amount 
 of gratitude that almost surprised him, in the most beautiful 
 and tender soul in this world ; and had not this princess 
 among women taken his hand for a moment as a childlike 
 way of expressing her thanks, while her eyes spoke more than 
 her lips ? And the more he looked at those eyes, the more 
 he grew to despair of ever being able to put down the magic 
 of them in lines and colors. 
 
 At length, Duncan got the boat into the small creek at 
 Callernish, and the party got out on the shore. As they 
 were going up the steep path leading to the plain above, a 
 young girl met them, who looked at them in rather a strange 
 way. She had a fair, pretty, wondering face, with singu- 
 larly high eyebrows, and clear, light blue eyes. 
 
 " How are you, Eily ?" said Mackenzie, as he passed on 
 with Ingram. 
 
 But Sheila, on making the same inquiry, shook hands with 
 the girl, who smiled in a confidential way, and, coming quite 
 close, nodded and pointed down to the water's edge. 
 
 "Have you seen them to-day, Eily?" said Sheila, still 
 holding the girl by the hands, and looking at the fair, 
 pretty, strange face. 
 
 " It wass sa day before yesterday," she answered, in a 
 whisper, while a pleased smile appeared on her face, "and 
 sey will be here sa night." 
 
 "Good-bye, Eily; take care you don't stay out at night 
 
84 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 and catch cold, you know," said Sheila; and then, with 
 another little nod and a smile, the young girl went down the 
 path. 
 
 " It is Eily-of-the-Ghosts, as they call her," said Sheila to 
 Lavender as they went on; "the poor thing fancies she sees 
 little people about the rocks, and watches for them. But 
 she is very good and quiet, and she is not afraid of them, and 
 (she does no harm to any one. She does not belong to the 
 Lewis I think she is from Islay but she sometimes comes 
 to pay us a visit at Borva, and my papa is very kind to 
 her." 
 
 "Mr. Ingram does not appear to know her; I thought he 
 was acquainted with every one in the island," said Lavender. 
 
 " She was not here when he has been in the Lewis before," 
 said Sheila; " but Eily does not like to speak to strangers, 
 and I do not think you could get her to speak to you if you 
 tried." 
 
 Lavender had paid but little attention to the " false men " 
 of Callernish when first he taw them, but now he approached 
 the long lines of big stones upon this lonely plateau with a 
 new interest; for Sheila had talked to him about them many 
 a time in Borva, and had asked his opinion about their origin 
 and their age. Was the central circle of stones an altar, with 
 the other series marking the approaches to it ? Or, was it the 
 grave of some great chieftain, with the remaining stones indi- 
 cating the graves of his relations and friends? Or was it the 
 commemoration of some battle in olden times, or the record 
 of astronomical or geometrical discoveries, or a temple once 
 devoted to serpent-worship, or what ? Lavender, who knew 
 absolutely nothing at all about the matter, was probably as 
 well qualified as anybody else to answer these questions, but 
 he forebore. The interest, however, that Sheila showed in 
 such things he very rapidly acquired. When he came to see 
 the rows of stones a second time he was much impressed by 
 their position on this bit of hill overlooking the sea. He sat 
 down on his camp-stool with the determination that, although 
 he could not satisfy Sheila's wistful questions, he would pre- 
 sent her with some little sketch of these monuments and their 
 surroundings, which might catch up something of the mysteri- 
 ous loneliness of the scene. 
 
 He would not, of course, have the picture as it then pre- 
 sented itself. The sun was glowing on the grass around him, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 85 
 
 and lighting up the tall, gray pillars of stone with a cheerftf, 
 radiance. Over there the waters of Loch Roag were bright 
 and blue, and beyond the lake the undulations of moorland 
 were green and beautiful, and the mountains in the South 
 grown pale as silver in the heat. Here was a pretty young 
 lady, in a rough blue traveling dress and a hat and feather, 
 who was engaged in picking up wild flowers from the warm; 
 heath. There was a gentleman from the office of the Board! 
 of Trade, who was sitting on the grass, nursing his knees 
 and whistling. From time to time the chief figure in the 
 foreground was an elderly gentleman, who evidently expected 
 that he was going to be put into the picture, and who was 
 occasionally dropping a cautious hint that he did not always 
 wear this rough-and-ready sailor's costume. Mackenzie was 
 also most anxious to point out to the artist the names of the 
 hills and districts lying to the south of Loch Roag, appar- 
 ently with the hope that the sketch would have a certain 
 topographical interest for future visitors. 
 
 No ; Lavender was content at that moment to take down 
 the outlines of the great stones and the -configuration of the 
 lake and hill beyond, but by and by he would give another 
 sort of atmosphere to this wild scene. He would have rain 
 and darkness spread over the island, with the low hills in the 
 South grown desolate and remote, and the waters of the sea 
 covered with gloom. No human figure should be visible on 
 this remote plain, where these strange memorials had stood 
 for centuries exposed to Western gales and the stillness of the 
 Winter nights, and the awful silence of the stars. Would 
 not Sheila, at least, understand the bleakness and desolation 
 of the picture? Of course her father would like to have 
 everything blue and green. He seemed a little disappointed 
 when it was clear that no distant glimpse of Borva could 
 be introduced into the sketch. But Sheila's imagination 
 would be captured by this sombre picture, and perhaps by 
 and by in some other land, amid fairer scenes and in a more 
 generous climate, she might be less inclined to hunger for 
 the dark and melancholy North when she looked on this 
 record of its gloom and sadness. 
 
 "Iss he going to put any people in the pictures ?" said 
 Mackenzie in a confidential whisper to Ingram. 
 
 Ingram got up from the grass, and said with a yawn, " I 
 don't know. If he does, it will be afterward. Suppose W3 
 
86 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 go along to the wagonette and see if Duncan has brought 
 everything up from the boat ? " 
 
 The old man seemed rather unwilling to be cut out of this 
 particular sketch, but he went, nevertheless; and Sheila, 
 seeing the young man left alone, and thinking that not quite 
 fair, went over to him and asked if she might be permitted 
 to see as much as he had done. 
 
 Lavender shut up the book. 
 
 " No," he said with a laugh, " you shall see it to-night. 
 I have sufficient memoranda, to work something out of by and 
 by. Shall we have another look at the circle up there ? " 
 
 He folded up and shouldered his camp-stool, and they 
 walked up to the point at which the lines of the " mourners " 
 converged. Perhaps he was moved by a great antiquarian 
 curiosity; at all events, he showed a singular interest in the 
 monuments, and talked to his companion about all the possi- 
 ble theories connected with such stones in & fashion that 
 charmed her greatly. She was easily persuaded that the Cal- 
 lernish " Fir-Bhreige" were the most interesting relics in the 
 world. He had seen Stonehenge, but Stonehenge was too 
 scattered to be impressive. There was more mystery about 
 the means by which the inhabitants of a small island could 
 have hewn and carved and erected these blocks; there was, 
 moreover, the mystery about the vanished population itself. 
 Yes, he had been to Carnac also. He had driven down from 
 Auray in a lumbering old trap, his coachman being unable to 
 talk French. He had seen the half-cultivated plain on which 
 there were rows and rows of small stones, scarcely to be dis- 
 tinguished from the stone walls of the adjoining farms. What 
 was there impressive about such a sight when you went into 
 a house and paid a franc to be shown the gold ornaments 
 picked up about the place ? Here, however, was a perfect 
 series of those strange memorials, with the long lanes leading 
 up to a circle, and the tallest of all the stones placed on the 
 Western side of the circle, perhaps as the headstone of the 
 buried chief. Look at the position, too the silent hill, the 
 waters of the sea-loch around it, and beyond that the desola- 
 tion of miles of untenanted moorland. Sheila looked pleased 
 that her companion, after coming so far, should have found 
 something worth looking at in the Lewis. 
 
 " Does it not seem strange," he said suddenly, "to think 
 of young folks of the present day picking up wild flowers 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULK. 87 
 
 from among these old stones ?" He was looking at a tiny 
 bouquet which she had gathered. 
 
 " Will you take them ?" she said, quite simply and naturally, 
 offering him the flowers. " They may remind you some time 
 of Callernish." 
 
 He took the flowers and regarded them for a moment in 
 silence, and then he said gently, " I Co not think I shall warn 
 these to remind me of Callernish. I shall never forget our be- 
 ing here." 
 
 At this moment, perhaps fortunately, Duncan appeared, 
 and came along toward the young people with a basket in his 
 hand. 
 
 " It wass Mr. Mackenzie will ask if ye will tek a glass o' 
 whisky, sir, and a bit o' bread and cheese. And he wass 
 say in' there was no hurry at all, and he will wait for you 
 for two hours or half an hour whatever." 
 
 " All right, Duncan; go back and tell him I have finished / 
 and we shall be there directly. No, thank you, don't take 
 out the whisky unless, Miss Mackenzie," added the young 
 man with a smile, " Duncan can persuade you." 
 
 Duncan looked with amazement at the man who dared to 
 joke about Miss Sheila taking whisky, and without waiting 
 for any further commands indignantly shut the lid of the 
 basket and walked off. 
 
 " I wonder, Miss Mackenzie," said Lavender, as they went 
 along the path down the hill " I wonder what you would 
 say if I happened to call you Sheila by mistake ?" 
 
 " I should be glad if you did that. Every one calls me 
 Sheila," said the girl quietly enough. 
 
 " You would not be vexed ?" he said, regarding her with, 
 a little surprise. 
 
 "No; why should I be vexed?" she answered; and she 
 happened to look up, and he saw what a clear light of sin- 
 cerity there was shining in her .eyes. 
 
 " May I then call you Sheila?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But but " he said, with a timidity and embarrass- 
 ment of which she showed no trace whatever " but people 
 might think it strange, you know; and yet 1 should greatly 
 like to call you Sheila; OJily, not before other people per- 
 haps." 
 ' " But why not ?" she said, with her eyebrows just raised a 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 little. " Why should you wish to call me Sheila at one time 
 and not at the other? It is no difference whatever, and 
 every one ca'ls me Sheila." 
 
 Lavender was a little disappointed. He had hoped, when 
 she consented in so friendly a manner to his calling her by 
 any name he chose, that he could have established this little 
 arrangement, which would have had about it something of 
 the nature of a personal confidence. Sheila would evidently 
 have none of that. Was it that she was really so simple and 
 frank in her ways that she did not understand why there 
 should be such a difference, and what it might imply, or was 
 she well aware of everything he had been wishing, and able 
 to assume this air of simplicity and ignorance with a perfect 
 grace ? Ingram, he reflected, would have said at once that to 
 suspect Sheila of such duplicity was to insult her ; but then 
 Ingram was perhaps himself a trifle too easily imposed on, and 
 he had notions about women, despite all his philosophical 
 reading and such like, that a little more mingling in society 
 might have caused him to alter. Frank Lavender confessed 
 to himself that Sheila was either a miracle of ingenuousness 
 or a thorough mistress of the art of assuming it. On the one 
 hand, he considered it almost impossible for a woman to be 
 so disingenuous ; on the other hand, how could this girl have 
 taught herself, in the solitude of a savage island, a species of 
 histrionicism which women in London circles strove for years 
 to acquire, and rarely acquired in any perfection ? At all 
 events, he said to himself, while he reserved his opinion on 
 ihis point, he was not going to call Sheila, Sheila before folks 
 who would know what that meant. Mr. Mackenzie was evi- 
 dently a most irascible old gentleman. Goodness only knew 
 what sort of law prevailed in these wild parts ; and to be 
 seized at midnight by a couple of brawny fishermen, to be 
 carried down to a projecting ledge of rock ! Had not Ingram 
 already hinted that Mackenzie would straightway throw into 
 Loch Roag the man who should offer to carry away Sheila 
 from him? 
 
 But how could these doubts of Sheila's sincerity last ? He 
 sat opposite her in the wagonette, and the perfect truth of 
 her face, of her frank eyes and of her ready smile met him 
 at every moment, whether he talked to her or to Ingram, or 
 listened to old Mackenzie, who turned from time to time 
 from the driving of the horses to inform the stranger of wh'ac 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 89 
 
 he saw around him. It was the most brilliant of mornings. 
 The sun burned on the white road, on the green moorland, 
 on the gray lichened rocks with their crimson patches of 
 heather. As they drove by the curious convolutions of this 
 rugged coast the sea that lay beyond these recurring bays 
 and points was of a windy green, with here and there a streak 
 of white, and the fresh breeze blowing across to them tem 
 pered the fierce heat of the sun. How cool, too, were those 
 little fresh-water lakes they passed, the clear blue and white 
 of them stirred into wavelets that moved the reeds and left 
 air-bubbles about the half-submerged stones ! Were not 
 those wild geese over there, napping in the water with their 
 huge wings and taking no notice of the passing strangers? 
 Lavender had never seen this lonely coast in times of gloom, 
 with those little lakes becoming sombre pools, and the out- 
 line of the rocks beyond lost in the driving mist of the sea 
 and the rain. It was altogether a bright and beautiful world 
 he had got into, and there, was in it but one woman, beauti- 
 ful beyond his dreams. To doubt her was to doubt all 
 woron. When he looked at her he forgot the caution and 
 distrust and sardonic self-complacency his Southern training 
 had given him. He believed, and the world seemed to be 
 filled with a new light. 
 
 "That is Loch-na-Muil'ne," Mackenzie was saying, "and 
 it iss the Loch of the Mill; and over there, that is Loch-a- 
 Bhaile, and that iss the Loch of the Town; but where iss the 
 loch and the town now ? It wass many hundreds of years 
 before there will be numbers of people in this place;, and you 
 will come to Dun Charlobhaidh, which is a great castle, by 
 and by. And what wass it will drive away the people, and 
 leave the land to the moss, but that there wass no one to 
 look after them ? ' When the natives will leave Islay, fare- 
 well to the peace of Scotland.' That iss a good proverb. 
 And if they have no one to mind them, they wiU go away 
 altogether. And there is no people more obedient than the 
 people of the Highlands not anywhere; for you know that 
 we say: 'Is it the truth, as if you were speaking before 
 kings?' And now, there is the castle, and there wass many 
 people living here when they could build that." 
 
 It was, in truth, one of those circular forts, the date of 
 which has given rise to endless conjecture and discussion. 
 Perched up on a hill, it overlooked a number of deep and 
 
90 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 narrow valleys that ran landward, while the other side of the 
 hill sloped down to the sea-shore. It was a striking object, 
 this tumbling mass of dark stones standing high over the 
 green hollows and over the light plain of the sea. Was there 
 not here material for another sketch for Sheila? While 
 Lavender had gone away over the heights and hollows to 
 choose his point of view a rough and ready luncheon had 
 been spread out in the wagonette, and when he returned, 
 perspiring and considerably blown, he found old Mac- 
 kenzie measuring out equal portions of peat-water and whisky, 
 Duncan flicking the enormous " clegs" from off the horses' 
 necks, Ingram trying to persuade Sheila to have some sherry 
 out of a flask he carried, and everybody in very good spirits 
 over such an exciting event as a roadside luncheon on a 
 summer forenoon. 
 
 The King of Borva had by this time become excellent 
 friends with the young stranger who had ventured into his 
 dominions. When the old gentleman had sufficiently im- 
 pressed on everybody that* he had observed all necessary pre- 
 cautions in studying the character and inquiring into the an- 
 tecedents of Lavender, he could not help confessing to a 
 sense of lightness and vivacity that che young man seemed 
 to bring with him and shed around him. Nor was this mat- 
 ter of the sketches the only thing that had particularly recom- 
 mended Lavender to the old man. Mackenzie had a most 
 distinct dislike to Gaelic songs. He could not bear the mo- 
 notonous melancholy of them. When Sheila, sitting by her- 
 self, would sing these strange old ballads of an evening, he 
 would suddenly enter the room, probably find her eyes filled 
 with tears, and then he would in his inmost heart devote the 
 whole of Gaelic minstrelsy and all its authors to the infernal 
 gods. Why should people be forever maddening themselves 
 with the stories of other folks' misfortunes? It was bad 
 enough for those poor people, but they had borne thdr sor- 
 rows and died, and were at peace. Surely it was becter that 
 we should have songs about ourselves drinking or fighting, 
 if you like to keep up the spirits, to lighten the serious 
 cares of life, aud drown for a while the responsibility of 
 looking afier a whole population of poor, half-ignorant, un- 
 philosophical creatures. 
 
 " Look now,'* he would say, speaking of his own tongue, 
 " look at this teffle of a language ! It has no present tense 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 91 
 
 to its verbs; the people they are always looking forward to a 
 melancholy future or looking back to a melancholy past. In 
 the name of Kotr, hef we not got ourselves to live ? This day 
 we live in is better than any day that wass before or iss to come, 
 bekass it is here we are alive. And I will hef no more of these 
 songs about crying, and crying, and crying !" 
 
 Now Sheila and Lavender, in their musical mutual confi- 
 dences, had at an early period discovered that each of them 
 knew something of the older English duets, and forthwith 
 they tried a few of them, to Mackenzie's extreme delight. 
 Here, at last, was a sort of music he could understand none 
 of your meanings of widows and cries of luckless girls to the 
 sea, but good commonsense songs, in which the lads kissed 
 the lasses with a will, and had a good drink afterward and a 
 dance on the green on their homeward way. There was fun 
 in those happy May-fields, and good health and briskness in 
 the ale-house choruses, and throughout them all a prevailing 
 cheerfulness and contentment with the conditions of life cer- 
 tain to recommend itself to the contemplative mind. 
 
 Mackenzie never grew tired of hearing those simple ditties. 
 He grew confidential with the young man, and told him that 
 those fine, commonsense songs recalled pleasant scenes to 
 him. He, himself, knew something of English village life. 
 When he had been up to see the great Exhibition, he had 
 gone to visit a friend living in Brighton, and he had surveyed 
 the country with an observant eye. He had remarked several 
 village-greens, with the May-poles standing here and there 
 in front of the cottages, emblazoned with beautiful banners. 
 He had, it is true, fancied that the May-pole should be in 
 the centre of the green ; but the manner in which the waves 
 of population swept here and there, swallowing up open 
 spaces and so forth, would account to a philosophical person 
 for the fact that the May-poles were now close to the village 
 shops. 
 
 " Drink to me only with thine eyes," hummed the King of 
 Borva to himself as he sent the two little horses along the 
 coast road on this warm Summer day. He had heard the 
 song for the first time on the previous evening. He had no 
 voice to speak of; he had missed the air, and these were all 
 the words he remembered; but it was a notable compliment, 
 all the same, to the young man who had brought these pleas- 
 ant tunes to the island. 
 
02 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 And so they drove on through the keen salt air, with the 
 sea shining beside them and the sky shining over them; and 
 in the afternoon they arrived at the small, remote and solitary 
 inn of Barvas, placed near the confluence of several rivers 
 that flow through Loch Barvas (or Barabbas) to the sea. 
 Here they proposed to stop the night, so that Lavender, when 
 his room had been assigned to him, begged to be left alone 
 for an hour or two, that he might throw a Itttle color into 
 his sketch of Callernish. What was there to see at Barvas? 
 Why, nothing but the channels of the brown streams, some 
 pasture land and a few huts, then the unfrequented lake, and 
 beyond that, some ridges of white sand standing over the 
 shingly beach of the sea. He would join them at dinner. 
 Mackenzie protested in a mild way; he really wanted to see 
 how the island was to be illustrated by the stranger. There 
 was a greater protest, mingled with compassion and regret, 
 in Sheila's eyes ; but the young man was firm. So they let 
 him have his way, and gave him full possession of the com- 
 mon sitting-room, while they set off to visit the school and 
 the Free Church manse and what not in the neighborhood. 
 
 Mackenzie had ordered dinner at eight, to show that he 
 was familiar with the ways of civilized life; and when they re- 
 turned at that hour, Lavender had two sketches finished. 
 
 " Yes, they are very good," said Ingram, who was seldom 
 enthusiastic about his friend's work. 
 
 But old Mackenzie was so vastly pleased with the picture, 
 which represented his native place in the brightest of sun- 
 shine and colors, that he forgot to assume a critical air. 
 He said nothing against the rainy and desolate version of the 
 scene that had been given to Sheila it was good enough to 
 please the child. But here was something brilliant, effective, 
 cheerful; and he alarmed Lavender not a little by proposing 
 to get one of the natives to carry this treasure, then and 
 there, back to Borvapost. Both sketches were ultimately 
 returned to his book, and then Sheila helped him to remove 
 his artistic apparatus from the table on which their plain and 
 homely meal was to be placed. As she was about to follow 
 her father and Ingram, who had left the room, she paused 
 for a moment, and said to Lavender, with a look of frank 
 gratitude in her eyes: " It is very good of you to have pleased 
 my papa so much. I know when he is pleased, though he 
 does not speak of it; and it is not often he will be so much, 
 pleased." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 93 
 
 ."And you, Sheila?" said the young man, unconscious of 
 the familiarity he was using, and only remembering that she 
 had scarcely thanked him for the other sketch. 
 
 " Well, there is nothing that will please me so much as to 
 see him pleased/' she said, with a smile. 
 
 He was about to open the door for her, but he kept his 
 hand on the handle, and said, earnestly enough: " But that 
 is such a small matter an hour's work. If you only knew 
 how gladly I would live all my life here if only I could do 
 you some greater service " 
 
 She looked a little surprised, and then for one brief second 
 reflected. English was not wholly familiar to* her; perhaps 
 she had failed to catch what he really meant. But at all 
 events she said, gravely and simply: " You would soon tire 
 of living here; it is not always a holiday." And then, with- 
 out lifting her eyes to his face, she turned to the door, and 
 he opened it for her, and she was gone. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock when they went outside for their 
 evening stroll, and all the world had grown enchanted since 
 they had seen it in the colors of the sunset. There was no 
 night, but a strange clearness over the sky and the earth, and 
 down in the South the moon was rising over the Barvas hills. 
 In the dark-green meadows the cattle were still grazing. 
 Voices of children could be heard in the far distance, with 
 the rumbling of a cart coming through the silence, and the 
 murmur of the streams flowing down to the loch. The loch 
 itself lay like a line of dusky yellow in a darkened hollow near 
 the sea, having caught on its surface the pale glow of the 
 Northern heavens, where the sun had gone down hours 
 before. The air was warm, and yet fresh with the odors of 
 the Atlantic, and there was a scent of Dutch clover coming 
 across from the sandy pastures nearer the coast. The huts 
 of the small hamlet could but faint y be made out beyond 
 the dark and low-lying pastures, but a long, pale line of blue 
 smoke lay in the motionless air, and the voices of the chil- 
 dren told of open doors. Night after night this same picture, 
 with slight variations of position, had been placed before the 
 stranger who had come to view these solitudes, and night 
 after night it seemed to him to grow more beautiful. He 
 could put down on paper the outlines of an every-day land- 
 scape, and give them a dash of brilliant color to look well or 
 a wall; but how to carry away, except in the memory, any 
 
94 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 impression of the strange, lambent darkness, the tender 
 the loneliness and the pathos of those Northern twilights ? 
 
 They walked down by the side of one of the streams 
 towards the sea. But Sheila was not his companion on this 
 occasion. Her father laid hold of him, and was expound- 
 ing to him the rights of capitalists and various other matters. 
 
 But by and by Lavender drew his companion on to talk 
 of Sheila's mother; and here, at least, Mackenzie was neither 
 tedious nor ridiculous nor unnecessarily garrulous. It was 
 with a strange inteiest the young man heard the elderly man 
 talk of his courtship, his marriage, the character of his wife, 
 and her goodness and beauty. Was it not like looking at a 
 former Sheila? and would not this Sheila now walking 
 before him go through the same tender experiences, and be 
 admired and loved and petted by everybody as this other 
 girl had been, who brought with her the charm of winning 
 ways, and a gentle nature, into these rude wilds ? It was 
 the first time he had heard Mackenzie speak of his wife, 
 and it turned out to be the last; but from that moment the 
 older man had something of dignity in the eyes of this 
 younger man, who had merely judged him by his little 
 foibles and eccentricities, and would have been ready to 
 dismiss him contemptuously as a buffoon. There was some- 
 thing, then, behind that powerful face, with its deep cut 
 lines, its heavy eyebrows, and piercing and sometimes sad 
 eyes, besides a mere liking for tricks of childish diplomacy? 
 Lavender began to have some respect for Sheila's father, and 
 made a resolution to guard against the impertinence of 
 humoring him too ostentatiously. 
 
 Was it not hard, though, that Ingram, who was so cold 
 and unimpressionable, wiio smiied at the notion of marry- 
 ing, and who was probably enjoying his pipe quite as 
 much as Sheila's familiar talk, should have the girl all to 
 himself on this witching night ? They reached the shores of 
 the Ailantic. There was not a breath of wind coming in 
 from that sea, but the air seemed even sweeter and cooler as 
 they sat down on the great bank of shingle. Here and there 
 birds were calling, and Sheila could distinguish each one of 
 them. As the moon roie a faint golden light began to 
 tremble here and there on the waves, as if some subter- 
 ranean caverns were lit up and sending up to the surface faint 
 and fitful rays of their splendor. Farther along the coast the 
 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 95 
 
 tall banks of white sand grew white in the twilight, and the 
 outlines of the dark pasture-land behind grew more distinct. 
 
 But when they rose to go back to Barvas the moonlight 
 had grown full and clear, and the long and narrow loch had 
 a pathway of gold across, stretching fiom the reeds and 
 sedges of the one side to the reeds and sedges of the other. 
 And now Ingram had gone on to join Mackenzie, and Sheila 
 walked behind with Lavender, and her face was pale and 
 beautiful in the moonlight. 
 
 " I shall be very sorry when I have to leave Lewis," he 
 said, as they walked along the path leading through the sand 
 and the clover; and there could be no doubt that he felt the 
 regret expressed in the words. 
 
 " But it is no use to speak of leaving us yet," said Sheila, 
 cheerfully; "it is a long time before you will go away from 
 the Lewis." 
 
 "And I fancy I shall always think of the island just as it is 
 now with the moonlight overthere, and a loch near, and you 
 walking through the stillness. We have had so many evening 
 walks like this." 
 
 " You will make us very vain of our island," said the girl 
 with a smile, " if you will speak like that always to us. Is 
 there no moonlight in England ? I have pictures of English 
 scenery that will be far more beautiful than any we have here; 
 and if there is the moon here, it will be there too. Think of 
 the pictures of the river Tnames that my papa showed you 
 last night " 
 
 " Oh, but there is nothing like this in the South,'' said the 
 young man impetuously. "I do not believe there is in the 
 world anything so beautiful as this. Sheila, what would you 
 say if I resolved to come and live here always ?" 
 
 " I should like that very much more than you would like 
 it, perhaps," she said, with a bright laugh. 
 
 ' That would please you better than for you to go always 
 and live in England, would it not?" 
 
 " But that is impossible," she said. " My papa would 
 never think of living in England." 
 
 For some time after he was silent. The two figures in 
 front of them walked steadily on, an occasional roar of 
 laughter from the deep chest of Mackenzie startling the 
 night air, and telling of Ingram's being in a communicative 
 mpod. At last Lavender said ; " It seems to me a great p'^y 
 
,,6 A PRINCESS OF THr^E, 
 
 thz.i you should live in this remote r>kee, and have so little 
 amusement, and Fee so few people of tastes and education 
 like your own. Your pipa is so ruich occupied he is so 
 much older than you, too that you must be left to yourself 
 so much; whereas if you had a companion of your own age, 
 who could have the right to talk frankly to you, and go about 
 ^with you and take cars cf -you." 
 
 | By this time they had. reached the little wooden bridge 
 crossing the stream-, ar'i Mackenzie and Ingram had got to 
 the inn, where they itood in front of the door in the moon- 
 light. Before ascending the steps of the bridge, Lavender, 
 without pausing in his speech, took Sheila's hand and said 
 suddenly : " Now, don't let me alarm you, Sheila, but sup- 
 pose at some distant day as far away as you please I came 
 and asked you to let me be your companion then and always, 
 wouldn't you try ?'' 
 
 She looked up with startled glance of iear in her eyes, 
 and withdrew hef hand from him. 
 
 'Mo, don't be frightened," he said, quite gently. "I 
 don't ask you for any promise. Sheila, you must know I 
 love you you must have seen it. Will you not let me- come 
 to you at some future time a long way off that you may 
 tell me then ? Won't you try to do that ?" 
 
 There was more in the lone of his voice than in his words. 
 The girl stood irresolute for a second or two, regarding him 
 With a strange, wistful, earnest look ; and then a great gen- 
 \leness came into her eyes, and she put out her hand to him 
 and said in a low voice, "perhaps.'' 
 
 But there was something so grave and simple about her 
 manner at this moment that he dared not somehow receive 
 it as a lover receives the first admission of love from the lips 
 of a maiden. There had been something of a strange inquiry 
 in her face as she regarded him for a second or two; and 
 now that her eyes were bent on the ground, it seemed to him 
 that she was trying to realize the full effect of the concession 
 she had made. He would not let her think. He took her 
 hand and raised it respectfully to his lips, and then he led 
 her forward to the bridge. Not a word was spoken between 
 them while they crossed the shining space of moonlight to 
 the shadow of the house; and as they went in-doors he caught 
 but one glimpse of her eyes, and they were friendly and kind 
 toward him ; but evidently troubled. Hesaw no more that night 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 97 
 
 So he had asked Sheila to be his wife, and she had given 
 him some timid encouragement as to the future. Many a time 
 within these last few days had he sketched out an imaginative 
 picture of the scene. He was familiar with the passionate 
 rapture of lovers on the stage, in books, and in pictures; and 
 he had described himself (to himself) as intoxicated with joy, 
 anxious to let the whole world know of his good fortune, and 
 above all to confide the tidings of his happiness to his con- 
 stant friend and companion. But now, as he sat in one cor- 
 ner of the room, he almost feared to be spoken to by the two 
 men who sat at the table with steaming glasses before them. 
 He dared not tell Ingram: he had no wish to tell him, even if 
 he had got him alone. And as he sat there and recalled the 
 incident that had just occurred by the side of the little bridge, 
 he could not wholly understand its meaning. There had 
 been none of the eagerness, the coyness, the tumult of joy he 
 had expected ; all he could remember clearly was the long 
 look that the large, earnest, troubled eyes had fixed upon him, 
 while the girl's face, grown pale in the moonlight, seemed 
 somehow ghost-like and strange. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN INTERMEDDLER. 
 
 But in the morning all these idle fancies fled with the life 
 and color and freshness of a new day. Loch Barvas was 
 ruffled into a dark blue by the Westerly wind, and doubtless 
 the sea out there was running in, green and cold, to the shore. 
 The sunlight was warm about the house. The trout were 
 leaping in the shallow brown streams, and here and there a 
 white butterfly fluttered across the damp meadows. Was not 
 that Duncan down by the river, accompanied by Ingram? 
 There was a glimmer of a rod in the sunshine; the two 
 poachers were after trout for Sheila's breakfast. 
 
 Lavender dressed, went outside and looked about for the 
 nearest way down to the stream. He wished to have a chance 
 of saying a word to his friend before Sheila or her father 
 should appear. And at last he thought he could do no better 
 than go across to the bridge, and so make his way down to 
 '.he banks of the river, 
 
98 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 What a fresh morning it was, with all sorls of sweet scents 
 in the air ! And here, sure enough, was a pretty picture in 
 the early light a young girl coming over the bridge carry- 
 ing a load of green grass on her back. What would she say if 
 he asked her to stop for a moment that he might sketch her 
 pretty costume? Her head-dress was a scarlet handkerchief, 
 tied behind; she wore a tight-fitting bodice of cream-white 
 flannel and petticoats of gray flannel, while she had a waist- 
 belt and pouch of brilliant blue. Did she know of these 
 harmonies of color or of the picturesqueness of her appear- 
 ance as she came across the bridge in the sunlight ? As she 
 drew near she stared at the stranger with the big, dumb eyes 
 of a wild animal. There was no fear, only a sort of sur- 
 prised observation in them. And as she passed she uttered, 
 without a smile, some brief and laconic salutation in Gaelic, 
 which, of course, the young man could not understand. He 
 raised, his cap, however, and said " Good morning !" and 
 went on, with a fixed resolve to learn all the Gaelic that 
 Dnncan could teach him. 
 
 Surely the tall keeper was in excellent spirits this morning. 
 Long before he drew near, Lavender could hear, in the still 
 of the morning, that he was telling stories about John the 
 Piper, and of his adventures in such distant parts as Portree 
 and Oban, and even in Glasgow. 
 
 " And it was Allan M'Gillivray, of Styornoway," Duncan 
 was saying, as he industriously whipped the shallow runs of 
 the stream, "will go to Glasgow with John ; and they went 
 through ta Crinan Canal. Wass you through ta Crinan 
 Canal, sir?" 
 
 " Many a time." 
 
 " Ay, jist that. And I hef been told it iss like a river with 
 ta sides o' a house to it; and what would Allan care for a 
 thing like that, when he hass been to America more than 
 twice or four times? And it wasswhen he fell into the canal, 
 he was ferry nearly trooned for all that ; and when they pulled 
 him to ta shore he wass a ferry angry man. And this iss 
 what John says that Allan will say when he wass on the side 
 of the canal: ' Kott,' says he, ' if I was trooned here, I would 
 show my face in Styornoway no more.' But perhaps it iss 
 not true, for he will tell many lies, does John the Piper, to 
 hef a laugh at a man." 
 
 "The Crinan Canal is not to be despised, Duncan," said 
 
A PRINCESS OF tttULK. 99 
 
 Ingram, who was sitting on the red sand of the bank, "when 
 you are in it." 
 
 "And do you know what John says that Allan will say to 
 him the first time they went ashore at Glasgow?" 
 
 " I am sure I don't." 
 
 " It was many years ago, before that Allan will be going 
 many times to America, and he will neffer hef seen such fine 
 shops and ta big houses and hundreds and hundreds of peo- 
 gle, every one with shoes on their feet. And he will say to 
 John, ' John, ef I had known in time I should hef been 
 born here.' But no one will believe it iss true, he is such a 
 teffle of a liar, that John; and he will hef some stories about 
 Mr. Mackenzie himself, as I hef been told, that he will tell 
 when he goes to Styornoway. But John is a ferry cunning 
 fellow, and will not tell any such stories in Borva." 
 
 " I suppose if he did, Duncan, you would dip him in 
 Loch Roag." 
 
 " Oh, there iss more than one," said Duncan, with a grim 
 twinkle in his eye " there is? vnore than one that would hef 
 a joke with him if he was to tell stories about Mr. Macken- 
 zie." 
 
 Lavender had been standing listening, unknown to both. 
 He now went forward and bade them good-morning, and 
 then, having had a look at the trout that Duncan had caught, 
 pulled Ingram up from the bank, put his arm in his and 
 walked away with him. 
 
 " Ingram," he said, suddenly, with a laugh and a shrug, 
 " you know I always come to you when I'm in a fix.'' 
 
 " I suppose you do," said the other, "and you are always 
 welcome to whatever help I can give you. But sometimes it 
 seems to me you rush into fixes with the sort of notion that I 
 am responsible for getting you out." 
 
 " I can assure you nothing of the kind is the case. I could 
 not be so ungrateful. However, in the meantime that is 
 the fact is, I asked Sheila last night if she should marry me." 
 
 "The devil you did !" 
 
 Ingram dropped his companion's arm and stood looking 
 at him. 
 
 "Well, I knew you would be angry," said the younger 
 man in a tone of apology. " And I know I have been too 
 precipitate, but I thought of the short time we should be 
 remaining here, and of the difficulty of getting an explana- 
 
JOO A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 tion made at an another time; and it was really only to give 
 her a hint as to my own feelings that I spoke. I could not 
 bear to wait any longer." 
 
 "iSever mind about yourself," said Ingram, somewhat 
 curtly. " What did Sheila say ?" 
 
 " Well, nothing definite. What could you expect a girl to 
 say after so short an acquaintance ? But this I can tell you, 
 that the proposal is not altogether distasteful to her, and that 
 I have permission to speak to her at some future time, when 
 we have known each other longer." 
 
 'You have?" 
 
 ' Yes." 
 
 ' You are quite sure ?" 
 
 ' Certain.' 51 
 
 ' There is no mistake about her silence, for example, that 
 might have led you into misinterpreting her wishes alto- 
 gether? 1 ' 
 
 " Nothing of the kind is possible. Of course I could not 
 ask the girl for any promise, or anything of that sort. All I 
 asked was, whether she would allow me at some future time 
 to a^k her more definitely; and I am so well satisfied with her 
 reply that I am convinced I shall marry her." 
 
 " And is this the fix you wish me to help you out of? " said 
 Ingram, rather coldly. 
 
 " Now, Ingram, "said the younger man in penitential tones, 
 " don't cut up rough about it. You know what I mean. Per- 
 haps I have been hasty and inconsiderate about it ; but one 
 thing you may be sure, that Sheila will never have to com- 
 plain of me if she marries me. You say I don't know her yet, 
 but there will be plenty of time before we are married. I 
 don't propose to carry her off to-morrow morning. Now, 
 Ingram, you know what I mean about helping me in the fix 
 helping me with her father you know, and with herself, for 
 the matter of that. You can do anything with her, she ha* 
 such a belief in you. You should hear how she talks of you 
 you never heard anything like it." 
 
 It was an innocent bit of flattery, and Ingram smiled good- 
 naturedly at the boy's ingenuousness. After all, was he not 
 more loveable and more sincere in this little bit of simple 
 craft, used in the piteousness of his appeal, than when he was 
 giving himself the airs of a man-about-town, and talking of 
 women in a fashion which, to do him justice, expressed no- 
 thing of his real sentiments^- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. IO\ 
 
 Ingram waliced on, and said in his slow and deliberate 
 way, "You know I opposed this project of yours from the 
 first. I don't think you have acted fairly by Sheila or her 
 father, or myself who brought you out here. But if Sheila 
 ha r , been drawn into it, why, then, the whole affair is altered, 
 and we've got to make the best of a bad business." 
 
 " I was sure you would say that," exclaimed the younger 
 man with a brighter light appearing on his face. "You may 
 call me all the hard names you like ; I deserve them all, and 
 more. But then, as you say, since Sheila is in it, you'll do 
 your best, won't you?" 
 
 Frank Lavender could not make out why the taciturn 
 and sallow-faced man walking beside him seemed to be 
 greatly amused by this speech, but he was in no humor 
 to take offence. He knew that once Ingram had promised 
 him his help he would not lack all the advocacy, the advice, 
 and even the money should that become necessary that a 
 warm-hearted and disinterested friend could offer. Many 
 and many a time Ingram had helped him, and now he was to 
 come to his assistance in the most serious crisis of his life. 
 Ingram would remove Sheila's doubts. Ingram .would per- 
 suade old Mackenzie that girls had to get married some 
 time or other, and that Sheila ought to live in London. In- 
 gram would be commissioned to break the news to Mrs. Lav- 
 ender. But here, when the young man thought of the inter^ 
 view with his aunt which he would have to encounter, a cold 
 shiver passed through his frame. He would not think of it. 
 He would enjoy the present hour. Difficulties only grew the 
 bigger the more they were looked at ; when they were left 
 to themselves they frequently disappeared. It was another 
 proof of Ingram's kindness that he had not even mentioned 
 the old lady down in Kensington who was likely to have 
 something to say about this marriage. 
 
 "There are a great many difficulties in the way," said 
 Ingram, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Yes," said Lavender, with much eagerness, "but then, 
 look ! You may be sure that if we get over these, Sheila 
 will know well who managed it, and she will not be un- 
 grateful to you, I think. If we ever should be married I 
 am certain she will always look on you as her greatest 
 friend." 
 
 " It is a big bribe," said the elder man, perhaps a trifle 
 
102 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 sadly; and Lavender looked at him with some vague return 
 of a suspicion that some time or other Ingram must him- 
 self have been in love with Sheila. 
 
 They returned to the inn, where they found Mackenzie 
 busy with a heap of letters and newspapers that had been 
 sent across to him from Stornoway. The whole of the 
 breakfast-table "was littered with wrappers and big blue en- 
 velopes; where was Sheila, who usually waited on her father 
 at such times to keep his affairs in order? 
 
 Sheila was outside, and Lavender saw her through the 
 open window. Was she not waiting for him, that she should 
 pace up and down by herself, with her face turned away 
 irom the house ? He immediately went out and went over 
 to her, and she turned to him as he approached. He fan- 
 cied she looked a trifle pale, and far less bright and joyous 
 than the ordinary Sheila. 
 
 " Mr. Lavender," she said, walking away from the house, 
 '' I wish very much to speak to you for a moment. Last 
 night it was all a misfortune that I did not understand; and 
 I wish you to forget that a word was ever spoken about that." 
 
 Her head was bent down and her speech was low and 
 broken ; what she failed to explain in words her manner 
 explained for her. But her companion said to her, with 
 alarm and surprise in his tone: " Why, Sheila! You cannot 
 be so cruel! Surely you need not feel any embarrassment 
 through so slight a promise. It pledges you to nothing it 
 leaves you quite free; and some day, if I come and ask you 
 then a question I have not asked you yet, then will be time 
 enough to give me an answer." 
 
 "Oh, no, no!" said the girl, obviously in great distress, 
 " I cannot do that. It is unjust to you to let you think of it 
 and hope about it. It was last night everything was strange 
 to me I did not understand then but I have thought about 
 it all the night through, and now I know." 
 
 " Sheila !" called her father from the inside of the inn, 
 and she turned to go. 
 
 " But you do not ask that, do you?" he said. " You are 
 only frightened a little bit just now, but that will go away. 
 There is nothing to be frightened about. You have been 
 thinking over it. and imagining impossible things; you have 
 been thinking of leaving Borva altogether " 
 
 "Oh, that J can never do 1" she said, with a pathetic 
 earnestness. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 103 
 
 " But why think of such a thing?" he said. "You need 
 not look at all the possible troubles of life when you take such 
 a simple step as this. Sheila, don't be hasty in any such re- 
 solve; you may be sure all the gloomy things you have been 
 thinking of will disappear when we get close to them. And 
 this is such a simple thing. I don't ask you to say you will 
 be my wife I have no right to ask you yet but I have only 
 asked permission of you to let me think of it; and even Mr. 
 Ingram sees no great harm in that." 
 
 " Does he know ?" she said, with a start of surprise and 
 fear. 
 
 "Yes, 1 ' said Lavender, wishing he had bitten his tongue 
 in two before he had uttered the word. "You know we 
 have no secrets from each other; and to whom could I go 
 for advice but to your oldest friend ?" 
 
 "And what did he say?" she asked, with a strange look 
 in her eyes. 
 
 "Well, he sees a great many difficulties, but he thinks they 
 will easily be got over." 
 
 " Then," she said, with her eyes again cast down and a 
 certain sadness in her tone, " I must explain to him, too, and 
 tell him I had no understanding of what I said last night." 
 
 " Sheila, you won't do that !" urged the young man. " It 
 means nothing it pledges you to nothing." 
 
 " Sheila ! Sheila !'' cried her father, cheerily, from the 
 window, " come in and let us hef our breakfast." 
 
 "Yes, papa, 1 ' said the girl, and she went into the house, 
 followed by her companion. 
 
 But how could she find an opportunity of making this ex- 
 planation ? Shortly after breakfast the wagonette was at the 
 door of the little Barvas inn, and Sheila came out of the house 
 and took her place in it with an unusual quietness of manner 
 and hopelessness of look. Ingram, skiing opposite to her, 
 and knowing nothing of what had taken place, fancied that 
 this was but an expression of girlish timidity, and that it 
 was his business to interest her and amuse her until she should 
 forget the strangeness and newness of her position. Nay, as 
 he "had resolved to make the best of matters as they stood, 
 and as he b -lieved that Sheila had half confessed to a special 
 liking for his friend from the South, what more fitting thing 
 could he do than endeavor to place Lavender in the most fav 
 01 able light in her eyes? He began to talk of all the brilliant 
 
104 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 and successful things the young man had done as fully as he 
 could before himself. He contrived to introduce pretty 
 anecdotes of Lavender's generosity; and there were plenty 
 of these, for the young fellow had never a thought of conse- 
 quences if he was touched by a tale of distress, and if he could 
 iielp the sufferer either with his own or any one else's money. 
 Ingram talked of all their excursions together, in Devonshire, 
 in Brittany and elsewhere, to impress on Sheila how well he 
 knew his friend and how long their intimacy had lasted. At 
 first the girl was singularly reserved and silent, but somehow, 
 as pleasant recollections were multiplied, and as Lavender 
 seemed to have been always the associate and companion of 
 this old friend of hers, some brighter expression came into 
 her face and she grew more interested. Lavender, not know- 
 ing whether or not to take her decision of that morning as 
 final, and not wholly perceiving the aim of this kindly chat 
 on the part of his friend, began to see, at least, that Sheila 
 was pleased to hear the: two men help out each other's stories 
 about their pedestrian excursions, and that she at last grew 
 bold enough to look up and meet his eyes in a timid fashion 
 when she asked him a question. 
 
 So they drove along by the side of the sea, the level and 
 well-made road leading them through miles and miles of 
 rough moorland, with here and there a few huts or a sheep- 
 fold to break the monotony of the undulating sky-line. Here 
 and there, too, there were great cuttings of the peat-moss, 
 with a thin line of water in the foot of the deep, black 
 trenches. Sometimes, again, they would escape altogether 
 from any traces of human habitation, and Duncan would grow 
 excited in pointing out to Miss Sheila the young grouse that 
 . had run off the road into the heather, where they stood and 
 eyed the passing carriage with anything but a frightened air. 
 And while Mackenzie hummed something resembling, but 
 very vaguely resembling, "Love in thine eyes sits beaming," 
 and while Ingram, in his quiet, desultory, and often sardonic 
 fashion, amut>ed the young girl with stories of her lover's 
 bravery and kindness and dare-devil escapades, the merry 
 trot of the horses beat time to the bells on their necks, the 
 fresh West wind blew a cloud of white dust away over the moor- 
 land behind them, there was a blue sky shining all around 
 them, and the blue Atlantic basking in the light. 
 
 They stopped a few moments at both the hamlets of Suain- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfc. IO5 
 
 abost and Tabost to allow Sheila to pay a hurried visit to 
 one or two of the huts, while Mackenzie, laying hold of 
 some of the fishermen he knew, got them to show Lavender 
 the curing-house, in which the young gentleman professed 
 himself profoundly interested. They also visited the schobl- 
 houoe, and Lavender found himself beginning to look upon 
 a two-storied building with windows as something imposing, 
 and a decided triumph of human skill and enterprise, But 
 what was the school-house of Tabost to the grand building 
 at the Butt ? They had driven away from the high-road by 
 a path leading through long and sweet-smelling pastures of 
 Dutch clover ; they had got up from these sandy swathes to 
 a table-land of rock; and here and there they got glimpses 
 of tearful precipices leading sheer down to the boiling and 
 dashing sea. The curious contortions of the rocks, the 
 sharp needles of them springing in isolated pillars from out 
 of the water, the roar of the eddying currents that swept 
 through the chasms and dashed against the iron-bound 
 shore, the wild sea-birds that flew about and screamed over 
 the rushing waves and the surge, naturally enough drew the 
 attention of the strangers altogether away from the land; and 
 it was with a start of surprise they found themselves before 
 an immense mass of yellow stone-work walls, house, and 
 tower that shone in the sunlight. And here were the 
 lighthouse-keeper and his wife, delighted to see strange faces 
 and most hospitably inclined; insomuch that Lavender, who 
 cared little for luncheon at any time, was constrained to 
 take as much bread and cheese and butter and whisky as 
 would have made a ploughman's dinner. It was a strange 
 sort of a meal this, away out at the end of the world, as it 
 were. The snug little room might have been in the Mary- 
 lebone road ; there were photographs about, a gay label on 
 the whisky bottle, and other signs of an advanced civiliza- 
 tion; but outside nothing but the wild precipices of the 
 coast, a surging sea that seemed almost to surround the 
 place, the wild screaming of the sea-birds, and a single ship 
 appearing like a mere speck on the Northern horizon. 
 
 They had not noticed the wind much as they drove along ; 
 but now, when they went out on the h!gh table-land of rock, 
 it seemed to be blowing half a gale across the sea. The sun- 
 light sparkled on the glass of the lighthouse, and the great 
 yellow shaft of stone sf> etched away upward into a perfect 
 
106 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 blue. As clear a blue lay far beneath them when the sea 
 came rushing in among the lofty crags and sharp pinnacles of 
 rock, bursting into foam at their feet aud sending long jets of 
 white spray up into the air. In front of the great wall ot rock 
 the sea- birds wheeled and screamed, and on the points of some 
 of the islands stood several scarts, motionless figures of jet 
 black on the soft brown and green of the rock. And what 
 was this island they looked down upon from over one of the 
 bays ? Surely a mighty reproduction by Nature herself of 
 the Sphynx of the Egyptian plains. Could anything have 
 been more striking and unexpected and impressive than 
 the sudden discovery of this great mass of rock resting in the 
 wild sea, its hooded head turned away toward the North and 
 hidden from the spectator on land, its gigantic bulk sur- 
 rounded by a foam of breakers ? Lavender, with his teeth 
 set hard against the wind, must needs take down the outlines 
 of this strange scene upon paper, while Sheila crouched at 
 her father's side for shelter, and Ingram was chiefly engaged 
 in holding on to his cap. 
 
 " It blows here a bit,'' said Lavender amid the roar of the 
 waves. " I suppose in the Winter-time the sea will some- 
 times break across this place ?" 
 
 " Ay, and over the top of the light-house, too," said Mac- 
 kenzie with a laugh, as though he was rather proud of the 
 way his native seas behaved. 
 
 " Sheila," said Ingram, " I never saw you take refuge from 
 the wind before.'' 
 
 " It is because we will be standing still," said the girl, 
 with a smile which was scarcely visible, because she had half 
 hidden- her face in her father's great gray beard. "But 
 when Mr. Lavender is finished we will go down to the great 
 hole in the rocks that you will have seen before, and per- 
 haps he will make a picture of that, too." 
 
 " You don't mean to say you would go down there, Sheila?'* 
 said Ingram, " and in this wind !" 
 
 " I have been down many times before." 
 
 " Indeed, you will do nothing of the kind, Sheila," said 
 her father; " you will go back to the light-house if you like 
 yes, you may do that and I will go down the rocks with 
 Mr. Lavender ; but it iss not for a young lady to go about among 
 the rocks, like a fisherman's lad that wants the birds' eggs or 
 such nonsense." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 107 
 
 It was quite evident that Mackenzie had very little fear of 
 his daughter not being able to accomplish the descent of the 
 rocks safely enough ; it was a matter' of dignity. And so 
 Sheila was at length persuaded to go across the plain to a 
 sheltered place, to await there unti 1 . Lhe others should clamber 
 down to the great and naturally-formed tunnel through the 
 rocks that the artist was to sketch. 
 
 Lavender was ill at ease. He followed his guide mechanJ 
 ically as they made their way, in zigzag fashion, down the 
 precipitous slopes and over slippery plateaus; and when at 
 last he came in sight of the mighty arch, the long cavern, 
 and the glimmer of sea and shore that could be seen through 
 it, he began to put down the outlines of the picture as 
 rapidly as possible, but with little interest in the matter, 
 Ingram was sitting on the bare rocks beside him, Mackenzie 
 was some distance off should he tell his friend of what 
 Sheila had said in the morning ? Strict honesty, perhaps, 
 demanded as much, but the temptation to say -nothing was 
 great. For it was evident that Ingram was now well inclined 
 to the project, and would do his best to help it on ; whereas, 
 if once he knew that Sheila had resolved against it, he, too, 
 might take some sudden step such as insisting on their im- 
 mediate return to the midland which would settle the mat- 
 ter forever. Sheila had said she would herself make the 
 necessary explanation to Ingram, but she had not done so : 
 perhaps she might lack the courage or an opportunity to do 
 so, and in the meantime was not the interval altogether 
 favorable to his chances? Doubtless she was a little fright- 
 ened at first. She would soon get less timid, and would 
 relent and revoke her decision of the morning. He would 
 not, at present at any rate, say anything to Ingram. 
 
 But when they had got up again to the summit of the rocks, 
 an incident occurred that considerably startled him out of 
 these vague and anxious speculations. He walked straight 
 over to the sheltered spot in which Sheila was waiting. The 
 rushing of the wind doubtk ss drowned the sound of his foot- 
 steps, so that he came on her unawares; and on seeing him 
 she rose suddenly from the rock on which she had been sit- 
 ting, with some effort to hide her face away from him. But 
 he had caught a glimpse of something in her eyes that filled 
 >i.m with remorse. 
 
 "Sheila," he said, going forward to her, "what is the mat- 
 ter ? What are you unhappy about ?" 
 
I08 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 She could not answer; oheheld her face turned from him 
 and cast down ; and then, seeing her father and Ingram in 
 the distance, she set out to follow them to the lighthouse. 
 Lavender walking by her side, and wondering how he could 
 deal with the distress that was only too clearly written on 
 her face. 
 
 "I know it is I who have grieved you," he said in a low 
 voice, " and I am very sorry. But if you will tell me what I 
 can do to remove this unhappiness I will do it now. Shall I 
 consider our talking together of last night as if it had not 
 taken place at all ?" 
 
 " Yes," she said in as low a voice, but clear and sad, and 
 determined in its tone. 
 
 "And I shall speak no more to you about this affair until 
 I go away altogether ?" 
 
 And again she signified her assent, gravely and firmly. 
 " And then," he said, " you will soon forge* -all about it, 
 for, of course, I shall never come back to Lewis again." 
 "Never?" 
 
 The word had escaped her unwillingly, and it was acconv 
 panied by a quick upturning of the face and a frightened 
 look in the beautiful eyes. 
 
 " Do you wish me to come back?" he said. 
 " I should not wish you to go way from the Lewis through 
 any fault of mine, and say that we should never see you 
 again," said the girl in measured tones, as if she were nerving 
 herself to make the admission, and yet fearful of saying 
 too much. 
 
 By this time Mackenzie and Ingram had gone around the 
 big wall of the light-house; there were no human beings on 
 this lonely bit of heath but themselves. Lavender stopped 
 her and took her hand, and said, "Don't you see, Sheila, 
 how I must never come back to Lewis if all this is to be for- 
 gotten? And all I want you to say is, that I may come 
 some day to see if you can make up your mind to be my 
 wife. I don't ask that yet; it is out of the question, seeing 
 how short a time you have known anything about me, and I 
 cannot wish you to trust me as I can trust you. It is a very 
 little thing I ask only to give me a chance at some future 
 time, and then, if you don't care for me sufficiently to marry 
 me, or if anything stands in the way, all you need do is to 
 ^nd me a single word, and that will suffice. This is no ter 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 109 
 
 rible thing that I beg from you, Sheila. You needn't be 
 afraid of it." 
 
 But she was afraid; there was nothing but fear and doubt 
 and grief in her eyes, as she gazed in the unknown world 
 laid open before her. 
 
 " Can't you ask someone to tell you that it is nothing 
 dreadful Mr. Ingram, for example ?" 
 
 " I could not." 
 
 " Your papa, then," he said, driven to this desperate re- 
 source by his anxiety to save her from pain. 
 
 "Not yet not just yet," she said, almost wildly; "for 
 how could I explain to him ? He would ask me what my 
 wishes were; what could I say? I do not know,- I cannot 
 tell myself; and and I have no mother to ask." And here 
 all the strain of self-control gave way, and the girl burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Sheila, dear Sheila," he said, "why don't you trust your 
 own heart, and let that be your guide ? Won't you say this one 
 word, Yes, and tell me that I am to come back to Lewis some 
 day, and ask to see yo'u, and get a message from one look of 
 your eyes? Sheila, may not I come back?" 
 
 If there was a reply it was so low that he scarcely heard 
 it ; but somehow whether from the small hand that lay in 
 his, or from the eyes that sent one brief message of trust and 
 hope through their tears his question was answered ; and 
 from that moment he felt no more misgivings, but let his love 
 for Sheila shine out and blossom in whatever light of fancy 
 and imagination he could bring to bear on it, without any 
 doubts as to the future. 
 
 How the young fellow laughed and joked as the party 
 drove away again from the Butt, down the long coast-road 
 to Barvas! He was tenderly respectful and a little moderate 
 in tone when he addressed Sheila, but with the others he 
 gave way to a wild exuberance of spirits that delighted 
 Mackenzie beyond measure. He told stories of the odd old 
 gentlemen of his club, of their opinions, their ways, their 
 dress. He sang the song of the Arethusa and the wilds of 
 Lewis echoed with a chorus which was not just as harmoni- 
 ous as it might have been. He sang the " Jug of Punch," 
 and Mackenzie said that was a teffle of a good song. He 
 gave imitations of some of Ingram's companions at. the 
 Board of Trade, and showed Sheila what the inside of a, gov 
 
HO A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 ernment office was like. Fie paid Mackenzie the compli- 
 ment of asking him for a drop of something out of his flask, 
 and in return he insisted on the King smoking a cigar which, 
 in point of age and sweetness and fragrance, was really the 
 sort of a cigar you would naturally give to the man whose 
 only daughter you wanted to marry, 
 
 Ingram understood all this, and was pleased to see the 
 happy look that Sheila wore. He talked to her with even 
 a greater assumption than usual of fatherly fondness; and i? 
 she was a little shy, was it not because she was conscious of 
 so great a secret ? He was even unusually complaisant to 
 Lavender, and lost no opportunity of paying him indirect 
 compliments that Sheila could overhear. 
 
 " You poor young things' 1 ' he seemed to be saying to 
 \iimself, "you've got all your troubles before you; but, in 
 the meantime you can make yourselves as hapny as you 
 can." 
 
 Was the weather at last about to break ? As the afternoon 
 wore on the heavens became overcast, for the wind had 
 gone back from the course of the sun, and had brought up 
 great masses of cloud from the rainy Southwest. 
 
 "Are we going to have a storm?" said Lavender, looking 
 along the Southern sky, where the Barvas hills were mo- 
 mentarily growing blacker under the gathering darkness 
 overhead. 
 
 "Storm?" said Mackenzie, whose notions of what con- 
 stituted a storm were probably different from those of his 
 guest. " No, there will be no storm. But it is no bad thing 
 if we get back to Barvas very soon." 
 
 Duncan sent the horses on, and Ingram looked out Sheila's 
 water-proof and the rugs. The Southern sky certainly looked 
 ominous. There was a strange intensity of color in the dark 
 landscape, from the deep purple of the Barvas hills, coming 
 forward to the deep green of the pasture-land around them, 
 and the rich reds and browns of the heather and the peat- 
 cuttings. At one point of the clouded and hurrying sky, 
 however, there was a soft and vaporous line of yellow in the 
 gray; and under that, miles away in the West, a great dash of 
 silver light struck upon the sea, and glowed there so that the 
 eye could scarcely bear it. Was it the damp that brought 
 the perfumes of the moorlands so distinctly toward them 
 the bog-myrtle, the water-mint and the wild thyme ? There 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. HI 
 
 were no birds to be heard. The crimson masses of heathei 
 on the gray rocks seemed to have grown richer and deeper 
 in color, and the Barvas hills had become large and weird in 
 the gloom. 
 
 " Are you afraid of thunder !" said Lavender to Sheila. 
 
 " No," said the girl, looking frankly toward him with her 
 glad eyes, as though he had pleased her by asking that not 
 very striking question. And then she looked around at the 
 sea and the sky in the South, and said quietly: " But there 
 will be no thunder; it is too much wind." 
 
 Ingram, with a smile which he could scarcely conceal, 
 hereupon remarked, " You're sorry, Lavender, I know. 
 Wouldn't you like to shelter somebody in danger, or attempt 
 a rescue, or do something heroic ?" 
 
 "And Mr. Lavender would do that if there was any need/ 
 said the girl, bravely, " and then it would be nothing to 
 laugh at." 
 
 " Sheila, you bad girl ! how dare you talk like that to 
 me?" said Ingram; and he put his arm within hers and said 
 he would tell her a story. 
 
 But this race to escape the storm was needless, for they 
 were just getting within sight of Barvas when a surprising 
 change came over the da;k and thunderous afternoon. The 
 hurrying masses of cloud in the West parted for a little 
 space, and there was a sudden and fitful glimmer of a stormy 
 blue sky. Then a strange soft yellow and vaporous light 
 shone across to the Barvas hills and touched up palely the 
 great slopes, rendering them distant, ethereal and cloud-like. 
 Then a shaft or two of wild light flashed down upon 
 the landscape beside them. The cattle shone red in the 
 brilliant green pastures. The gray rocks glowed in their 
 setting of moss. The stream going by Barvas Inn was a 
 streak of gold in its sandy bed. And then the sky above 
 them broke into great billows of cloud tempestuous and 
 rounded masses of golden vapor that burned with the wild 
 glare of the sunset. The clear spaces in the sky widened, 
 and from time to time the wind sent ragged bits of yellow 
 cloud across the shining blue. All the world seemed to be 
 on fire, and the very smoke of it, the majestic masses of vapor 
 that rolled by overhead, burned with a bewildering glare. 
 Then, as the wind still blew hard, and kept veering around 
 to the Northwest, the fiercely-lit clouds were driven over one 
 
112 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 by one, leaving a pale and serene sky to look down on tine 
 sinking sun and the sea. The Atlantic caught the yellow 
 glow on its tumbling waves, and a deeper color stole across 
 the slopes and peaks of the Barvas hills. Whither had gone 
 the storm ? There were still some banks of clouds away up 
 in the Northeast, and in the clear green of the evening 
 sky they had their distant grays and purples faintly tinged 
 with rose. 
 
 "And so you are anxious and frightened, and a little 
 pleased ? " said Ingram to Sheil* that evening, after he had 
 hankly told her what he knew, and invited her further con- 
 fidence. " That is all I can gather from you, but it is enough. 
 Now you can leave the rest to me." 
 
 " To you ? " said the girl, with a blush of pleasure and 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes. I like new experiences. I am going to become an 
 intermeddler now t I am going to arrange this affair, and be- 
 come the negotiator between all the parties ; and then, when 
 I have secured the happiness of the whole of you, you will all 
 set upon me and beat me with sticks, and thrust me out of 
 your houses." 
 
 " I do not think," said Sheila, looking down, " that you 
 need have much fear of that, Mr. Ingram." 
 
 " Is the world going to alter because of me ? " 
 
 "I would rather not have you try to do anything that is 
 likely to get you into unhappiness," she .:aid. 
 
 " Oh, but that is absurd. You timid young folks can't 
 act for yourselves. You want agents and instruments that 
 have got hardened by use. Fancy the condition of our 
 ancestors, you know, before they had the sense to invent 
 steel claws to tear their food in. pieces what could they do 
 with their fingers? I am going to be your knife and fork, 
 Sheila, and you'll see what I shall carve out for you. All 
 you've got to do is to keep your spirits up, and believe that 
 nothing dreadful is going to take place merely because some 
 day you will be asked to marry. You let things take their 
 ordinary course. Keep your spirits up don't neglect your 
 music or your dinner or your poor people down in Borva- 
 post and you'll see it will all come right enough. In a year 
 or two, or less than that, you wall marry contentedly and 
 happily, and your papa will drink a good glass of whisky at 
 the wedding and nuke jokes about it, and everything will be 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 113 
 
 as rfght as the mail. That's my advice; see you attend 
 to it." 
 
 " You are very kind to me," said the girl, in a low voice. 
 
 " But if you begin to cry, Sheila, then I throw up my du- 
 ties. Do you hear? Now look: there goes Mr. Lavender 
 down to the boat with a bundle of rugs, and I suppose you 
 mean me to imperil my precious life by sailing about these 
 rocky channels in the moonlight ? Come along down to the 
 shore; and mind you please your papa by singing 'Love in 
 thine eyes 'with Mr. Lavender, and if you would add to 
 that ' The Minute Gun at Sea,' why, you know, I may as well 
 have my little regards for intermeddling now, as I shall have 
 to suffer afterward." 
 
 "Not through me," said Sheila, in rather an uncertain 
 voice; and then they went down to the Maighdean-mhara. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 "O TERQUE QUATERQUE BEATE!" 
 
 Consider what a task this unhappy man Ingram had volun- 
 tarily undertaken! Here were two young people presumably 
 in love. One of them was laid under suspicion by several 
 previous love affairs, though none of these, doubtless, had 
 been so serious as the present. The other scarcely knew her 
 own mind, or, perhaps, was afraid to question herself too 
 closely, lest all the conflict between duty and inclination, with 
 its fears and anxieties and troubles, should be too suddenly 
 revealed. Moreover, this girl was the only daughter of a soli- 
 tary and irascible old gentleman living in a remote island; 
 and Ingram had not only undertaken that the love affairs 
 of the young folks should come all right thus assuming a 
 responsibility which might have appalled the bravest but 
 was also expected to inform the King of Borva that his 
 daughter was i'.oout to be taken away from him. 
 
04 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Of course, if Sheila had been a properly brought up 
 young lady, nothing of this sort would have been necessary. 
 We all know what the properly brought up young lady doe? 
 under such circumstances. She goes straight to her papa and 
 mamma and says, "My dear papa and mamma, 1 have been 
 taught by my various instructors that I ought to have no 
 secrets from my dear parents ; and I therefore hasten to lay 
 aside any little shyness or modesty or doubt of my own 
 wishes I might feel, for the purpose of explaining to you the 
 extent to which I have become a victim to the tender pas- 
 sion, and of soliciting your advice. I also place before you 
 these letters I have received from the gentleman in question: 
 probably they were sent in confidence to me, but I must 
 banish any scruples that do not coincide with my duty to 
 you. I may say that I respect, and even admire Mr. So-and- 
 So ; and I should be unworthy of the care bestowed upon 
 my education by my dear parents, if I were altogether 
 insensible to the advantages of his worldly position. But 
 beyond this point I am at a loss to define my sentiments ; 
 and so I ask you, my dear papa and mamma, for permission to 
 study the question for some little time longer, when I may be 
 able to furnish you with a more accurate report of my feel- 
 ings. At the same time, if the interest I have in this young 
 man is likely to conflict with the duty I owe to my dear 
 parents, I ask to be informed of the fact ; and I shall then 
 teach myself to guard against the approach of that insidious 
 passion which might make me indifferent to the higher calls 
 and interests of life." 
 
 Happy the man who marries such a woman ! No agon- 
 izing quarrels and delirious reconciliations, no piteous en- 
 treaties, and fits of remorse, and impetuous self-sacrifices 
 await him, but a beautiful, methodical, placid life, as calm 
 and accurate, and steadily progressive as the multiplication 
 table. His household will be a miracle of perfect arrange- 
 ment. The relations between the members of it will be as 
 strictly defined as the pattern of the paper on the walls. And 
 how can a quarrel arise when a dissecter of the emotions is 
 close at hand to say where the divergence of opinion or in- 
 terest began. And how can a fit of jealousy be provoked in 
 the case of a person who will split up her affections into fif- 
 teen parts, give ten-fifteenths to her children, three fifteenths 
 to her parents, and the remainder to her husband ? Should 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 1 15 
 
 there be any dismal fractions going about, friends and ao 
 quiintances may come in for them. 
 
 But how was Sheila to go to her father and explain to him 
 what she could not explain to herself? She had never 
 dreamed of marriage. She had never thought of having to 
 leave Borva and her father's house. But she had some vague 
 feeling that in the future lay many terrible possibilities that 
 she did not as yet dare to look at until, at least, she was 
 more satisfied as to the present. And how could she go to 
 her father with such a chaos of unformed wishes and fears to 
 place before him? That such a duty should have devolved 
 upon Ingram was certainly odd enough, but it was not her 
 doing. His knowledge of the position of these young peo- 
 ple was not derived from her. But, having got it, he had 
 himself asked her to leave the whole affair in his hands, with 
 that kindness and generosity which had more than once 
 filled her heart with an unspeakable gratitude loward him. 
 
 ' ; Well, you are a good fellow !" said Lavender to him, 
 when he heard of this decision. 
 
 Bah!" said the other with a shrug of his shoulders, "I 
 mean to amuse myself. I shall move you about like pieces 
 on a chess-board, and have a pretty game with you. How to 
 checkmate the king with a knight and a princess in any num- 
 ber of moves you like that is the problem; and my princess 
 has a strong power over the king where she is just now." 
 
 " It's an uncommonly awkward business, you know, In- 
 gram," said Lavender, ruefully. 
 
 " Well, it is. Old Mackenzie is a tough old fellow to deal 
 with, and you'll do no good by making a fight of it. Wait ! 
 Difficulties don't look so formidable when you take them one 
 by one as they turn up. If you really love the girl, and 
 mean to take your chance of getting her, and if she cares 
 enough for you to sacrifice a good deal for your sake, there 
 is nothing to fear." 
 
 " I can answer for myself, anyway," said Lavender, in a 
 tone of voice that Ingram rather liked; the young man did 
 not always speak with the same quietness, thoughtfulness, 
 and modesty. 
 
 And how naturally and easily it came about, after all! 
 They were back again at Borva. They had driven around 
 and about Lewis, and had finished up with Stomoway, 
 and, now that they had got back to the island in Loch Roag, 
 
Il6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 the quaint little drawing-room had, even to Lavender, a 
 homely and friendly look. The big stuffed fishes and the 
 sponge shells were old acquaintances; and he went to hunt 
 up Sheila's music just as if he had known that dusky corner 
 for years. 
 
 " Yes, yes," called Mackenzie, " it iss the English song 
 we will try now." 
 
 He had a notion that he was himself rather a good hand 
 at a part song just as Sheila had innocently taught him to 
 believe that he was a brilliant whist player when he had mas- 
 tered the art of returning his partner's lead but fortunately 
 at this moment he was engaged with a long pipe and a big 
 tu - ^bler of hot whisky and water. Ingram was similarly em- 
 ployed, lying back in a cane-bottomed easy-chair, and pla- 
 cidly watching the smoke ascending to the roof. Sometimes 
 h? cast an eye to the young folks at the other end of ihe 
 room. They formed a pretty sight, he thought. Lavender 
 was a good-looking fellow enough, and there was something 
 pleasing in the quiet and assiduous fashion in which he waited 
 upon Sheila, and in the almost timid way in which he spoke 
 to her. Sheila herself sat at the piano, clad all in slate-gray 
 silk, with a narrow band of scarlet velvet around her neck ; 
 and it was only by a chance turning of the head that Ingram 
 caught the tender and handsome profile, broken only by the 
 onward sweep of the long eyelashes. 
 
 " Love in thine eyes for ever plays," 
 
 Sheila sang, with her father keeping time by patting his fore- 
 finger on the table. 
 
 " He in thy snowy bosom strays," 
 
 sang Lavender; and then the two voices joined together : 
 
 " He makes thy rosy lips his care, 
 And walks the mazes of thy hair." 
 
 Or were there not three voices ? Surely, from the back 
 part of the room the musicians could hear a wandering bass 
 come in from time to time, especially at such portions as 
 " Ah, he never ah, he never touched thy heart !" which old 
 Mackenzie considered very touching. But there was some- 
 thing quaint and friendly and pleasant in the pathos of those 
 English songs, which made them far more acceptable to him 
 than Sheila's wild and melancholy legends of the sea. He sang 
 " Ah, he never, never touched thy heart !" with an outward 
 
A PRINCESS OF THUL& 117 
 
 expression of grief, but with much inward satisfaction. Was 
 it the quaint phraseology of the old duets that awoke in him 
 some faint ambition after histrionic effect? At all events, 
 Sheila proceeded to another of his favorites, " All's Well," 
 and here, amid the brisk music, the old man had an excel- 
 lent opportunity of striking in at random 
 
 The careful watch patrols the deck 
 To guard the ship from foes or wreck. 
 
 These two lines he had absolutely mastered, and always 
 sang them, whatever might be the key he happened to light 
 on, with great vigor. He soon went to the length of improvis- 
 ing a part for himself in the closing passages, and laid down 
 his pipe altogether as he sang 
 
 What cheer ? Brother, quickly tell ! 
 
 Above ! Below ! Good-night ! All, all's well 
 
 From that point, however, Sheila and her companion wan- 
 dered away into fields of melody whither the King of Borva 
 could not follow them; so he was content to resume his pipe 
 and listen placidly to the pretty airs. He caught but bits and 
 fragments of phrases and sentiments, but they evidently were 
 comfortable, merry, good-natured songs for the young folks 
 to sing. There was a good deal of love-making, and rosy 
 morns appearing, and merry zephyrs, and such odd things, 
 which, sung briskly and gladly by two young^and fresh voices, 
 rather drew the hearts of contemplative listeners to the 
 musicians. 
 
 " They sing very well, whatever," said Mackenzie with a 
 critical air to Ingram, when the young people were so busily 
 engaged with their own affairs as apparently to forget the 
 presence of the others. " Oh yes, they sing very well what- 
 ever; and what should the young folks sing about but making 
 love and courting, and all that ?" 
 
 "Natural enough," said Ingram, looking rather wistfully 
 at the two at the other end of the room. " I suppose Sheila 
 will have a sweetheart some day?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, Sheila will hef a sweetheart some day," said 
 her father, good-humored iy. " Sheila is a good-looking girl ; 
 she will hef a sweetheart some day." 
 
 " She will be marrying, too, I suppose," said Ingram cau- 
 tiously. 
 
 " Oh, yes, she will marry Sheila will marry ; what will be 
 the life of a young girl if she does not marry ?" 
 
lift 4 PRISCESS OF THtn.fi. 
 
 At this moment, as Ingram afterward described it, a sort 
 of " flash of inspiration " darted in upon him, and he re- 
 solved there and then to brave the wrath of the old king, and 
 place all the conspiracy before him, if only the music 
 kept loud enough to prevent his being overheard. 
 
 " It will be hard on you to part with Sheila when she 
 marries," said Ingram, scarcely daring to look up. 
 
 " Oh, ay, it will be that," said Mackenzie, cheerfully 
 enough. " But it iss every one will hef to do that, and no 
 great harm comes of it. Oh, no, it will not be much what- 
 ever ; and Sheila, she will be very glad in a little while after, 
 and it will be enough for me to see that she is ferry contented 
 and happy. The young folk must marry, you will see ; and 
 what is the use of marryiug if it is not when they are young ? 
 But Sheila, she will think of none of these things. It was 
 young Mr. Maclntyre of Sutherland you hef seen him last 
 year in Stornoway ; he has three thousand acres of a deer 
 forest in Sutherland and he will be ferry glad to marry my 
 Sheila. But I will say to him, ' It is not for me to say yes or 
 no to you, Mr. Maclntyre : it is Sheila herself will tell you 
 that.' But he was afraid to speak to her ; and Sheila herself 
 will know nothing of why he came twice to Borva the last 
 year." 
 
 "It is very good of you to leave Sheila quite unbiased in 
 her choice," said Ingram: " many fathers would have been 
 sorely tempted by that deer forest." 
 
 Old Mackenzie laughed a loud laugh of derision that fortu- 
 nately did not stop Lavender's execution of " I would that 
 my love would silently." 
 
 "What theteffle," said Mackenzie, "hef I to want a deer 
 forest for my Sheila? Sheila is no fisherman's lass. She 
 has plenty for herself, and she will marry just the young 
 man she wants to marry, and no other one; that is what she 
 will do, byKott!" 
 
 All this was most hopeful. If Mackenzie had himself been 
 advocating Lavender's suit, could he have said more ? But, 
 notwithstanding all these frank and generous promises, deal- 
 ing with a future which the old man considered as indefi- 
 nitely remote, Ingram was still afraid of the announcement 
 he was about to make. 
 
 *' Sheila is fortunately situated," he said, " in having a 
 father who thinks only of her happiness. But I suppose she 
 has never yet shown a preference for any one?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 1 19 
 
 I 
 
 " Not for any cne but yourself," said her father, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 And Ingram laughed, too, but in an embarrassed way, and 
 his sallow face grew darker with a blush. Was there not 
 something painful in the unintentional implication that of 
 course Ingram could not be considered a possible lover of 
 Sheila's, and that the girl herself was so well aware of it that 
 she could openly testify to her regard for him ? 
 
 "And it would be a good thing for Sheila," continued her 
 father, more gravely, " if there was any young man about the 
 Lewis that she would tek a liking to; for it will be some day 
 I can no more look after her, and it would be bad for her to 
 be left alone all by herself in the island." 
 
 " And you don't think you see before you now some one 
 who might take on him the charge of Sheila's future ?" said 
 Ingram, looking toward Lavender. 
 
 " The English gentleman?" said Mackenzie, with a smile. 
 " No, that anyway is not possible." 
 
 "I fancy it is more than possible," said Ingram, resolved 
 to go straight at it. " I know for a fact that he would like to 
 marry your daughter, and I think that Sheila, without know- 
 ing it herself almost, is well inclined toward him." 
 
 The old man started up from his chair: " Eh ? what! my 
 Sheila?" 
 
 " Yes, papa," said the girl, turning around at once. 
 
 She caught sight of a strange look on his face, and in an 
 instant was by his side; ''Papa, what is the matter with 
 you?" 
 
 " Nothing, Sheila, nothing," he said, impatiently. " I am 
 a little tired of the music, that is all. But go on with the 
 music. Go back to the piano, Sheila, and go on with the 
 music, and Mr. Ingram and me, we will go outside for a little 
 while." 
 
 Mackenzie walked out of the room, and said aloud in the 
 hall, " Ay, are you coming, Mr. Ingram? It iss a fine night, 
 this night, and the wind is in a very good way for the 
 weather." 
 
 And then, as he went out to the front, he hummed aloud, 
 so that Sheila should hear: 
 
 Who goes there ? Stranger, quickly tell ! 
 
 A friend! The word ? Good-night! All's well I 
 
 All's welll Good-night! All's well! 
 
 Ingram followed the old man outside, with a somewhat 
 
120 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 I 
 
 guilty conscience suggesting odd things to him. Woulc'i it 
 not be possible now to shut one's ears for the next half hour? 
 Angry words were only little perturbations in the air. If you 
 shut your ears till they were all over, what harm could be 
 done? All the big facts of life would remain the same. 
 The sea, the sky, the hills, the human beings around you ; 
 even your desire of sleep for the night, and your wholesome 
 longing for breakfast in the morning, would all remain, and 
 the angry words would have passed away. But perhaps it 
 was a proper punishment that he should now go out and 
 bear all the wrath of this fierce old gentleman, whose daugh- 
 ter he had conspired to carry off. Mackenzie was walking 
 up and down the path outside, in the cool and silent night. 
 There was not much moon now, but a clear and lambent 
 twilight showed all the familiar features of Loch Roag and 
 the Southern hills, and down there in the bay you could 
 vaguely make out the Maighdean-mharra rocking in the tiny 
 waves that washed in on the white shore. Ingram had never 
 looked on this pretty picture with a less feeling of delight ! 
 
 " Well, you see, Mr. Mackenzie," he was beginning, "you 
 must make this excuse for him " 
 
 But Mackenzie put aside Lavender at once. It was all 
 about Sheila that he wanted to know. There was no anger 
 in his words; only a great anxiety and sometimes an extra- 
 ordinary and pathetic effort to take a philosophical view of 
 the situation. What had Sheila said ? Was Sheila deeply 
 interested in the young man ? Would it please Sheila if he 
 was to go in-doors and give at once his free consent to her 
 marrying this Mr. Lavender ? 
 
 " Oh, you must not think," said Mackenzie, with a certain 
 loftiness of air, even amidst his great perturbation and anxiety 
 " you must not think I hef not foreseen all this. It wass 
 some day or other Sheila will be sure to marry; and although 
 I did not expect no, I did not expect that that she would 
 marry a stranger and an Englishman, if it will please her, that 
 is enough. You cannot tell a young lass the one she should 
 marry; it iss all a chance the one she likes, and if she does 
 not marry him it is better she will not marry at all. Oh, yes, 
 I know that ferry well. And 1 hef known there wass a time 
 coming when I would give away my Sheila to some young 
 man; and. there iss no use complaining of it. But you f^ef 
 not told me much about this young man, or I hef forgo*" ~*r. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 121 
 
 it is the same thing whatever. He has not much money, you 
 said he is waiting for some money. Well, this is what I 
 will do, I will give him all my money if he will come and live 
 in the Lewis." 
 
 All the philosophy he had been mustering up fell away 
 from that last sentence. It was like the cry of a drownnig 
 man who sees the last lifeboat set out for shore, leaving him 
 to his fate. And Ingram had not a word to say in reply to 
 that piteous entreaty. 
 
 " I do not ask him to stop in Borva; no, it iss a small place 
 for one that hass lived in a town. But the Lewis, that is 
 quite different ; and there iss very good houses in Storno- 
 way." 
 
 " But, surely, sir," said Ingram, " you need not consider all 
 this just yet. I am sure neither of them has thought any 
 such thing. 
 
 " No," said Mackenzie, recovering himself, " perhaps not. 
 But we hef our duties to look at the future of young folks. 
 And you will say that Mr. Lavender hass only expectations 
 of money?" 
 
 " Well, the expectation is almost a certainty. His aunt, I 
 have told you, is a very rich old lady, who has no other near 
 relations, and she is extremely fond of him, and would do 
 anything for him. I am sure the allowance he has now is 
 greatly in excess of what she spends on herself." 
 
 " But they might quarrel, you know they might quarrel. 
 You hef always to look to the future ; they might quarrel and 
 what will he do then ?" 
 
 " Why, you don't suppose he couldn't support himself if 
 the worst were to come to the worst ? He is an amazingly 
 clever fellow " 
 
 " Ah, that is very good," said Mackenzie in a cautious 
 sort of way, "but has he ever made any money?" 
 
 " Oh, I fancy not nothing to speak of. He has sold some 
 pictures, but I think he has given more away." 
 
 " Then it iss not easy, tek my word for it, Mr. Ingram, t(? 
 begin a new trade when you are twenty-five years of age, and 
 the people who will tek your pictures for nothing, will they 
 pay for them if you wanted the money ?" 
 
 It was obviously the old man's eager wish to prove to him- 
 self that, somehow or other, Lavender might come to have 
 no money, and be made dependent on his father-in-law. So 
 
122 A PRINCESS OF THULS. 
 
 far, indeed, from sharing tha sentiments ordinarily attributed 
 to that important relative, he would have welcomed with a 
 heartfelt joy the information that the man who, as re ex- 
 pected, was about to marry his daughter, was absolutely pen- 
 niless. Not even all the attractions of that deer forest in 
 Sutherlandshire particularly fascinating as they must have 
 been to a man of his education and surroundings had been 
 able to lead the old King of Borva even into hinting to his 
 daughter that the owner of that property would like to marry 
 her. Sheila was to choose for herself. She was not like a 
 fisherman's lass, bound to consider ways and means. And 
 now that she had chosen, or at least indicated the possibility 
 of her doing so, her father's chief desire was that his future 
 son-in-law should come and take and enjoy his money, so 
 only that Sheila might not be carried away from him for- 
 ever. 
 
 ' Well, I will see about it," said Mackenzie, with an affec- 
 tation of cheerful and practical shrewdness. " Oh, yes, I 
 will see about it when Sheila has made up her mind. He is 
 a very good young man, whatever 
 
 " He is the best-hearted fellow I know," said Ingram, 
 warmly. " I don't think Sheila has much to fear if she mar- 
 ries him. If you had known him as long as I have, you 
 would know how considerate he is to everybody about him, 
 how generous he is, how good-natured and cheerful, and so 
 forth ; in short, he is a thorough good fellow, and that's 
 what I have to say about him." 
 
 " It iss well for him he will hef such a champion," said 
 Mackenzie, with a smile ; " there is not many Sheila will pay 
 attention to as she does to you." 
 
 They went indoors again, Ingram scarcely knowing how 
 he had got so easily through the ordeal, but very glad it was 
 over. 
 
 Sheila was still at the piano, and on their entering she 
 said, ' Papa, here is a song you must learn to sing with me." 
 
 " And what iss it, Sheila?" he said, going over to her. 
 
 " 'Time has not thinned my flowing hair.'" 
 
 He put his hand on her head and said, " I hope it will be 
 a long time before he will thin your hair, Sheila." 
 
 The girl looked up surprised. Scotch folks are, as a rule, 
 somewhat reticent in their display of affection, and it was 
 not often that her father talked to her in that way. What was 
 
A MINCSSS Of THULfi. 12$ 
 
 there in his face that made her glance instinctively toward 
 Ingram. Somehow or other her hand sought her father's 
 hand, and she rose and went away from the piano, with her 
 head bent down and tears beginning to tell in her eyes. 
 
 " Yts, that is a capital song," said Ingram, loudly. " Sing 
 "The Arethusa,' Lavender 'Said the saucy Arethusa.'" 
 
 Lavender, knowing what had taken place, and not daring 
 io follow with his eyes Sheila and her father, who had gone 
 to the other end of the room, sang the song. Never was a 
 gallant and devil-may-care sea-song sung so hopelessly with- 
 out spirit. But the piano made a noise, and the verses took 
 up time. When he had finished he almost feared to turn 
 around, and yet there was nothing dreadful in the picture 
 that presented itself. Sheila was sitting on her father's knee, 
 with her head buried in his bosom, while he was patting her 
 head and talking in a low voice to her. The King of Borva 
 did not look particularly fierce. 
 
 " Yes, it iss a teffle of a good song," he said, suddenly. 
 " Now get up, Sheila, and go and tell Mairi we will have a 
 bit of bread and cheese before going to bed. And there 
 will be a little hot water wanted in the otter room, for this 
 room it iss too full of the smoke." 
 
 Sheila, as she went out of the room, had her head cast 
 down, and, perhaps, an extra tinge of color in her young 
 and pretty face. But surely, Lavender thought to himself as 
 he watched her anxiously, she did not look grieved. As for 
 her father, what should he do now ? Turn suddenly around 
 and beg Mackenzie's pardon, and throw himself on his gen- 
 erosity ? When he did, with much inward trembling, ven- 
 ture to approach the old man, he found no such explanation 
 possible. The King of Borva was in one of his grandest 
 moods dignified, courteous, cautious, and yet inclined to 
 treat everybody and everything with a sort of lofty good 
 humor. He spoke to Lavender in the most friendly way, 
 but it was about the singular and startling fact that modern 
 research had proved many of the Roman legends to be ut- 
 terly untrustworthy, Mr. Mackenzie observed that the man 
 was wanting in proper courage who feajed to accept the re- 
 sults of such inquiries. It was better that we should know 
 the truth, and then the kings who had really made Rome 
 great might emerge from the fog of tradition in their proper 
 There was something quite sympathetic in the way 
 
124 A I'fclNCKSS OF THULE. 
 
 he talked of those ill-trealed sovereigns, whom the vulgar 
 mind had clothed in mist. 
 
 Lavender was sorely beset by the rival claims of Rome 
 and Borva upon his attention. He was inwardly inclined to 
 curse Numa Pompilius which would have been ineffectual 
 when he found that personage interfering with a wild effort 
 to discover why Mackenzie should treat him in this way. 
 And then it occurred to him that, as he had never said a 
 word to Mackenzie about this affair, it was too much to ex- 
 pect that Sheila's father should himself open the subject. On 
 the contrary, Mackenzie was bent on extending a grave 
 courtesy to his guest, so that the latter should not feel ill at 
 ease until it suited himself to make any explanations he might 
 choose. It was not Mackenzie's business to ask this young 
 man if he wanted to marry Sheila. No. The king's 
 daughter, if she were to be won at all, was to be won by a 
 suitor; and it was not for her father to be in a hurry about 
 it. So Lavender got back into the region of early Roman 
 history, and tried to recall what he had learned in Livy, and 
 quite coincided with everything that Niebuhr had said or 
 proved, and with everything that Mackenzie thought 
 Niebuhr had said or proved. He was only too glad, 
 indeed, to find himself talking to Sheila's father in this friend- 
 ly fashion. 
 
 Then Sheila came in and told them that supper was laid 
 in the adjoining room. At that modest meal a great good 
 humor prevailed. Sometimes, it is true, it occurred to Ingram 
 that Sheila occasionally cast an anxious glance to her father, 
 as if she were trying to discover whether he was really satis- 
 fied, or whether he were not merely pretending satisfaction 
 to please her ; but for the rest the party was a most friendly 
 and merry one. Lavender, naturally enough, was in the 
 highest of spirits, and nothing could exceed the light-hearted 
 endeavors he made to amuse, and interest, and cheer his 
 companions. Sheila, indeed, sat up later than usual, even 
 although pipes were lit again, and the slate-gray silk likely to 
 bear witness to the fact in the morning. How comfortable 
 and homely was this sjort of life in the remote stone building 
 overlooking the sea ! He began to think that he could live 
 always in Borva if only Sheila were with him as his com- 
 panion. 
 
 Was it an actual fact, then, he asked himself next morn- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 125 
 
 ing, that he stood confessed to the small world of Borva as 
 Sheila's accepted lover? Not a word on the subject had 
 passed between Mackenzie and himself, and yet he found 
 himself assuming the position of a younger relative, and 
 rather expecting advice from the old man. He began to take 
 a great interest too, in the local administration of the island. 
 He examined the window-fastenings of Mackenzie's house, 
 and saw that they would be useful in the winter, and ex- 
 pressed to Sheila's father his confidential opinion that the 
 girl should not be allowed to go out in the Maighdean- 
 mhara without Duncan. 
 
 " She will know as much about boats as Duncan himself,*' 
 said her father, with a smile. "But Sheila will not go out 
 when the rough weather begins." 
 
 " Of course, you keep her indoors then," said the younger 
 man, already assuming some little charge over Sheila's 
 comfort. 
 
 The father laughed aloud at this simplicity on the part of 
 the Englishman: 
 
 " If we wass to keep indoors in the bad weather, it would 
 be all the winter we would be indoors ! There iss no day 
 at all Sheila will not be out some time or other; and she is 
 never so well as in the hard weather, when she will be out 
 always in the snow and the frost, and hef plenty of exercise 
 and amusement." 
 
 " She is not often ailing, I suppose ?" said Lavender. 
 
 " She is as strong as a young pony, that's what Sheila k," 
 said her father, proudly. " And there's no one in the island 
 will run so fast, or walk so long without tiring, or carry things 
 from the shore as she will not one." 
 
 But here" he suddenly checked himself. * That is," he 
 said, with some little expression of annoyance, "I wass say- 
 ing Sheila could do that if it wass any use; but she will not 
 do such things, like a fisherman's lass that hass to keep in the 
 work." 
 
 "Oh, of course not," said Lavender, hastily. "But still, 
 you know, it is pleasant to know she is so strong and well." 
 
 And at this moment Sheila herself appeared, accompanied 
 by her great deerhound, and testifying by the bright color 
 in her face to the assurances of her health her father had 
 been giving. She had just come up and over the hill at 
 Borvapost, while as yet breakfast had not been served 
 
126 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Somehow or other, Lavender fancied she never looked so 
 bright and bold and handsome as in the early morning, with 
 the fresh sea-air tingling the color of her cheeks, and the sun- 
 light shining in the clear eyes or giving from time to time a 
 glimpse of her perfect teeth. But this morning she did not seem 
 quite so frankly merry as usual. She patted herdeerhound's 
 head, and rather kept her eyes away from her father and 
 his companions. And then she took Brass away to give him 
 his breakfast, just as Ingram appeared to bid her good-morn 
 ing and ask her what she meant by being about so early. 
 
 How anxiously Lavender now began to calculate on the 
 remaining days of their stay in Borva ! They seemed so 
 few. He got up at preposterously early hours to make each 
 day as long as possible, but it slipped away with a fatal speed ; 
 and already he began to think of Stornoway and the Clans- 
 man and his bidding good-bye to Sheila. He had said no 
 more to her of any pledge as regarded the future. He was 
 content to see that she was pleased to be with him ; and 
 happy indeed were their rambles about the island, their 
 excursions in Sheila's boat, their visits to the White Water in 
 search of salmon. Nor had he yet spoken to Sheila's father. 
 He knew that Mackenzie knew, and both seemed to take it 
 for granted that no good could come of a formal explanation 
 until Sheila herself should make her wishes known. That, 
 indeed, was the only aspect of the case that apparently pre- 
 sented itself to the old King of Borva. He forgot altogether 
 those precautions and investigations which are supposed to 
 occupy the mind of a future father-in-law, and only sought 
 to see how Sheila was affected toward the young man who 
 was soon about to leave the island. When he saw her pleased 
 to be walking with Lavender and talking with him of an 
 evening, he was pleased, and would rather have a cold din- 
 ner than break in upon them to hurry them home. When 
 he saw her disappointed because Lavender had been unfor- 
 tunate in his salmon-fishing, he was ready to swear at Duncan 
 for not having had the fish in better temper. And the most 
 of his conversation with Ingram consisted of an endeavor 
 to convince himself that, after all, what had happened was 
 for the best, and that Sheila seemed to be happy. 
 
 But somehow or other, when the time for their departure 
 was drawing near, Mackenzie showed a strange desire that 
 his guests should spend the last two days in Stornoway. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 127 
 
 When Lavender first heard this proposal he glanced towards 
 Sheila, and his face showed clearly his disappointment. 
 
 "But Sheila will go with us, too," said her father, replying 
 to that unuttered protest in the most innocent fashion ; and 
 then Lavender's face brightened again, and he said that 
 nothing would give him greater pleasure than to spend two 
 days in Stornoway. 
 
 "And you must not think," said Mackenzie, anxiously, 
 *" that one day or two days or a great many days will show 
 you all the fine things about Siornoway. And if you were to 
 live in Stornoway you would find very good acquaintances 
 and friends there; and in the autumn, when the shooting be- 
 gins, there are many English who will come up, and there 
 will be ferry great doings at the castle. And there is some 
 gentlemen now at Grimersta whom you hef not seen, and 
 they are ferry fine gentlemen ; and at Garra-na-hina there iss 
 two more gentlemen for the salmon -fishing. Oh, there iss a 
 great many fine people in the Lewis, and it i not all as 
 lonely as Borva." 
 
 " If it is half as pleasant a pKace to live in as Borva, it will 
 do," said Lavender, with a flush of enthusiasm in his face, as 
 he looked toward Sheila, and saw her pleased and downcast 
 eyes. 
 
 " But it iss not to be compared,'* said Mackenzie, eagerly. 
 " Borva, that is nothing at all; but the Lewis, it is a ferry 
 different thing to live in the Lewis; and many English gen- 
 tlemen hef told me they would like to live always in the 
 Lewis." 
 
 " I think I should, too," said Lavender, lightly and care- 
 lessly, little thinking what importance the old man immedi- 
 ately and gladly put upon the admissson. 
 
 From that moment, Lavender, though unconscious of what 
 had happened, had nothing to fear in the way of opposition 
 from Sheila's father. If he had there and then boldy asked 
 Mackenzie for his daughter, the old man would have given 
 his consent freely, and bade Lavender to go to Sheila her- 
 self. 
 
 And so they set sail, one pleasant afternoon, from Borva- 
 post, and the light wind that ruffled the blue of Loch Roag 
 gently filled the mainsail of the Maighdean-mhara as she 
 lightly ran down the tortuous channel. 
 
 "I don't like to go away from Borva," said Lavender, in ? 
 
128 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 low voice, to Sheila, "but I might have been leaving the 
 island with greater regret, for, you know, I expect to be back 
 soon." 
 
 "We shall always be glad to see you,'' said the girl ; al- 
 though he would rather have had her say "I" than "we," 
 there was something in the tone of her voice that contented 
 him. 
 
 At Garra-na-hina, Mackenzie pointed out with a great in- 
 terest to Lavender a tall man who was going down through 
 some meadows to the Amhuinn Dhubh, "the Black River." 
 He had a long rod over his shoulder, and behind him, at 
 some distance, followed a shorter man, who carried a gaff 
 and landing-net. Mackenzie anxiously explained to Laven- 
 der that the tall figure was that of an Englishman. Laven- 
 der accepted the statement. But would he not go down to 
 the river and make his acquaintance 1 Lavender could not 
 understand why he should be expected to take so great an 
 interest in an ordinary English sportsman. 
 
 "Ferry well," said Mackenzie, a trifle disappointed, "but 
 you would find several of the English in the Lewis if you 
 was living here." 
 
 These two days in Stornoway were very pleasant. On 
 their previous visit to the town, Mackenzie had given up 
 much of his time to business affairs, and was a good deal 
 away from his guests, but now he devoted himself to making 
 them particularly comfortable in the place, and amusing 
 them in every possible way. He introduced Lavender, in 
 especial, to all his friends there, and was most anxious to 
 impress on the young man that life in Stornoway was, on the 
 whole, rather a brilliant affair. Then was there a finer point 
 from which you could start at will for Inverness, Oban, and 
 such great centres of civilization ? Very soon there would 
 even be a telegraphic cable laid to the mainland. Was 
 Mr. Lavender aware that frequently you could see the Suther- 
 land hills from this very town of Stornoway? 
 
 There Sheila laughed, and Lavender, who kept watching 
 her face always, to read all her fancies and sentiments and 
 wishes in the shifting lights of it, immediately demanded an 
 explanation. 
 
 " It is no good thing," said Sheila, " to see the Sutherland 
 hills often, for when you see them it means to rain." 
 
 But Lavender had not been taught to fear the rain of the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 1 2 9 
 
 Western Isles. The weather seemed to have conspired with 
 Mackenzie to charm the young man with the island. At this 
 moment, for example, they were driving away from Storno- 
 way along the side of the great bay Northward, until it finds 
 its furtherest promontory in Tiumpan Head. What magni- 
 ficence of color shone around them in the hot sunlight ! 
 Where the ruffled blue sea came near the long sweep of yei- 
 low sand, it grew to a bright transparent green. The 
 splendid curve of the bay showed a gleaming line of white 
 where the waves broke in masses of hissing foam ; and be- 
 yond that curve again long promontories of dark red con- 
 glomerate ran out into the darker waters of the sea, with 
 their summits shining with the bright sea-grass. Here, close 
 at hand, were warm meadows, with calves and lambs crop- 
 ping the sweet-scented Dutch clover. A few huts, shaped 
 like bee-hives, stood by the roadside, close by some deep 
 peat cuttings. There was a cutting in the yellow sand of the 
 bay for the pulling up of the captured whales. Now and 
 then you could see a solan dart down from the blue heavens 
 into the deep blue of the sea, sending up a spurt of water 
 twenty feet high as he disappeared ; and far onward between 
 the red precipices and the ruffled waters herds of white sea- 
 fowl flew from crag to crag, or dropped upon the sea to rise 
 and fall with the waves. 
 
 At the small hamlet of Gress they got a large rowing-boat 
 manned by sturdy fishermen, and set out to explore the great 
 caves formed in the mighty wall of conglomerate that here 
 fronts the sea. The wild-fowl flew about them, screaming 
 and yelling at being disturbed. The long swell of the sea 
 lifted the boat, passed from under it, and went on with 
 majestic force to crash on the glowing red crags and send jets 
 of foam flying up the face of them. They captured one of 
 the sea-birds a young thing about as big as a hen, with star- 
 ing eyes, scant feathers, and a long beak with which it in- 
 stinctively tried to bite its enemies and the parents of it 
 kept swooping down over the boat, uttering shrill cries, until 
 their offspring was restored to the surface of the water. They 
 went into the great loud-sounding caverns, getting a new im- 
 pression of the extraordinary clearness of the sea-water by 
 the depth at which the bottom was visible ; and here their 
 shouts occasionally called up from some dim twilight recess, 
 far in among the perilous rocks, the head of a young seal, 
 
130 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 which would instantly dive again and be seen no more. They 
 watched the salmon splash in the shallower creeks where the 
 sea had scooped out a tiny bay of ruddy sand, and then a 
 slowly rolling porpoise would show his black back above the 
 water and silently disappear again. All this was pleasant 
 enough on a pleasant morning, in fresh sea-air and sunlight, 
 in holiday time ; and was there any reason, Mackenzie may 
 fairly have thought, why this young man, if he did marry 
 Sheila, should not come and live in a place where so much 
 healthy amusement was to be found ? 
 
 And in the evening, too, when they had climbed to the top 
 of the hills on the South of Stornoway harbor, did not the 
 little town look sufficiently picturesque, with its white houses, 
 its shipping, its great castle and plantations lying in shadow 
 under the green of the Eastern sky ? Then away to the West 
 what a strange picture presented itself ! Thick bands of 
 gray cloud lay across the sky, and the sunlight from behind 
 them sent down great rays of misty yellow on the endless 
 miles of moor. But how was it that, as these shafts of sun- 
 light struck on the far and successive ridges of the moorland, 
 each long undulation seemed to become transparent, and all 
 the island appeared to consist of great golden-brown 
 shells heaped up behind each other, with the sunlight shining 
 through? 
 
 "I have tried a good many new effects since coming up 
 here," said Lavender, "but I shall not try that." 
 
 " Oh, it iss nothing it iss nothing at all," said Mackenzie 
 with a stupid air of unconcern. " There iss much more 
 beautiful things than that in the island, but you will hef need 
 of a ferry long time before you will find it all out. That 
 that iss nothing at all." 
 
 " You will perhaps make a picture of it some other time," 
 said Sheila, with her eyes cast down, and as he was standing 
 by her at the time, he took her hand and pressed it and said, 
 "I hope so." 
 
 Then, that night. Did not every hour produce some 
 new and wonderful scene, or was it only that each minute 
 grew to be so precious, and that the enchantment of Sheila's 
 presence filled the air around him? There was no moon, but 
 the stars shone over the bay and the harbor and the dusky 
 hills beyond the castle. Every few seconds the light-house 
 at Arnis>h Point sent out its wild glare of orange fire into the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 131 
 
 heart of the clear darkness, and then as suddenly faded out 
 and left the eyes too bewildered to make out the configura- 
 tion of the rocks. All over the Northwest there still re- 
 mained the pale glow of the twilight, and somehow Lavender 
 seemed to think that that strange glow belonged to Sheila's 
 home in the West, and that the people in Stornoway knew 
 nothing of the wonders of Loch Roag and of the nights 
 there. Was he likely ever to forget? 
 
 " Good-bye, Sheila," he said next morning, when the last 
 signal had been given and the Clansman was about to move 
 from her moorings. 
 
 She had bidden good-bye to Ingram already, but some- 
 how she could not speak to his companion just at this last 
 moment. She pressed his hand and turned away, and went 
 ashore with her father. Then the big steamer throbbed its 
 way out of the harbor, and by and by the island of Lewis 
 lay but as a thin blue cloud along the horizon ; and who could 
 tell that human beings, with strange hopes and fancies and 
 griefs, were hidden away in that pale line of vapor ? 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 c FAREWELL, MACKRIM'fON !' 
 
 A NIGHT journey from Greenock to London is a sufficiently 
 prosaic affair in ordinary circumstances, but it need not be al- 
 ways so. What if a young man, apparently occupied in mak- 
 ing himself comfortable and in talking nonsense to his friend 
 and companion, should be secretly calculating how the 
 journey could be made most pleasant to a bride, and that 
 bride his bride ? Lavender made experiments with regard 
 to the ways and tempers of guards; he borrowed planks of 
 wood with which to make sleeping-couches of an ordinary 
 first-class carriage ; he bribed a certain official to have the 
 compartment secured ; he took note of the time when, and 
 the place where, refreshments could be procured; all these 
 things he did, thinking of Sheila. And when Ingram, some- 
 times surprised by his good-nature, and occasionally remon- 
 strating against his extravagance, at last fell asleep on the 
 more or less comfortable cushions stretched across the planks, 
 Lavender would have him wake up again, that he might be 
 
1*2 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 induced to talk once more about Sheila. Ingram would make 
 use of some wicked words, rub his eyes, ask what was the last 
 station they had passed, and then begin to preach to Laven- 
 der about the great obligations he was under to Sheila, and 
 what would be expected of him in after times. 
 
 "You are coming away just now," he would say, while 
 Lavender, who could not sleep at all, was only anxious that 
 Sheila's name should be mentioned, " enriched with a greater 
 treasure than falls to the lot of most men. If you know how 
 to value that treasure, there is not a king or emperor in Europe 
 who should not envy you." 
 
 " But don't you think I value it ?" the other would say, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " We'll see about that afterwards, by what you do. But 
 in the meantime you don't know what you have won. You 
 don't know the magnificent single-heartedness of that girl, 
 her keen sense of honor, nor the strength of character, of 
 judgment and decision that lies beneath her apparent sim- 
 plicity. Why, I have known Sheila now But what's the 
 use of talking?" 
 
 " I wish you would talk, though, Ingram," said his com- 
 panion, quite submissively. " You have known her longer 
 than I. I am willing to believe all you say of her, and 
 anxious, indeed, to know as much about her as possible. 
 You don't suppose I fancy she is anything kss than you say?" 
 "Well," said Ingram, doubtfully, "perhaps not. The 
 worst of it is, that you take such odd readings of people. 
 However, when you marry her, as I now hope you may, you 
 will soon find out; and then, if you are not grateful, if you 
 don't understand and appreciate then the fine qualities of 
 this girl, the sooner you put a millstone around your neck and 
 drop over Chelsea Bridge the better." 
 
 " She will always have in you a good friend to look after 
 her when she comes to London." 
 
 "Oh, don't imagine 1 mean to thrust myself in at your 
 breakfast table to give you advice. If a husband and wife 
 cannot manage their own affairs satisfactorily, no third per- 
 son can ; and I am getting to be an elderly man, who likes 
 peace and comfort and his own quiet." 
 
 " I wish you wouldn't talk such nonsense," said Lavender 
 impetuously. " You-know you are bound to marry, and the 
 woman you ask to marry you will be a precious fool if she re- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 133 
 
 fuses. I don't know, indeed, how you and Sheila ever es- 
 caped '' 
 
 " Look here, Lavender," said his companion, speaking in 
 a somewhat more earnest fashion, " if you marry Sheila 
 Mackenzie I suppose I may see something of both of you 
 from time to time. But you are naturally jealous and exact- 
 ing, as is the way with many good fellows who have had too 
 much of their own will in the world ; and if you start off 
 with the notion now that Sheila and I might ever have mar- 
 ried, or that such a thing was ever thought of by either of 
 us, the certain consequence will be that you will become 
 jealous of me, and that in time I shall have to stop seeing 
 either of you if you happen to be living in London." 
 
 "And if ever the time comes,'' said Lavender, lightly, 
 " when I prove myself such a fool, I hope I shall remember 
 that a millstone can be bought in Victoria road and that 
 Chelsea Bridge is handy." 
 
 ' All right ; I'm going to sleep." 
 
 For sometime after Ingram was permitted to rest in peace, 
 and it was not until they had reached some big station or 
 other toward morning that he woke. Lavender had never 
 closed his eyes. 
 
 ' Haven't you been asleep?" 
 No." 
 ; What's the matter now?" 
 
 ' My aunt." 
 
 ' You seemed to have acquired a trick recently of looking 
 at all the difficulties of your position at once. Why don't you 
 take them singly ? You've just got rid of Mackenzie's op- 
 position; that might have contented you for a while." 
 
 " I think the best plan will be to say nothing of this to my 
 aunt, at present. I think we ought to get married first, and 
 when I take Sheila to see her as my wife, what can she say 
 then?" 
 
 " But what is Sheila likely to say before then? And Sheila's 
 father? You must be out of your mind." 
 
 " There will be a pretty scene, then, when I tell her." 
 
 "Scenes don't hurt anybody, unless when they end in 
 brickbats or decanters. Your aunt must know you would 
 marry some day." 
 
 " Yes, but you know whom she wished me to marry," 
 
 " That's nothing. Every old lady has a fancy for imagin- 
 
I-J4 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 ing possible marriages ; but your aunt is a reasonable woman, 
 and could not possibly object to your marrying a girl like 
 SneJa." 
 
 " Oft, couldn't she ? Then you don't know her ; ' Frank, my 
 dear, what are the arms borne by your wife's family?' ' My 
 dear aunt I will describe them to you as becomes a dutiful 
 nephew. .The arms are quarterly; first and fourth, vert, a 
 herring, argent ; second and third, azure, a solan-goose, volant, 
 or. The crest, out of a crown vallery, argent, a cask of 
 whisky, gules. Supporters, dexter, a gillie; sinister, a fisher- 
 man.'" 
 
 " And * very good coat-of-arms, too. You might add the 
 motto Zsttimus regum. Or Atavis editus regibus. Or 
 Tyrrhena regum progenies. To think that your aunt would 
 forbid you wedding a king's daughter !" 
 
 " I shou d wed the king's daughter, aunt or no aunt, in 
 any case; out, you see, it would be uncommonly awkward, 
 just as old Mackenzie would want to know something more 
 particular about my circumstances; and he might ask for re- 
 ferences to the old lady herself, just as if I were a tenant 
 about to take a house." 
 
 " I have given him enough references. Go to sleep, and 
 don't bother yourself.'' 
 
 But now Ingram found himself just as unable as his com- 
 panion to escape into unconsciousness, and so he roused 
 himself thoroughly, and began to talk about Lewis and Borva 
 and the Mackenzies, and the duties and responsibilities 
 Lavender would undertake in marrying Sheila. 
 
 "Mackenzie," he said, "will expect you to live in Storno- 
 way at least half the year, and it will be very hard on him if 
 you don't." 
 
 "Oh, as to that," said the other, "I should have no ob- 
 jection; but, you see, if I am to get married I really think I 
 ought to try to get into some position of earning my own liv- 
 ing or helping toward it, you know; I begin to see how gall- 
 ing this sort of dependence on my aunt might be if I wished 
 to act for myself. Now, if I were to begin to do anything, 
 I could not go and bury myself in Lewis for half the year 
 just at first ; by and by, you know, it might be different. But 
 don't you think I ought to begin and do something ?" 
 
 " Most certainly. I have often wished you had been born 
 a carpenter or painter or glazier" 
 
A PRINCESS Of THULE. t$$ 
 
 '' People are not born carpenters or glaziers, but some- 
 times they are born painters. I think I have ben born 
 nothing ; but I am willing to try, more especially as I think 
 Sheila would like it." 
 
 " I know she would." 
 
 "I will write and tell her the moment I get to London. 57 
 
 " I would fix first what your occupation was to be, if I were 
 you. There is no hurry about telling Sheila, although she 
 will be very glad to get as much news of you as possible, and 
 I hope you will spare no time or trouble in pleasing her in 
 that line. By-the-way, what an infamous shame it was of you 
 to go and gammon old Mackenzie into the belief that he can 
 read poetry! Why, he will make that girl's life a burden to 
 her. I heard him propose to read Paradise Lost to her as 
 soon as the rain set in." 
 
 " I didn't gammon him," said Lavender-, with a laugh, 
 " Every man thinks he can read poetry better than every 
 other man, even as every man fancies that no one gets cigars 
 as good and as cheap as he does, and that no one can drive 
 a horse safely but himself. My talking about his reading was 
 not as bad as Sheila's persuading him that he can play whist. 
 Did you ever know a man who did not believe that everybody 
 else's reading of poetry was affected, stilted and unbearable? 
 I know Mackenzie must have been reading poetry to Sheila 
 long before I mentioned it to him." 
 
 " But that suggestion about his resonant voice and the 
 Crystal Palace !" 
 
 " That was a joke." 
 
 " He did not take it as a joke, and neither did Sheila." 
 
 "Well, Sheila would believe that her father could 
 command the Channel fleet, or turn out the present 
 ministry, or build a bridge to America, if only anybody 
 hinted it to her. Touching that Crystal Palace; did you ob- 1 
 serve how little notion of size she could have got from pic- 
 tures when she asked me if the Crystal Palace was much big- 
 ger than the hot-houses at Lewis Castle ?" 
 
 "What a world of wonder the girl is coming into!" said 
 the other, meditatively. " But it will be all lit up by one sun 
 if only you take care of her and justify her belief in you." 
 
 " I have not much doubt." said Lavender, with a certain 
 modest confidence in his manner, which had repeatedly o{ 
 late pleased his friend. 
 
i$6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Even Sheila herself could scarcely have found London 
 more strange than did the two men who had just returned 
 from a month's sojourn in the Northern Hebrides. The dingy 
 trees in Euston Square, the pale sunlight that shone down on 
 the gray pavements, the noise of the omnibuses and carts, 
 the multitude of strangers, the blue and mist-like smoke that 
 hung about Tottenham Court Road all were as strange to 
 them as the sensation of sitting in a hansom and being driven 
 along by an unseen driver. Lavender confessed afterward 
 that he was pervaded by an odd sort of desire to know 
 whether there was anybody in London at all like Sheila. Now 
 and again a smartly-dressed girl passed along the pavement ; 
 what was it that made the difference between her and the 
 other girl whom he had just left ? yet he wished to have the 
 difference as decided as possible, when some bright, fresh- 
 colored, pleasa'nt-looking girl passed, he was anxious to prove 
 to himself that she was not to be compared with Sheila. 
 Where in all London could you find eyes that told so much ? 
 He forgot to place the specialty of Sheila's eyes in the fact 
 of their being a dark gray-blue under black eyelashes. What 
 he did remember was that no eyes could possibly say the 
 same things to him as they had said. And where in all Lon- 
 don was the same sweet aspect to be found, or the same un- 
 consciously proud and gentle demeanor, or the same tender 
 friendliness expressed in a beautiful face ? He would not 
 say anything against London women for all that. It was no 
 fault of theirs that they could not be sea-kings' daughters, 
 with the courage and frankness and sweetness of the sea gone 
 into their blood. He was only too pleased to have proved 
 to himself, by looking at some half-dozen pretty shop-girls, 
 that not in London was there any one to compare with Prin- 
 cess Sheila. 
 
 For many a day thereafter Ingram had to suffer a good 
 deal of this sort of lover's logic, and bore it with great forti- 
 tude. Indeed, nothing pleased him more than to observe 
 that Lavender's affection, so far from waning, engrossed 
 more and more of his thought and his time; and he listened 
 with unfailing good-nature and patience to the perpetual talk 
 of his friend about Sheila and her home, and the future that 
 might be in store for both of them. If he had accepted 
 half the invitations to dinner sent down to him at the Board 
 of Trade by his friend, he would scarcely ever have been 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. Itf 
 
 out of Lavender's club. Many a long evening they passed in 
 this vray either in Lavender's rooms in King street or in 
 Ingram's lodgings in Sloane street. Ingram quite consented 
 to lie in a chair and smoke, sometimes putting in a word of 
 caution to bring Lavender back from the romantic Sheila to 
 the real Sheila, sometimes smiling at some wild proposal or 
 statement on the part of his friend, but always glad to see, 
 that the pretty idealisms planted during their stay in the far 
 North were in no danger of dying out down here in the South. 
 Those were great days, too, when a letter arrived from 
 Sheila. Nothing had been said about their corresponding, 
 but Lavender had written shortly after his arrival in London 
 and Sheila had answered for her father and herself. It wanted 
 but a very little amount of ingenuity to continue the inter- 
 change of letters thus begun; and when the well-known en- 
 velope arrived high holiday was immediately proclaimed by 
 the recipient of it. He did not show Ingram these letters, 
 of course, but the contents of them were soon bit by bit re- 
 vealed. He was also permitted to see the envelope, as if 
 Sheila's handwriting had some magical charm about it. Some- 
 times, indeed, Ingram had himself a letter from Sheila, and 
 that was immediately shown to Lavender. Was he pleased to 
 find that these communications were excessively business-like 
 describing how the fishing was going on, what was doing in 
 the schools, and how John the Piper was conducting himself, 
 with talk about the projected telegraphic cable, the shooting 
 in Harris, the health of Bras, and other esoteric matters? 
 
 Lavender's communications with the King of Borva were 
 of a different nature. Wonderful volumes on building, 
 agriculture, and what not, tobacco hailing from certain royal 
 sources in the neighborhood of the Pyramids, and now and 
 again a new sort of rifle or some fresh invention in fishing- 
 tackle these were the sort of things that found their way to 
 Lewis. And then in reply came haunches of venison, and 
 kegs of rare whisky and skins of wild animals, which, all very 
 admirable in their way, were a trifle cumbersome in a couple 
 of moderate rooms in King street, St. James'. But here 
 Lavender hit upon a happy device. He had long ago talked 
 to his aunt about the mysterious potentate in the far North, 
 who was the ruler of man, beast and fish, and who had an 
 only daughter. When these presents arrived, Mrs. Lavender 
 was informed that they were meant for her, and was given to 
 
138 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 understand that they were the propitiatory gifts of a half, 
 savage monarch who wished to seek her friendship. In vain 
 did Ingram warn Lavender of the possible danger of this 
 foolish joke. The young man laughed, and would comedown 
 to Sloane street with another story of his success as an envoy 
 of the distant King. 
 
 And so the months went slowly by, and Lavender raved 
 about Sheila, and dreamed about Sheila, and was always going 
 to begin some splendid achievement for Sheila's sake, but 
 never just managed to begin. After all, the future did not 
 look very terrible, and the present was satisfactory enough. 
 Mrs. Lavender had no objection whatever to listening to his 
 praises of Sheila, and had even gone the length of approv- 
 ing of the girl's photograph when it was shown her. But at 
 the end of six months Lavender suddenly went down to 
 Sloane street, found Ingram in his lodgings, and said, "In- 
 gram, I start for Lewis to-morrow." 
 
 ' The mofe fool you!" was the complacent reply. 
 
 " I can't bear this any longer; I must go and see her." 
 
 " You'll have to bear worse if you go. You don't know 
 what getting to Lewis is in the Winter. You'll be killed with 
 cold before you see the Minch." 
 
 " I can stand a good bit of cold when there's a reason for 
 it," said the young man ; "and I have written to Sheila to say 
 I should start to-morrow." 
 
 " In that case I had better make use of you. I suppose 
 you won't mind taking up to Sheila a sealskin jacket that I 
 have bought for her ?" 
 
 " That you have bought for her!" said the other. 
 
 How could he have spared fifteen pounds out of his narrow 
 income for such a present? And yet he laughed at the idea of 
 his ever having been in love with Sheila. 
 
 Lavender took the sealskin jacket with him, and started on 
 his journey to the North. It was certainly all that Ingram 
 had phophesied in the way of discomfort, hardship and de- 
 lay. But one forenoon, Lavender, coming up from the cab in 
 of the steamer into which he had descended to escape from 
 the bitter wind and the sleet, saw before him a strange thing. 
 In the middle of the black sea and under a dark gray sky lay 
 a long wonder-land of gleaming snow. Far as the eye could 
 see the successive headlands of pale white jutted out into the 
 dark ocean, until in the South they faded into a gray mist 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE, 139 
 
 and became invisible. And when they got into Stornoway 
 harbor, how black seemed the waters of the little bay, and 
 the hulls of the boats, and the windows of the houses against 
 the blinding white of the encircling hills! 
 
 " Yes," said Lavender to the captain, " it will be a cold 
 drive across to Loch Roag. I shall give Mackenzie's man a 
 good dram before we start." 
 
 But it was not Mackenzie's notion of hospitality to send 
 Duncan to meet an honored guest, and ere the vessel was fast 
 moored Lavender had caught sight of the well-known pair of 
 horses and the brown wagonette, and Mackenzie stamping 
 up and down in the trampled snow. And this figure close 
 down to the edge of the quay ? Surely, there was something 
 about the thick gray shawl, the white feather, the set of the 
 head, that he knew ! 
 
 "Why, Sheila!" he cried, jumping ashore before the gang- 
 way was shoved across, " whatever made you come to Storno- 
 way on such a day ? 
 
 "And it is not much my coming to Stornoway, if you will 
 come all the way from England to the Lewis," said Sheila, 
 looking up with her bright and glad eyes. 
 
 For six months he had been trying to recall the tones of 
 her voice in looking at her picture, and had failed; now he 
 fancied that she spoke more sweetly and musically than ever. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Mackenzie, when he had shaken hands with 
 the young man, " it wass a piece of foolishness, her coming 
 over to meet you in Styornoway; but the girl will be neither 
 to hold nor to bind when she teks a foolishness into her 
 head." 
 
 " Is this the character I hear of you, Sheila?" he said; 
 and Mackenzie laughed at his daughter's embarrassment, and 
 said she was a good lass for all that, and bundled both the 
 young folks into the inn, where luncheon had been provided, 
 with a blazing fire in the room, and a kettle of hot water 
 steaming beside it. 
 
 When they got to Borva, Lavender began to see that 
 Mackenzie had laid the most subtle plans for reconciling him 
 to the hard weather of these Northern Winters; and the 
 young man, nothing loth, fell into his ways, and was aston- 
 ished at the amusement and interest that could be got out of 
 a residence in this bleak island at such a season. Mackenzie 
 discarded at once the feeble protection against cold and wet 
 
I4O A PRINCESS OF THULL 
 
 which his guest had brought with him. He gave him a pait 
 of his own knickerbockers and enormous boots; he made 
 him wear a frieze coat borrowed from Duncan; he insisted 
 on his turning down the flap of a sealskin cap and tying the 
 ends under his chin; and thus equipped they started on many 
 a rare expedition around the coast. But on their first going 
 out, Mackenzie, looking at him, said with some chagrin, 
 " Will they wear gloves when they go shooting in ycur coun- 
 try?" 
 
 " Oh," said Lavender, "these are only a pair of old dog- 
 skins I use chiefly to keep my hands clean. You see I have 
 cut out the trigger finger. And they keep your hands from 
 being numbed, you know, with the cold or the rain." 
 
 "There will be not much need of that after a little while," 
 said Mackenzie; and indeed, after half an hour's tramping 
 over snow and climbing over rocks, Lavender was well in- 
 clined to please the old man by tossing the gloves into the 
 sea, for his hands were burning with heat. 
 
 Then the pleasant evenings after all the fatigues of the 
 day were over, clothes changed, dinner despatched, and 
 Sheila at the open piano in that warm little drawing-room, 
 with its strange shells and fishes and birds! 
 
 Love in thine eyes for ever plays ; 
 He in thy snowy bosom strays, 
 
 they sang, just as in the by-gone times of Summer; and now 
 old Mackenzie had got on a bit further in his musical studies, 
 and could hum with the best of them, 
 
 He makes thy rosy lips his care ? 
 And walks the mazes of thy hair. 
 
 There was no Winter at all in the snug little room, with its 
 crimson fire and closed shutters and songs of happier times. 
 " When the rosy morn appearing" had nothing inappropriate 
 in it; and if they particularly studied the words of" Oh wert 
 thou in the cauld blast," it was only that Sheila might teach 
 her companion the Scotch prenunication, as far as she knew 
 it. And once, half in joke, Lavender said he could believe 
 it was Summer again if Sheila had only on her slate-gray silk 
 dress, with the red ribbon around her neck ; and sure enough, 
 after dinner she came down in that dress, and Lavender took 
 her hand and kissed it. in gratitude. Just at that moment, 
 too, Mackenzie began to swear at Duncan for not having 
 brought him his pipe, and not only went out of the room for 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 14! 
 
 it, but was a full half hour in finding it. When he came in 
 again he was singing carelessly, 
 
 Love in thine eyes for ever plays. 
 
 just as if he had got his pipe around the corner. 
 
 For it had been all explained by this time, you know, and 
 Sheila had in a couple of trembling words pledged away her 
 life, and her father had given his consent. More than that 
 he would have done for the girl, if need were; and when he 
 saw the perfect happiness shining in her eyes when he saw 
 that, through some vague feelings of compunction or grati- 
 tude, or even exuberant joy, she was more than usually affec- 
 tionate toward himself he grew reconciled to the ways of 
 Providence, and was ready to believe that Ingram had done 
 them all a good turn in bringing his friend from the South with 
 him. If there was any haunting fear at all, it was about the 
 possibility of Sheila's husband refusing to live in Stornoway 
 even for half the year or a portion of the year; but did not 
 the young man express himself as delighted beyond measure 
 with Lewis and the Lewis people, and the sports and scenery 
 and climate of the island ? If Mackenzie could have bought 
 fine weather at twenty pounds a day. Lavender would have 
 gone back to London with the conviction that there was only 
 one thing better than Lewis in Summer-time, and that was 
 Lewis in time of snow and frost. 
 
 The blow fell. One evening a distinct thaw set in, during 
 the night the wind went around to Southwest, and in tht 
 morning, lo ! the very desolation of desolation. Suainabhal, 
 Mealasabhal, Cracabhal were all hidden away behind dreary 
 folds of mist; a slow and steady rain poured down from the 
 lowering skies on the wet rocks, the marshy pasture land and 
 the leafless bushes; the Atlantic lay dark under a gray fog, 
 and you could scarcely see across the loch in front of the 
 house. Sometimes the wind freshened a bit, and howled about 
 the house or dashed showers against the streaming panes; but 
 ordinarily there was no sound but the ceaseless hissing of the 
 rain on the wet gravel at the door and the rush of the waves 
 along the black rocks. All signs of life seemed to have fled 
 from the earth and the sky. Bird and beast had alike taken 
 shelter, and not even a gull or a sea-pye crossed the melan- 
 choly lines of moorland, which were half obscured by the 
 mist of the rain. 
 
 " Well, it can't be fine weather always," said Lavender, 
 
142 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 cheerfully, when Mackenzie was affecting to be greatly sur- 
 prised to find such a thing as rain in the Island of Lewis. 
 
 "No, that iss quite true," said the old man. "It wass 
 ferry good weather we were having since you hef come here. 
 And what iss a little rain ? OH, nothing at all. You will see 
 it will go away whenever the wind goes around." 
 
 With that Mackenzie would again go out to the front of the 
 house, take a turn up and down the wet gravel, and pretend 
 to be scanning the horizon for signs of a change. Sheila, a 
 good deal more honest, went about her household duties, say- 
 ing merely to Lavender, " I am very sorry the weather has 
 broken, but it may clear before you go away from Borva." 
 
 " Before I go ? Do you expect it to rain for a week ?" 
 
 " Perhaps it will not, but it is looking very bad to-day," 
 said Sheila. 
 
 " Well, I don't care," said the young man, " though it 
 should rain the skies down, if only you would keep in doors, 
 Sheila. But you do go out in such a reckless fashion. You 
 don't seem to reflect that it is raining." 
 
 " I do not get wet, "she said. 
 
 " Why, when you came up from the shore half an hour 
 ago your hair was as wet as possible, and your face all red 
 and gleaming with the rain.'' 
 
 " But I am none the worse. And I am not wet now. It 
 is impossible that you will always keep in a room if you 
 have things to do ; and a little rain does not hurt any 
 one." ' 
 
 " It occurs to me, Sheila," he observed slowly, "that 
 you are an exceedingly obstinate and self-willed young per- 
 son, and that no one has ever exercised any proper control 
 over you." 
 
 She looked up for a moment with a sudden glance of sur- 
 prise and pain; but she saw in his eyes that he meant noth- 
 ing, and she went forward to him, putting her hand in his 
 hand, and saying with a smile, " I am very willing to be con- 
 trolled." 
 
 "Are you really?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then hear my commands. You shall not go out in time 
 of rain without putting something over your head or taking 
 an umbrella. You shall not go out in the Maighdean-mhara 
 vithout taking some one with you besides Mairi. You shall 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 143 
 
 never, if you are away from home, go withm fifty yards of 
 the sea, so long as there is snow on the rocks." 
 
 " But that is so very many things already ; is it not enough?" 
 said Sheila. 
 
 " You will faithfully remember and observe these rules ?" 
 
 I will." 
 
 ' Then you are a more obedient girl then I imagined or 
 expected ; and you may now, if you are good, have the satis- 
 faction of offering me a glass of sherry and a biscuit, for, 
 rain or no rain, Lewis is a dreadful place for making people 
 hungry." 
 
 Mackenzie need not have been afraid. Strange as it may 
 appear, Lavender was well content with the wet weather. No 
 depression or impatience or remonstrance was visible on his 
 face when he went to the blurred windows, day after day, to 
 see only the same desolate picture the dark sea, the wet 
 rocks, the gray mists over the moorland and the shining of the 
 red gravel before the house. He would stand with his hands 
 in his pocket and whistle " Love in thine eyes forever plays." 
 just as if he were looking out on a cheerful Summer sunrise. 
 When he and Sheila went to the door, and were received 
 by a cold blast of wet wind and a driving shower of rain, he 
 would slam the door to again, with a laugh, and pull the girl 
 back into the house. Sometimes she would not be con- 
 trolled; and then he would accompany her about the garden 
 as she attended to her duties, or would go down to the shore 
 with her to give Bras a run. From these excursions he return- 
 ed in the best of spirits, with a fine color in his face; until, 
 having got accustomed to heavy boots, impervious frieze 
 and the discomfort of wet hands, he grew to be about as in- 
 different to the rain as Sheila herself, and went fishing or 
 shooting or boating with much content, whether it was wet 
 or dry. 
 
 " It has been the happiest month of my life I know that," 
 he said to Mackenzie as they stood together on the quay at 
 Stornoway. 
 
 " And I hope you will hef many like it in the Lewis," said 
 the old man, cheerfully, 
 
 " I think I should soon learn to become a Highlander up 
 here," said Lavender, " if Sheila would only teach me the 
 Gaelic." 
 
 " The Gaelic !" cried Mackenzie impatiently. " The 
 
144 * PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Gaelic! It is none of the gentlemen who will come here in 
 the Autumn will want the Gaelic ; and what for would you 
 want the Gaelic ay, if you was staying here all the year 
 round ?" 
 
 " But Sheila will teach me all the same, won't you, Sheila?" 
 he said, turning to his companion, who was gazing somewhat 
 blankly at the rough steamer and at the rough gray sea be- 
 yond the harbor. 
 
 "Yes," said the girl; she seemed in no mood for joking. 
 Lavender returned to town more in love than ever; and 
 soon the news of his engagement was spread abroad, he 
 nothing loath. Most of his club-friends laughed, and 
 prophesied it would come to nothing. How could a man in 
 Lavender's position marry anybody but an heiress? He could 
 not afford to go and marry a fisherman's daughter. Others 
 came to the conclusion that artists and writers and all th;it 
 sort of people were incomprehensible, and said " Poor beg- 
 gar!'' when they thought of the fashion in which Lavender 
 had ruined his chances in life. His lady friends, however, 
 were much more sympathetic. There was a dash of romance 
 in the story; and would not the Highland girl be a curiosJ-'y 
 a little while after she came to town ! Was she like any o? 
 the pictures Mr. Lavender had hanging up in his roora>? 
 Had he not even a sketch of her? An artist, and yet not 
 have a portrait of the girl he had chosen to marry ? Lavenc!'.-;. 
 had no portrait of Sheila to show. Some little photograph 
 he had he kept for his own pocket-book, while in vain had he 
 tried to get some sketch or picture that would convey to the 
 world of his friends and acquaintances some notion of his 
 future bride. They were left to draw on their imagination 
 for some presentment of the coming princess. 
 
 He told Mrs. Lavender, of course. She said little, but 
 sent for Edward Ingram. Him she questioned in a cautious, 
 close and yet apparently indifferent way, and then merely said 
 that Frank was very impetuous, that it was a pity he had re- 
 solved on marrying out of his own sphere of life, but that 
 she hoped the young lady from, the Highlands would prove a 
 good wife to him. 
 
 " I hope he will prove a good husband to her," said In- 
 gram, with unusual sharpness. 
 
 " Frank is very impetuous." That was all Mrs. Lavender 
 would say. 
 
A PRINCESS Of TtfULE. 145 
 
 By and by, as the spring grew on, and the time of the 
 marriage was coming nearer, the important business of taking 
 and furnishing a house for Sheila's reception occupied the at- 
 tention of the young man from morning till night. He had 
 been somewhat disappointed at the cold fashion in which his 
 aunt looked upon his choice, admitting everything he had 
 to gay in praise of Sheila, but never expressing any approval 
 of his conduct, or hope about the future; but now she showed 
 herself most amiably and generously disposed. She supplied 
 the young man with abundant funds wherewith to furnish the 
 house according to his own fancy. It was a small place, 
 fronting a somewhat commonplace square in Netting Hill, 
 but it was to be a miracle of artistic adornment inside. He 
 tortured himself for days over lival shades and hues; he drew 
 designs for the chairs; he himself painted a good deal of 
 paneling; and, in short, gave up his whole time to making 
 Sheila's future home beautiful. His aunt regatded these pre- 
 parations with litlle interest, but she certainly gave her 
 nephew ample means to indulge the eccentricities of his fancy. 
 
 " Isn't she a dear old lady?" said Lavender one night to 
 Ingram. " Look here! A check, received this morning, 
 for two hundred pounds, for plate and glass." 
 
 Ingram looked at the bit of pale green paper: " I wish you 
 had earned the money yourself, or done without the plate 
 until you could buy it with your own money." 
 
 "Oh, confound it, Ingram! you carry your puritanical 
 theories too far. Doubtless I shall earn my own living by 
 and by. Give me time." 
 
 " It is now nearly a year since you thought of marrying 
 Sheila Mackenzie, and you have not done a stroke of work 
 yet." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I have worked a good deal of late, 
 as you will see when you come up to my rooms.'' 
 
 " Have you sold a single picture since last summer ? " 
 
 " I cannot make people buy my pictures if they don't 
 choose to do so." 
 
 " Have you made any effort to get them sold, or to come 
 to any arrangement with any of the dealers ? " 
 
 " I have been too busy of late looking after this house, 
 you know," said Lavender with an air of apology. 
 
 " You were not too busy to paint a fan for Mrs. Lorraine, 
 that people say must have occupied you for months." 
 
146 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Lavender laughed: " Do you know, Ingram, I think you 
 are jealous of Mrs. Lorraine, on account of Sheila? 
 Come, you shall go and see her." 
 
 " No, thank you.'' 
 
 " Are you afraid of your Puritan principles giving way ? " 
 
 " I am afraid that you are a very foolish boy," said the 
 other, with a good-humored shrug of resignation; "but I 
 hope to see you mend when you marry." 
 
 ' Ah, then you a//// see a difference! " said Lavender, se- 
 riously; and so the dispute ended. 
 
 It had been arranged that Ingram should go up to Lewis 
 to the marriage, and after the ceremony in Stornoway return 
 to Borva with Mr. Mackenzie, to remain with him a few days. 
 But at the last moment Ingram was summoned down to 
 Devonshire on account of the serious illness of some near 
 relative, and accordingly Frank Lavender started by him- 
 self to bring back with him his Highland bride. His stay 
 in Borva was short enough on this occasion. At the end of 
 it there came a certain wet and boisterous day, the occur- 
 rences in which he afterwards remembered as if they had 
 taken place in a dream. There were many faces about, a 
 confusion of tongues, a good deal of dram-drinking, a skirl 
 of pipes, and a hurry through the rain ; but all these things 
 gave place to the occasional glance he got from a pair of 
 timid and trusting and beautiful eyes. Yet Sheila was not 
 Sheila in that dress of white, with her face a trifle pale. She 
 was more his own Sheila when she had donned her rough 
 garments of blue, and when she stood on the wet deck of 
 the vessel, with a great gray shawl around her, talking to 
 her father with a brave effort at cheerfulness, although her 
 lip would occasionally quiver as one or other of her friends 
 from Borva many of them barefooted children came up 
 to bid her good-bye. Her father talked rapidly, with a 
 grand affectation of indifference. He swore at the weather. 
 He bade her see that Bras was properly fed, and if the sea 
 broke over his box in the night, he was to be rubbed dry, 
 and let out in the morning for a run up and down the deck. 
 She was not to forget the parcel directed to an innkeeper at 
 Oban. They would find Oban a very nice place at which 
 to break the journey to London, but as for Greenock, Mack- 
 enzie could find no words with which to describe Greenock. 
 And then, in the midst of all this, Sheila suddenly said, 
 " Papa, when does the steamer leave ?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 147 
 
 " In a few minutes. They have got nearly all the cargo 
 on board." 
 
 " Will you do me a great favor, papa?" 
 
 " Ay, but what is it, Sheila ?" 
 
 " I want you not to stay here till the boat sails, and then 
 you will have all the people on the quay vexing you when 
 you are going away I want you to bid good-bye to us now, 
 and drive away around to the point, and we shall see you the 
 last of all when the steamer has got out of the harbor." 
 
 "Ferry well, Sheila, I will do that," he said, knowing well 
 why the girl wished it. 
 
 So father and daughter bade good-bye to each other; and 
 Mackenzie went on shore with his face down, and said not a 
 word to any of his friends on the quay, but got into the 
 wagonette, and, lashing his horses, drove rapidly away. As 
 he had shaken hands with Lavender, Lavender had said to 
 him, " Well, we shall soon be back in Borva again to see 
 you;" and the old man had merely tightened the grip of his 
 ?aand as he left. 
 
 The roar of the steam-pipes ceased, the throb of the en- 
 gines struck the water, and the great steamer steamed away 
 from the quay and out of the plain of the harbor into a wide 
 world of gray waves and wind and rain. There stood 
 Mackenzie as they passed, the dark figure clearly seen against 
 the pallid colors of the dismal day ; and Sheila waved a 
 handkerchief to him until Stornoway and its lighthouse and 
 all the promontories and bays of the great island had faded 
 into the white mists that lay along the horizon. And then, 
 her arm fell to her side, and for a moment she stood be- 
 wildered, with a strange look in her eyes of grief, and almost 
 of despair. 
 
 " Sheila, my darling, you must go below now," said her 
 companion ; " you are almost dead with cold." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment as though she had scarce- 
 ly heard what he said. But his eyes were full of pity for her; 
 he drew her closer to him, and put his arms around her, and 
 then she hid her head in his bosom and sobbed there like a 
 child. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 PART V. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FAIRY-LAND. 
 
 "WELCOME to London !" 
 
 He was about to add " Sheila," but suddenly stopped. The 
 girl, who had hastily come forward to meet him with a glad 
 look in her eyes and with both hands out-stretched, doubtless 
 perceived the brief embarrassment of the moment, and was 
 perhaps a liittle amused by it. But she took no notice of it; 
 she merely advanced to him and caught both his hands, and 
 said, "And are you very well?" 
 
 It was the old and familiar salutation, uttered in the same 
 odd, gentle, insinuating fashion, and in the same low and 
 sweet voice. Sheila's stay in Oban and the few days she had 
 already spent in London, had not taught her the difference 
 between " very " and " ferry." 
 
 " It is so strange to hear you speak in London Mrs. 
 Lavender," he said, with rather a wry face as he pronounced 
 her full and proper title. 
 
 And now it was Sheila's turn to look a bit embarrassed and 
 color, and appear uncertain whether to be vexed or pleased, 
 when her husband himself broke in in his usual impetuous 
 fashion: " I say, Ingram, don't be a fool! Of course you 
 must call her Sheila unless when there are people here, and 
 then you must please yourself. Why, the poor girl has enough 
 of strange things and names about her already. I don't 
 know how she keeps her head. It would bewilder me, I 
 know; but I can see that, after she has stood at the window 
 for a time, and begun to get dazed by all the wonderful 
 sights and sounds outside, she suddenly withdraws and fixes 
 all her attention on some little domestic duty, just as if she 
 were hanging on to the practical things of life to assure her- 
 self it isn't alia dream. Isn't that so, Sheila ?" he said, put- 
 ting his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 " You oaght not to watch me like that," she said with a 
 smile. " But it is the noise that is most bewildering. There 
 
A PRINCESS Of THULE. 149 
 
 are many places I will know already when I see them, many 
 places and things I have known in pictures ; but now the 
 size of them, and the noise of carriages, and the people al- 
 ways passing, always different, always strangers, so that you 
 never see the same people any more. But I am getting very 
 much accustomed to it." 
 
 " You are trying very hard to get accustomed to it, any 
 way, my good girl," said her husband. 
 
 "You need not be in a hurry; you may begin to regret 
 some day that you have not a little of that feeling of wonder 
 left," said Ingram. " But you have not told me anything of 
 what you think about London, and of how you like it, and 
 how you like your house, and what you have done with Bras, 
 and a thousand other things." 
 
 " I well tell you all that directly, when I have got for you 
 some wine and some biscuits." 
 
 " Sheila, you can ring for them," said her husband, but 
 she had by that time departed on her mission. Presently she 
 returned, and waited upon Ingram just as if she had been in 
 her father's house in Borva, with the gentlemen in a hurry to 
 go out to the fishing, and herself the only one who could 
 serve them. 
 
 She put a small table close by the French window; she 
 drew back the curtains as far as they would go, to show the 
 sunshine of a bright forenoon in May lighting up the trees 
 in the square and gleaming on the pale and tall fronts of the 
 houses beyond; and she wheeled in three low easy-chairs, so 
 as to front this comparatively cheerful prospect. Somehow 
 or other, it seemed quite natural that Sheila should wheel in 
 those chairs. It was certainly no disrespect on the part of 
 either her husband or her visitor which caused both of them 
 to sit still and give her her own way about such things. In- 
 deed, Lavender had not as yet ever attempted to impress 
 upon Sheila the necessity of cultivating the art of helplessness. 
 
 That, with other social graces, would, perhaps, come in 
 good time. She would soon acquire the habits and ways of 
 her friends and acquaintances, without his trying to force 
 upon her a series of affectations, which would only embarrass 
 her and cloud the perfect frankness and spontaneity of her 
 nature. Of one thing he was quite assured that whatever 
 mistakes Sheila might make in society they would never 
 render her ridiculous. Strangers might not know the absolute 
 
150 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 sincerity of every word and act, which gave her a courage 
 that had no fear of criticism, but they could at least see the 
 simple grace and dignity of the girl, and that natural ease of 
 manner which is beyond the reach of cultivation, being 
 mainly the result of a thorough consciousness of honesty. 
 To burden her with rules and regulations of conduct would 
 ,be to produce the very catastrophes he wished to avoid. 
 Where no attempt is made, failure is impossible; and he was 
 meanwhile well content that Sheila should simply appear as 
 Sheila, even although she might draw in a chair for a guest, 
 or so far forget her dignity as to pour out some wine for her 
 husband. 
 
 " After all, Sheila," said Lavender, " hadn't I better begin 
 and tell Ingram about your surprise and delight when you 
 came near Oban and saw the tall hotels and the trees ? It 
 was the trees, I think, that struck you most, because, you 
 know, those in Lewis well, to tell the truth the fact is, 
 the trees of Lewis as I was saying, the trees of Lewis are 
 not just they cannot be said to be " 
 
 "You bad boy, to say anything against the Lewis!" ex- 
 claimed Sheila; and Ingram held that she was right, and that 
 there were certain sorts of ingratitude more disgraceful than 
 others, and that this was just about the worst. 
 
 " Oh, I have brought all the good away from Lewis," said 
 Lavender with a careless impertinence. 
 
 " No," said Sheila, proudly. "You have not brought away 
 my papa, and there is not any one in this country I have seen 
 as good as he is." 
 
 " My dear, your experience of the thirty millions of folks 
 in these islands is quite convincing. I was wholly in the 
 wrong; and if you forgive me we shall celebrate our recon- 
 ciliation in a cigarette that is to say, Ingram and I will per- 
 form the rites, and you can look on." 
 
 So Sheila went away to get the cigarettes also. 
 
 " You don't say you smoke in your drawing-room, Laven- 
 der?" said Ingram, mindful of the fastidious ways of his 
 friend, even when he had bachelor's rooms in King street. 
 
 " Don't I, though ? I smoke everywhere all over the 
 place. Don't you see we have no visitors yet. No one is sup- 
 posed to know we have come South. Sheila must get all sorts 
 of things before she can be introduced to my friends and my 
 aunt's friends, and the house must be put to rights, too. You 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 151 
 
 wouldn't have her go to see my aunt in that sailor's costume 
 *he used to rush about in up in Lewis ?" 
 
 " That is precisely what I would have," said Ingram, " She 
 cannot look more handsome in any other dress." 
 
 "Why, my aunt would fancy I had married a savage; I 
 believe she fears something of the sort now." 
 
 " And you haven't told even her that you are in London ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, Lavender, that is a precious silly performance. 
 Suppose she hears of your being in town, v/hat will you say 
 to her?" 
 
 " I should tell her I wanted a few days to get my wife 
 properly dressed before taking her about." 
 
 Ingram shrugged his shoulders: " Perhaps you are right. 
 Perhaps, indeed, it would be better if you waited six 
 months before you introduced Sheila to your friends. At 
 present you seem to be keeping the foot-lights turned down 
 until everything is ready for the first scene, and then Sheila is 
 to burst upon society in a blaze of light and color. Well, 
 that is harmless enough; but look here! You don't know 
 much about her yet; you will be mainly anxious to hear 
 what the audience, as it were, say of her; and there is just 
 a chance of your adopting their impressions and opinions of 
 Sheila, seeing that you have no very fixed ones of your own. 
 Now, what your social circle may think about her is a diffi- 
 cult thing to decide; and I confess I would rather have 
 seen you remain six months in Lewis before bringing her up 
 here." 
 
 Ingram was at least a candid friend. It was not the first 
 nor the hundredth time that Frank Lavender had to endure 
 small lectures, uttered in a slow, deliberate voice, and yet 
 with an indifference of manner which showed that Ingram 
 cared very little how sharply his words struck home. He 
 rarely even apologized for his bluntness. These were his 
 opinions; Lavender could take them or leave them, as he 
 liked. And the younger man, after finding his face flush a 
 bit on being accused of wishing to make a dramatic impres- 
 sion with Sheila's entrance into London society, laughed in an 
 embarrassed way, and said, " It is impossible to be angry 
 with you, Ingram, and yet you do talk so absurdly. I won- 
 der who is likely to know more about the character of a girl 
 than her own husband ?" 
 
152 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "You may in time; you don't now," said Ingram, care- 
 fully balancing a biscuit on the point of his finger. 
 
 " The fact is," said Lavender, with good-natured impati- 
 ence, " you are the most romantic card I know, and there is 
 no pleasing you. You have all sorts of exalted notions about 
 things, about sentiments and duties, and so forth. Well, all 
 that is true enough, and would be right enough if the world 
 were filled with men and women like yourself ; but then it 
 isn't, you see, and one has to give in to conventionalities of 
 dress and living and ceremonies, if one wants to retain one's 
 friends. Now, I like to see you going about with that wide- 
 awake it suits your brown complexion and beard and that 
 stick that would do for herding sheep ; and the costume looks 
 we?!, and is business-like and excellent when you're off for a 
 walk over the Surrey downs or lying on the river-banks about 
 Henley or Cookham; but it isn't, you know, the sort of cus- 
 iiune for a stroll in the Park." 
 
 " Whenever God withdraws from me my small share of 
 common sense," said Ingram, slowly, "so far that I shall be- 
 gin to think of having my clothes made for the purpose of 
 walking in Hyde Park, well " 
 
 " But don't you see," said Lavender, " that one must meet 
 one's friends, especially when one is married ; and when you 
 know that at a certain hour in the forenoon they are all to be 
 found in a particular place, and that a very pleasant place, 
 and that you will do yourself good by having a walk in the 
 fresh air, and so forth, I really don't see anything very im- 
 moral in going down for an hour or so to the Park." 
 
 "Don't you think the pleasure of seeing one's friends 
 might be postponed till one had done some sort of good 
 day's work?" 
 
 "There now!" cried Lavender, " that is another of youi 
 delusions. You are always against superstitions, and yet you 
 make work a fetish. You do with work just as women do 
 with duty; they carry about with them a convenient little 
 God, and they are always worshiping it with small sacrifices, 
 and complimenting themselves on a series of little martyr- 
 doms that are of no good to anybody. Of course, duty 
 wouldn't be duty if it wasn't disagreeable, and when they go 
 nursing the sick and they could get it better done for fifteen 
 shillings a week by somebody else they don't mind coming 
 back to their families with the seeds of typhus about their 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 153 
 
 ^owns; and when they crush the affections in order to wor- 
 ship at the shrine of duty, they don't consider that they 
 may be making martyrs of other folks, who don't want martyr- 
 dom and get no sort of pleasure out of it. Now, what in all 
 the world is the good of work as work ? I believe that work is 
 an unmistakable evil, but when it is a necessity I suppose 
 you get some sort of selfish satisfaction in overcoming 
 it ; and doubtless if there was any immediate necessity 
 in my case I don't deny the necessity may arise, and that I 
 should like nothing better than to work for Sheila's sake " 
 
 " Now, you are coming to the point," said Ingram, who 
 had been listening with his usual patience to his friend's 
 somewhat chaotic speculations. " Perhaps you may have to 
 work for your wife's sake and your own; and I confess I am 
 surprised to see you so content with your present circum- 
 stances. If your aunt's property legally reverted to you, if 
 you had any sort of family claim on it, that would make some 
 little difference; but you know that any sudden quarrel be- 
 tween you might leave you penniless to-morrow." 
 
 " In which case I should begin to work to-morrow, and I 
 should come to you for my first commission." 
 
 "And you shouldn't have it. I would leave you to go and 
 fight the world for yourself; without which a man knows 
 nothing of himself or of his relations with those around him." 
 
 "Frank, dear, here are the cigarettes," said Sheila, at this 
 point; and as she came and sat down the discussion ceased. 
 
 For Sheila began to tell her friend of all the strange ad- 
 ventures that had befallen her since she left the far island of 
 Lewis how she had seen with fear the great mountains of 
 Skye lit up by the wild glare of a stormy sunrise; how she 
 had seen with astonishment the great fir woods of Armadale; 
 and how green and beautiful were the shores of the Sound of 
 Mull. And then Oban, with its shining houses, its blue bay, 
 and its magnificent trees, all lit up by a fair and still sun- 
 shine! She had not imagined there was anywhere in the 
 world so beautiful a place, and could scarcely believe that 
 London itself was more rich and noble and impressive; for 
 there were beautiful ladies walking along the broad pavements, 
 and there were shops with large windows that seemed to con- 
 tain everything that the mind could desire, and there was a 
 whole fleet of yachts in the bay. But it was the trees, above 
 all, that captivated her; and she asked if they were lords 
 
154 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 who owned those beautiful houses built up on the hill, and 
 half smothered among lilacs and ash trees and rowan trees 
 and ivy. 
 
 "My darling," Lavender had said to her, "if your papa 
 were to come and live here, he could buy half a dozen of those 
 cottages, gardens and all. They are mostly the property of 
 well-to-do shopkeepers. If this little place takes your fancy, 
 what will you say when you go South when you see Wirn- 
 bledon and Richmond and Kew, with their grand old com- 
 mons and trees ? Why, you could hide Oban in a corner of 
 Richmond Park !" 
 
 " And my papa has seen all those places !" 
 
 "Yes. Don't you think it strange he should have seen 
 them all, and known he could live in any one of them, and 
 then gone away back to Borva ?" 
 
 " But what would the poor people have done if he had 
 never gone back ?" 
 
 "Oh, some one else would have taken his place." 
 
 "And then, if he were living here or in London, he might 
 have got tired, and he might have wished to go back to the 
 Lewis and see all the people he knew ; and then he would 
 come among them like a -stranger, and have no house to 
 go to." 
 
 Then Lavender said quite gently, " Do you think, Sheila, 
 you will ever tire of living in the South?" 
 
 The girl looked up quickly, and said, with a sort of sur- 
 prised questioning in her eyes, " No, not with you. But then 
 we shall often go to the Lewis ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," her husband said, "as often as we can con- 
 veniently. But it will take some time at first, you know, be- 
 fore you get to know all my friends who are to be your 
 friends, and before you get properly fitted into our social 
 circle. That will take you a long time, Sheila, and you may 
 have many annoyances or embarrassments to encounter; but 
 you won't be very much afraid, my girl ?" 
 
 Sheila merely looked up to him; there was no fear in the 
 frank, brave eyes. 
 
 The first large town she saw struck a cold chill to her 
 heart. On a wet and dismal afternoon they sailed into 
 Greenock. A heavy smoke hung about the black building- 
 yards and the dirty quays; the narrow and squalid streets 
 were filled with mud, and only the poorer sections of the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 153 
 
 population waded through the mire or hung disconsolately 
 about the corners of the thoroughfares. A gloomier picture 
 could not well be conceived ; and Sheila, chilled with the 
 long and wet sail, and bewildered by the noise and bustle of 
 the harbor, was driven to the hotel with a sore heart and a 
 downcast face. 
 
 "This is not like London, Frank?" she said, pretty nearly 
 fready to cry with disappointment. 
 
 " This? No. Well, it is like a part of London, certainly, 
 but not the part you will live in." 
 
 " But how can we live in the one place without passing the 
 other and being made miserable by it ? There was no part 
 of Oban like this." 
 
 " Why, you will live miles away from the docks and quays 
 of London. You might live for a lifetime in London with- 
 out eve. knowing it had a harbor. Don't you be afraid, Sheila. 
 You will live in a district where there are far finer houses 
 than any you saw in Oban, and far finer trees; and within a 
 few minutes' walk you will find great gardens and parks, with 
 lakes in them and wild fowls, and you will be able to teach 
 the boys about how to set the helm and the sails when they are 
 launching their small boats." 
 
 " I should like that," said Sheila, her face brightening. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like a boat yourself?" 
 
 "Yes," she said, frankly. "If there were not many 
 people there, we might go out sometimes in the evening 
 
 Her husband laughed and took her hand: "You don't 
 understand, Sheila. The boats the boys have are little things 
 a foot or two long like the one in your papa's bedroom in 
 Borva. But many of the boys would be greatly obliged to 
 you if you would teach them how to manage the sails properly, 
 for sometimes dreadful shipwrecks occur.'' 
 
 " You must bring them to our house. I am very fond of 
 little boys, when they begin to forget to be shy, apd let you 
 become acquainted with them." 
 
 " Well," said Lavender, " I don't know many of the boys 
 who sail boa's in the Serpentine; you will have to make their 
 acquaintance yourself. But I know one boy whom I must 
 bring to the house. He is a German-Jew boy, who is going 
 to be another Mendelssohn, his friends say. He is a pretty 
 boy, with ruddy-brown hair, big black eyes, and a fine fore- 
 head, and he really sings and plays delightfully. But you 
 
156 A J&INCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 know, Sheila, you must not treat him as a boy ; for he is over 
 fourteen, I should think; and if you were to kiss him " 
 
 "He might be angry," said Sheila, with perfect simplicity. 
 
 "I might," said Lavender; and then, noticing that she 
 seemed a little surprised, he merely patted her head and 
 bade her go and get ready for dinner. 
 
 Then came the great climax of Sheila's southward journey 
 her arrival in London. She was all anxiety to see her 
 future home; and, as luck would have it, there was a fair 
 spring morning shining over the city. For a couple of hours 
 before she had sat and looked out of the carriage-window 
 as the train whirled rapidly through the scarcely awakened 
 country, and she had seen the soft and beautiful landscapes 
 of the South lit up by the early sunlight. How the bright 
 little villages shone, with here and there a gilt weathercock 
 glittering on the spire of some small gray church, while as 
 yet in many valleys a pale gray mist lay along the bed of the 
 level streams, or clung to the dense woods on the upland 
 heights! Which was the more beautiful the sharp, clear 
 picture, with its brilliant colors and its awakening life, or the 
 more mystic landscape over which was still drawn the tender 
 veil of the morning haze ? She could not tell. She only 
 knew that England, as she then saw it, seemed a great 
 country that was very beautiful, that had few inhabitants, 
 and that was still and sleepy and bathed in sunshine. How 
 happy must the people be who lived in those quiet green 
 valleys by the side of slow and smooth rivers, and amid 
 great woods and avenues and stately trees, the like of which 
 she had not imagined in her dreams. 
 
 But from the moment they got out at Euston Square she 
 seemed a trifle bewildered, and could only do implicitly as 
 her husband bade her clinging to his hand, for the most 
 part, as if to make sure of guidance. She did, indeed, 
 glance somewhat nervously at the hansom into which Laven- 
 der put her, apparently asking how such a tall and narrow 
 two-wheeled vehicle could be prevented toppling over. But 
 when he, having sent on all their luggage by a respectable 
 old four-wheeler, got into the hansom beside her, and put 
 his hand inside her arm, and bade her be of good cheer, that 
 she should have such a pleasant morning to welcome her to 
 London, she said, "Yes," mechanically, and only looked 
 out in a wistful fashion at the great houses and trees of Eus- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 157 
 
 ton Square, the mighty and roaring stream of omnibuses, the 
 droves of strangers, mostly clad in black, as if they were 
 going to church, and the pale blue smoke that seemed to 
 mix with the sunshine and make it co'd and distant. 
 
 They were in no hurry, these two, on that still morning, 
 and so, to impress Sheila all at once with a sense of the 
 greatness and grandeur of London, he made the cabman cut 
 down by Park Crescent and Portland Place to Regent Cir- 
 cus. Then they went along Oxford Street; ar d there were 
 crowded omnibuses taking young men into th city, while 
 all the pavements were busy with hurrying passersby. What 
 multitudes of unknown faces, unknown to her and unknown 
 to each other? These people did not speak; they only hur- 
 ried on, each intent upon his own affairs, caring nothing, 
 apparently, for the din around them, and looking so strange 
 and sad in their black clothes in the pale and misty sun- 
 light. 
 
 "You are in a trance, Sheila," he said. 
 
 She did not answer. Surely she had wandered into some 
 magical city, for now the houses on one side of the way sud- 
 denly ceased, and she saw before her a great and undulating 
 extent of green, with a border of beautiful flowers, and with 
 groups of trees that met the sky all along the Southern hori- 
 zon. Did the green and beautiful country she had seen 
 shoot in thus inco the heart of the town, or was there another 
 city far away on the other side of the trees ? The place was 
 almost as deserted as those still valleys she had passed by in 
 the morning. Here, in the street, there was the roar of a 
 passing crowd, but there was a long and almost deserted 
 stretch of park, wilh winding roads and umbrageous trees, 
 on which the wan sunlight fell from between loose masses of 
 half-golden cloud. 
 
 Then they passed Kensington Gardens, and there were 
 more people walking down the broad highways between the 
 elms. 
 
 " You are getting nearly home now, Sheila," he said, 
 "and you will be able to come and walk in these avenues 
 whenever you please." 
 
 Was this, then, her home? this section of a barrack row 
 of dwellings, all alike in steps, pillars, doors and windows? 
 When she got inside the servant who had opened the dcor 
 bobbed a curtsey to her j should she shake hands with kej 
 
158 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 and say, ''And are you ferry well ?" But at this moment 
 Lavender came running up the steps, playfully hurried her 
 into the house and up the stairs, and led her into her own 
 drawing-room. "Well, darling, what do you think of your 
 home, now that you see it ?" 
 
 Sheila looked around timidly. It was not a big room, but 
 it was a palace in height and grandeur and color compared 
 with that little museum in Borva in which Sheila's piano 
 stood. It was all so strange and beautiful the split pome- 
 granates an 1 quaint leaves on the upper part of the walls, 
 and underneath a dull slate-color, where the pictures hung; 
 the curious paintings on the frames of the mirrors; the 
 brilliant curtains, with their stiff and formal patterns. It 
 was not very much like a home as yet; it was more like a 
 picture that had been carefully planned and executed; but 
 she knew how he had thought of pleasing her in choosing 
 these things, and without saying a word she took his hand 
 and kissed it. And then she went to one of the three tall 
 French windows and looked out on the square. There, be- 
 tween the trees, was a space of beautiful soft green, and 
 some children dressed in bright dresses, and attended by a 
 governess in sober black, had just begun to play croquet. 
 An elderly lady with a small white dog was walking along 
 one end of the graveled paths. An old man was pruning 
 some bushes. 
 
 " It is very still and quiet here," said Sheila. "I was afraid 
 that we should have to live in that terrible noise always." 
 
 " I hope you won't find it dull, my darling," he said. 
 
 * ' Dull, when you are here ?" 
 
 'But I cannot always be here, you know ?" 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 '' You see, a man is so much in the way if he is dawdling 
 about the house all day long. You would begin to regard 
 me as a nuisance, Sheila, and would be for sending me out to 
 play croquet with those young Carruthers, merely that you 
 might get the rooms dusted. Besides, you know I couldn't 
 work here: I must have a studio of some sort in the neigh- 
 borhood, ol course. And then you will give me your orders 
 in the morning as to when I am to come round for luncheon 
 or dinner." 
 
 "And you will be alone all day at your work?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 159 
 
 " Then I will come and sit with you, my poor boy," she 
 said. 
 
 "Much work I should do in that case! " he said. "But 
 we'll see. In the meantime go up stairs and get your things 
 off; that young person below has breakfast ready, I dare 
 say." 
 
 " But you have not shown me yet where Mr. Ingram lives,'* 
 said Sheila before she went to the door. 
 
 " Oh, that is miles away. You have only seen a little bit 
 of London yet. Ingram lives about as far away from here 
 as the distance you have just come, but in another direction." 
 
 '"It is like a world made of houses," said Sheila, " and all 
 filled with strangers. But you will take me to see Mr. In^ 
 gram? " 
 
 " By-and-by, yes. But he is sure to drop in on you as 
 soon as he fancies you are settled in your new home." 
 
 And here, at last, was Mr. Ingram come; and the mere 
 sound of his voice seemed to carry her back to Borva, so 
 that in talking to him and waiting on him as of old, she 
 would scarcely have been surprised if her father had walked 
 in to say that a coaster was making for the harbor, or that 
 Duncan was going over to Stornoway and Sheila would have 
 to give him commissions. Her husband did not take the 
 same interest in the social and political affairs of Borva that 
 Mr. Ingram did. Lavender had made a pretence of assisting 
 Sheila in her work among the poor people, but the effort was 
 a hopeless failure. He could not remember the name of a 
 poor family that wanted a new boat, and was visibly impa- 
 tient when Sheila would sit down to write out for some aged 
 crone a letter to her grandson in Canada. Now, Ingram, for 
 the mere sake of occupation, had qualified himself during 
 his various visits to Lewis, so that he might have become the 
 home minister of the King of Borva; and Sheila was glad 
 to have one attentive listener as she described all the won- 
 derful things that had happened in the island since the pre- 
 vious Summer. 
 
 But Ingram had got a full and complete holiday on which 
 to come up and see Sheila ; and he had brought with him 
 the wild and startling proposal that in order that she should 
 take her first plunge into the pleasures of civilized life, her 
 husband and herself should drive down to Richmond and 
 dine at the Star and Garter, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 
 
 ' What is that ?" said Sheila. 
 
 "My dear girl," said the husband, seriously, "your 
 ignorance is something fearful to contemplate. It is quite 
 bewildering. How can a person who does not know what 
 the Star and Garter is, be told what the Star and Garter 
 is?" 
 
 " But I am willing to go and see," said Sheila. 
 
 " Then I must look after getting a brougham," said Lav- 
 ender, rising. 
 
 " A brougham on such a day as this?" exclaimed Ingram. 
 "Nonsense! Get an open trap of some sort; and Sheila, 
 just to please me, will put on that very blue dress she used 
 to wear in Borva, and the hat and the white feather, if she 
 has got them." 
 
 " Perhaps you would like me to put on a sealskin cap and a 
 red handkerchief instead of a collar," observed Lavender, 
 calmly. 
 
 " You may do as you please. Sheila and I are going to 
 dine at the Star and Garter." 
 
 " May I put on that blue dress? " said the girl, going up to 
 her. husband. 
 
 "Yes, of course, if you like," said Lavender, meekly, 
 going off to order the carriage, and wondering by what route 
 he could drive those two maniacs down to Richmond, so that 
 none of his friends should see them. 
 
 When he came back again, bringing with him a landau,which 
 could be shut up for the homeward journey at night, he had 
 to confess that no costume seemed to suit Sheila so well as 
 the rough sailor-dress; and he was so pleased with her ap- 
 pearance that he consented at once to let Bras go with them 
 in the carriage, on condition that Sheila should be respon- 
 sible for him. Indeed, after the first shiver of driving away 
 , from the square was over, he forgot that there was much un- 
 ' usual about the look of his odd pleasure-paity. If you had 
 told him eighteen months before, that on a bright day in 
 May, just as the people were going home fiom the Park for 
 luncheon, he would go for a drive in a hired trap, with one 
 horse, his companions being a man with a brown wide-awake, 
 a girl, dressed as though she were the owner of a yach^ and an 
 immense deerhound, and that in this fashion he would dare 
 to drive up to the Star and Garter and order dinner, he would 
 have bet five hundred to one that such a thing would never 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. l6l 
 
 occur so long as he preserved his senses. But somehow he 
 did not mind much. He was very much at home with those 
 two people beside him; the day was bright and fresh; the 
 horse went a good pace; and once they were over Hammer- 
 smith Bridge and out among fields and trees, the country 
 looked exceedingly pretty, and the beauty of it was mirrored 
 in Sheila's eyes. 
 
 " I can't quite make you out in that dress, Sheila," he said 
 " I am not sure whether it is real and business-like or a the- 
 atrical costume. I have seen girls on Ryde Pier with some- 
 thing of the same sort on, only a good deal more pronounced, 
 you know, and they looked like sham yachtsmen ; and I 
 have seen stewardesses wearing that color and texture of 
 cloth" 
 
 " But why not have it as it is," said Ingram " a solitary 
 costume produced by certain conditions of climate and 
 duties, acting in conjunction with a natural taste for harmo- 
 nious coloring and simple form ? That dress, I will maintain, 
 sprang as naturally from the salt sea as Aphrodite did ; and 
 the man who suspects artifice in it or invention, has had h:s 
 mind perverted by the skepticism of modern society." 
 
 " Is my dress so very wonderful?" said Sheila, with a grave 
 complaisance. "I am pleased that the Lewis has produced 
 such a fine thing, and perhaps you would like me to tell you 
 its history. It was my papa bought a piece of blue serge in 
 Stornoway ; it cost three shillings sixpence a yard, and a 
 dressmaker in Stornoway cut it for me, and I made it myself. 
 That is all the history of the wonderful dress." 
 
 Suddenly Sheila seized her husband's arm. They had got 
 down to the river by Mortlake; and there, on the broad 
 bosom of the stream, a long and slender boat was shooting 
 by, pulled by four oarsmen clad in white flannel. 
 
 " How can they go out in such a boat ?" said Sheila, with 
 great alarm visible in her eyes. " It is scarcely a boat at all; 
 and if they touch a rock or the wind catches them " 
 
 " Don't be frightened, Sheila," said her husband. " They 
 are quite safe. There are no rocks in our rivers, and the 
 wind does not give us squalls here like those on Loch Roag. 
 You will see hundreds of these boats by and by, and per- 
 haps you yourself will go out in one." 
 
 " Oh, never, never !" she said, almost with a shudder. 
 
 " Why, if the people here heard you they would not know 
 
1 62 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 how brave a sailor you are. You are not afraid to go out at 
 night by yourself on the sea, and you won't go on a smooth 
 inland river " 
 
 " But those boats ; if you touch them they must go over.* 1 
 
 She seemed glad to get away from the river. She could 
 not be persuaded of the safety of the slender craft of the 
 Thames; and indeed for some time after seemed so strangely 
 depressed that Lavender begged and prayed of her to tell 
 him what was the matter. It was simple enough. She had 
 heard him speak of his boating adventures. Was it in such 
 boats as that she had just seen ? and might he not be some 
 day going out in one of them, and an accident the breaking 
 of an oar, a gust of wind 
 
 There was nothing for it but to reassure her by a solemn 
 promise that in no circumstances whatever would he, Laven- 
 der, go into a boat without her express permission, where- 
 upon Sheila was as grateful to him as though he had dowered 
 her with a kingdom. 
 
 This was not the Richmond Hill of her fancy this spacious 
 height, with its great mansions, its magnificent elms, and its 
 view of all the Westward and wooded country, with the blue- 
 white streak of the river winding through the green foliage. 
 Where was the farm? The famous Lass of Richmond Hill 
 must have lived on a farm, but here surely were the houses of 
 great lords and nobles, which had apparently been there for 
 years and years. And was this really a hotel that they stopped 
 at this great building that she could only compare to Storno- 
 way Castle? 
 
 "Now, Sheila," said Lavender, after they had ordered 
 dinner and gone out, "mind you keep a tight hold on that 
 leash, for Bras will see strange things in the Park." 
 
 "It is I who will see strange things," she said; and the 
 prophecy was amply fulfilled. For as they went along the 
 broad path, and came better into view of the splendid undu- 
 lation of woodland and pasture and fern, when on the one 
 hand they saw the Thames, far below them, flowing through 
 the green and spacious valley, and on the other hand caught 
 some dusky glimpse of the far white houses of London, it 
 seemed to her that she had got into a new world, and that 
 this world was far more beautiful than the great city she 
 had left. She did not care so much for the famous view from 
 the hill, She had cast one quick look tothe horizon, with one 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. l6^ 
 
 throb of expectation that the sea might be there. There was 
 no sea there only the faint blue of long lines of country 
 apparently without limit. Moreover, over the Western land- 
 scape a faint haze prevailed, that increased in the distance and 
 softened down the more distant woods into a sober gray. 
 That great extent of wooded plain, lying sleepily in its pale 
 mists, was not so cheerful as the scene around her, where the 
 sunlight was sharp and clear, the air fresh, the trees flooded 
 with a pure and bright color. 
 
 Here, indeed, was a cheerful and beautiful world, and she 
 was full of curiosity to know all about it and its strange fea- 
 tures. What was the name of this tree? and how did it dif- 
 fer from that ? Were not these rabbits over by the fence? 
 and did rabbits live in the midst of trees and bushes? What 
 sort of wood was the fence made of? and was it not terribly 
 expensive to' have such a protection? Could not he tell the 
 cost of a wooden fence? Why did they not use wire netting? 
 Was not that a loch away down there? and what was its name? 
 A loch without a name! Did the salmon come up to it? and 
 did any sea birds ever come inland and build their nests on 
 its margin? 
 
 " Oh, Bras, you must come and look at the loch. It is a 
 long time since you will see a loch." 
 
 And away she went through the thick breckan, holding 
 on to the swaying leash that held the galloping grayhound, 
 and running swiftly as though she had been making down 
 for the shore to get out the Maighdean-mhara. 
 
 " Sheila," called her husband, " don't be foolish !" 
 
 " Sheila," called Ingram, " have pity on an old man !" 
 
 Suddenly she stopped. A brace of partridges had sprung 
 up at some distance, and, with a wild whirr of their wings, 
 were now directing their low and rapid flight toward the 
 bottom of the valley. 
 
 " What birds are those?" she said peremptorily. 
 
 She took no notice of the fact that her companions were 
 pretty nearly too blown to speak. There was a brisk life 
 and color in her face, and all her attention was absorbed in 
 watching the flight of the birds. Lavender fancied he saw 
 in the fixed and keen look something of old Mackenzie's 
 gray eye; it was the first trace of a likeness to her father he 
 had seen. 
 
 " You bad girl !" he said^^they are partridges." 
 
104 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 She paid no heed to this reproach, for what were those 
 other things over there underneath the trees? Bras had 
 pricked up his ears, and there was a strange excitement in 
 his look and in his trembling frame. 
 
 " Deer !" she cried, with her eyes as fixed as were those of 
 the dog beside her. 
 
 " Well," said the husband calmly; "what although they 
 are deer?" 
 
 "But Bras " she said; and with that she caught the 
 leash with both her hands. 
 
 " Bras won't mind them if you keep him quiet. I suppose 
 you can manage him better than I can. I wish we had 
 brought a Tvhip. 1 ' 
 
 " 1 would rather let him kill every deer in the Park than 
 touch him with a whip," said Sheila proudly. 
 
 " You fearful creature, you don't know what you say. 
 That is high treason. If George Ranger heard you he would 
 have you hanged in front of the Star and Garter." 
 
 " Who is George Ranger?" said Sheila with an air, as if 
 she had said, " Do you know that I am the daughter of the 
 King of Borva, and whoever touches me will have to answer 
 to my papa, who is not afraid of any George Ranger ?" 
 
 " He is a great lord who hangs all persons who disturb the 
 deer in this Park." 
 
 " But why do they not go away ?" said Sheila, impatiently. 
 " I have never seen any deer so stupid. It is their own fault 
 if they are disturbed; why do they remain so near to people 
 and to houses?" 
 
 "My dear child, if Bras wasn't here you would probably 
 find some of those deer coming up to see if you had any bits 
 of sugar or pieces of bread about your pockets." 
 
 " Then they are like sheep they are not like deer," she 
 said, with some contempt. " If I could only tell Bras that it 
 is sheep he will be looking at, he would not look any more. 
 And so small they are! They are as small as the roe, but 
 they have horns as big as many of the red deer. Do people 
 eat them ?" 
 
 ' I suppose so." 
 
 ' And what will they cost ?" 
 
 ' I am sure I can't tell you." 
 
 ' Are they as good as the roe or the big deer ?" 
 
 ' I don't know that, either. J. don't think I ever ate fallow- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 165 
 
 deer. But you know they are not kept here for taht purpose. 
 A great many gentlemen in this country keep a lot of them 
 in their parks merely to look pretty. They cost a great deal 
 more than they produce." 
 
 " They must eat up a great deal of fine grass," said Sheila, 
 almost sorrowfully. " It is a beautiful ground for sheep no 
 rushes, no peat-moss, only fine, good grass and dry land. I 
 should like my papa to see all this beautiful ground." 
 ' I fancy he has seen it." 
 
 ' Was my papa here ?" 
 ' I think he said so " 
 And did he see those deer ?" 
 Doubtless," 
 ' He never iold me of them." 
 
 By this time tliey had pretty nearly got down to the little 
 lake, and Bras had been alternately coaxed and threa-tened 
 into a quiescent mood. Sheila evidently expected to hear a 
 flapping of sea-fowls' wings when they got near the margin, 
 and looked all around for the first sudden dart from the 
 banks. But a dead silence prevailed, and as there were 
 neither fish nor birds to watch, she went along to a wooden 
 bench and sat down there, one of her companions on each 
 hand. It was a pretty scene that lay before her the small 
 stretch of water ruffled with the wind, but showing a dash of 
 blue sky here and there, the trees in the inclosure beyond 
 clad in their summer foliage, the smooth green sward shining 
 in the afternoon sunlight. Here, at least, was absolute quiet 
 after the roar of London ; and it was somewhat wistfully that 
 she asked her husband how far this place was from her home, 
 and whether, when he was at work, she could not come down 
 here by herself. 
 
 " Certainly," he said, never dreaming that she would think 
 of doing such a thing. 
 
 By-and-by they returned to the hotel, and while they 
 sat at dinner a great fire of sunset spread over the West, and 
 the far woods became of a rich purple, streaked here and 
 there with lines of a pale white mist. The river caught the 
 glow of the crimson clouds above, and shone duskily red 
 amid the dark green of the trees. Deeper and deeper grew 
 the color of the sun as it sank to the horizon, until it disap- 
 peared behind one low bar of purple cloud, and the wild 
 glow in the West slowly faded away, the river became pallid 
 
l66 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 and indistinct, the white mists over the distant woods seemed 
 to grow denser, and then, as here and there a lamp was lit far 
 down in the valley, one or two pale stars appeared in the sky 
 overhead, and the night came on apace. 
 
 "It is so strange," Sheila said, "to find the darkness 
 coming on and not to hear the sound of the waves. I wonder 
 if it is a fine night at Borva !'' 
 
 Her husband went over to her and led her back to the 
 table, where the candles, shining over the white cloth and 
 the colored glasses, offered a more cheerful picture than the 
 deepening landscape outside. They were in a private room, 
 so that when dinner was over, Sheila was allowed to amuse 
 herself with the fruit, while her two companions* lit their 
 cigars. Where was the quaint old piano now, and the glass 
 of hot whisky and water, and the " Lament of Monaltrie " 
 or " Love in thine eyes for ever plays?" It seemed but for 
 the greatness of the room, to be a repetition of one of those 
 evenings at Borva, that now belonged to a far off past. Here 
 was Sheila, not minding the smoke, listening to Ingram as of 
 old, and sometimes saying something in that sweetly inflected 
 speech of hers; here was Ingram, talking, as it were, out of 
 a brown study, and morosely objecting to pretty nearly every- 
 thing Lavender said, but always ready to prove Sheila right; 
 and Lavender himself, as unlike a married man as ever, 
 talking impatiently, impetuously and wildly, except at such 
 times as he said something to his young wife, and then some 
 brief smile and look, or some pat on the hand said more 
 than words. But where, Sheila may have thought, was the 
 one wanting to complete the group ? Has he gone down to 
 Borvapost to see about the cargoes of fish to be sent off in 
 the morning? Perhaps he is talking to Duncan outside 
 about the cleaning of the guns, or making up cartridges in 
 the kitchen. When Sheila's attention wandered away from 
 the talk of her companions she could not help listening for 
 the sound of the waves; and as there was no such message 
 coming to her from the great wooded plain without, her 
 fancy took her away across that mighty country she Lad 
 traveled through, and carried her up to the island of Loch 
 Roag, until she almost fancied she could smell the peat-smoke 
 in the night air, and listen to the sea, and hear her father 
 pacing up and down the gravel outside the house, perhaps 
 thinking of her as she was thinking of him. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 167 
 
 This little excursion to Richmond was long remembered by 
 those three. It was the last of their meetings before Sheila 
 was ushered into the big world to busy herself with new oc- 
 cupations and cares. It was a pleasant- little journey through- 
 out, for as they got into the landau to drive back to town, 
 the moon was shining high up in the Southern heavens, and 
 the air was mild and fresh, so that they had the carriage 
 opened, and Sheila, well wrapped up, lay and looked around 
 her with a strange wonder and joy as they drove underneath 
 the shadow of the trees and out again into the clear sheen of 
 the night. They saw the river, too, flowing smoothly and 
 palely down between its dark banks; and somehow here the 
 silence checked them, and they hummed no more those duets 
 they used to sing up at Borva. Of what were they thinking, 
 then, as they drove through the clear night along the lonely 
 road ? Lavender, at least, was rejoicing at his great good 
 fortune that he had secured for ever to himself the true- 
 hearted girl who now sat opposite to him, with the moonlight 
 touching her face and hair; and he was laughing to himself 
 at the notion that he did not properly appreciate her, or un- 
 derstand her, or perceive her real character. If not he, who 
 then? Had he not watched every turn of her disposition, 
 every expression of her wishes, every grace of her manner 
 and look of her eyes? and was he not overjoyed to find that 
 the more he knew of her the more he loved her ? 
 
 Marriage had increased rather than diminished the mys- 
 tery and wonder he had woven about her. He was more 
 her lover now than he had been before his marriage. Who 
 could see in her eyes what he saw? Elderly folks can look 
 at a girl's eyes and see that they are brown or blue or green, 
 as the case may be; but the lover looks at them and sees in 
 them the magic mirror of a hundred possible worlds. How 
 can he fathom the sea of dreams that lies there, or tell what 
 strange fancies or reminiscences may be involved in an ab- 
 sent look ? Is she thinking of starlit nights on some distant 
 lake, or of the old by-gone days on the hills? All her former 
 life is told there, and yet but half told, and he longs to be- 
 come possessed of all the beautiful past that she has seen. 
 Here is a constant mystery to him, and there is a singular and 
 wistful attraction for him in those still deeps where the 
 thoughts and dreams of an innocent soul lie but half re- 
 vealed. He does not see those things in the eyes of women 
 
A PRINCESS o* THULE. 
 
 he is not in love with; but when, in after years, he is carelessly 
 regarding this or the other woman, some chance look, some 
 brief and sudden turn of expression, will recall to him, as 
 with a stroke of lightning, all the old wonder-time, and his 
 heart will go nigh to breaking to think that he has grown 
 old, and that he has forgotten so much, and that the fair, 
 wild days of romance and longing are passed away forever. 
 
 " Ingram thinks I don't understand you yet, Sheila," he 
 said to her, after they had got home and their friends had 
 gone. 
 
 Sheila only laughed, and said, " I don't understand myself 
 sometimes." 
 
 " Eh ? What ?" he cried. " Do you mean to say that I 
 have married a conundrum ? If I have I don't mean to give 
 you up, anyway, so you may go and get a biscuit and a drop 
 of the whisky we brought from the North with us. v 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE FIRST PLUNGE. 
 
 FRANK LAVENDER was a good deal more concerned than 
 he chose to show about the effect that Sheila was likely to 
 produce on his aunt; and when at length the day arrived on 
 which the young folks were to go down to Kensington Gore, 
 he had inwardly to confess that Sheila seemed a great deal 
 less perturbed than himself. Her perfect calmness and self- 
 possession surprised him. The manner in which she had 
 dressed herself, with certain modifications which he could 
 not help approving, according to the fashion of the time, 
 seemed to him a miracle of dexterity; and how had she ac- 
 quired the art of looking at ease in this attire, which was 
 much more cumbrous than she had usually worn in Borva ? 
 
 If Lavender had but known the truth, he would have be- 
 gun to believe something of what Ingram had vaguely hinted. 
 This poor girl was looking toward her visit to Kensington 
 Gore as the most painful trial of her life. While she was 
 outwardly calm and firm, and even cheerful, her heart sank 
 within her as she thought of the dreaded interview. Those 
 garments which she wore with such an appearance of ease 
 and comfort, had been the result of many an hour of anx- 
 iety, for how was she to tell;, from her husband's raillery, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 what colors the terrible old lady in Kensingtcfo would prob-- 
 ably like ? He did not know that every word he said in joke 
 about his aunt's temper, her peevish ways, the awful conse- 
 quences of offending her, and so forth, were like so many" 
 needles stuck into the girl's heart, until she was ready to cry 
 out to be released from this fearful ordeal. Moreover, as the 
 day came near what he could not see in her she saw in him.! 
 Was she likely to be reassured when she perceived that lief 
 husband, in spite of all his fun, was really anxious, and when 
 she knew that some blunder on her part might ruin him? In 
 fact, if he had suspected for a moment that she was really 
 trembling to think of what might happen, he might have 
 made some effort to give her courage. But apparently Sheila 
 was as cool and collected as if he had been going to see John 
 the Piper. He believed she could have gone to be presented 
 to the Queen without a single tremor of heart. 
 
 Still, he was a man, and therefore bound to assume an air 
 of patronage. " She won't eat you, really," he said to Sheila, 
 as they were driving in a hansom down Kensington Palace 
 Gardens. " All you have got to do is to believe in her theories 
 of food. She won't make you a martyr to them. She mea- 
 sures every half ounce of what she eats, but she won't starve 
 you; and I am glad to think, Sheila, that you have brought a 
 remarkably good and sensible appetite with you from the 
 Lewis. Oh, by the way, take care you say nothing against 
 Marcus Aurelius." 
 
 " I don't know who he was, dear," observed Sheila, meek- 
 
 iy. 
 
 "He was a Roman emperor and a philosopher. I suppose 
 it was because he was an emperor that he found it easy to bf 
 a philosopher. However, my aunt is nuts on Marcus Aure- 
 lius: I beg your pardon, you don't know the phrase. My 
 aunt makes Marcus Aurelius her Bible, and she is sure to 
 read you bits from him, which you must believe, you know." 
 
 " I will try," said Sheila, doubtfully, "but if " 
 
 "Oh, it has nothing to do with religion. I don't think 
 anybody knows what Marcus Aurelius means, so you may as 
 well believe it. Ingram swears by him, but he is always full 
 of odd crotchets." 
 
 " Does Mr. Ingram believe in Marcus Aurelius?" said 
 Sheila, with some accession of interest. 
 
 " Why, lie gave my aunt the book years ago confound 
 
170 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 him! and ever since she has been a nuisance to her friends. 
 For my own part, you know, I don't believe that Marcus 
 Aurelius was quite such an ass as Plato. He talks the same 
 sort of perpetual commonplaces, but it isn't about the true, 
 the good and the beautiful. Would you like me to repeat 
 one of the dialogues of Plato about the immorality of 
 Mr. Cole and the moral effect of the South Kensington Mu- 
 seum ?" 
 
 "No, dear, I shouldn't," said Sheila. 
 
 " You deprive yourself of a treat, but never mind. Here 
 we are at my aunt's house." 
 
 Sheila timidly glanced at the place, while her husband paid 
 the cabman, It was a tall, narrow, dingy-looking house of 
 dark brick, with some black-green ivy at the foot of the 
 walls, and with crimson curtains formally arranged in every 
 one of the windows. If Mrs. Lavender was a rich old lady, 
 why did she live in such a gloomy building? Sheila had 
 seen beautiful white houses in all parts of London; her own 
 house, for example, was ever so much more cheerful than this 
 one, and yet she had heard with awe of the value of this de- 
 pressing little mansion in Kensington Gore. 
 
 The door was opened by a man, who showed them up- 
 stairs and announced their names. Sheila's heart beat quick- 
 ly. She entered the drawing-room with a sort of mist be- 
 fore her eyes, and found herself going forward to a lady who 
 sat at the farther end. She had a strangely vivid impression, 
 amid all her alarm, that this old lady looked like the withered 
 kernel of a nut. Or, was she not like a cockatoo ? It was 
 through no anticipation of dislike to Mrs. Lavender that the 
 imagination of the girl got hold of that notion. But the old 
 lady held her head like a cockatoo. What was there, more- 
 over, about the decorations of her head that reminded one 
 of a cockatoo when it puts up its crest and causes its feathers 
 to look like sticks of celery. 
 
 " Aunt Caroline, this is my wife." 
 
 "I am glad to see you, dear," said the old lady, giving 
 her hand, but not rising. " Sit down. When you are a little 
 nervous you ought to sit down. Frank, give me that am- 
 monia from the mantelpiece." 
 
 It was a small glass phial, and labeled " Poison." She 
 smelt the stopper, and then handed it to Sheila, telling her to 
 do the same. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 17! 
 
 " Why did your maid do your hair in such a way?" she 
 asked suddenly. 
 
 "I haven't got a maid," said Sheila, "and I always do my 
 hair so." 
 
 " Don't be offended. I like it. But you must not make a 
 fool of yourself. Your hair is too much that of a country 
 beauty going to a ball. Paterson will show you how to do 
 your hair." 
 
 " Oh, I say, aunt," cried Lavender, with a fine show of care- 
 lessness, " you mustn't go and spoil her hair. I think it is 
 very pretty as it is, and that woman of yours would simply go 
 and make a mop of it. You'd think the girls nowadays 
 dressed their hair by shoving their head into a furze bush 
 and giving it a couple of turns." 
 
 She paid no heed to him, but turned to Sheila and said, 
 "You are an only child ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why did you leave your father?" 
 
 The question was rather a cruel one, and it stung Sheila 
 into answering bravely. " Because my husband wished me." 
 
 "Oh! You think your husband is to be the first law of 
 your life?" 
 
 "Yes, I do." 
 
 " Even when he is only silly Frank Lavender ?" 
 
 Sheila rose. There was a quivering of her lips, but no 
 weakness in the proud, indignant look of her eyes: 
 
 " What you may say of me, that I do not care. But I will 
 not remain to hear my husband insulted." 
 
 "Sheila," said Lavender, vexed and anxious, and yet 
 pleased at the same time by the courage of the girl " Sheila, 
 it is only a joke. You must not mind; it is only a bit of 
 fun." 
 
 "I do not understand such jests," she said, calmly. 
 
 " Sit down, like a good girl," said the old lady with an air 
 of absolute indifference. "I did not mean to offend you. 
 Sit down and be quiet. You will destroy your nervous sys- 
 tem if you give way to such impulses. I think you are healthy. 
 I like the look of you, but you will never reach a good age, 
 as I hope to do, except by moderating your passions. That 
 is well; now take the ammonia again and give it to me. 
 You don't wish to die young, I suppose ?" 
 
 " I am not afraid of dying," said Sheila. 
 
27* A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Ring the bell, Frank." 
 
 He did so, and a tall, spare, grave- faced woman appeared. 
 
 " Paterson, you must put luncheon on at two-ten. I or- 
 dered it at one-fifty, did I not ?" 
 
 " Yes, m'm." 
 
 " See that it is served at two-ten, and take this young lady 
 ;and get her hair properly done. You understand? My 
 'nephew and I will wait luncheon for her." 
 
 "Yes, m'm.'' 
 
 Sheila rose with a great swelling in her throat. All her 
 courage had ebbed away. She had reflected how pained her 
 husband would be if she did not please this old lady; and 
 she was now prepared to do anything she was told, to receive 
 meekly any remarks that might be made to her, to be quite 
 obedient and gentle and submissive. But what was this tall 
 and terrible woman going to do to her? Did she really 
 mean to cut away those great masses of hair to which Mrs. 
 Lavender had objected ! Sheila would have let her hair be 
 cut willingly for her husband's sake; but as she went to the 
 door some wild and despairing notions came into her head of 
 what her husband might think of her when once she was 
 shorn of this beautiful personal feature. Would he look at 
 her with surprise perhaps even with disappointment? 
 
 " Mind you don't keep luncheon late," he said to her as 
 she passed him. 
 
 She but indistinctly heard him, so great was the trembling 
 within her. Her father would scarcely know his altered 
 Sheila when she went back to Borva; and what would Mairi 
 say Mairi who had many a time helped her to arrange those 
 long tresses, and who was as proud of them as if they were 
 ner own ? She followed Mrs. Lavender's tall maid up-stairs. 
 She entered a small dressing-room and glanced nervously 
 around. Then she suddenly turned, looked for a moment at 
 the woman, and said, with tears rushing up into her eyes : 
 "Does Mrs. Lavender wish me to cut my hair?" 
 
 The woman regarded her with astonishment. "Cut, miss? 
 ma'am. I beg your pardon. No, ma'am, not at all. I 
 suppose it is only some difference in the arrangement, ma'am. 
 Mrs. Lavender is very particular about the hair, and she has 
 asked me to show several ladies how to dress the hair in the 
 way she likes. But perhaps you would prefer letting it remain. 
 as it is, ma'am? 5 ' 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE, 173 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all," said Sheila. " I should like to hare 
 it just as Mrs. Lavender wishes in every way just as she 
 wishes. Only it will not be necessary to cut any?" 
 
 " Oh, no, miss ma'am ; and it would be a great pity, if I 
 may say so, to cut your hair. 5 ' 
 
 Sheila was pleased to hear that. Here was a woman who 
 had a large experience in such matters among those very 
 ladies of her husband's social circle whom she had been a 
 little afraid to meet. Mrs. Paterson seemed to admire her 
 hair as much as the simple Mairi had done ; and Sheila 
 soon began to have less fear of the terrible tiring-woman, who 
 forthwith proceeded with her task. 
 
 The young wife went down stairs with a tower upon her 
 head. She was very uncomfortable. She had seen, it is 
 true, that this method of dressing the hair really became her 
 or rather would become her in certain circumstances. It was 
 grand, imposing, statuesque, but then she did not feel statu- 
 esque just at this moment. She could have dressed herself 
 to suit this style of hair; she could have worn it with confi- 
 dence if she had got it up herself ; but here she was the vic- 
 tim of an experiment. She felt like a school-girl about, for 
 the first time, to appear in public in a long dress, and she 
 was terribly afraid her husband would laugh at her. If he 
 had any such inclination he courteously suppressed it. He 
 said the massive simplicity of this dressing of the hair suited 
 her admirably. Mrs. Lavender said that Paterson was an 
 invaluable woman ; and then they went down to the dining- 
 room on the ground floor, where luncheon had been laid. 
 
 The man who had opened the door waited on the two 
 strangers; the invaluable Paterson acted as a sort of hench- 
 woman to her mistress, standing by her chair and supplying 
 her wants. She also had the management of a small pair of 
 silver scales, in which pretty nearly everything that Mrs. 
 Lavender took in the way of solid food was carefully and 
 accurately weighed. The conversation was chiefly aliment- 
 ary, and Sheila listened with a growing wonder to the de- 
 scription of the devices by which the ladies of Mrs. Laven- 
 der's acquaintances were wont to cheat fatigue or win an ap- 
 petite or preserve their color. When by accident the girl 
 herself was appealed to, she had to confess to an astonish- 
 ing ignorance of all such resources. She knew nothing of 
 the relative strengths and^effects of wines, though she was 
 
174 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 frankly ready to make any experiment her husband recom- 
 mended. She knew what camphor was, but had never heard 
 of bismuth. On cross-examination she had to admit that 
 eau-de-cologne did not seem to her likely to be a pleasant 
 liquor before going to a ball. Did she not know the effect 
 on brown hair of washing it in soda-water every night ? 
 She was equably confessing her ignorance on all such points 
 whan she was staitled by a sudden question from Mrs. Laven- 
 der. Did she know what she was doing ? 
 
 She looked at her plate; there was on it a piece of cheese 
 to which she had thoughtlessly helped herself. Somebody 
 had called it Roquefort that was all she knew. 
 
 "You have as much there, child, as would kill a plough- 
 man ; and I suppose you would not have had the sense to 
 leave it." 
 
 "Is it poison ?" said Sheila, regarding her plate with 
 horror. 
 
 " All cheese is. Paterson, my scales." 
 
 She had Sheila's plate brought to her, and the proper modi- 
 cum of cheese cut, weighed and sent back. 
 
 " Remember, whatever house you are in, never to have 
 more Roquefort than that." 
 
 " It would be simpler to do without," said Sheila. 
 
 "It would be simple enough to do without a great many 
 things," said Mrs. Lavender, severely. " But the wisdom of 
 living is to enjoy as many different things as possible, so 
 long as you do so in moderation and preserve your health. 
 You are young you don't think of such things. You 
 think, because you have ^.ood teeth and a clear complexion, 
 you can eat anything. But that won't last. A time will 
 come. Do you not know what the great Emperor Marcus 
 Antoninus says ? ' In a little while thou wilt be nobody and 
 nowhere, like Hadrianus and Augustus.' " 
 
 " Yes," said Sheila. 
 
 She had not enjoyed her luncheon much; she would rather 
 have had a ham sandwich and a glass of spring water on the 
 side of a Highland hill than this varied and fastidious re- 
 past accompanied by a good deal of physiology; but it was 
 too bad that, having successfully got through it, she should 
 be threatened with annihilation immediately afterward. It 
 was no sort of consolation to her to know that she would be 
 in the same plight with two emperors. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 175 
 
 " Frank, you can go and smoke a cigar in the conservatory 
 if you please. Your wife will come up-stairs with me and 
 have a talk." 
 
 Sheila would much rather have gone into the conservatory 
 also, but she obediently followed Mrs. Lavender up-stairs and 
 into the drawing-room. It was rather a melancholy chamber, 
 the curtains shutting out most of the daylight, and leaving 
 you in a semi-darkness that made the place look big and 
 vague and spectral. The little, shrivelled woman, with the 
 hard and staring eyes and silver-gray hair, bade Sheila sit 
 down beside her. She herself sat by a small table, on which 
 there were a tiny pair of scales, a bottle of ammonia, a fan, 
 and a book bound in an old-fashioned bin ding of scarlet mo- 
 rocco and gold. Sheila wished this old woman would not 
 look at her so. She wished there was a window open or a glint 
 of sunlight coming in somewhere. But she was glad that her 
 husband was enjoying himself in the conservatory, and that 
 for two reasons. One of them was, that she-did not like the 
 tone of his talk while he and his aunt had been conversing 
 together about the cosmetics and such matters. Not only 
 did he betray a marvelous acquaintance with such things, but 
 he seemed to take an odd sort of pleasure in exhibiting his 
 knowledge. He talked about the tricks of fashionable women 
 in a mocking way that Sheila did not quite like; and of 
 course she naturally threw the blame on Mrs. Lavender. It 
 was only when this old lady exerted a godless influence over 
 him that her good boy talked in such a fashion. There was 
 nothing of that about him in Lewis, nor yet at home in a cer- 
 tain snug little smoking-room which these two had come to 
 consider the most comfortable corner in the house. Sheila 
 began to hate women who used lip-salve, and silently re- 
 corded a vow that never, never, never would she wear any- 
 body's hair but her own. 
 
 " Do you suffer from headaches ?" said Mrs. Lavender, 
 abruptly. . 
 
 " Sometimes," said Sheila. 
 
 '* How often ? What is an average ? Two a week ?" 
 
 " Oh, sometimes I have not a headache for three or four 
 months at a time." 
 
 ' No toothache ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What did your mother die of?" 
 
If6 A tRlNCESS OF TMUI.fi. 
 
 *' It was a fever,'' said Sheila, in a low voice, " and she 
 caught it while she was helping a family that was very bad 
 with the fever." 
 
 " Does your father ever suffer from rheumatism ?" 
 " No, "said Sheila. " My papa is the strongest man in the 
 Lewis I am sure of that." 
 
 " But the strongest of us, you know," said Mrs. Lavender, 
 looking hardly at the girl " the strongest of us will die and 
 go into the general order of the universe; and it is a good 
 thing for you that, as you say, you are not afraid. Why 
 should you be afraid ? Listen to this passage. 5 ' She opened 
 the red book, and guided herself to a certain page by one of 
 a series of colored ribbons: " ' He who fears death either 
 fears the loss of sensation or a different kind of sensation. 
 But if thou shalt have no sensation, neither wilt thou feel any 
 harm; and if thou shalt acquire another kind of sensation, 
 thou will be a different kind of living being, and thou wilt 
 not cease to live.' Do you perceive the wisdom of that ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Sheila, and her own voice seemed hollow and 
 Strange to her in this big and dimly-lit chamber. 
 
 Mrs. Lavender turned over a few more pages and pro- 
 ceeded to read again ; and as she did so, in a slow, unsym- 
 pathetic, monotonous voice, a spell came over the girl, the 
 weight at her heart grew more and more intolerable, and the 
 room seemed to grow darker : " 'Short, then, is the time 
 which every man lives, and small the nook of the earth 
 where he lives; and short, too, the longest posthumous fame, 
 and even this only continued by a succession of poor human 
 beings, who will very soon die, and who know not even 
 themselves, much less him who died long ago.' You cannot 
 do better than ask your husband to buy you a copy of this 
 book and give it special study. It will comfort you in afflic- 
 tion, and reconcile you to whatever may happen to you. 
 L sttin: 'Soon will the earth cover us all! then the earth, too, 
 \v 11 ciiange, and the things also which result from change 
 wul continue to change forever, and these again forever. 
 For if a man reflects on the changes and transformations 
 which follow one another like wave after wave, and with 
 their rapidity, he will despise everything which is perishable.' 
 Do you understand that?" 
 
 " Yes," said Sheila, and it seemed to her that she was being 
 suffocated. Would not the gray walls burst asunder and 
 
A PRINCESS 0? TtfULfi. 1)7 
 
 show her one glimpse of the blue sky before she sank into 
 an consciousness? Trie monotonous tones of this old woman's 
 foice sounded like the repetition of a psalm over a coffin. 
 It was as if she was already shut out of life, and could only 
 hear, in a vague way, the tiismai words being chanted over 
 her by the people in the otner world. She rose, steadied 
 herself for a moment by placing her hand on the back of the 
 chair, and managed to say : ' Mrs. Lavender, forgive me 
 for one moment; I wish to speak to my husband." 
 
 She went to the door Mrs. Lavender being too surprised 
 to follow her and made her way down stairs. She had seen 
 the conservatory at the end of a certain passage. She reached 
 it, and then she scarcely knew any more, except that her 
 husband caught her in his arms as she cried: *'Oh, Frank, 
 Frank, take me away from this house f I am afraid ; it ter- 
 rifies me!" 
 
 " Sheila, what on earth is the matter? Here, come out 
 into the fresh air. By Jove, how pale you are! Will you 
 have some water?" 
 
 He could not get to understand thoroughly what had oc- 
 curred. What he clearly did learn from Sheila's disjointed 
 and timid explanations was that there had been another 
 "scene," and he knew that of all things in the world his 
 aunt hated " scenes " the worst. As soon as he saw that 
 there was little the matter with Sheila beyond considerable 
 mental perturbation, he could not help addressing some little 
 remonstrance to her, and reminding her how necessary it was 
 that she should not offend the old lady up-stairs. 
 
 "You should not be so excitable, Sheila," he said. " You 
 take such exaggerated notions about things. I am sure my 
 aunt meant nothing unkind. And what did you say when 
 you came away ?" 
 
 "I said I wanted to see you. Are you angry with me ?" 
 
 " No, of course not. But then, you see, it is a little vex- 
 ing just at this moment. Well, let us go up-stairs at once, 
 and try to make up some excuse, like a good girl. Say you 
 felt faint anything." 
 
 " And you will come with me ?" 
 
 " Yes. Now do try, Sheila, to make friends with my aunt. 
 She is not such a bad sort of creature as you seem to think. 
 She's been very kind to me she'll be very kind to you when 
 she knows you more." , ~^__ 
 
178 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Fortunately no excuse was necessary, for Mrs. Lavender, 
 in Sheila's absence, had arrived at the conclusion that the 
 girl's temporary faintness was due to that piece of Roquefort. 
 
 "You see, you must be careful," she said, when they en- 
 tered the room. " You are unaccustomed to a great many 
 things you will like afterward." 
 
 "And the room is a little close," said Lavender. 
 
 "I don't think so," said his aunt, sharply j "look at the 
 barometer." 
 
 " I didn't mean for you and me, Aunt Caroline," he said, 
 "but for her. Sheila has been accustomed to live almost 
 wholly in the open air." 
 
 " The open air in moderation is an excellent thing. I go 
 out myself every afternoon, wet or dry. And I was going to 
 oropose, Frank, that you should leave her here with me 
 for the afternoon, and come back and dine with us at 
 seven. I am going out at four-thirty, and she could go with 
 me." 
 
 " It's very kind of you, Aunt Caroline, but we have prom- 
 ised to call on some people close by here at four." 
 
 Sheila looked up frightened. The statement was an auda- 
 cious perversion of the truth. But then Frank Lavender 
 knew very well what his aunt meant by going into the open 
 air every afternoon, wet or dry. At one certain hour her 
 brougham was brought around, she got into it and had both 
 doors and windows hermetically sealed, and then, in a semi- 
 somnolent state, she was driven slowly and monotonously 
 around the Park. How would Sheila fare if she were shut 
 up in this box? He told a lie with great equanimity, and 
 saved her. 
 
 Then Sheila was taken away to get on her things, and her 
 husband waited, with some little trepidation, to hear what 
 his aunt would say about her. He had not long to wait. 
 
 " She's got a bad temper, Frank." 
 
 " Oh, I don't think so, Aunt Caroline,'' he said, consider- 
 ably startled. 
 
 " Mark my words, she's got a bad temper, and she is not 
 nearly so soft as she tries to make out. That girl has a great 
 deal of firmness, Frank." 
 
 " I find her as gentle and submissive as a girl could be 
 a little too gentle, perhaps, and anxious to study the wishes 
 of other folks." 
 
Jl PRINCESS OF THULE. 179 
 
 " That is all very well with you. You are her master. She 
 is not likely to quarrel with her bread and butter. But you'll 
 see if she does not hold her own when she gets among your 
 friends." 
 
 " I hope she will hold her own." 
 
 The old lady only shook her head. J 
 
 " I am sorry you should have taken a prejudice against 
 her, Aunt Caroline," said the young man, humbly. 
 
 " I take a prejudice ! Don't let me hear the word again, 
 Frank. You know I have no prejudices. If I cannot give 
 you a reason for anything, I believe then I cease to believe it." 
 
 " You have not heard her sing," he said, suddenly remem- 
 bering that this means of conquering the old lady had been 
 neglected. 
 
 "I have no doubt she has many accomplishments," said 
 Aunt Caroline, coldly. " In time, I suppose, she will get 
 over that extraordinary accent she has." 
 
 " Many people like it." 
 
 '' I dare say you do at present. But you may tire of it. 
 You married her in a hurry, and you have not got rid of 
 your romance yet. At the same time, I dare say she is a 
 very good sort of girl, and will not disgrace you if you in- 
 struct and manage her properly. But remember my words 
 she has a temper, and you will find it out if you thwart her." 
 
 How sweet and fresh the air was, even in Kensington, 
 when Sheila, having dressed and come down stairs, and after 
 having dutifully kissed Mrs. Lavender and bade her good- 
 bye, went outside with her husband! It was like coming 
 back to the light of day from inside the imaginary coffin in 
 which she had fancied herself placed. A soft West wind 
 was blowing over the Park, and a fairly clear sunlight 
 shining on the May green of the trees. And then she hung 
 on her husband's arm, and she had him to speak to instead 
 of the terrible old woman who talked about dying. 
 
 And yet she hoped she had not offended Mrs. Lavender, 
 for Frank's sake. What he thought about the matter he pru- 
 dently resolved to conceal. 
 
 "Do you know that you have greatly pleased my aunt?" 
 he said, without the least compunction. He knew that if he 
 breathed the least hint about what had actually been said, 
 any possibly amity between the two women would be ren- 
 dered impossible forever. 
 
l8o A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Have I, really?" said Sheila, very much astonished, but 
 never thinking for a moment of doubting anything said by 
 her husband. 
 
 "Oh, she likes you awfully," he said, with an infinite 
 coolness. 
 
 " I am so glad !" said Sheila, with her face brightening. 
 " I was so afraid, dear, I had offended her. She did not 
 look pleased with me." 
 
 By this time they had got into a hansom, and were driving 
 down to the South Kensington Museum. Lavender would 
 have preferred going into the Park, but what if his aunt, in 
 driving by, were to see them ? He explained v to Sheila the 
 absolute necessity of his having to tell that fib about the four 
 o'clock engagement ; and when she heard described the drive 
 in the closed brougham, which she had escaped, perhaps she 
 was not so greatly inclined as she ought to have been to pro- 
 test against that piece of wickedness. 
 
 " Oh, yes, she likes you awfully," he repeated, " and you 
 must get to like her. Don't be frightened at her harsh way 
 of saying things ; it is only a mannerism. She is really a 
 kind-hearted woman, and would do anything for me. That's 
 her best feature, looking at her character from my point of 
 view.'' 
 
 " How often must we go to see her ?" asked Sheila. 
 
 " Oh, not very often. But she will get up dinner parties, 
 at which you will be introduced to batches of her friends. 
 And then the best thing you can do is to put yourself under 
 her instructions, and take her advice about your dress and 
 such matters, just as you did about your hair. That was 
 very good of you." 
 
 " I am glad you were pleased with me," said Sheila. " I 
 will do what I can to like her. But she must talk more re- 
 spectfully of you." 
 
 Lavender laughed that little matter off as a joke, but it was 
 no joke to Sheila. She would try to like that old woman 
 yes; her duty to her husband demanded that she should. 
 But there are some things that a wife especially a girl who 
 has been newly made a wife will never forget; which, on 
 the contrary, she will remember with burning cheeks and 
 anger and indignation. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 6 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 HAD Sheila, then, Lavender could not help asking himself, 
 a bad temper, or any other qualities and characteristics 
 which were apparent to other people, but not to hftn ? Was 
 it possible that, after all, Ingram was right, and that he had 
 yet to learn the nature of the girl he had married ? It would 
 be unfair to say that he suspected something wrong about 
 his wife that he fancied she had managed to conceal some- 
 thing merely because Mrs. Lavender had said that Sheila 
 had a bad temper; but here was another person who main- 
 tained that when the days of his romance were over he would 
 see the girl in another light. 
 
 Nay, as he continued to ask himself, had not the change 
 already begun ? He grew less and less accustomed to see 
 in Sheila a beautiful wild sea-bird that had fluttered down for 
 a time into a strange hoir.e in the South. He had not quite for- 
 gotten or abandoned those imaginative scenes in which the 
 wonderful sea-princess was to enter crowded drawing-rooms 
 and have all the world standing back to regard her and ad- 
 mire her and sing her praises. But now he was not so sure 
 that that would be the result of Sheila's entrance into society. 
 As the date of a certain dinner-party drew near, he began to 
 wish she was more like the women he knew. He did not ob- 
 ject to her strange, sweet ways of speech, nor to her odd 
 likes and dislikes, nor even to an unhesitating frankness that 
 nearly approached rudeness sometimes in its scorn of all 
 compromise with the truth ; but how would others regard 
 these things? He did not wish to gain the reputation of hav- 
 ing married an oddity. 
 
 " Sheila," he said, on the morning of the day on which 
 they were going to this dinner-party, "you should not say 
 like-a-ness. There are only two syllables in likeness. It 
 really does sound absurd to hear you say like-a^ness? 
 
 She looked up to him, with a quick trouble in her eyes. 
 
I2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 When had he spoken to her so petulantly before ? And then 
 she cast down her eyes again, and said, submissively, " I will 
 try not to speak like that. When you po out I take a book 
 and read aloud, and try to speak like you; but I cannot 
 learn all at once." 
 
 " /don't mind," he said ; " but, you know, other people 
 must think it so odd. I wonder why you should always say 
 \gyarden for garden now, when it is just as easy to say 
 garden /" 
 
 Once upon a time he had said there was no English like 
 the English spoken in Lewis, and had singled out this very 
 word as typical of one peculiarity in the pronunciation. But 
 she did not remind him of that. She only said, in the 
 same simple fashion, " If you will tell me my faults, I wiij 
 try to correct them." 
 
 She turned away from him to get an envelope for a letter 
 she had been writing to her father. He fancied something 
 was wrong, and perhaps some touch of compunction smote 
 him, for he went after her and took her hand, and said, 
 "Look here, Sheila. When I point out any trifles like that, 
 you must not call them faults, and fancy that I have any se- 
 rious complaint to make. It is for your own good that you 
 should meet the people who will be your friends on equal 
 terms, and give them as little as possible to talk about." 
 
 " I should not mind their talking about me," said Sheila, 
 with her eyes still cast down, "but it is your wife they must not 
 talk about ; and if you will tell me anything I do wrong I will 
 correct it." 
 
 " Oh, you must not think it is anything so serious as that. 
 You will soon pick up from the ladies you will meet some 
 notion of how you differ from them; and if you should 
 startle or puzzle them a little at first by talking about, the' 
 chances of the fishing or the catching of wild duck, or the 
 way to reclaim bog-land, you will soon get over all that." 
 
 Sheila said nothing, but she made a mental memorandum 
 of three things she was not to speak about. She did not 
 know why these subjects should be forbidden, but she was 
 in a strange land and going to see strange people, whose 
 habits were different from hers. Moreover, when her hus- 
 band had gone she reflected that these people, having no 
 fishing and peat-mosses, and no wild-duck, could not pos- 
 sibly be interested in such affairs; and thus she fancied she 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. lC3 
 
 perceived the reason why she should avoid all mention of 
 these things. 
 
 When, in the evening, Sheila came down dressed and 
 ready to go out, Lavender had to admit to himself that he 
 had married an exceedingly beautiful girl, and that there 
 was no country gawkiness about her manner, and no placid 
 insipidity about her proud and handsome face. For one 
 brief moment, he triumphed in his heart, and had some wild 
 glimpse of his old project of startling his small world with 
 this vision from the Northern seas. But when he got into 
 the hired brougham, and thought of the people he was about 
 to meet, and of the manner in which they would carry awav 
 such and such impressions of the girl, he lost faith in thlsi ' 
 admiration. He would much rather have had Sheila un- 
 noticeable and unnoticed one who would quietly take her 
 place at the dinner-table, and attract no more special atten- 
 tion than the flowers, for example, which every one would 
 glance at with some satisfaction, and then forget in the in- 
 terest of talking and dining. He was quite conscious of his 
 own weakness in thus fearing social criticism. He knew that 
 Ingram would have taken Sheila anywhere in her blue serge 
 dress, and been quite content and oblivious of observation. 
 But then Ingram was independent of these social circles in 
 which a married man must move, and in which his position 
 is often denned for him by the disposition and manners of 
 his wife. Ingram did not know how women talked. It was 
 for Sheila's own sake, he persuaded himself, that he was 
 anxious about the impression she should make, and that he 
 had drilled her in all that she should do and say. 
 
 " Above all things," he raid, " mind you take no notice of 
 me. Another man will take you in to dinner, of course, and 
 I shall take in somebody else, and we shall not be near each, 
 other. But it's after dinner, I mean : when the men go into' 
 the drawing-room don't you come and speak to me or take 
 any notice of me whatever." 
 
 " Mayn't I look at you, Frank ?" 
 
 "If you do, you'll have half a dozen people all watching 
 you, saying to themselves or to each other, ' Poor thing! she 
 hasn't got over her infatuation yet. Isn't it pretty to see how 
 naturally her eyes turn toward him ?' " 
 
 " But I shouldn't mind them saying that," said Sheila, 
 with a smile. 
 
184 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Oh, you musn't be pitied in that fashion. Let them keep 
 their compassion to themselves." 
 
 "Do you know, dear," said Sheila, very quietly, "that I 
 think you exaggerate the interest people will take in me ? I 
 don't think I can be of such importance to them. I don't 
 think they will be watching me as you fancy." 
 
 " Oh, you don't know," he said. "I know they fancy I 
 have done something romantic, heroic and all that kind of 
 thing, and they are curious to see you." 
 
 " They cannot hurt me by looking at me,'' said Sheila 
 simply. " And they will soon find out how little there is to 
 discover." 
 
 The house being in Holland Park, they had not far to go; 
 and just as they were driving up to the door a young man, 
 slight, sandy-haired, and stooping, got out of a hansom and 
 crossed the pavement. 
 
 " By Jove !" said Lavender, " there is Redburn. I did not 
 know he knew Mrs. Lorraine and her mother. That is Lord 
 Arthur Redburn, Sheila ; mind, if you should talk to him, 
 not to call him ' my lord.' " 
 
 Sheila laughed and said, " How am I to remember all these 
 things?" 
 
 They got into the house, and by-and-by Lavender found 
 himself, with Sheila on his arm, entering a drawing-room to 
 present her to certain of his friends. It was a large room, 
 with a great deal of gilding and color about it, and with a 
 conservatory at the further end; but the blaze of light had 
 not so bewildering an effect on Sheila's eyes as the appear- 
 ance of two ladies to whom she was now introduced. She 
 had heard much about them. She was curious to see them. 
 Many a time had she thought over the strange story Laven- 
 der had told her of the woman who heard that her husband 
 was dying in a hospital during the war, and started off, her- 
 self and her daughter, to find him out ; how there was in the 
 same hospital another dying man whom they had known 
 some years before, and who had gone away because the girl 
 would not listen to him; how this man, being very near to 
 death, begged that the girl would do him the last favor he 
 would ask of her, of wearing his name and inheriting his 
 property; and how, some few hours after the strange and sad 
 ceremony had been performed, he breathed his last, happy 
 4 holding her hand. The father died next day, and the two. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 185 
 
 widows were thrown upon the world, almost without friends, 
 but not without means. This man, Lorraine, had been pos- 
 sessed of considerable wealth, and the girl who had suddenly 
 become mistress of it found herself able to employ all possi- 
 ble ueans in assuaging her mother's grief. They began to 
 travel. The two women went from capital to capital, until 
 at last they came to London; and here, having gathered 
 around them a considerable number of friends, they pro- 
 posed to take up their residence permanently. Lavender 
 had often talked to Sheila about Mrs. Lorraine; about her 
 shrewdness, her sharp sayings, and the odd contrast between 
 this clever, keen, frank woman of the world and the woman 
 one would have expected to be the heroine of a pathetic 
 tale. 
 
 But were there two Mrs. Lorraines? That had been Sheila's 
 first question to herself when, after having been introduced 
 to one lady under that name, she suddenly saw before her 
 another, who was introduced to her as Mrs. Kavanagh, The 
 mother and daughter were singularly alike. They had the 
 same slight and graceful figure, which made them appear 
 taller thin they really were, the same pale, fine, and rather 
 handsome features, the same large, clear gray eyes, and ap- 
 parently the same abundant mass of soft, fair hair, heavily 
 plaited in the latest fashion. They were both dressed en- 
 tirely in black, except that the daughter had a band of blue 
 round her slender waist. It was soon apparent, too, that the 
 manner of the two women was singularly different; Mrs. 
 Kavanagh bearing herself with a certain sad reserve that al- 
 most approached melancholy at times, while her daughter, 
 with more life and spirit in her face, passed rapidly through 
 all sorts of varying moods until one could scarcely tell 
 whether the affectation lay in a certain cynical audacity in 
 her speech, or whether it lay in her assumption of a certain 
 coyness and archness, or whether there was any affectation 
 at all in the matter. However that might be, there could be 
 no doubt about the sincerity of those gray eyes of hers. 
 There was something almost cruelly frank in the clear look 
 of them; and when her face was not lit by some passing 
 smile, the pale and fine features seemed to borrow something 
 of severity from her unflinching, calm and dispassionate 
 habit of regarding those around her. 
 
 Sheila was prepared to like Mrs. Lorraine from the first 
 
l86 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 moment she had caught sight cf her. The honesty of the 
 gray eyes attracted her. And, indeed, the young widow 
 seemed very much interested in the young wife, and, so far 
 as she could, in that awkward period just before dinner, 
 strove to make friends with her. Sheila was introduced to a 
 number of people, but none of them pleased her as well as 
 Mrs. Lorraine. Then dinner was announced, and Sheila 
 found that she was being escorted across the passage to the 
 room on the other side by the young man whom she had seen 
 get out of the hansom. 
 
 This Lord Arthur Redburn was the younger son of a great 
 Tory duke ; he represented in the House a small country 
 borough, which his father practically owned ; he had a fair 
 amount of ability, an uncommonly high opinion of himself, 
 and a certain affectation of being bored by the frivolous 
 ways and talk of ordinary society. He gave himself credit 
 for being the clever member of the family; and if there was 
 any cleverness going, he had it ; but there were some who 
 said that his reputation in the House and elsewhere as a good 
 speaker was mainly based on the fact that he had an abun- 
 dant assurance, and was not easily put out. Unfortunately, 
 the public could come to no decision on the point, for the 
 reporters were not kind to Lord Arthur, and the substance of 
 his speeches was as unknown to the world as his manner of 
 delivering them. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Lorraine had intended to tell this young 
 man something about the girl whom he was to take in to din- 
 ner, but she herself had been so occupied with Sheila that 
 the opportunity ercaped her. Lord Arthur accordingly 
 knew only that he was beside a very pretty woman, who was 
 a Mrs. Somebody the exact name he had not caught and 
 that the few words she had spoken were pronounced in a 
 curious way. Probably, he thought, she was from Dublin. 
 
 He also arrived at the conclusion that she was too pretty to 
 know anything about the Deceased Wife's S'ster bill, in 
 which he was, for family reasons, deeply interested, and con- 
 sidered it more likely that she would prefer to talk about 
 theatres and such things. 
 
 "Were you at Covent Garden last 'night?" he said. 
 
 "No," answered Sheila. " But I was there two days ago, 
 and it is very pretty to see the flowers and the fruit; ancl 
 then they smell so sweetly as you walk through," 
 
A PRINCESS Otf THtlLE. 187 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is delightful," said Lord Arthur. "But I was 
 Speaking of the theatre." 
 
 "Is there a theatre in tnere ?" 
 
 He stared at her, and inwardly hoped she was not mad. 
 
 "Not in among the shops, no. But don't you know Co- 
 vent Garden Theatre?" 
 
 " I have never been in any theatre, not yet," said Sheila. 
 
 And then it began to dawn upon him that he must be talk- 
 ing to Frank Lavender's wife. Was there not some rumor 
 about the girl having come from a remote part of the High- 
 lands? He determined on a bold stroke: "You have not 
 been long enough in London to see the theatres, I suppose?" 
 
 And then Sheila, taking it for granted that he knew her 
 husband very well, and that he was quite familiar with all the 
 circumstances of the case, began to chat to him freely 
 enough. He found that this Highland girl, of whom he heard 
 vaguely, was not at all shy. He began to feel interested. 
 By and by he actually made efforts to assist her frankness, 
 by becoming equally frank, and by telling her all he knew 
 of the things with which they were mutually acquainted. Of 
 course, by this time they had got up into the Highlands. 
 The young man had himself been in the Highlands fre- 
 quently, indeed. He had never crossed to Lewis, but he had 
 seen the island from the Sutherlandshire roast. There were 
 very many deer in Sutherlandshire, were taere not ? Yes, he 
 had been out a great many times, and had had his share of 
 adventures. Had he not gone out there before daylight, and 
 waited on the top of a hill, hidden by some rocks, to watch 
 the mist clear along the hillsides and in the valley below? 
 Did he not tremble when he fired his first shot, and had not 
 something passed before his eyes, so that he could not see 
 for a moment whether the stag had fallen, or was away like 
 lightning down the bed of the stream? Somehow or other, 
 Lord Arthur found himself relating all his experiences, as if 
 he were a novice begging for the good opinion of a master. 
 She knew all about it, obviously, and he would tell her 
 his small adventures, if only that she might laugh at him. 
 But Sheila did not laugh. She was greatly delighted 
 to have this talk about the hills, and the deer, and the 
 wet mornings. She forgot all about the dinner before her. 
 The servants whipped off successive plates without her seeirig 
 anything of them ; tkef received random answers about wine, 
 
lS8 A fRINCESS OF TttULE. 
 
 so that she had three full glasses standing by her untouched! 
 She was no more in Holland Park at that moment than were 
 the wild animals of which she spoke so proudly and lovingly. 
 If the great and frail masses of flowers on the table brought 
 her any perfume at all, it was a scent of peat-smoke. Lord 
 Arthur thought that his companion was a little too frank 
 and confiding, or rather that she would have been had she 
 been talking to any one but himself. He rather liked it. He 
 was pleased to have established friendly relations with a pretty 
 woman in so short a space; but ought not her husband to 
 give her a hint about not admitting all and sundry to the en- 
 joyment of these favors ? Perhaps, too, Lord Arthur felt 
 bound to admit to himself there were some men who, more 
 than others, inspired ^confidence in women. He laid no 
 claims to being a fascinating person, but he had had his shaie 
 of success, and considered that Sheila showed discrimination, 
 as well as good nature, in talking so to him. There was, after 
 all, no necessity for her husband to warn her. She would 
 know how to guard against admitting all men to a like in- 
 timacy. In the meantime, he was very well pleased to be 
 sitting beside this pretty and agreeable companion, who had 
 an abundant fund of good spirits, and who showed no sort of 
 conscious embarrassment in thanking you with a bright look 
 of her eyes, or by a smile when you told her something that 
 pleased or amused her. 
 
 But these flattering little speculations were doomed to re- 
 ceive a sudden check. The juvenile M. P. began to remark 
 that a shade occasionally crossed the face of his fair com- 
 panion, and that she sometimes looked a -.little anxiously 
 across the table, where Mr. Lavender and Mrs. Lorraine were 
 seated, half hidden from view by a heap of silver and flowers 
 in the middle of the board. But though they could not 
 easily be seen, except at such moments as they turned to ad- 
 dress some neighbor, they could be distinctly enough heard 
 when there was any lull in the general conversation. And 
 what Sheila heard did not please her. She began to like that 
 fair, clear-eyed young woman less. Perhaps her husband 
 meant nothing by the fashion in which he talked of marriage 
 and the condition of a married man, but she would rather 
 have not heard him talk so. Moreover, she was aware that 
 in 1 the gentlest possible fashion Mrs. Lorraine was making 
 fun of her companion, and exposing him to small and grace- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. " 189 
 
 fai shafts of ridicule; while he seemed, on the whole, to en- 
 jtr, -.liese attacks. 
 
 The ingenuous self-love of Lord Arthur Redburn, M. P., 
 was severely wounded by the notion that, after all, he had 
 been made a cat's paw of by a jealous wife. He had been 
 flattered by this girl's exceeding friendliness; he had given 
 her credit for genuine impulsiveness, which seemed to him 
 as pleasing as it was uncommon ; and he had, with the moder- 
 ation expected of a man in politics, who hoped some day to , 
 assist in the government of the nation, by accepting a junior 
 lordship, admired her. But was it all pretence? Was she 
 paying court to him merely to annoy her husband? Had 
 her enthusiasm about the shooting of red deer been prompted 
 by a wish to attract a certain pair of eyes at the other side 
 of the table? Lord Arthur began to sneer at himself for 
 having been duped. He ought to have known. Women 
 were as much women in a Hebridean Island as in Bayswater. 
 He began to treat Sheila with a little more coolness, while 
 she became more and more preoccupied with the couple 
 across the table, and sometimes was innocently rude in an- 
 swering his questions somewhat at random. 
 
 When the ladies were going into the drawing-room, Mrs. 
 Lorraine put her hand within Sheila's arm and led her to the 
 entrance to the conservatory. " I hope we shall be friends," 
 she said. 
 
 " I hope so," said Sheila, not very warmly. 
 
 "Until you get better acquainted with your husband's 
 friends you will feel rather lonely at being left as at present, 
 I suppose.'' 
 
 " A little," said Sheila. 
 
 " Is is a silly thing altogether. If men smoked after dinner 
 I could understand it. But they merely sit, looking at wine 
 they don't drink, talking a few commonplaces and yawning." 
 
 " Why do they do it, then?" said Sheila. 
 
 "They don't do it everywhere. But here we keep to the 
 manners and customs of the ancients." 
 
 " What do you know about the manners of the ancients?" 
 said Mrs. Kavanagh, tapping her daughter's shoulder as she 
 passed with a sheet of music. 
 
 " I have studied them frequently, mamma," said the 
 daughter with composure, "in the monkey-house at the 
 Zoological Gardens. 
 
190 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 The mamma smiled, and passed on to place the music on 
 the piano. Sheila did not understand what her companion 
 had said; and indeed Mrs. Lorraine immediately turned, 
 with the same calm, fair face and fearless eyes, to ask Sheila 
 whether she would not, by and by, sing one of those North- 
 ern songs of which Mr. Lavender had told her. 
 
 A tall girl with her back hair tied in a knot and her cos- 
 tume copied from a well-known pre-Raphaelite drawing, sat 
 down to the piano and sang a mystic song of the present 
 day, in which the moon, the stars and other natural objects 
 behaved strangely, and were somehow mixed up with the 
 appeal of a maiden who demanded that her dead lover should 
 be reclaimed from the sea. 
 
 " Do you ever go down to your husband's studio ?" said 
 Mrs. Lorraine. 
 
 She glanced toward the lady at the piano. 
 
 " Oh, you may talk," said Mrs. Lorraine, with the least 
 expression of contempt in her gray eyes. " She is singing 
 to gratify herself, not us." 
 
 "Yes, I sometimes go down, '"'said Sheila in as low a voice 
 as she could manage without falling into a whisper, " and it 
 is such a dismal place. It is very hard on him to have to 
 work in a big bare room like that, with the windows half 
 blinded. But sometimes I think Frank would rather have 
 me out of the way." 
 
 " And what would he do if both of us were to pay him a 
 visit?" said Mrs. Lorraine. "I should so like to seethe 
 studio! Won't you call for me some day and take me with 
 you ?" 
 
 Take her with her, indeed ! Sheila began to wonder that 
 she did not propose to go alone. Fortunately, there was no 
 need to answer the question, for at this moment the song 
 came to an end, and there was a general movement ana mur- 
 mur of gratitude. 
 
 " Thank you," said Mrs. Lorraine to the lady who had 
 sung the song, and was now returning to the photographs 
 she had left, " thank you very much. I knew seme one 
 would instantly isk you to sing that song; it is the mosi 
 charming of all your songs, I think, and how well it suits 
 your voice, too!" 
 
 Then she turned to Sheila again: " How did you like Lortf 
 Arthur Redburn?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. I pi. 
 
 " I think he is a very good young man." 
 
 "Young men are never good, but they may be very 
 amiable," said Mrs. Lorraine, not perceiving that Sheila had 
 blundered on a wrong adjective, and that she had really 
 meant that she thought him honest and pleasant. 
 , "You did not speak at all, I think, to your neighbor on 
 the right; that was wise of you. He is a most insufferable! 
 person, but mamma bears with him for the sake of his daugh-i 
 ter, who sang just now. He is too rich. And he smiles 
 blandly, and takes a sort of after-dinner view of things, as if 
 he coincided with the arrangements of Providence. Don't 
 you take coffee ? Tea, then. I have met your aunt I mean 
 Mr. Lavender's aunt; such a dear old lady she is." 
 
 " I don't like her," said Sheila. 
 
 " Oh, don't you really ?" 
 
 " Not at present, but I shall try to like her." 
 
 "Well, 1 ' said Mrs. Lorraine, calmly, "you know she has 
 her peculiarities. I wish she wouldn't talk so much about 
 Marcus Antoninus and doses of medicine. I fancy I smell 
 calomel when she comes near. I suppose if she were in a 
 pantomime, they'd dress her up as a phial, tie a string around 
 her neck and label her ' POISON.' Dear me, how languid 
 one gets in this climate ! Let us sit down. I wish I was as 
 strong as mamma." 
 
 They sat down together, and Mrs. Lorraine evidently ex- 
 pected to be petted and made much of by her new compan- 
 ion. She gave herself pretty little airs and graces, and said 
 no more cutting things about anybody. And Sheila some- 
 how found herself being drawn to the girl, so that she could 
 scarcely help taking her hand, and saying how sorry she was 
 to see her so pale and fine and delicate. The hand, too, was 
 so small that the tiny white fingers seemed scarcely bigger 
 than the claws of a bird. Was not that slender waist, to which 
 some little attention was called by a belt of bold blue, just. 
 a little too slender for health, although the bust and shoulders 
 were exquisitely and finely proportioned ? 
 
 " We were at the Academy all the morning, and mamma is 
 not a bit tired. Why has not Mr. Lavender anything at the 
 Academy ? Oh, I forgot," she added, with a smile. " Of 
 course, he has been very much engaged. But now I suppose 
 he will settle down to work." 
 
 Sheila wished that this fragile-looking girl would not so 
 
ig2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 continually refer to her husband, but how was any one to 
 find fault with her when she put a little air of plaintiveness 
 into the ordinarily cold gray eyes, and looked at her smaU 
 hind as much as to say, " The fingers there are very small, 
 and even whiter than the glove that covers them. They are 
 the fingers of a child, who ought to be petted." 
 
 Then the men came in from the dining-room. Lavender 
 ,looked around to see where Sheila was perhaps with a trifle 
 of disappointment that she was not the most prominent fig- 
 ure there. Had he expected to find all the women surround- 
 ing her and admiring her, and all the men going up to pay 
 t court to her? Sheila was seated near a small table, and 
 Mrs. Lorraine was showing her something. She was just like 
 anybody else. If she was a wonderful sea-princess who had 
 come into a new world, no one seemed to observe her. The 
 only thing that distinguished her from the women around her 
 was her freshness of color, and the unusual combination of 
 black eyelashes and dark blue eyes. Lavender had arranged 
 that Sheila's first appearance in public should be at a very 
 quiet little dinner party, but even here she failed to create 
 any profound impression. She was, as he had to confess to 
 himself again, just like anybody else. 
 
 He went over to where Mrs. Lorraine was, and sat down 
 beside her. Sheila, remembering his injunctions, felt bound 
 to leave him there ; and as she rose to speak to Mrs. Kavanagh, 
 who was standing by, that lady came and begged her to sing 
 a Highland song. By this time Lavender had succeeded in 
 interesting his companion about something or other, and 
 neither of them had noticed that Sheila had gone to the 
 piano, attended by the young politician who had taken her in 
 to dinner. Nor did they interrupt their talk merely because 
 some one had played a few bars of prelude. But what was 
 this that suddenly startled Lavender to the heart, causing him 
 to look up with surprise? He had not heard the air since he 
 was in Borva, and when Sheila sang 
 
 Hark, hark ! the horn 
 
 On mountain-breezes borne, 
 
 Awake, it is morn, 
 
 Awake, Monaltrie ! 
 
 all sorts of reminiscences came rushing in upon him. How 
 often had he heard that wild story of Monaltrie's flight sung 
 out in the small chamber over the sea, with a sound of the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 193 
 
 waves outside and a scent of sea-weed coming in at the door 
 and the window ! It was from the shores of Borva that young 
 Monaltrie must have fled. It must have been in Borva that 
 his sweetheart sat in her bower and sang, the burden of all 
 her singing being, "Return, Monaltrie!" And then, as 
 Sheila sang now, making the monotonous and plaintive air 
 wild and straDge 
 
 What cries of wild despair 
 Awake the sultry air ? 
 Frenzied with anxious care, 
 She seeks Monaltrie 
 
 he heard no more of the song. He was thinking of by-gone 
 days in Borva, and of old Mackenzie living in his lonely 
 house there. When Sheila had finished singing he looked at 
 her, and it seemed to him that she was still that beautiful 
 princess whom he had wooed on the shores of the Atlantic. 
 And if those people did not see her as he saw her, ought he 
 to be disappointed because of their blindness? 
 
 But if they saw nothing mystic or wonderful about Sheila, 
 they, at all events, were considerably surprised by the strange 
 sort of music she sang. It was not of a sort commonly 
 heard in a London drawing-room. The pathos of its minor 
 chords, its abrupt intervals, startling and wild in their effect, 
 and the slowly subsiding wail in which it closed, did not much 
 resemble the ordinary drawing-room " piece." Here, at 
 least, Sheila had produced an impression; and presently 
 there was aheap of people around the piano, expressing their 
 admiration, asking questions, and begging her to continue. 
 But she rose. She would rather not sing just then. Where- 
 upon Lavender came to her and said, " Sheila, won't you 
 sing that wild one about the farewell that has the sound of 
 the pipes in it, you know?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said directly. 
 
 Lavender went back to his companion. 
 
 " She is very obedient to you," said Mrs. Lorraine, with a 
 smile. 
 
 "Yes, at present," he said; and he thought meanly of 
 himself for saying it, the moment the words were uttered : 
 
 Oh, soft be thy slumbers, by Tigh-na-linne's waters; 
 Thy iate-wake was sung by Macdiarmid's fair daughters; 
 But far in Lochaber the true heart was weeping, 
 . Whose hopes are entombed in the grave where thou'rt sleeping. 
 
lg4 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 So Sheik sang, and it seemed to the people that this ballad 
 was even more strange than its predecessor. When the song 
 was over, Sheila seemed rather anxious to get out of the 
 crowd, and, indeed, walked away into the conservatory to 
 have a look at the flowers. 
 
 Yes, Lavender had to confess to himself, Sheila was just 
 like anybody else in this drawing-room. His sea-princess 
 had produced no startling impression. He forgot that he 
 had just been teaching her the necessity of observing the 
 ways and customs of the people around her, so that she 
 might avoid singularity. 
 
 On one point, at least, she was resolved she would attend 
 to his counsels; she would not make him ridiculous by any 
 show of affection before the eyes of strangers. She did not 
 go near him the whole evening. She remained for the most 
 part in that half-conservatory, half-ante-room at the end of the 
 drawing-room ; and when any one talked to her she answered, 
 and when she was left alone she turned to the flowers. All 
 this time, however, she could observe that Lavender and 
 Mrs. Lorraine were very much engrossed in their conversa- 
 tion; that she seemed very much amused, and he at times a 
 trifle embarrassed; and that both of them had apparently 
 forgotten her existence. Mrs. Kavanagh was continually 
 coming to Sheila and trying to coax her back into the larger 
 room, but in vain. She would rather not sing any more 
 that night. She liked to look at the flowers. She was not 
 tired at all, and she had already seen those wonderful pho- 
 tographs about which everybody was talking. 
 
 "Well, Sheila, how did you enjoy yourself?" said her 
 husband, as they were driving home. 
 
 " I wish Mr. Ingram had been there," said Sheila. 
 
 " Ingram! He would nc ; have stopped in the place five 
 minutes, unless he could play the part of Diogenes and say 
 rude things to everybody all around. Were you at all 
 dull?" 
 
 "A little." 
 
 " Didn't somebody look after you?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; many persons were very kind. But but '* 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Nobody seemed to be better off than myself. They all 
 seemed to be wanting something to do; and I am sure they 
 were all very glad to come away," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE: It)5 
 
 u No, no, no, Sheila. That is only your fancy. You were 
 not much interested, that is evident; but you will get on bet- 
 ter when know more of the people. You were a stranger 
 that is what disappointed you but you will not always be a 
 stranger." 
 
 Sheila did not answer. Perhaps she contemplated, with 
 no great hope or longing, the possibility of her coming to 
 like such a method of getting through an evening. At all 
 events, she looked forward with no great pleasure to the 
 chance of her having to become friends with Mrs. Lorraine. 
 All the way home Sheila was examining her own heart to try 
 to discover why such bitter feelings should be there. Surely 
 that girl was honest; there was honesty in her eyes. She 
 had been most kind to Sheila herself. And was there not at 
 times, when she abandoned the ways and speech of a woman 
 of the world, a singular coy fascination about her that any 
 man might be excused for yielding to, even as any woman 
 might yield to it ? Sheila fought with herself, and resolved 
 that she would cast forth from her heart those harsh fancies 
 and indignant feelings that seemed to have established them- 
 selves there. She would not hate Mrs. Lorraine. 
 
 As for Lavender, what was he thinking of, now that he and 
 his young wife were driving home from their first experi- 
 ment in society? He had to confess to a certain sense of 
 failure. His dreams had not been realized. Every one who 
 had spoken to him had conveyed to him, as freely as good 
 manners would admit, their congratulations and their praises 
 of his wife. But the impressive scenes he had been forecast- 
 ing were out of the question. There was a little curiosity 
 about her on the part of those who knew her story, and that 
 was all. Sheila bore herself very well. She made no blun- 
 ders. Sha had a good presence, she sang well, and every one 
 could see that she was handsome, gentle and honest. Sure- 
 ly, he argued with himself, that ought to content the most 
 exacting. But, in spite of all argument, he was not content. 
 He did not regret that he had sacrificed his liberty in a freak 
 of romance ; he did not even regard the fact of a man in his 
 position having dared to marry a penniless girl as anything 
 very meriiorious or heroic; but he had hoped that the dra- 
 matic circumstances of the case would be duly recognized 
 by his friends, and that Sheila would be an object of interest 
 and wonder and talk in a whole series of social circles. But 
 
Ig6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 the result of his venture was different. There was only one 
 married man the more in London, and London was not dis- 
 posed to pay any particular heed to that circumstance. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 
 
 IF Frank Lavender had been told that his love for his 
 wife was in danger of waning, he would have laughed the 
 suggestion to scorn. He was as fond of her and as proud of 
 her as' ever. Who knew as well as himself the tenderness of 
 her heart, the delicate sensitiveness of her conscience, the 
 generosity of self-sacrifice she was always ready to bestow ? 
 and was he likely to become blind, so that he should fail to 
 see how fair and frank and handsome she was? He had 
 been disappointed, it is true, in his fancies about the impres- 
 sion she would produce on his friends; but what a trifle was 
 that ! The folly of those fancies was his own. For the rest, 
 he was glad that Sheila was not so different from the other 
 women whom he knew. He hit upon the profound reflec- 
 tion, as he sat alone in his studio, that a man's wife, like his 
 costume, should not be so remarkable as to attract attention. 
 The perfection of dress was that you should be unconscious 
 of its presence; might that not be so with marriage ? After 
 all, it was better he had not bound himself to lug about a lion 
 whenever he visited people's houses. 
 
 Still, there was something. He found himself a good deal 
 alone. Sheila did not seem to care much for going into 
 society; and, although he did not much like the notion of 
 going by himself, nevertheless onehad certain duties towards 
 one's friends to perform. She did not even care to go down 
 to the Park of a forenoon. She always professed her readi- 
 ness to go, but he fancied it was a trifle tiresome for her; 
 and so, when there was nothing particular going on in the 
 studio, he would walk down through Kensington Gardens 
 himself, and have a chat with some friends, followed gener- 
 ally by luncheon with this or the other party of them. Sheila 
 had been taught that she ought not to come so frequently to 
 that studio. Bras would not lie quiet. Moreover, if ddtilers 
 ^r other strangers should come in, would they not take her 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. Ip7 
 
 for a model ? So Sheila stayed at home; and Mr Lavender, 
 after having dressed with care in the morning with very 
 singular care, indeed, considering that he was going to his 
 work used to go down to his studio to smoke a cigarette. 
 The chances were that he was not in the humor for working. 
 He would sit down in an easy-chair and kick his heels on the 
 floor for a time, watching, perhaps, the sunlight come in 
 through the upper part of the windows and paint yellow 
 squares on the opposite wall, Then he would go out, and 
 lock the dcor behind him, leaving no message whatever for 
 those crowds of importunate dealers, who, as Sheila fancied, 
 were besieging him with offers in one hand and purses of 
 gold in the other. 
 
 One morning, after she had been in-doors tor two or tnree 
 days, and had grown hopelessly tired of the monotony of 
 watching that sunlit square, she was filled with an unconquer- 
 able longing to go away, for however brief a space, from the 
 sight of houses. The morning was sweet, and clear, and 
 bright, white clouds were slowly crossing a fair blue sky, and 
 a fresh and cool breeze was blowing in at the open French 
 windows. 
 
 " Bras," she said, going down stairs and out into the small 
 garden, "we are going into the country." 
 
 The great deerhound seemed to know, and rose and came 
 to her with great gravity, while she clasped on the leash. He 
 was no frisky animal to show his delight by yelping and 
 gamboling, but he laid his long nose in her hand, and slowly 
 wagged the down-drooping curve of his shaggy tail; and then 
 he placidly walked by her side up into the hall, where he 
 stood awaiting her. 
 
 She would go along and beg of her husband to leave his 
 work for a day, and go with her for a walk down to Rich- 
 ,mond Park. She had often heard Mr. Ingram speak of walk- 
 'ing down, and she remembered that much of the road was 
 pretty. Why should not her husband have one holiday ? 
 
 " It is such a shame," she had said to him that morning as 
 he left, "that you will be going into that gloomy place, with 
 its bare walls and chairs, and the windows so that you cannot 
 see out of them!" 
 
 " I must get some work done somehow, Sheila," he said, 
 although he did not tell her that he had not finished a pic- 
 ture since his marriage. 
 
 "I wish I could do some of it for you," she said. 
 
198 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " You! All the work you're good for is catching nsn and 
 feeding ducks and planting things in gardens. Why don't 
 you come down and feed the ducks in the Serpentine ?" 
 
 " I should like to do that," she answered. " I will go any 
 day with you." 
 
 " Well," he said, " you see, I don't know until I get along 
 to the studio whether I can get away for the forenoon; and 
 then if I were to come back here, you would have little or 
 no time to dress. Good-bye, Sheila." 
 
 "Good-bye," she said to him; giving up the Serpentine 
 without much regret. 
 
 But the forenoon had turned out so delightful that she 
 thought she would go along to the studio, and hale him out 
 of that gaunt and dingy apartment. She should take him 
 away from town; therefore, she might put on that rough, blue 
 dress in which she used to go boating in Loch Roag. She 
 had lately smartened it up a bit with some white braid, and 
 she hoped he would approve. 
 
 Did the big hound know the dress ? He rubbed his head 
 against her arm and hand when she came down, and looked 
 up and whined almost inaudibly. 
 
 " You are going out, Bras, and you must be a good dog 
 and not try to go after the deer. Then I will send a very 
 good story of you to Mairi ; and v:hen she comes to London 
 after the harvest is over, she will bring you a present from 
 the Lewis, and you will be very proud." 
 
 She went out into the square, and was, perhaps, a little 
 glad to get away from it, as she was not sure of the blue dress 
 and the small hat with its sea-gull's feather being precisely 
 the costume which she ought to wear. When she got into the 
 Uxbridge road she breathed more freely, and in the lightness 
 of her heart she continued the conversation with Bras, giving 
 that attentive animal a vast amount of information, partly in 
 English, partly in Gaelic, which he answered only by a low 
 whine or a shake of his shaggy head. 
 
 But these confidences were suddenly interrupted. She 
 had got down to Addison Terrace, and was contentedly 
 looking at the trees and chatting to the dog, when by acci- 
 dent her eyes happened to light on a brougham that was 
 driving past. In it she beheld them both clearly for a brief 
 second were her husband and Mrs. Lorraine so engaged in 
 conversation that neither of them saw her. Sheila stood o 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. Ig$ 
 
 the pavement for a couple of minutes absolutely bewl dered. 
 All sorts of wild fancies and recollections came crowding in up- 
 on her reasons why her husband was unwilling that she should 
 visit his studio, why Mrs. Lorraine never called on her, and 
 so forth, and so forth. She did not know what to think for 
 a time; but presently all this tumult was stilled, and she had 
 resolved her doubts and made up her mind as to what she 
 should do. She would not suspect her husband thztt was 
 the one sweet security to which she clung. He had made 
 use of no duplicity; if there were duplicity in the case at all 
 he could not be the author of it. The reasons for his having 
 of late left her. so much alone were the true reasons. And if 
 this Mrs. Lorraine should amuse him and interest him, who 
 ought to grudge him this break in the monotony of his 
 work? Sheila knew that she herself disliked going to those 
 fashionable gatherings to which Mrs. Lorraine went, and to 
 which Lavender had been accustomed to go before he was 
 married. How could she expect him to give up all his old 
 habits and pleasures for her sake? She would be more 
 generous. It was her own fault that she was not a better 
 companion for him, then, to think hardly of him because he 
 went to the Park with a friend instead of going alone? 
 
 Yet there was a great bitterness and grief in her heart as 
 she turned and walked on. She spoke no more to the deer- 
 hound by her side. There seemed to be less sunlight in the 
 air, and the people and carriages passing were hardly so busy 
 and cheerful and interesting as they had been. But all .the 
 same, she would go to Richmond Park, and by herself; for 
 what was the use in calling in at the studio? and how could 
 she go back home and sit in the house, knowing that her hus- 
 band was away at some flower-show or morning concert, or 
 some such thing, with that young American lady? 
 
 She knew no other road to Richmond than that by which 
 they had driven shortly after her arrival in London; and so 
 it was that she went down and over Hammersmith Bridge, 
 and around by Mortlake, and so on by East Sheen. The 
 road seemed terribly long. She was an excellent walker, and 
 in ordinary circumstances would have done the distance 
 without fatigue; but when at length she saw the gates of the 
 Park before her, she was at once exceedingly tired and al- 
 most faint from hunger. Here was the hotel in which they 
 had dined; should she enter? The place seemed very grand 
 
*00 A PRlNCfiSS OF THULE. 
 
 and forbidding; she had scarcely even looked at it as she 
 went up the steps with her husband by her side. However, 
 she would venture, and accordingly she went up into the ve- 
 tible, looking rather timidly about. A young gentleman, ap- 
 parently not a waiter, approached her and seemed to wait for 
 her to speak. It was a terrible moment. What was she to 
 ask for ? and could she ask it of this young man ? Fortunately, 
 he spoke first, and asked her if she wished to go into the cof- 
 fee-room, and if she expected any one. 
 
 " No, I do not expect any one," she said; and she knew 
 that he would perceive the peculiarity of her accent ; " but if 
 you will be kind enough to tell me where I may have a bis- 
 cuit" 
 
 It occurred to her that to go into the Star and Garter for 
 a biscuit was absurd; and she added, wildly, " or anything 
 to eat." 
 
 The young man obviously regarded her with some sur- 
 prise, but was very courteous, and showed her into the coffee- 
 room and called a waiter to her. Moreover, he gave permis- 
 sion for Bras to be admitted into the room, Sheila promising 
 that he would lie under the table a:id not budge an inch. 
 Then she looked around. There were only three persons in 
 the room one, an old lady seated by herself in a far corner, 
 the other two being -a couple of young folks too much en- 
 grossed with each other to mind any one else. She began to 
 feel more at home. The waiter suggested various things for 
 lunch, and she made her choice of something cold. Then 
 she mustered up courage to ask for a glass of sherry. How 
 she would have enjoyed all this as a story to tell to her hus- 
 band but for that incident of the morning! She would have 1 
 gloried in her outward bravery, and made him smile with a 
 description of her inward terror. She would have written 
 about it to the old man in Borva, and bid him consider how 
 she had been transformed, and what strange scenes Bras was 
 now witnessing. 
 
 But all that was over. She felt as if she could no longer 
 ask her husband to be amused by her childish experiences; 
 and as for writing to her father, she dared not write to 
 him in her present mood. Perhaps some happier time 
 would come. Sheila paid her bill. She had heard her husband 
 and Mr. Ingram talking about tipping waiters, and knew 
 that she ought to give something to the man who had at- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 261 
 
 tended on her. But how much? He was a very august- 
 looking person, with formally-cut whiskers and a severe ex- 
 pression of face. When he had brought back the change 
 to her she timidly selected a half-crown and offered it to 
 him. There was a little glance of surprise ; she feared she 
 had not given him enough. Then he said "Thank you!" 
 in a vague and distant fashion, and she knew that she had 
 mot given him enough. But it was too late. Bras was 
 summoned from under the table, and again she went out 
 into the fresh air. 
 
 "Oh, my good dog!'' she said to him, as they together 
 walked up to the gates and into the Park, " this is a very ex- 
 travagant country. You have to pay half-a-crown to a 
 servant for bringing you a piece of cold pie, and then he 
 looks as if he were not paid enough. And Duncan, who will do 
 everything about the house, and will give us all our dinners, 
 it's only a pound a week he will get, and Scarlett has to be 
 kept out of that. And wouldn't you like to see poor old 
 Scarlett again ?" 
 
 Bras whined, as if he understood every word. 
 
 " I suppose now she is hanging out the washing on the 
 gooseberry bushes, and you know the song she always used 
 to sing then ? Don't you know that Scarlett carried me 
 about long before you were born, for you are a mere infant 
 compared with me ? And she used to sing to me : 
 
 " Ged* bheirte mi' bho'n bhas so, 
 Mho Sheila bheag 6g !" 
 
 And that is what she is singing just n^v in the garden; 
 and Mairi she is bringing the things out of the washing 
 house. Papa is over in Stornoway this morning, arranging 
 his accounts with the people there; and perhaps he is down 
 at the quay, looking at the Clansman, and wondering when 
 sne is to bring me into the harbor. The castle is all shut up, 
 you know, with cloths ov^r all the wonderful things, and the 
 curtains all down, and most of the shutters shut. Do you 
 think papa has got my letter in his pocket, and does he read 
 it over and over again, as I read all his letters to me over 
 and over again? A.h-h! You bad dog!" 
 
 Bras had forgotten to listen to his mistress in the excite- 
 ment of seeing in the distance a large herd of deer under cer- 
 tain trees. She felt by the leash that he was trembling in 
 
2Q2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 every limb with expectation, and straining hard on the collar 
 Again and again she admonished him in vain, until she had 
 at last to drag him away down the hill, putting a small plan- 
 tation between him and the herd. Here she found a large ) 
 umbrageous chestnut tree, with a wooden seat around its 
 trunk, and so she sat down in the green twilight of the 
 Jeaves, while Bras came and put his head in her lap. Out 
 ibeyond the shadow of the tree all the world lay bathed in 
 sunlight, and a great silence brooded over the long undula- 
 tions of the Park, where not a human being was within 
 sight. How strange it was, she fell to thinking, that within 
 a short distance there were millions of men and women, 
 while here she was absolutely alone ? Did they not care, 
 then, for the sunlight and the trees and the sweet air ? Were 
 they so wrapped up in those social observances that seemed 
 to her so barren of interest ? 
 
 "They have a beautiful country here," she said, talk- 
 ing in a rambling and wistful way to Bras, and scarcely 
 noticing the eager light in his eyes, as if he were trying to 
 understand. " They have no rain and no fog; almost always 
 blue skies, 'and the clouds high up and far away. And the 
 beautiful trees they have, too ! you never saw anything like 
 that in the Lewis, not even at Stornoway. And the people 
 are so rich and beautiful in their dress, and all the day they 
 have only to think how to enjoy themselves and what new 
 amusements is for the morrow. But I think they are tired 
 of having nothing to do ; or, perhaps, you know, they are 
 tired because they have nothing to fight against no hard 
 weather and hunger and poverty. They do not care for each 
 other as they would if they were working on the same farm, 
 and trying to save up for the Winter; or if they were going 
 out to the fishing, and very glad to come home again from 
 Caithness to find all the old people very well and the young 
 ones ready for a dance and a dram, and much joy and laugh- 
 ing and telling of stories. It is a very great difference there 
 will be in the people very great." 
 
 Bras whined: perhaps he understood her better now that 
 she had involuntarily fallen into something of her old accent 
 and habit of speech. 
 
 "Wouldn't you like, Bras, to be up in Borva again only 
 for this afternoon ? All the people would come running out; 
 and it is little Ailasa, she would put her arms around your 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2Q ~ 
 
 neck; and old Peter McTavish, he would hear who it was, and 
 come out of his house groping by the wall, and he would 
 say, 'Pless me! iss it you, Miss Sheila, indeed and mirover? 
 It iss a long time since you hef left the Lewis.' Yes it is a 
 long time a long time; and I will be almost forgotten what 
 it is like sometimes when I try to think of it. Here it is al- 
 ways the same the same houses, the same soft air, the same 
 still sunlight, the same things to do and places to see no 
 storms shaking the windows or ships running into the harbor, 
 and you cannot go down to the shore to see what has hap- 
 pened, or up the hill to look how the sea is raging. But it is 
 one day we will go back to the Lewis oh, yes, we will go 
 back to the Lewis!" 
 
 She rose and looked wistfully around her, and then turned 
 with a sigh to make her way to the gates. It was with no 
 especial sort of gladness that she thought of returning home. 
 Here, in the great stillness, she had been able to dream of 
 the far island which she knew, and to fancy herself for a few 
 minutes there; now she was going back to the dreary mon- 
 otony of her life in that square, and to the doubts and anxie- 
 ties which had been suggested to her in the morning. The 
 world she was about to enter once more seemed so much less 
 homely, so much less full of interest and purpose, than that 
 other and distant world she had been wistfully regarding for 
 a time. The people around her had neither the joys nor the 
 sorrows with which she had been taught to sympathize. 
 Their cares seemed to her to be exaggeratioa of trifles she 
 could feel no pity for them; their satisfaction was derived 
 from sources unintelligible to her. And the social atmos- 
 phere around her seemed still and close and suffocating; so 
 that she was like to cry out at times for one breath of God's 
 clear wind for a shaft of lightning even to cut through the 
 sultry and drowsy sameness of her life. 
 
 She had almost forgotten the dog by her side. While "sit- 
 ting under the chestnut she had carelessly and loosely wound 
 the leash around his neck in the semblance of a collar, and 
 when she arose and came away she let the dog walk by her 
 side without undoing the leash and taking proper charge of 
 him. She was thinking of far other things, indeed, when 
 she was startled by some one calling to her, "Look out, 4 Miss, 
 or you'll have your dog shot !'' 
 
 She turned and caught a glimpse of what sent a thrill of 
 
204 A PRINCESS OF TIIULE. 
 
 terror to her heart. Bras had sneaked off from her side 
 had trotted lightly over the breckans, and was now in full 
 chase of a herd of deer which were flying down the slope on 
 the other side of the plantation. He rushed now at one, now 
 at another, the very number of chances presented to him 
 proving the safety of the whole herd. But as Sheila, with a 
 <swift flight that would have astonished most town-bred girls, 
 /followed the wild chase and came to the crest of the slope, 
 she could see that the hound had at length singled out a par- 
 ticular deer a fine buck, with handsome horns, that was 
 making straight for the foot of the valley. The herd, that 
 had been much scattered, were now drawing together again, 
 though checking nothing of their speed; but this single buck 
 had been driven from his companions, and was doing his 
 utmost to escape from the fangs of the powerful animal be- 
 hind him. 
 
 What could she do but run wildly and breathlessly on ? 
 The dog was now far beyond the reach of her voice. She 
 had no whistle. All sorts of fearful anticipations rushed in 
 on her mind, the most prominent of all being the anger of 
 her father if Bras were shot. How could she go back to 
 Borva with such a tale? and how could she live in London 
 without this companion who had come with her from the 
 far North ? Then what terrible things were connected with 
 the killing of deer in a royal park ! She remembered vaguely 
 what Mr. Ingram and her husband had been saying; and 
 while these things had been crowding in upon her she felt 
 her strength beginning to fail, while both the dog and the 
 deer had disappeared altogether from sight. 
 
 Strange, too, that in the midst of her fatigue and fright, 
 while she still managed to struggle on with a sharp pain at her 
 heart and a sort of mist before her eyes, she had a vague con- 
 sciousness that her husband would be deeply vexed, not by 
 the conduct or the fate of Bras, but by her being the heroine 
 of so mad an adventure. She knew that he wished her to be 
 serious and subdued and proper, like the ladies whom she 
 met, while an evil destiny seemed to dog her footsteps and 
 precipitate her into all sorts of erratic mishaps and " scenes." 
 However, this adventure was likely soon to have an' end. She 
 could go no further. Whatever had become of Bras, it was 
 in vain for her to think of pursuing him. When she at length 
 reached a broad and smooth road leading through the pasture, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THUL. 205 
 
 she could only stand still and press her two hands over her 
 heart, while her head seemed giddy, and she did not see two 
 men who had been standing on the road close by, until they 
 came up and addressed her. 
 
 Then she started and looked around, finding before her 
 two men who were apparently laborers of some sort, one of 
 them having a shovel over his shoulder. 
 
 "Beg your pardon, miss, but wur that your dawg?" 
 
 "Yes,'' she said, eagerly. " Could you get him? Did you 
 see him go by ? Do you know where he is ? " 
 
 "Me and my mate saw him go by, sure enough; but as 
 for getting him why the keepers '11 have shot him by this 
 time." 
 
 " Oh, no?" cried Sheila, almost in tears, "they must not 
 shoot him. It was my fault. I will pay them for all the 
 harm he has done. Can't you tell me which way he will go 
 past?" 
 
 "I don't think, miss," said the spokesman, quite respect- 
 fully, "as you can go much furder. If you would sit down 
 and rest yourself, and keep an eye on this 'ere shovel, me and 
 my mate will have a hunt arter the dawg." 
 
 Sheila not only accepted the offer gratefully, but prom- 
 ised to give them all the money she had if only they would 
 bring back the dog unharmed. She made this offer in con- 
 sequence of some talk between her husband and her father 
 which she had overheard. Lavender was speaking of the 
 civility he had frequently experienced at the hands of Scotch 
 shepherds, and of the independence with which they refused to 
 accept any compensation even for services which cost them 
 a good deal of time and trouble. Perhaps it was to please 
 Sheila's father, but, at any rate, the picture the young man 
 drew of the venality and the cupidity of the folks in the 
 South was a desperately dark one. Ask the name of a vil- 
 lage, have your stick picked up for you from the pavement, 
 get into acab or get out of it, and directly there wasatouch 
 of the cap and an unspoken request for coppers. Then, as 
 the services rendered rose in importance, so did the fees 
 to waiters, to coachmen, to gamekeepers. The^e things and 
 many more sank into Sheila's heart. She heard and believed, 
 and came down to the South with the notion that every 
 man and woman who did you the least service expected to 
 be paid handsomely for it. What, therefore, could she give 
 
200 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 those two men if they brought back her deerhcund but all 
 the money she had ? 
 
 It was a hard thing to wait here in the greatest doubt and 
 uncertainty while the afternoon was visibly waning. Shj ber 
 gan to grow afraid. Perhaps the men had stolen the dog $ 
 and left her with this shovel as a blind. Her husband must 
 have come home, and would be astonished and perplexed by 
 her absence. Surely, he would have the sense to din? by 
 himself, instead of waiting for her ; and she reflected with 
 some glimpse of satisfaction that she had left everything 
 connected with dinner properly arranged, so that he should 
 have nothing to grumble at. 
 
 "Surely," she said to herself as she sat there, watching the 
 light on the grass and the trees getting more and more yel- 
 low "surely I am very wicked or very wretched to think 
 of his grumbling in any case. If he grumbles, it is because I 
 will attend too much to the affairs of the house, and not 
 amuse myself enough. He is very good to me, and I have 
 no right to think of his grumbling. And I wish I cared to 
 amuse myself more to be more of a companion tc him; but 
 it is so difficult among all those people." 
 
 The revery was interrupted by the sound of footsteps ou 
 the grass behind, and she turned quickly to find the two men 
 approaching her, one of them leading the captive Bras by 
 the leash. Sheila sprang to her feet with a great gladness. 
 She did not care even to accuse the culprit, whose conscious- 
 ness of guilt was evident in his look and in the droop of his 
 tail. Bras did not once turn his eyes to his mistress. He 
 hung down his head, while he panted rapidly, and she fancied 
 she saw some smearing of blood on his tongue and on the 
 side of his jaw. Her fears on this head were speedily con- 
 firmed. 
 
 " I think, miss, as you'd better take him out o' the Park as 
 soon as may be, for he's got a deer killed close by the Robin 
 Hood Gate, in the trees there; and if the keepers happen on 
 it afore you leave the Park, you'll get into trouble." 
 
 " Oh, thank you! " said Sheila, retaining her composure 
 bravely, but with a terrible sinking of the heart, " and how 
 can I get to the nearest railway station ? " 
 
 " You're going to London, miss ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, I suppose the. nearest is Richmond, but it would 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2O? 
 
 be quieter for you don't you see, miss if you was to go 
 along to the Roehampton Gate and go to Barnes." 
 
 " Will you show me the gate? " said Sheila, choosing the 
 quieter route at once. 
 
 But the men themselves did not at all like the look of ac- 
 companying her and this dog through the Park. Had they 
 not already condoned a felony, or done something equally 
 dreadful, in handing to her a dog that had been found keep- 
 ing watch and ward over a slain buck? They showed her 
 the road to the Roehampton Gate, and then they paused be- 
 fore continuing on their journey. 
 
 The pause meant money. Sheila took out her purse. 
 There were three sovereigns and some silver in it, and the 
 entire sum, in fulfillment of her promise, she held out to 
 him who had so far conducted the negotiations. 
 
 Both men looked frightened. It was quite clear that 
 either good feeling or some indefinite fear of being implica- 
 cated in the killing of che deer caused them to regard this 
 big bribe as something they could not meddle with; and at 
 length, after a pause of a second or two, the spokesman said 
 with great hesitation, " Well, miss, you kept your word, but 
 me and my mate well, if so be as it's the same to you 'd 
 rather have summut to drink your health." 
 
 " Do you think it is too much ?" 
 
 The man looked at his neighbor, who nodded. 
 
 " It was only for ketchin' of a dawg, miss, don't you see ?" 
 he remarked slowly, as if to impress upon her that they had 
 had nothing to do with the deer. 
 
 " Will you take this, then?" and she offered them half a 
 crown each. 
 
 Their faces lightened considerably; they took the money, 
 and with a formal expression of thanks moved off, but not 
 before they had taken a glance around to see that no one 
 had been a witness of this interview. 
 
 And so Sheila had to walk away by herself, knowing that 
 she had been guilty of a dreadful offence, and that at any 
 moment she might be arrested by the officers of the law. 
 What would the old King of Borva say if he saw his only 
 daughter in the hands of two policemen ? and would not all 
 Mr v Lavender's fastidious and talkative and wondering 
 friends pass about the newspaper report of her trial and 
 conviction ? A man was approaching her. As he drew nea* 
 

 PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 her heart failed her, for might not this be the mysterious 
 George Ranger himself, about whom her husband and Mr. 
 Ingram had been talking? Should she drop on her knees at 
 once and confess her sins, and beg him to let her off? If 
 Duncan were with her, or Mairi, or even old Scarlett Mac- 
 donald, she would not have cared so much, but 'it seemed 
 so terrible to meet this man alone. 
 
 However, as he drew near he did not seem a fierce person.) 
 He was an old gentleman, with voluminous white hair, who was 
 dressed all in black, and carried an umbrella on this warm 
 and bright afternoon. He regarded her and the dog in a 
 distant and contemplative fashion, as though he would prob- 
 ably try to remember some time after that he had really seen 
 them; and then he passed on. Sheila began to breathe more 
 freely. Moreover, here was the gate, and once she was in 
 the high road, who could say anything to her? Tired as she 
 was, she still walked rapidly on; and, in due time, having 
 had to ask the way once or twice, she found herself at Barnes 
 Station. 
 
 By-and-by the train came in; Bras was committed to the 
 care of the guard, and she found herself alone in a railway 
 carriage for the first time in her life. Her husband had told 
 her that whenever she felt uncertain of her whereabouts, if in 
 the country, she was to ask for the nearest station and get a 
 train to London; if in town she was to get into a cab and 
 give the driver her address. And, indeed, Sheila had been 
 so much a<;itated and perplexed during this afternoon that 
 she acted in a sort of mechanical fashion, and really escaped 
 the nervousness which otherwise would have attended 
 the novel experience of purchasing a ticket and arranging 
 about the carriage of a dog in the break-van. Even now, 
 when she found herself traveling alone, and shortly to arrive 
 at a part of London she had never seen, her crowding 
 thoughts and fancies were not about her own situation, but 
 about the reception she would receive from her husband. 
 Would he be vexed with her ? Or pity her ? Had he called 
 with Mrs. Lorraine to take her somewhere, and found her 
 gone? Had he brought home some bachelor friends to din- 
 ner, and been chagrined to find her not in the house? 
 
 It was getting dusk when the slow four- wheeler approached 
 Sheila's home. The hour for dinner had long gone by. 
 Perhaps her husband had gone away somewhere looking for 
 her, and she would find the house p^pty. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 209 
 
 But Frank Lavender came to meet his wife in the hall, and 
 said, " Where have you been?" 
 
 She could not tell whether there was anger or kindness in 
 his voice, and she could not well see his face. She took his 
 hand and went into the dining-room, which was also dusk, 
 and standing there told him all her story. 
 
 " This is too bad, Sheila," he said, in atone of deep vexa- 
 tion. " By Jove! I'll go and thrash the dog within an inch 
 of his life." 
 
 " No," she said, drawing herself up; and for one brief sec- 
 ond could he have but seen her face there v/as a touch of 
 old Mackenzie's pride and firmness about the ordinarily 
 gentle lips. It was but for a second. She cast down her eyes 
 and said, meekly, "I hope you won't do that, Frank. The 
 dog is not to blame. It was my fault.'' 
 
 "Well, really, Sheila," he said, " you are very thoughtless. 
 I wish you would take some little trouble to act as other 
 women act, instead of constantly putting yourself and me in 
 the most awkward positions. Suppose I had brought any one 
 home to dinner, now? And what am I to say to Ingram? 
 for, of course, I went direct to his lodgings when I discov- 
 ered that you were nowhere to be found. I fancied some 
 mad freak had taken you there; and I should not have been 
 surprised. Indeed, I don't think I should be surprised at 
 anything you do. Do you know who was in the hall when I 
 came in this afternoon ?" 
 
 " No," said Sheila. 
 
 " Why, that wretched old hag who keeps the fruit-stall. 
 And it seems you gave her and all her family tea and cake 
 in the kitchen last night." 
 
 " She is a poor woman," said Sheila, humbly. 
 
 " A poor old woman!" he said, impatiently. " I have no 
 doubt she is a lying old thief, who would take an umbrella or 
 a coat, if only she could get the chance. It is really too 
 bad, Sheila, you having all those persons about you, and de- 
 meaning yourself by attending on them. What must the 
 servants think of you ?" 
 
 " I do not heed what any servants think of me," she said. 
 
 She was now standing erect, with her face quite calm. 
 
 "Apparently not," he said, "or you would not go and 
 make yourself ridiculous before them.'' 
 
 Sheila hesitated for a moment, as if she did not understand j 
 
*10 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 and then she said, as- calmly as before, but with a touch of 
 indignation about the proud and beautiful lips, "And if I 
 make myself ridiculous by attending to poor people, it is net 
 my husband who should tell me so." 
 
 She turned and walked out, and he was too surprised to 
 follow her. She went up stairs to her own room, locked 
 herself in and threw herself on the bed. And then all the 
 bitterness of her heart rose up as if in a flood not against 
 him, but against the country in which he lived, and Uie so- 
 ciety which had contaminated him, and the wr.ys and habits 
 which seemed to create a barrier between herself and him, 
 so that she was a stranger to him, and incapable of becoming 
 anything else. It was a crime that she should interest herself 
 in the unfortunate creatures round about her, that she should 
 talk to them as if they were not human beings like herself, and 
 have a great sympathy with their small hopes and aims ; but 
 she would not have been led into such a crime if she had cul- 
 tivated from her infancy upward a consistent self-indulgence, 
 making herself the centre of a world of mean desires and 
 petty gratifications. And then she thought of the old and 
 beautiful days up in the Lewis, where the young English 
 stranger seemed to approve of her simple ways and her char- 
 itable work, and where she was taught to believe that in order 
 to please him she had only to continue to be what si e was 
 then. 
 
 There was no great gulf of time between that perio 1 and 
 this; but what had not happened in the interval? Sb j had 
 not changed at least she hoped she had not changed. She 
 loved her husband with her whole heart and soul; hei devo- 
 tion was as true and constant as she herself could have i ished 
 it to be when she dreamed of the duties of a wife in th days 
 of her maidenhood. But all around her was changed. She 
 had no longer the old freedom the old delight in Lving 
 from day to day the active work, and the enjoyment of 
 seeing where she could help and how she could help the peo- 
 ple around her. When, as if by thesame sort of instinct that 
 makes a wild animal retain in captivity the habits which were 
 necessary to its existence when it lived in freedom, she began 
 to find out the circumstances of such unfortunate people as 
 were in her neighborhood, some little solace was given to 
 her; but these people were not friends to her, as the poor 
 folk of Borvapost had been. She knew, too, that her hus- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 21 T 
 
 band would be displeased if he found her talking with a wash- 
 erwoman over her family matters, or even advising one of 
 her own servants about the disposal of her wages; so that, 
 while she concealed nothing from him, these things neverthe- 
 less had to be done exclusively in his absence. And was she in 
 so doing really making herself ridiculous ? Did he con- 
 sider her ridiculous? Or was it not merely the false and 
 enervating influences of the indolent society in which he 
 lived that had poisoned his mind, and drawn him away from 
 her as though into another world ? 
 
 Alas! if he were in this other world, was not she quite 
 alone? What companionship was there possible between 
 her and the people in this new and strange land into which 
 she had ventured ? As she lay on the bed, with her head 
 hidden down in the darkness, the pathetic wail of the cap- 
 tive Jews seemed to come and go through the bitterness of 
 her thoughts, like some mournful refrain: " By the rivers of 
 Babylon, there we sat down; yea, we wept when we remem- 
 bered Zion." She almost heard the words, and the reply 
 that rose up in her heart was a great yearning to go back to 
 her own land, so that her eyes were filled with tears in think- 
 ing of it, and she lay and sobbed there in the dusk. Would 
 not the old man living all by himself in that lonely island be 
 glad to see his little girl back again in the old house ? And 
 she would sing to him as she used to sing, not as she had been 
 singing to those people whom her husband knew. "For 
 there they that carried us away captive required of us a 
 song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, 
 Sing us one of the songs of Zion." And she had sung in the 
 strange land, among the strange people, with her heart break- 
 ing, with thoughts of the sea and the hills, and the rude and 
 sweet and simple ways of the old by-gone life she had left 
 behind her. 
 
 "Sheila!" 
 
 She thought it was her father calling to her, and she rose 
 with a cry of joy. For one wild moment she fancied that 
 outside were all the people she knew Duncan and Scarlett 
 and Mairi and that she was once more at home, with the 
 sea all around her, and the salt, cold air. 
 
 " Sheila, I want to speak to you." 
 
 It was her husband. She went to the door, opened it, and 
 stood there penitent and with downcast face. 
 
212 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Come, you must not be silly," he said, with some kind- 
 ness in his voice. "You have had no dinner. You must 
 be hungry." 
 
 "I do not care for any; there is no use troubling the ser- 
 vants when I would rather lie down, "she said. 
 
 "The servants! You surely don't take so seriously what 
 I said about them, Sheila? Of course you don't need to 
 care what the servants think. And in any case they have to 
 bring up dinner for me, so you may as well come and try." 
 
 " Have you not had dinner?" she said timidly. 
 
 "Do you think I could sit down and eat with the notion 
 that you might have tumbled into, the Thames or been kid- 
 napped, or something? " 
 
 " I am very sorry," she said, in a low voice, and in the 
 gloom he felt his hand taken and carried to her lips. Then 
 they went down stairs in the dining-room, which was now 
 lit up by a blaze of gas and candles. 
 
 During dinner, of course, no very confidential talking was 
 possible, and, indeed, Sheila had plenty to teU of her adven- 
 tures at Richmond. Lavender was now in a more amiable 
 mood, and was disposed to look on the killing of the roebuck 
 as rather a good joke. He complimented Sheila on her good 
 sense in having gone in at the Star and Garter for lunch; 
 and altogether better relations were established between them. 
 
 But when dinner was finally over, and the servants dis- 
 missed, Lavender placed Sheila's easy-chair for her as usual, 
 drew his own near hers, and lit a cigarette. 
 
 " Now, tell me, Sheila," he said, "were you really vexed 
 with me when you went up stairs and locked yourself in you? 
 room ? Did you think I meant to displease you or say any< 
 thing harsh to you?" 
 
 " No, not any of those things," she said calmly; " I wished 
 to be alone to think over what had happened. And I was 
 grieved by what you said, for I think you cannot help look- 
 ing at many things not as I will look at them. That is all. It 
 is my bringing up in the Highlands, perhaps." 
 
 " Do you know, Sheila, it sometimes occurs to me that you 
 are not quite comfortable here ? And I can't make out what 
 is the matter. I think you have a perverse fancy that you 
 are different from the people you meet, and that you cannot 
 be like them, and all that sort of thing. Now, dear, that is 
 only a fancy. There need be no difference if you only wili 
 take a little trouble." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 "Oh, Frank!" she said, going over and putting her hand 
 on his shoulder, " I cannot take that trouble. I cannot try 
 to be like those people. And I see a great difference in you 
 since you have come back to London, and you are getting 
 to be like them and say the things they say. If I could only 
 see you, my own darling, up in the Lewis again, with rough' 
 clothes on and a gun in your hand, I should be happy. You 
 were yourself up there, when you were helping us in the boat, 
 or when you were bringing home the salmon, or when we 
 were all together at night in the little parlor, you know 
 
 "My dear, don't get excited. Now sit down and I will 
 tell you all about it. You seem to have the notion that peo- 
 ple lose all their finer sentiments simply because they don't, 
 in socie.ty, burst into raptures over them. You mustn't im- 
 agine all those people are selfish and callous merely because 
 they preserve a decent reticence. To tell you the truth, that 
 constant profession of noble feelings you would like to see 
 would have something of ostentation about it." 
 
 Sheila only sighed. "I do not wish them to be altered," 
 she said by and by, with her eyes growing pensive; "all I 
 know is, that I could not live the same life. And you you 
 seemed to be happier up in the Highlands than you have ever 
 been since." 
 
 "Well, you see, a man ought to be happy when he is en- 
 joying a holiday in the country along with the girl he is en- 
 gaged to. But if I had lived all my life killing salmon and 
 shooting wild duck, I should have grown up an ignorant 
 boor, with no more sense of " 
 
 He stopped for he saw that the girl was thinking of her 
 father. 
 
 " Well, look here, Sheila. You see how you are placed 
 how. we are placed, rather. Wouldn't it be more sensible to 
 get to understand those people you look askance at, and es- 
 tablish better relations with them, since you have got to live 
 among them? I can't help thinking you are too much alone, 
 and you can't expect me to stay in the house always with 
 you. A husband and wife cannot be continually in each 
 other's company, unless they want to grow heartily tired of 
 each other. Now, if you would only lay aside those suspi- 
 cions of yours, you would find the people just as honest and 
 generous and friendly as any other sort of people you ever 
 met, although they don't happen to be fond of expressing 
 their goodness in their talk/-' 
 
it 4 A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 " I have tried, dear I will try again," said Sheila. 
 
 She resolved that she would go down and visit Mrs. Lav- 
 cnder next day, and try to be interested in the talk of such 
 people as might be there. She would bring away some story 
 about this or the other fashionable woman or noble lord, just 
 to show her husband that she was doing her best to learn. 
 'She would drive patiently around the Park in that close little 
 brougham, and listen attentively to the moralities of Marcus 
 Aurelius. She would make an appointment to go with Mrs. 
 Lavender to a morning concert; and she would endeavor to 
 muster up courage to ask any ladies who might be there to 
 lunch with her on that day, and go afterward to this same 
 entertainment. All these things, and many more, Sheila silently 
 vowed to herself she would do, while her husband sat and 
 expounded to her his theories of the obligations which society 
 demanded of its members. 
 
 But her plans were suddenly broken asunder. 
 
 " I met Mrs. Lorraine accidentally to-day," he said. 
 
 It was his first mention of the young American lady. 
 Sheila sat in mute expectation. 
 
 " She always asks very kindly after you." 
 
 " She is very kind." 
 
 He did not say, however, that Mrs. Lorraine had more 
 than once made distinct propositions, when in his company, 
 that they should call in for Sheila, and take her out for a 
 drive or to a flower show, or some such place, while Laven- 
 der had always some excuse ready. 
 
 " She is going to Brighton to-morrow, and she was won- 
 dering whether you would care to run down for 3. day or 
 two." 
 
 " With her?" said Sheila, recoiling from such a proposal, 
 instinctively. 
 
 " Of course not. I should go. And then, at last, you 
 know, you would see the sea, about which you have been 
 dreaming for ever so long." 
 
 The sea! There was a magic in the very word that could, 
 almost at any moment, summon tears to her eyes. Of course 
 she accepted right gladly. If her husband's duties were so 
 pressing that the long-talked-of journey to Lewis and Borva 
 had to be repeatedly and indefinitely postponed, here at 
 least would be a chance of looking again at the sea of 
 drinking in the freshness and light and color of it of re- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 215 
 
 newmg her old and intimate friendship with it that had been 
 broken off for so long by her stay in this city of perpetual 
 houses and still sunshine. 
 
 " You can tell her you will go when you see her to-night at 
 Lady Mary's. By the way, isn't it time for you to begin to 
 dress?" 
 
 "Oh, Lady Mary's!" repeated Sheila mechanically, who 
 tiad quite forgotten about her engagement for that evening. 
 
 "Perhaps you are too tired to go," said her husband. 
 
 She was a little tired, in truth. But surely, just after her 
 promises, spoken and unspoken, some little effort was de- 
 manded of her; so she bravely went to dress, and in about 
 three quarters of an hour was ready to drive down to Curzon 
 Street. Her husband had never seen her look so pleased be- 
 fore in going out to any party. He flattered himself that 
 his lecture had done her some good. There was fair com- 
 mon sense in what he had said, and although, doubtless, a 
 girl's romanticism was a pretty thing, it would have to yield 
 to the actual requirements of society. In time he should 
 educate Sheila. 
 
 But he did not know what brightened the girl's face all 
 that night, and put a new life into the beautiful eyes, so that 
 even those who knew her best were struck by her singular 
 beauty. It was the sea that was coloring Sheila's eyes. 
 The people around her, the glare of the candles, the hum 
 of talking and the motion of certain groups dancing over 
 there in the middle of the throng all were faint and vision- 
 ary, for she was busily wondering what the sea would be like 
 ihe next morning, and what strange fancies would strike her 
 when once more she walked on sand and heard the roar of 
 waves. That, indeed, was the sound that was present in her 
 ears while the music played and the people murmured around 
 her. Mrs. Lorraine talked to her, and was surprised and 
 amused to notice the eager fashion in which the girl spoke of 
 their journey of the next day. The gentleman who took 
 her in to supper found himself catechised about Brighton in 
 a manner which afforded him more occupation than enjoy- 
 ment. And when Sheila drove away from the house at two 
 in the morning she declared to her husband that she had en- 
 joyed herself extremely, and he was glad to hear it; and she 
 was particularly kind to himself in getting him his slippers, 
 and fetching him that final cigarette which he always had on 
 
2l6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 reaching home ; and then she went off to bed to dream of 
 ships and flying clouds and cold winds, and a great and 
 beautiful blue plain of waves. 
 
 PART VII. 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 DEEPER AND DEEPER. 
 
 NEXT morning Sheila was busy with her preparations foi 
 departure, when she heard a hansom drive up. She looked 
 out and saw Mr. Ingram step out; and before he had time to 
 cross the pavement she had run around and opened the door, 
 and stood at the top of the steps to receive him. How often 
 had her husband cautioned her not to forget herself in this 
 monstrous fashion! 
 
 " Do you think I had run away? Have you come to see 
 me ?" she said, with a bright, roseate gladness on her face, 
 which reminded him of many a pleasant morning in Borva. 
 
 "I did not think you had run away, for, you see, I have 
 brought you some flowers;" but there was a sort of blush in 
 the sallow face, and perhaps the girl had some quick fancy 
 or suspicion that he had brought this bouquet to prove that 
 he knew everything was right, and that he expected to see 
 her. It was only a part of his universal kindness and thought- 
 fulness, she considered. 
 
 "Frank is up stairs," she said, "getting ready some things 
 to go to Brighton. Will you come into the breakfast-room ? 
 Have you had breakfast?" 
 
 "Oh, you were going to Brighton?'' 
 
 "Yes," she said, and somehow something move I her to 
 add quickly, "but not for long, you know. Only a few days. 
 It is many a time you will have told me of Brighton long 
 ago in the Lewis, but I cannot understand a large town 
 being beside the sea, and it will be a great surprise to me, I 
 am su*e of that." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2 17 
 
 "Ay, Sheila," he said, falling into the old habit quite 
 naturally, " you will find it different from Borvapost. You 
 will have no scampering about the rock, with your head bare 
 and your hair flying about. You will have to dress more 
 correctly there than hero even; and, by the way, you must 
 be busy getting ready; so I will go." 
 
 "Oh, no," she said, with a quick look of disappointment, 
 "you will not go yet. If I had known you were coming 
 but it was very late when we got home this morning: two 
 o'clock it was." 
 
 "Another ball?" 
 
 "Yes," said the girl, but not very joyfully. 
 
 "Why, Sheila," he said, with a grave smile on his face, 
 "you are becoming quite a woman of fashion now. And you 
 know I can't keep up an acquaintance with a fine lady, who 
 goes to all these grand places, and knows all sorts of swell 
 people ; so you'll have to cut me, Sheila." 
 
 " I hope I shall be dead before that time ever comes," 
 said the girl, with a sudden flash of indignation in her eyes. 
 Then she softened: "But it is not kind for you to laugh at 
 me." 
 
 " Of course I did not laugh at you," he said, taking both 
 her hands in his, " although I used to sometimes when yon 
 were a little girl and talked very wild English. Don't you 
 remember how vexed you used to be, and how pleased you 
 were when your papa turned the laugh against me by getting 
 mt to say that awful Gaelic sentence about " A young calf 
 ate a raw egg !" 
 
 "Can you say it now?" said Sheila, with her face getting 
 bright and pleased again. " Try it after me. Now listen." 
 
 She uttered some half dozen of the most extraordinary 
 sounds that any language ever contained, but Ingram would 
 not attempt to follow her. She reproached him with having 
 forgotten all that he had learnt in Lewis, and said she should 
 no longer look on him as a possible Highlander. 
 
 " But what siQyou now?" he asked. "You are no longer 
 that wild girl who used to run out to sea in the Maighdean- 
 mhara whenever there was the excitement of a storm coming 
 on." 
 
 " Many times," she said, slowly and wistfully, " I will wish 
 that I could be that again for a little while." 
 
 " Don't you enjoy, then, all those fine gatherings you 
 goto?" 
 
2l8 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 : 'I try to like them." 
 "And you don't succeed ?" 
 
 He was looking at her gravely and earnestly, and she 
 turned away her head and did not answer. At this moment 
 Lavender came down stairs and entered the room. 
 
 "Halloo, Ingram, my boy! glad to see you! What 
 pretty flowers ! It's a pity we can't take them to BrightoB 
 with us." 
 
 " But I intend to take them," said Sheila, firmly. 
 " Oh, very well, if you don't mind the bother," said her 
 husband. " I should have thought your hands would have 
 been full; you know you'll have to take everything with you 
 you would want in London. You will find that Brighton 
 i^fi't a dirty little fishing-village in which you've only to tuck 
 up your dress and run about anyhow ," 
 
 " I never saw a dirty little fishing-village," said Sheila,' 
 quietly. 
 
 Her husband laughed: "I meant no offense. I was not 
 thinking of Borvapost at all. Well, Ingram, can't you run 
 down and see us while we are at Brighton ?" 
 
 "Oh, do, Mr. Ingram?" said Sheila, with quite a new in- 
 terest in her face; and she came forward as though she would 
 have gone down on her knees and berged this great favor of 
 him. " Do Mr. Ingram ! We should try to amuse you 
 some way, and the weather is sure to be fine. Shall we keep 
 a room for you ? Can you come on Friday and stay till 
 Monday? It is a great difference there will be in the place if 
 you come down." 
 
 Ingram looked at Sheila, and was on the point of prom- 
 ising, when Lavender added: "And we shall introduce you 
 to that young American lady whom you are so anxious to 
 meet." 
 
 " Oh, is she to be there?" he said, looking rather curiously 
 at Lavender. 
 
 "Yes, and her mother. We are going down together." 
 " Then I'll see whether I can in a day or two," he said, 
 but in a tone which pretty nearly convinced Sheila that she 
 should not have her stay at Brighton made pleasant by the 
 company of her old friend and associate. 
 
 However, the mere anticipation of seeing the sea was 
 much ; and when they had got into a cab and were going 
 down to Victoria Station, Sheila's eyes were filled with 9 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 21$ 
 
 joyful anticipation. She had discarded altogether the de- 
 scriptions of Brighton that had been given her. It is one 
 thing to receive information, and another to reproduce it in 
 an imaginative picture; and in fact her imagination was 
 busy with its own work while she sat and listened to this 
 person or the other speaking of the seaside town she was 
 going to. When they spoke of promenades and drives and 
 miles of hotels and lodging houses, she was thinking of the 
 sea-beach and of the boats and of the sky-line with its dis- 
 tant ships. When they told her of private theatricals and 
 concerts and fancy-dress balls, she was thinking of being out 
 on the open sea, with a light breeze filling the sails, and a 
 curl of white foam rising at the bow and sweeping and h^- 
 ing down the sides of the boat. She would go down amon^ 
 the fishermen when her husband and his friends were not 
 by, and talk to them, and get to know what they sold their 
 fish for down here in the South. She would find out what 
 their nets cost, and if there was anybody in authority to 
 whom they could apply for an advance of a few pounds in 
 case of hard times. Had they their cuttings of peat free from 
 the nearest mossland ? and did they dress their fields with 
 the thatch that had got saturated with the smoke? Perhaps 
 some of them could tell her where the crews hailed from 
 that had repeatedly shot the sheep of the Flannen Isles. 
 All these and a hundred other things she would get to know; 
 and she might procure and send to her father some rare 
 bird or curiosity of the sea, that might be added to the little 
 museum in which she used to sing in days gone by, when he 
 was busy with his pipe and his whisky. 
 
 " You are not much tired, then, by your dissipation of 
 last night ?" said Mrs. Kavanagh to her at the station, as the 
 slender, fair-haired, grave lady looked admiringly at the 
 girl's fresh color and bright gray-blue eyes. "It makes one 
 envy you to see you looking so strong and in such good 
 spirits." 
 
 "How happy you must be always!" said Mrs. Lorraine; 
 and the younger lady had the same sweet, low and kindly 
 voice as her mother. 
 
 "I am very well, thank you," said Sheila, blushing some- 
 what, and not lifting her eyes, while Lavender was impatient 
 that she had not answered .with a laugh and some light retort, 
 such as would have occurred to almost any woman in the cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 On the journey down, Lavender and Mrs. Lorraine, seaied 
 opposite each other in two corner seats, kept up a continual 
 cross-fire of small pleasantries, in which the young American 
 lady had distinctly the best of it, chiefly by leason of her 
 perfect manner. The keenest thing she said was said with a 
 look of great innocence and candor in the large gray eyesr 
 and then directly afterward she would say something very 
 nice and pleasant in precisely the same voice, as if she could 
 not understand that there was any effort on the part of either 
 to assume an advantage. The mother sometimes turned and 
 listened to this aimless talk with an amused gravity, as of a 
 cat watching the gambols of a kitten, but generally she de- 
 voted herself to Sheila, who sat opposite her. She did not 
 talk much, and Sheila was glad of that, but the girl felt that 
 she was being observed with some little curiosity. She 
 wished that Mrs. Kavanagh would turn those observant gray 
 eyes of hers away in some other direction. Now and again 
 Sheila would point out what she considered strange or 
 striking in the country outside, and for a moment the elderly 
 lady would look out. But directly afterward the gray eyes 
 would come back to Sheila, and the girl knew they were upon 
 her. 
 
 At last she so persistently stared out of the window that 
 she fell to dreaming, and all the trees and the meadows and 
 the farm-houses and the distant heights and hollows went 
 past her as though they were in a sort of mist, while she replied 
 to Mrs. Kavanagh's chance remarks in a mechanical fashion, 
 and could only hear as a monotonous murmur the talk of the 
 two people at the other side of the carriage. How much of 
 the journey did she remember ? She was greatly struck by the 
 amount of open land in the neighborhood of London the 
 commons between Wandsworth and Streatham, and so forth 
 and she was pleased with the appearance ot the country 
 about Red Hill. For the rest, a succession of fair green pic- 
 tures passed by her, r,ll bathed in a calm, haif-misty Summer 
 sunlight; then they pierced the chalk-hills (which Sheila, at 
 first sight, fancied were of granite) and rambled through the 
 tunnels. Finally, with just a glimpse of a great mass of 
 gray houses filling a vast hollow and stretching up the bare 
 green downs beyond, they found themselves in Brighton. 
 
 "Well, Sheila, what do you thiak of the place ?'' her hus- 
 band said to her with a laugh as they were driving down the 
 Queen's road. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 221 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 " It is not like Borvapost, is it ?" 
 
 She was too bewildered to speak. She could only look 
 about her with a vague wonder and disappointment. But 
 surely this great city was not the place they had come to live 
 in ? Would it not disappear somehow, and they would get 
 away to the sea and the rocks and the boats ? 
 
 They passed into the upper part of West Street, and here 
 was another thoroughfare, down to which Sheila glanced with 
 no great interest. But the next moment there was a quick 
 catching of her breath, which almost resembled a sob, and 
 a strange glad light sprang into her eyes. Here, at last, was 
 the sea! Away beyond the narrow thoroughfare she could 
 catch a glimpse of a great green plain yellow-green it was in 
 the sunlight that the wind was whitening here and there 
 with tumbling waves. She had not noticed that there was 
 any wind in-land there everything seemed asleep but here 
 there was a fresh breeze from the South, and the sea had been 
 rough the day before, and now it was of this strange olive 
 color, streaked with the white curls of foam that shone in the 
 sunlight. Was there not a cold scent of sea-weed, too, blown 
 up this narrow passage between the houses ? 
 
 And now the carriage cut around the corner and whirled 
 out into the glare of the Parade, and before her the great sea 
 stretched out its leagues of tumbling and shining waves, and 
 she heard the water roaring along the beach, and far away 
 at the horizon she saw a phantom ship. She did not even 
 look at the row of splendid hotels and houses, at the gayly- 
 dressed folks on the pavement, at the brilliant flags that were 
 flapping and fluttering on the New Pier and about the beach. 
 It was the great world of shining water beyond that fascin- 
 ated her, and awoke in her a strange yearning and longing, 
 so that she did not know whether it was grief or joy that 
 burned in her heart and blinded her eyes with tears. Mrs. 
 Kavanagh took her arm as they were going up the steps of 
 the hotel, and said in a friendly way, " I suppose you have 
 some sad memories of the sea ?" 
 
 "No," said Sheila, bravely, "it is always pleasant to me 
 to think of the sea; but it is a long time since since " 
 
 "Sheila," said her husband, abruptly, " do tell me if all 
 your things are here;" and then the girl turned, calm and 
 self-collected, to look after rugs and boxes. 
 
j22 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 When they were finally established in the hotel, I^avendei 
 went off to negotiate for the hire of a carriage for Mrs. 
 Kavanagh during her stay, and Sheila was left with the two 
 ladies. They had tea in their sitting-room, and they had it 
 at one of the windows, so that they could look out on the 
 stream of people and carriages now beginning to flow by in 
 the clear yellow light of the afternoon. But neither the 
 people nor the carriages had much interest for Sheila, who, 
 indeed, sat for the most part silent, intently watching the 
 various boats that were putting out or coming in, and busy 
 with conjectures which she knew there was no use placing^ 
 before her two companions. 
 
 " Brighton seems to surprise you very much," said Mrs. 
 Lorraine. 
 
 "Yes," said Sheila, "I have been told all about it, but 
 you will forget all that; and this is very different from the 
 sea at home at my home." 
 
 "Your home is in London now," said the elder lady, with 
 a smile. 
 
 "Oh, no!" said Sheila, most anxiously and earnestly. 
 " London, that is not our home at all. We live there for a 
 time that will be quite necessary but we shall go back to 
 the Lewis some day soon not to stay altogether, but enough 
 to make it as n uch our home as London." 
 
 " How do you think Mr. Lavender will enjoy living in the 
 Hebrides?" said Mrs. Lorraine, with a look of innocent and 
 friendly inquiry in her eyes. 
 
 " It was many a time that he has said he never liked any 
 place so much," said Sheila with something of a blush; and 
 then she added with growing courage, " for you must not 
 think he is always like what he is here. Oh, no ! When he 
 is in the Highlands there is no day that is nearly long 
 enough for what has to be done in it; and he is up very 
 early, and away to the hills or the loch with a gun or a sal- 
 mon-rod. He can catch the salmon very well oh, very 
 well for one that is not accustomed and he will shoot as 
 well as any one that is in the island, except my papa. It is a 
 great deal to do there will be in the island, and plenty of 
 amusement; and there is not much chance not any what- 
 ever of his being lonely or tired when we go to live in the 
 Lewis." 
 
 Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter were both amused and 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 223 
 
 pleased by the earnest and rapid fashion in which Sheila 
 talked. They had generally considered her to be a trifle shy 
 and silent, not knowing how afraid she was of using wrong 
 idioms or pronunciations ; but here was one subject on 
 which her heart was set, and she had no more thought as to 
 whether she said like-a-ness or likeness, or whether she said 
 gyarden or garden. Indeed, ohe forgot more than that. She 
 was somewhat excited by the presence of the sea and the 
 well-remembered sound of the waves ; and she was pleased 
 to talk about her life in the North, and about her husband's 
 stay there, and how they should pass the time when she re- 
 turned to Borva. She neglected altogether Lavender's in- 
 structions that she should not talk about fishing or cooking 
 or farming to his friends. She incidentally revealed to Mrs. 
 Kavanagh and her daughter a great deal more about the 
 household at Borva than he would have wished to be known. 
 For how could they understand about his wife having her 
 own cousin to serve at table ? And what would they think 
 of a young lady who was proud of making her father's 
 shirts? Whatever these two ladies may have thought, they 
 were very obviously interested, and if they were amused, it 
 was in a far from unfriendly fashion. Mrs. Lorraine pro- 
 fessed herself quite charmed with Sheila's descriptions of her 
 island-life, and wished she could go up to Lewis to see all 
 these strange things. But when she spoke of visiting the 
 island when Sheila and her husband were staying there, 
 Sheila was not nearly so ready to offer her a welcome as the 
 daughter ot a hospitable old Highland man ought to have 
 been. 
 
 " And will you go out in a boat now?" said Sheila, looking 
 down to the beach. 
 
 "In a boat! What sort of a boat ?" said Mrs. Kavanagh. 
 
 " Any of those little sailing boats; it is very good they are, 
 as far as I can see." 
 
 " No, thank you," said the elder lady, with a smile, " I 
 am not fond of small boats, and the company of the men 
 who go with you might be 3, little objectionable, I should 
 fancy. 
 
 " But you need not take any ren ; " said Sheila; " the sail- 
 ing of one of those little boats, it is very simoJe." 
 
 " Do you mean to say you could manage the boat by your- 
 self?" 
 
224 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Oh yes ! It is very simple. And my husband he whi 
 help me." 
 
 "And what would you do if you went out? " 
 
 " We might try the fishing. I do not see where the rocks 
 are, but we would go off to the rocks and put down the 
 anchor and try the lines. You would have some ferry good 
 fish for breakfast in the morning." 
 
 j " My dear child," said Mrs. Kavanagh, " you don't know 
 what you propose to us. To go and roll about in an open 
 boat in these waves we should be ill in five minutes. But I 
 suppose you don't know what seasickness is?'' 
 
 "No," said Sheila, " but I will hear my husband speak of 
 it often. And it is only in crossing the Channel that people 
 will get sick." 
 
 " Why, this is the Channel." 
 
 Sheila stared. Then she endeavored to recall her geo- 
 graphy. Of course, this must be a part of the Channel, but 
 if the people in the South became ill in this weather, they 
 must be feeble creatures. Her speculations on this point 
 were cut short by the entrance of her husband, who came to 
 announce that he had not only secured a carriage for a 
 month, but that it would be around at the hotel door in half 
 an hour; whereupon the two American ladies said they would 
 be ready, and left the room. 
 
 " Now go off and get dressed, Sheila," said Lavender. 
 
 She stood .for a moment irresolute. 
 
 "If you wouldn't mind," she said, after a moment's hesi- 
 tation " if you would allow me to go by myself if you 
 would go to the driving, and let me go down to the shore !" 
 
 " Oh, nonsense!" he said. " You will have people fancy- 
 ing you are only a school-girl. How can you go down to 
 the beach by yourself among all those loafing vagabonds, 
 who would pick your pockets or throw stones at you ? You 
 must behave like an ordinary Christian. Now do, like a 
 good girl, get dressed and submit to the restraints of civil- 
 ized life. It won't hurt you much." 
 
 So she left, to lay aside, with some regret, her rough blue 
 dress, and he went down-stairs to see about ordering dinner. 
 
 Had she come down to the sea, then, only to live the life 
 that had nearly broken her heart in London ? It seemed so. 
 They drove up and down the Parade for about an hour 
 and a half, and the roar of the carriages drowned the rush of 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2 2Z 
 
 D 
 
 the waves. Then they dined in the quiet of this still Sum- 
 mer evening, and she could only see the sea as a distant and 
 silent picture through the windows, while the talk of her com- 
 panions was either about the people whom they had seen 
 while driving, or about matters of which she knew nothing. 
 Then the blinds were drawn and the candles lit, and still 
 their conversation murmured around her unheeding ears. 
 After dinner, her husband went down to the smoking-room 
 of the hotel to have a cigar, and she was left with Mrs. Kav- 
 anagh and her daughter. She went to the window, and 
 looked through a chink in the Venetian blinds. There was a 
 beautiful clear twilight abroad, the darkness still of a soft 
 gray, and up in the pale yellow-green of the sky a large planet 
 burned and throbbed. Soon the- sea and the sky would 
 darken, the stars would come forth in thousands and tens of 
 thousands, and the moving water would be struck with a 
 million trembling spots of silver as the waves came onward to 
 the beach. 
 
 "Mayn't we go out for a walk till Frank has finished his 
 cigar?" said Sheila. 
 
 "You couldn't go out walking at this time of night," said 
 Mrs. Kavanagh, in a kindly way, " you would meet the most 
 unpleasant persons. Besides going out into the night air 
 would be most dangerous," 
 
 , " It is a beautiful night," said Sheila, with a sigh. She 
 was still standing at the window. 
 
 " Come," said Mrs. Kavanagh, going over to her, and 
 putting her hand in her arm, " we cannot have any moping, 
 you know. You must be content to be dull with us for one 
 n : ght; and after to-night we shall see what we can do to 
 amuse you." 
 
 "Oh, but I don't want to be amused!" cried Sheila, al- 
 most in terror, for some vision flashed on her mind of a series 
 of parties. " I would much rather be left alone and allowed 
 to go about by myself. But it is very kind of you," she 
 hastily added, fancying that her speech had been somewhat 
 ungracious " it is very kind of you, indeed." 
 
 " Come, I promised to teach you cribbage, didn't I ?" 
 
 " Yes,'' raid Sheila, with much resignation, and she walked 
 to the table, and sat down. 
 
 Perhaps, after all, she could have spent the rest of the even- 
 ing with some little equanimity in patiently trying to learn 
 
226 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 this game, in which she had no interest whatever, but her 
 thoughts and fancies were soon drawn away from cribbage. 
 Her husband returned. Mrs. Lorraine had been for some 
 little time at the big piano at the other side of the room, 
 amusing herself by playing snatches of anything she hap- 
 pened to remember, but when Mr. Lavender returned she 
 seemed to wake up. He went over to her, and sat down by 
 the piano. 
 
 " Here," she said, " I have all the duets and songs you 
 spoke of, and I am quite delighted with those I have tried. 
 I wish mamma would sing a second to me; how can one learn 
 without practising ? And there are some of those duets I 
 really should like to learn after what you have said of them." 
 
 " Shall I become a substitute for your mamma?" he said. 
 
 "And sing the second, so that I may practise? Youf 
 cigar must have left you in a very amiable mood." 
 
 " Well, suppose we try," he said; and he proceeded to 
 open out the roll of music which she had brought down. 
 
 "Which shall we take first?" he asked. 
 
 "It does not much matter," she answered, indifferently, 
 and indeed she took up one of the duets at haphazard. 
 
 What was it made Mrs. Kavanagh's companion suddenly 
 lift her eyes from the cribbage-board and look with surprise 
 to the other end of the room. She had recognized the little 
 prelude to one of her own duets, and it was being played by 
 Mrs. Lorraine. And it was Mrs. Lorraine who began to sing 
 in a sweet, expressive and well-trained voice of no great 
 power 
 
 Love in thine eyes forever plays; 
 
 and it was she to whom the answer was given 
 He in thy snowy bosom strays; 
 
 and then Sheila, sitting stupefied and pained and confused, 
 
 heard them sing together- 
 He makes thy rosy lips his care, 
 And walks the mazes of thy hair. 
 
 She had not heard the short conversation which had intro- 
 duced this music ; and she could not tell but that her hus- 
 band had been practising these duets her duets with some 
 ope else. For presently they sang "When the. rosy morn 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 227 
 
 appearing/' and "I would that my love couM silently," and 
 others, all of them, in Sheila's eyes, sacred to the time when 
 she and Lavender used to sit in the little room in Borva. It 
 was no consolation to her that Mrs. Lorraine had but an im- 
 perfect acquaintance with them ; that oftentimes she stumbled 
 and went back over a bit of the accompaniment ; that her 
 voice was far from being striking. Lavender, at all events, 
 seemed to heed none of these things. It was not as a music 
 master that he sang with her. He put as much expression of 
 love into his voice as ever he had done in the old days when 
 he sang with his future bride. And it seemed so cruel that 
 this woman should have taken Sheila's own duets from her to 
 sing before her with her own husband. 
 
 Sheila learnt little more cribbage that evening. Mrs. 
 Kavariagh could not understand how her pupil had become 
 embarrassed, inattentive, and even sad, and asked her if she 
 was tired. Shiela said she was very tired and would go. 
 And when she got her candle, Mrs. Lorraine and Lavender 
 had just discovered another duet, which they felt bound to 
 try together as the last. 
 
 This was not the first time she had been more or less vaguely 
 pained by her husband's attentions to this young American 
 lady; and yet she would not admit to herself that he was any 
 in the wrong. She would entertain no suspicion of him. 
 She would have no jealousy in her heart, for how could jeal- 
 ousy exist with a perfect faith ? And so she had repeatedly 
 reasoned herself out of these tentative feelings, and resolved 
 that she would do neither her husband nor Mrs. Lorraine the 
 injustice of being vexed with them. So it was now. What 
 more .natural than that Frank should recommend to any one 
 the duets of which he was particularly fond? What more 
 natural than that this young lady should wish to show her 
 appreciation of those songs by singing them ? and who was 
 to sing with her but he ? Sheila would have no suspicion of 
 either; and so she came down next morning determined to 
 be very friendly with Mrs. Lorraine. 
 
 But that forenoon another thing occurred which nearly 
 broke down all her resolves. 
 
 " Sheila," said her husband, " I don't think I ever asked 
 you whether you rode ?" 
 
 " I used to ride many times at home,'' she said. 
 
 " But I suppose you'd rather not ride here," he said, 
 
228 A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 "Mrs. Lorraine and I propose to go out presently; you'll be 
 able to amuse yourself somehow till we come back." 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine had indeed gone to put on her habit, and her 
 mother was with her. 
 
 " I suppose I may go out," said Sheila. " It is so very dull 
 indoors, and Mrs. Kavanagh is afraid of the East wind, and 
 she is not going out." 
 
 "Well, there's no harm about your going out," answered 
 Lavender, " but I should have thought you'd have liked the 
 comfort of watching the people pass, from the window.'' 
 
 She said nothing, but went off to her own room and 
 dressed to go out. Why, she knew not, but she felt that she 
 would rather not see her husband and Mrs. Lorraine start 
 from the hotel-door. She stole down-stairs without going 
 into the sitting-room, and then, going through the gre'at hall 
 and down the steps, found herself free and alone in Brighton . 
 
 It was a beautiful, bright, clear day, though the wind was 
 a trifle chilly, and all around her there was a sense of space 
 and light and motion in the shining skies, the far clouds and 
 the heaving and noisy sea. Yet she had none of the glad- 
 ness of heart with which she used to rush out of the house 
 at Borva to drink in the fresh, salt air, and feel the sunlight 
 on her cheeks. She walked away, with her face wistful and 
 pensive, along the King's road, scarcely seeing any of the 
 people who passed her; and the noise of the crowd and of 
 the waves hummed in her ears in a distant fashion, even as she 
 walked along the wooden railing over the beach. She stopped 
 and watched some men putting off a heavy fishing-boat, and 
 she still stood and looked long after the boat was launched. 
 She would not confess to herself that she felt lonely aad mis- 
 erable; it was the sight of the sea that was melancholy. It 
 seemed so different from the sea off Borva, that had always 
 to her a familiar and friendly look, even when it was raging 
 and rushing before a Southwest wind. Here this sea looked 
 vast and calm and sad, and the sound of it was not p'.easant 
 to her ears, as was the sound of the waves on the rocks at 
 Borva. She walked on, in a blind and unthinking fashion, 
 until she had got far up the Parade, and could see the long 
 line of monotonous white cliff meeting the dull blue plain of 
 the waves until both disappeared in the horizon. 
 
 She returned to the King's road a trifle tired, and sat down 
 \>n one of the benches there. The passing of the people 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 229 
 
 would amuse her ; and now the pavement was thronged with a 
 crowd of gayly-dressed folks, and the centre of the thorough- 
 fare brisk with the constant going and coming of riders. 
 She saw strange old women painted, powdered and bewigged 
 in hideous imitation of youth, pounding up and down the 
 level street, and she wondered what wild hallucinations pos- 
 sessed the brains of these poor creatures. She saw troops 
 of beautiful young girls, with flowing hair, clear eyes and 
 bright complexions, riding by, a goodly company, under 
 charge of a riding-mistress, and the world seemed to grow 
 sweeter when they came into view. But while she was 
 vaguely gazing and wondering and speculating, her eyes were 
 suddenly caught by two riders whose appearance sent a 
 throb to her heart. Frank Lavender rode well, so did Mrs. 
 Lorraine; and, though they were paying no particular atten- 
 tion to the crowd of passers-by, they doubtless know that 
 they could challenge criticism with an easy confidence. They 
 were laughing and talking to each other as they went rapidly 
 by; neither of them saw Sheila. The girl did not look after 
 them. She rose and walked in the other direction, with a 
 greater pain at her heart than had been there for many a 
 day. 
 
 What was this crowd? Some dozen or so of people were 
 standing around a small girl, who, accompanied by a man, 
 was playing a violin, and playing it very well, too. But it 
 was not the music that attracted Sheila to the child, but 
 partly that there was a look about the timid, pretty face 
 and modest and honest eyes that reminded her of little Ailasa, 
 and partly because, just at this moment, her heart seemed to 
 be strangely sensitive and sympathetic. She took no thought 
 of the people looking on. She went forward to the edge of 
 the pavement, and found that the small girl and her com- 
 panion were about to go away. Sheila stopped the man. 
 
 " Will you let your little girl come with me into this 
 shop?" 
 
 It was a confectioner's shop. 
 
 "We were going home to dinner, ''said the man, while the 
 small girl looked up with wondering eyes. 
 
 " Will you let her have dinner with me, and you will come 
 back in a half an hour ? " 
 
 The man looked at the little girl; he seemed to be really 
 fond 01 her, and saw that she was very willing to go. Sheila 
 
230 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 took her hand and led her into the confectioner's shop, put- 
 ting her violin on one of the small marble tables while they 
 sat down at another. She was probably not aware that two 
 or three idlers had followed them, and were staring with 
 might and main in at the door of the shop. 
 
 What could this child have thought of the beautiful and 
 yet sad-eyed lady who was so kind to her, who got her all 
 sorts of things with her own hands and asked her all manner 
 of questions in a low, gentle and sweet voice ? There was 
 not much in Sheila's appearance to provoke fear or awe. The 
 little girl, shy et first, got to be a little more frank, and told 
 her hostess when she rose in the morning, how she practised, 
 the number of hours they were out during the day, and many 
 of the small incidents of her daily life. She had been pho- 
 tographed, too, and her photograph was sold in one of the 
 shops. She viiS very well content; she liked playing, the 
 people were Had to her, and she did not often get tired. 
 
 " Then I rhall see you often if I stay in Brighton ? ' said 
 Sheila. 
 
 " We go out every day when it does not rain very hard," 
 
 " Perhaps some wet day you will come and see me, and 
 you will have some tea with me; would you like that ?" 
 
 " Yes, very much," said the small musician, looking up 
 frankly. 
 
 Just at this moment, the half hour having fully expired, 
 the man appeared at the door. 
 
 " Don't hurry," said Sheila to the little girl; "sit still 
 and drink out the lemonade, then I will give you some little 
 parcels which you must put in your'pocket." 
 
 She was about to rise to go to the counter when she sud- 
 denly met the eyes of her husband, who was calmly staring 
 af her. He had come out, after their ride, with Mrs. Lor- 
 raine to have a stroll up and down the pavements, and had, 
 in looking in at the various shops, caught sight of Sheila 
 quietly having luncheon with this girl whom she had picked 
 up in the streets. 
 
 " Did you ever see the like of that?" he said to Mrs. Lor- 
 raine. " In open day, with people staring in, and she has 
 not even taken the trouble to put the violin out of sight!'' 
 
 " The poor child means no harm," said his companion. 
 
 "Well, we must get her out of this somehow," he saidj 
 and so they entered the shop. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2 3 l 
 
 Sheila knew she was guilty the moment she met her hus- 
 band's look, though she had never dreamed of it before. 
 She had, indeed, acted quite thoughtlessly perhaps chiefly 
 moved by a desire to speak to some one and to befriend 
 some one in her own loneliness. 
 
 " Hadn't you better let this little girl go ?" said Lavender 
 to Sheila, somewhat coldly, as soon as he had ordered an ice 
 for his companion. 
 
 " When she has finished her lemonade she will go," said 
 Sheila, meekly. " But I have to buy some things for her, 
 first." 
 
 " You have got a whole lot of people around the door,'* 
 he said. 
 
 " It is very kind of the people to wait for her," answered 
 Sheila, with the same composure. "We have been here 
 half an hour. I suppose they will like her music very much." 
 The little violiniste was now taken to the counter and her 
 pockets stuffed with packages of sugared fruits and other 
 deadly delicacies; then she was permittted to go with half a 
 crown in her hand. Mrs. Lorraine patted her shoulder in 
 passing, and said she was a pretty little thing. 
 
 They went home to luncheon. Nothing was said about 
 the incident of the forenoon, except that Lavender com- 
 plained to Mrs. Kavanagh in a humorous way, that his wife 
 had a most extraordinary fondness for beggars, and that he 
 never went home of an evening without expecting to find 
 her dining with the nearest scavenger and his family. Lav- 
 ender, indeed, was in an amiable frame of mind at the meal 
 (during the progress of which Sheila sat by the window, of 
 course, for she had already lunched in company with the 
 tiny violiniste), and was bent on making himself as agreeable 
 as possible to his two companions. Their talk had drifted 
 toward the wanderings of the two ladies on the Continent; 
 from that to the Niebelungen frescoes in Munich; from that 
 to the Niebelungen itself, and then by easy transition to the 
 ballads of Uhland and Heine. Lavender was in one of his 
 most impulsive and brilliant moods gay and jocular, tender 
 and sympathitic by turns, and so obviously sincere in all 
 that his listeners were delighted with his speeches and asser- 
 tions and stories, and believed them as implicitly as he did 
 himself. 
 
 Sheila, sitting at a distance, saw and heard, and could not 
 
J2 A PRINCESS OF THtfLti. 
 
 help recalling many an evening in the far North when Lav 
 ender used to fascinate every one around him by the infec- 
 tion of his warm and poetic enthusiasm. How he talked, 
 too telling the stories of these quaint and pathetic ballads 
 in his own rough and ready translations while there was no 
 self-consciousness in his face, but a thorough warmth of 
 earnestness; and sometimes, too, she would notice a quiver 
 of the under lip that she knew of old, when some pathetic 
 point or phrase had to be indicated rather than described. 
 He was drawing pictures for them as well as telling stories 
 of the three students entering the room in which the land- 
 lady's daughter lay dead of Barbarossa in his cave of the 
 child who used to look up at Heine as he passed her in the 
 street, awe-stricken by his pale and strange face of the last 
 of the band of companions who sat in the solitary room in 
 which they had sat, and drank to their memory of the King 
 of Thule, and the deserter from Strasburg, and a thousand 
 others. 
 
 " But is there any of them is there anything in the 
 world more pitiable than that pilgrimage to Kevlaar ?" he 
 said. " You know it, of course. No? Oh, you must, surely. 
 Don't you remember the mother who stood by the bedside 
 of her sick son, and asked him whether he would not rise to 
 see the great procession go by the window; and he tells her 
 that he cannot, he is so ill; his heart is breaking for thinking 
 of his dead Gretchen ? You know the story, Sheila. The 
 mother begs him to rise and come with her, and they will 
 join the band of pilgrims going to Kevlaar, to be healed 
 there of their wounds by the Mother of God. Then you find 
 them at Kevlaar, and all the maimed and the lame people 
 have come to the shrine; and whichever limb is diseased, 
 they make a waxen image of that and lay it on the altar, and 
 then they are healed. Well, the mother of this poor lad 
 takes wax and forms a heart out of it, and says to her son, 
 * Take that to the Mother of God, and she will heal your 
 pain.' Sighing, he takes the wax heart in his hand, and, 
 sighing, he goes to the shrine; and there, with tears running 
 down his face, he says: ' O beautiful Queen of Heaven, I am 
 come to tell you my grief. I lived with my mother in 
 Cologne; near us lived Gretchen, who is dead now. Blessed 
 Mary, I bring you this wax heart, heal the wound in my 
 heart.' And then and then " 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 2^3 
 
 Sheila saw his lip tremble. But he frowned and said im- 
 patiently: "What a shame it is to destroy such a beautiful 
 story ! You can have no idea of it of its simplicity and 
 tenderness " 
 
 " But pray let us hear the rest of it," said Mrs. Lorraine, 
 gently. , 
 
 " Well, the last scene, you know, is a small chamber, and 
 the mother and her sick son are asleep. The Blessed Mary 
 glides into the chamber and bends over the young man, and 
 puts her hand lightly on his heart. Then she smiles and 
 disappears. The unhappy mother has seen all this in a dream, 
 and now she awakes, for the dogs are barking loudly. The 
 mother goes over to the bed of her son, and he is dead, and 
 the morning light touches his pale face. And then the 
 mother folds her hands, and says " 
 
 He rose hastily with a gesture of fretfulness, and walked 
 over to the window at which Sheila sat, and looked out. 
 She put her hand up to his; he took it. 
 
 " The next time I try to translate Heine," he said, making 
 it appear that he had broken off through vexation, "some- 
 thing strange will happen." 
 
 " It is a beautiful story," said Mrs. Lorraine, who had her- 
 self been crying a little bit in a covered way, " I wonder I 
 have not seen a translation of it. Come, mamma, Lady Lev- 
 eret said we were not to be after four." 
 
 So they rose and left, and Sheila was alone with her hus- 
 band, and still holding his hand. She looked up at him 
 timidly, wondering, perhaps, in her simple way, as to whether 
 she should not now pour out her heart to him and tell him 
 all her griefs and fears and yearnings. He had obviously 
 been deeply moved by the story he had told so roughly; 
 surely now was a good opportunity of appealing to him, and 
 begging for sympathy and compassion. 
 
 " Frank," she said, and she rose and came close, and bent 
 down her head to hide the color in her face. 
 
 " Well ?" he answered, a trifle coldly. 
 
 " You won't be vexed with me," she said, in a low voice, 
 and with her heart beginning to beat rapidly. 
 
 "Vexed with you; about what?" he said, abruptly. 
 
 Ala^! all her hopes had fled. She shrank from the cold 
 stare with which she knew he was regarding her. She felt it 
 to be impossible that she should place before him those con- 
 
234 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 fidences with which she had approached him; and so, with a 
 great effort, she merely said: "Are we to go to Lady 
 Leveret's ?" 
 
 " Of course we are,* 7 he said, "unless you would rather go 
 to see some blind fiddler or beggar. It is really too bad of 
 you, Sheila, to be so forgetful; 'what if Lady Leveret, for 
 example, had come into that shop? It seems to me you are 
 never satisfied with meeting the people you ought to meet, 
 but that you must go and associate with all the wretched 
 cripples and beggars you can find. You should remember 
 you are a woman, and not a child that people will talk 
 about what you do if you go on in this mad way. Do you 
 ever see Mrs. Kavanagh or her daughter do any of these 
 things?" 
 
 Sheila had let go his hand; her eyes were still turned 
 toward the ground. She had fancied that a little of that 
 emotion that had been awakened in him by the story of the 
 German mother and her son might warm his heart toward 
 herself, and render it possible for her to talk to him frankly 
 about all that she had been dimly thinking, and more de- 
 finitely suffering. She was mistaken, that was all. 
 
 " I will try to do better, and please you," she said; and 
 then she went away. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 
 
 WAS it a delusion that had grown up in the girl's mind, and 
 held full possession of it that she was in a world with which 
 she had no sympathy, that she should never be able to find 
 a home there, that the influences of it were gradually and 
 surely stealing from her her husband's love and confidence? 
 Or was this longing to get away from the people and the cir- 
 cumstances that surrounded her but the unconscious prompt- 
 ings of an incipient jealousy? She did not question her own 
 mind closely on these points. She only vaguely knew that 
 she was miserable, and that she could not tell her husband 
 of the weight that pressed on her heart. 
 
 Here, too, as they drove along to have tea with a certain 
 Lady Leveret, who was one of Lavender's especial patrons, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 2 35 
 
 and to whom he had introduced Mrs. Kavanagh and her 
 daughter, Sheila felt that she was a stranger, an interloper, a 
 " third wheel to the cart." She scarcely spoke a word. She 
 looked at the sea, but she had almost grown to regard that 
 great plain of smooth water as a melancholy and monotonous 
 thing not the bright and boisterous sea of her youth, with 
 its winding channels, its secret bays and rocks, its salt 
 winds and rushing waves. She was disappointed with the 
 perpetual wall of white cliff, where she had expected to see 
 something of the black and rugged shore of the North. She 
 had as yet made no acquaintance with the sea-life of the place ; 
 she did not know where the curers lived ; whether they gave 
 the fishermen credit and cheated them; whether the people 
 about here made any use of the back of the dog-fish, or 
 could, in hard seasons, cook any of the wild-fowl; what the 
 ling and the cod and the skate fetched ; where the wives and 
 the daughters sat and spun and carded their wool; whether 
 they knew how to make a good dish of cockles boiled in 
 milk. She smiled to herself when she thought of asking Mrs. 
 Lorraine about any such things; but she still cherished some 
 vague hope that before she left Brighton she would have 
 some little chance of getting near to the sea and learning a 
 little of the sea-life down in the South. 
 
 And as they drove along the King's Road on this afternoon 
 she suddenly called out, " Look, Frank !" 
 
 On the steps of the Old Ship Hotel stood a small man 
 with a brown face, a brown beard and a beaver hat, who was 
 calmly smoking a wooden pipe, and looking at an old woman 
 selling oranges in front of him. 
 
 " It is Mr. Ingram," said Sheila. 
 
 "Which is Mr. Ingram?" asked Mrs. Lorraine, with con- 
 siderable interest, for she had often heard Lavender speak 
 of his friend. " Not that little man ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Lavender, coldly ; he could have wished that 
 Ingram had had some little more regard for appearances in 
 so public a place as the main thoroughfare of Brighton. 
 
 "Won't you stop and speak to him?" said Sheila, with 
 great surprise. 
 
 "We are late already," said her husband. "But if you 
 would rather go back and speak to him than go on with us, 
 you may." 
 
 Sheila said nothing more; and so they drove on to the end 
 
236 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 of the Parade, where Lady Leveret held possession of a big 
 white house with pillars, overlooking the broad street and 
 the sea. 
 
 But next morning she said to him, " I suppose you will be 
 riding with Mrs. Lorraine this morning?" 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 / " I should like to go and see Mr. Ingram, if he is still 
 there," she said. 
 
 "Ladies don't generally call at hotels and ask to see gen> 
 tlemen; but of course you don't care for that." 
 
 " I shall not go if you do not wish me." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense. You may as well go. What is the use of 
 professing to keep observances that you don't understand ? 
 And it will be some amusement for you, for I dare say both 
 of you will immediately go and ask some old cab-driver to 
 have luncheon with you, or buy a nosegay of flowers for his 
 horse." 
 
 The permission was not very gracious, but Sheila accepted 
 it, and very shortly after breakfast she changed her dress 
 and went out. How pleasant it was to know that she was 
 going to see her old friend, to whom she could talk freely! 
 The morning seemed to know of her gladness, and to share 
 in it, for there was a brisk Southerly breeze blowing fresh in 
 from the sea, and the leaves were leaping white in the sun- 
 light. There was no more sluggL hness in the air, or the gray 
 sky, or the leaden plain of the sea. Sheila knew that the 
 blood was mantling in her cheeks; that her heart was full of 
 joy; that her whole frame so tingled with life and spirit that, 
 had she been in Borva, she would have challenged her deer- 
 hound to a race, and fled down the side of the hill with him 
 to the small bay of white sand below the house. She did not 
 pause for a minute when she reached the hotel. She went 
 up the steps, opened the door, and entered the square hall. 
 There was an odor of tobacco in the place, and several 
 gentlemen standing about rather confused her, for she had to 
 glance at them in looking for a waiter. Another minute 
 would probably have found her a trifle embarrassed, but 
 that, just at this crisis, she saw Ingram himself come out of a 
 room, with a cigarette in his hand. He threw away the cig. 
 arette, and came forward to her, with amazement in his eyes. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Lavender ? Has he gone into the smoking- 
 room for me ?" he asked, ( 
 
A PRINCESS Ol' THULE. 
 
 2 37 
 
 " He is not here," said Sheila. " I have come for you 
 by myself." 
 
 For a moment, too, Ingram felt the eyes of the men on 
 him, but directly he said, with a fine air of carelessness. 
 " Well, that is very good of you. Shall we go out fora stroll 
 until your husband comes ?" 
 
 So he opened the door and followed her outside.into the 
 fresh air and the roar of the waves. 
 
 "Well, Sheila," he said, " this is very good of you, really; 
 where is Mr. Lavender?" 
 
 ' He generally rides with Mrs. Lorraine in the morning." 
 
 ' And what do you do ?" 
 
 ' I sit at the window." 
 
 ' Don't you go boating?" 
 
 ' No, I have not been in a boat. They do not care for it. 
 And yesterday it was a letter to papa I was writing, and I 
 could tell him nothing about the people here or the fishing." 
 
 "But you could not in any case, Sheila. I suppose you 
 would like to know what they pay for their lines, and how 
 they dye their wool, and so on ; but you would find the fish- 
 ermen here don't live in that way at all. They are all civi- 
 lized, you know. They buy their clothing in the shops. 
 They never eat any sort of seaweed or dye with it, either. 
 However, I will tell you all about it by-and-by. At present 
 I suppose you are returning to your hotel." 
 
 A quick look of pain and disappointment passed over her 
 face as she turned to him for a moment with something of 
 entreaty in her eyes. 
 
 " I came to see you," she said. "But perhaps you have an 
 engagement. I do not wish to take up any of your time; if 
 you please, I will go back alone to " 
 
 "Now, Sheila," he said, with a smile, and with the old 
 friendly look she knew so well, "you must not talk like that 
 to me. I won't have it. You know I came down to Brighton 
 because you asked me to come; and my time is altogether 
 at your service." 
 
 "And you have no engagement just now?'' said Sheila, 
 with her face brightening. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And you will take me down to the shore to see the boats 
 and nets ? Or could we go out and run along the coast for 
 a few miles ? It is a very good wind." 
 
438 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "Oh, I should be very glad," said Ingram slowly. "1 
 should be delighted. But, you see, wouldn't your husband 
 think it wouldn't he you know wouldn't it seem just a 
 little odd to him if you were to go away like that?" 
 
 " He is to go riding with Mrs. Lorraine," said Sheila quite 
 simply. " He does not want me." 
 
 " Of course you told him you were coming to see you 
 were going to call at the Old Ship ?" 
 
 " Yes. And I am sure he would not be surprised if I did 
 not return for a long time." 
 
 " Are you quite sure, Sheila?" 
 
 " Yes, I am quite sure," 
 
 " Very well. Now I shall tell you what I am going to do 
 with you. I shall first go and bribe some mercenary boat- 
 man to let us have one of those small boats committed to 
 our own exclusive charge. I shall constitute you skipper 
 and pilot of the craft, and hold you responsible for my safety. 
 I shall smoke a pipe to prepare me for whatever may befall." 
 
 "Oh, no," said Sheila. " You must work very hard, and 
 I will see whether you remember all that I taught you in the 
 Lewis. And if we can have some long lines we might get 
 some fish. Will they pay more than thirty shillings for their 
 long lines in this country?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Ingram. "I believe most of the 
 fishermen here live upon the shillings they get from the 
 passers-by after a little conversation about the weather and 
 their hard lot in life; so that one doesn't talk to them more 
 than one can help." 
 
 "But why do they need the money? Are there no fish ?" 
 
 " I don't know that, either. I suppose there is some good 
 fishing in the Winter, and sometimes in the Summer they get 
 some big shoals of mackerel." 
 
 " It was a letter I had last week from the sister of one of 
 the men of the Nighean-dubh, and she will tell me that they 
 have been very lucky all through the last season, and it was 
 near six thousand ling they got." 
 
 " But I suppose they are in debt to some curer up about 
 Habost ?" 
 
 "Oh, no; not at all. It is their own boat ; it is not hired 
 to them. And it is a very good boat whatever." 
 
 That unlucky "whatever" had shipped out inadvertently: 
 the moment she had uttered it she blushed and looked 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 239 
 
 timidly toward her companion, fearing that he had noticed 
 it. He had not. How could she have made such a blunder? 
 she asked herself. She had been most particular about the 
 avoidance of the word, even in the Lewis. The girl did not 
 know that from the moment she had left the steps of the Old 
 Ship'in company with that good friend of hers she had un- 
 consciously fallen into much of her old pronounciation and 
 her old habit of speech; while Ingram, much more familiar 
 with the Sheila of Borvapost and Loch Roag than with the 
 Sheila of Netting Hill and Kensington Gardens did not per- 
 ceive the difference, but was mightily pleased to hear her 
 talk in any fashion whatsoever. 
 
 By fair means or foul, Ingram managed to secure a pretty 
 little sailing vessel which lay at anchor out near the New 
 Pier, and when the pecuniary negotiations were over, Sheila 
 was invited to walk down over the loose stones of the beach 
 and take command of the craft. The boatman was still very 
 doubtful. When he had pulled them out to the boat, how- 
 ever, and put them on board, he speedily perceived that his 
 handsome young lady not only knew everything that had to 
 be done in the way ofgetting the small vessel ready, but had 
 a very smart and business-like way of doing it. It was very 
 obvious that her companion did not know half as much about 
 the matter as she did; but he was obedient and watchful, and 
 presently they were ready to start. The man put off in his 
 boat to shore again, much relieved in mind, but not a little 
 puzzled to understand where the young lady had picked up 
 not merely her knowledge of boats, but the ready way in 
 which she put her delicate hands to hard work, and the prompt 
 and effectual fashion in which she accomplished it. 
 
 " Shall I belay away the jib or reef the upper hatchways ?" 
 Ingram called out to Sheila when they had fairly got under 
 way. 
 
 She did not answer for a moment; she was still watching 
 with a critical eye the manner in which the boat answered 
 to her wishes; and then, when everything promised well and 
 she was quite satisfied, she said, " If you will take my place 
 for a moment and keep a good lookout, I will put on my 
 gloves." 
 
 She surrendered the tiller and the mainsail sheets into his 
 care, and, with another glance ahead, pulled out her gloves. 
 
 "You did not use to fear the saltwater or the sun on 
 your hands, Sheila," said her companion. 
 
246 A PRINCESS OF THtfLE. 
 
 "I do not now," she said, "but Frank would be displeased 
 to see my hands brown. He has himself such pretty hands.'*' 
 ' What Ingram thought about Frank Lavender's delicate 
 hands he was not going to say to his wife; and indeed he was 
 called upon at this moment to let Sheila resume her post, 
 r/hich she did with an air of great satisfaction and content. 
 
 And so they ran lightly through the curling and dashing 
 water on this brilliant day, caring little i ideed for the great 
 town that lay away to leeward, with its shining terraces sur- 
 mounted by a faint cloud of smoke. Here all the roar of 
 carriages and people was unheard; the only sound that ac- 
 companied their talk was the splashing of the waves at the 
 prow, and the hissing and gurgling of the water along 
 the boat The South wind blew fresh and sweet around 
 them, filling the broad white sails and fluttering the small 
 pennon up there in the blue. It seemed strange to Sheila 
 that she should be so much alone with so great a town close 
 by th: t under the boom she could catch a glimpse of the 
 noisy Parade without hearing any of its noise. And there, 
 away to windward, there was no more trace of city life only 
 the great blue sea, with its waves flowing on toward them 
 from out of th far horizon, and with here and there a pale 
 ship just appearing on the line where the sky and ocean met. 
 
 "Well, Sheil how do you like_ being on the sea again?" 
 said Ingram, getting out his pipe. 
 
 " Oh, very well. But you must not smoke Mr. Ingram; 
 you must attend to the boat." 
 
 " Don't you feel at home in her yet ?" he asked. 
 
 " I am not afraid of her," said Sheila, regarding the lines 
 of the small craft with the eye of a shipbuilder, " but she is 
 very narrow in the beam, and she carries too much sail for 
 so small a thing. I suppose they have not any squalls on this 
 coast, where you have no hills and no narrows to go through." 
 
 " It doesn't remind you of Lewis, does it?" he said, filling 
 his pipe all the same. 
 
 "A little out there it does," she said, turning to the 
 broad plain of the sea, "but it is not much that is in this 
 country that is like the Lewis; sometimes I think that I 
 (ihall be a stranger when I go back to the Lewis, and the 
 people will scarcely know me, and everything will be changed." 
 
 He looked at her for a second or two. Then he laid down 
 bis pipe, which had not been lit, and said to her gravely, " } 
 
A PRINCESS of THULE. 41 
 
 want you to tell me, Shsila, why you have got into a habit 
 lately of talking about many things, and especially about 
 your home in the North, in that sad way. You did not do 
 that when y >u came to London first; and yet it was then 
 that you might have been struck and shocked by the differ- 
 ence. You had no home-sickness for a long time. But is it 
 home-sickness, Sheila ?" 
 
 How was she to tell him ? For an instant she was on the 
 point of giving him all her confidence; and then, somehow 
 or other, it occurred to her that she would be wronging her 
 husband in seeking such sympathy from a friend as she had 
 been expecting, and expecting in vain, from him. 
 
 " Perhaps it is home-sickness," she said, in a low voice, 
 while she pretended to be busy tightening up the mainsail 
 sheet. " I should like to see Borva again.'' 
 
 " But ycu don't wc.nt to live there all your life ?" he said. 
 " You know that would be unreasonable, Sheila, even if your 
 husband could manage it; and I don't suppose he can. 
 Surely your papa does not expect you to go and live in Lewis 
 always ?" 
 
 ''Oh, no," she said, eagerly. "You must not think my 
 papa wishes anything like that. It will be much less than 
 that he was thinking of when he used to speak to Mr. Laven- 
 der about it. And I do not wish to live in the Lewis always; 
 I have no dislike to London none at all only that 
 that " And here she paused. 
 
 " Come, Sheila," he said in the old paternal way to which 
 she had been accustomed to yield up all her own wishes in 
 the old days of their friendship, "I want you to be frank 
 with me, and tell me what is the matter. I know there is 
 something wrong; I have seen it for some time back. Now, 
 you know I took the responsibility of your marriage on my 
 shoulders, and I am responsible to you, and to your papa 
 and myself for your comfort and happiness. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 She still hesitated, grateful in her inmost heart, but still 
 doubtful as to what she should do. 
 
 " You look on me as an intermeddler," he said with a 
 smile. 
 
 " No, no," she said ; " you have always been our best 
 friend. 
 
 "But I have in'.ermeddled, none the less. Don't you re- 
 
242 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 member when I told you that I was prepared to accept the 
 consequences?" 
 
 It seemed so long a time since then ! 
 
 "And once having to intermeddle, I can't stop it, don't 
 you see? Now, Sheila, you'll be a good little girl and do 
 what I tell you. You'll take the boat a long way out; we'll 
 put her head around, take down the sails, and let her tum- 
 ble about and drift for a time, till you tell me all about your 
 troubles, and then we'll see what can be done." 
 
 She obeyed in silence with her face grown grave enough 
 in anticipation of the coming disclosures. She knew that 
 the first plunge into them would be keenly painful to her, 
 but there was a feeling at her heart that, this penance over, 
 a great relief would be at hand. She trusted this man as she 
 would have trusted her own father. She knew that there was 
 nothing on earth he would not attempt if he fancied it would 
 help her. And she knew, too, that having experienced sc 
 much of hir great unselfishness and kindness and thoughtful- 
 ness, she was ready to obey him implicitly in anything that 
 he could assure her was right for her to do. 
 
 How far away seemed the white cliffs now, and the faint 
 green downs above them! Brighton, lying farther to the 
 West, had become dim and yellow, and over it a cloud of 
 smoke lay thick and brown in the sunlight. A mere streak 
 showed the line of the King's road and all its carriages and 
 people; the beach beneath could just be made out by the 
 white dots of the bathing-machines; the brown fishing-boats 
 seemed to be close in shore; the two piers were foreshort- 
 ened into small dusky masses marking the beginning of the 
 sea. And then from these distant and faintly-defined ob- 
 jects out here to the side of the small white and pink boat, 
 that lay lightly in the lapping water, stretched that great 
 and moving network of waves, with here and there a sharp 
 gleam of white foam curling over amid the dark blue-green. 
 Ingram took his seat by Sheila's side, so that he should 
 not have to look in her downcast face; and then with some 
 little preliminary nervousness and hesitation, the girl told 
 her story. She told it to sympathetic ear's, and yet Ingram, 
 having partly guessed how matters stood, and anxious, per- 
 haps, to know whether much of her trouble might not be 
 merely the result of fancies which could be reasoned and ex. 
 plained away, was careful to avoid anything like corrobora- 
 
A PR:NCESS OF THULE. 243 
 
 tion. He let her talk in her own simple and artless way.' 
 and the girl spoke to him, after a little while, with an earn- 
 nestness which showed how deeply she felt her position. At 
 the very outset she told him that her love for her husband 
 had never altered for a moment that all the prayers and 
 desire of her heart were that they two might be to each other 
 as she had at one time hoped they would be when he got 
 to know her better. 
 
 She went over all the story of her coming to London of 
 her first experiences there, of the conviction that grew upon 
 her that her husband was somehow disappointed with her, 
 and was anxious now that she should conform to the wr,ys 
 and habits of the people with whom he associated. She 
 spoke of her efforts to obey his wishes, and how heartsick 
 she was with her failures, and of the dissatisfaction which he 
 showed. She spoke of the people to whom be devoted his 
 life, of the way in which he passed his time, and of the im- 
 possibility of her showing him, so long as he thus remained 
 apart from her, the love she had in her heart for him, and 
 the longing for sympathy which that love involved. And 
 then she came to the question of Mrs. Lorraine : and here it 
 seemed to Ingram she was trying^at once to put her husband's 
 conduct in the most favorable light, and to blame herself for 
 her unreasonableness. Mrs. Lorraine was a pleasant com- 
 panion to him, she could talk cleverly and brightly,* she 
 was pretty, and she knew a large number of his friends. 
 Sheila was anxious to show that it was the most natural thing 
 in the world that her husband, finding her so out of commu- 
 nion with his ordinary surroundings, should make an especial 
 friend of this graceful and fascinating woman. And if at 
 times it hurt her to be left alone but here the girl broke 
 down somewhat, and Ingram pretended not to know that she 
 was crying. 
 
 These were strange things to be told to a man, and they 
 were difficult to answer. But out of these revelations which 
 rather took the form of a cry than of any distinct statement 
 he formed a notion of Shiela's position sufficiently exact; 
 and the more he looked at it the more alarmed and pained 
 he grew, for he knew more of her than her husband did. He 
 knew the latent force of character that underlay all her sub- 
 missive gentleness. He knew the keen sense of pride her 
 Highland birth had given her*, and he feared what might 
 
244 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 happen if this sensitive and proud heart of hers were driven 
 into rebellion by some possibly unintentional wrong. And 
 this high-spirited, fearless, honor-loving girl who was gentle 
 and obedient, not through any timidity or limpness of char- 
 acter, but because she considered it her duty to be gentle and 
 obedient was to be cast aside and have her tenderest feel- 
 jings outraged and wounded for the sake of an unscrupulous, 
 shallow-brained woman of fashion, who was not fit to be 
 Shiela's waiting-maid. Ingram had never seen Mrs. Lorraine, 
 but he had formed his own opinion of her. The opinion, 
 based upon nothing, was wholly wrong, but it served to in- 
 crease, if that were possible, his sympathy with Shiela, and 
 his resolve to interfere on her behalf at whatever cost. 
 
 " Sheila,'' he said, gravely putting his hand on her shoul- 
 der as if she were still the little girl who used to run wild 
 with him about the Borva rocks, " you are a good woman." 
 
 He added to himself that Lavender knew little of the value 
 of the wife he had got, but he dared not say that to Sheila, 
 who would suffer no imputation against her husband to be 
 uttered in her presence, however true it might be, or however 
 much she had cause to know it to be true. 
 
 " And, after all," he said in a lighter voice, " I think I can 
 do something to mend all this. I will say for Frank laven- 
 der that he is a thoroughly good fellow at heart, and that 
 whan you appeal to him, and put things fairly before him, 
 and show him what he ought to do, there is not a more hon- 
 orable and straightforward roan in the world. He has been 
 forgetful, Sheila. He has been led away by these people, 
 yea know, and has not been aware of what you were suffer- 
 ing. When I put the matter before him, you will see it will 
 be all right; and I hope to persuade him to give up this con- 
 stant idling and take to his work, and have something to live 
 for. I wish you and I together could get him to go away 
 from London altogether get him to take to serious land- 
 scape painting on some wild coast the Galway coast, for 
 example." 
 
 " Why not the Lewis?" said Sheila, her heart turning to 
 the North as naturally as the needle. 
 
 "Or the Lewis. And I should like you and hir.i to live 
 away from hotels and luxuries, and all such things; and he 
 would work all day, and you would do the cooking in some 
 small cottage you could rent, you know." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 245 
 
 " You make me so happy in thinking of that," she said, 
 with her eyes growing well again. 
 
 " And why should he not do so? There is nothing ro- 
 mantic or idyllic about it, but a good, wholesome, plain 
 sort of life, that is likely to make an honest painter of him, 
 and bring both of you some well-earned money. And you 
 might have a boat like this." 
 
 " We are drifting too far in, "said Sheila, suddenly rising. 
 " Shall we go back now ?" 
 
 " By all means," he said; and so the small boat was put 
 under canvas again, and was soon making way through the 
 breezy water. 
 
 "Well, all this seems simple enough, doesn't it?" said Ingram. 
 
 " Yes," said the girl, with her face full of hope. 
 
 " And then, of course, when you are quite comfortable to- 
 gether, and making heaps of money, you can turn around 
 and abuse me, and say I made all the misery to begin with." 
 
 " Did we do so before when you were very kind to us?" 
 she said in a low voice. 
 
 " Oh, but that was different. To interfere on behalf of 
 two young folks who are in love with each other is danger- 
 ous, but to interfere between two people who are married 
 that is a certain quarrel. I wonder what you will say when 
 you are scolding me, Sheila, and bidding me get out of the 
 house ? I have never heard you scold. Is it Gaelic or Eng- 
 lish you prefer ?" 
 
 " I prefer whichever can say the nicest things to my very 
 good friends, and tell them how grateful I am for their kind- 
 ness to me." 
 
 " Ah,, well, we'll see." 
 
 When they got back to shore it was half-past one. 
 
 "You will come and have some luncheon with us?" said 
 Sheila when they had gone up the steps and into the King's 
 road. 
 
 "Will that lady be there?" 
 
 " Mrs. Lorraine ? Yes." 
 
 "Then I'll come some other time." 
 
 " But why not come now ?" said Sheila. " It is not neces- 
 sary that you will see us only to speak about those things we 
 have been talking over?" 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all. If you and Mr. Lavender were bj 
 yourselves,. I should come at once." 
 
246 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "And are you afraid of Mrs. Lorraine?" said Sheila, with 
 a, smile. " She is a very nice lady, indeed : you have no 
 cause to dislike her." 
 
 " But I don't want to meet her, Sheila, that is all," he said; 
 and she knew well, by the precision of his manner, that 
 there was no use trying to persuade him further. 
 
 He walked along to the hotel with her, meeting a consid- 
 erable stream of fashionably-dressed folks on the way; and 
 neither he nor she seemed to remember that his costume a 
 blue pilot jacket, not a little worn and soiled with the salt 
 water, and a beaver hat that had seen a good deal of tough 
 weather in the Highlands was a good deal more comforta- 
 ble than elegant. He said to her, as he left her at the hotel: 
 " Would you mind telling Lavender I shall drop in at half- 
 past three, and that I expect to see him in the coffee-room ? 
 I shan't keep him five minutes." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment, and he saw that she knew 
 what this appointment meant, for her eyes were full of 
 gladness and gratitude. He went away pleased at heart that 
 she put so much trust in him. And in this case he should he 
 able to reward that confidence, for Lavender was really a 
 good sort of fellow, and would at once be sorry for the wrong 
 he had unintentionally done, and be only too anxious to set 
 it right. He ought to leave Brighton at once, and London, 
 tno. He ought to go away into the country or by the sea- 
 side, and begin working hard to earn money and self-respect 
 at the same time; and then, in his friendly solitude, he would 
 get to know something about Sheila's character, and begin to 
 perceive how much more valuable were these genuine quali- 
 ties of heart and mind than any social graces such as might 
 lighten up a dull drawing-room. Had Lavender yet learnt 
 to know the worth of an honest woman's perfect love and 
 unquestioning devotion ? Let these things be put before 
 him, and he would go and do the right thing, as he had 
 many a time done before, in obedience to the lecturing of 
 his friend. 
 
 Ingram called at half-past three, and went into the coffee- 
 room. There was no one in the long, large room, and he 
 sat down at one of the small tables by the windows, from 
 which a bit of lawn, the King's road and the sea beyond 
 were visible. He had scarcely taken his seat when Lavender 
 came in. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 247 
 
 " Halloo, Ingram! how are you?" he said in his freest and 
 friendliest way. Won't you come up stairs? Have you had 
 lunch? Why did you go to the Ship? 
 
 "I always go to the Ship," he said. "No, thank you, I 
 won't go up-stairs." 
 
 " You are a most unsociable sort of brute !" said Lavender 
 frankly. " Will you take a glass of sherry ?" 
 
 " No, thank you." ' 
 
 " Will you have a game of billiards ?" 
 
 " No, thank you. You don't mean to say you would play 
 billiards on such a day as this ?" 
 
 " It is a fine day, isn't it ?" said Lavender, turning care- 
 lessly to look at the sunlit road and the blue sea. " By the 
 way, Sheila tells me you and she were out sailing this morn- 
 ing. It must have been very pleasant, especially for her; for 
 she is mad about such things. What a curious girl she is, to 
 be sure ! Don't you think so ?" 
 
 " I don't know what you mean by curious," said Ingram, 
 coldly. 
 
 " Well, you know, strange cdd unlike other people in 
 her ways and her fancies. Did I tell you about my aunt tak- 
 ing her to see some friends of hers at Norwood? No? 
 Well, Sheila had got out of the house somehow (I suppose 
 their talking did not interest her), and when they went in 
 search of her they found her in the cemetery, crying like a 
 child." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 "Why," said Lavender, with a smile, " merely because so 
 many people had died. She had never seen anything like 
 that before ; you know the small church-yards up in 
 Lewis, with their inscriptions in Norwegian and Danish and 
 German. I suppose the first sight of all the white stones at 
 Norwood was too much for her." 
 
 "Well, I don't see much of a joke in that," said Ingram. 
 
 "Who said there was any joke in it ?'' cried Lavender, im- 
 patiently. " I never knew such a cantankerous fellow as you 
 are. You are always fancying I am finding fault with Sheila, 
 and I never do anything of the kind. She is a very good 
 girl indeed. I have every reason to be satisfied with the way 
 ovr marriage has turned out." 
 
 " Has she P 
 
 The words were not important, but there was something in 
 
24 S A PRINCESS OF THULK. 
 
 the tone in which they were spoken that suddenly checked 
 Frank Lavender's careless flow of speech. He looked at 
 Ingram for a moment with some surprise, and then he said, 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Well, I will tell you what I mean," said Ingram, slowly, 
 " It is an awkward thing for a man to interfere between hus- 
 band and wife, I am aware he gets something else than 
 thanks for his pains, ordinarily but sometimes it has to be 
 done, thanks or kicks. Now, you know, Lavender, I had a 
 good deal to do with helping forward your marriage in the 
 North; and I don't remind you of that to claim anything in 
 the way of consideration, but to explain why I think I am 
 called on to speak to you now." 
 
 Lavender was at once a little frightened and a little irri- 
 tated. He half guessed what might be coming, from the 
 slow and precise manner in which Ingram talked. That 
 form of speech had vexed him many a time before, for he 
 would rather have had any amount of wild contention and 
 bandying about of reproacl^es than the calm, unimpassioned 
 and sententious setting forth of his shortcomings to which 
 this sallow little man was, perhaps, too much addicted. 
 
 "I suppose Sheila has been complaining to you, then?" 
 said Lavender, hotly. 
 
 " You may suppose what absurdities you like," said Ingram, 
 quietly; "but it would be a good deal better if you would 
 listen to me patiently, and deal in a common sense fashion 
 with what I have got to say. It is nothing very desperate. 
 Nothing has happened that is not of easy remedy, while the 
 remedy would leave you and her in a much better position, 
 both as regards your own estimation of yourselves and the 
 opinion of your friends. 
 
 " You are a little roundabout, Ingram," said Lavender, 
 " and ornate. But I suppose all lectures begin so. Go on." 
 
 Ingram laughed: " If I am too formal it is because I don't 
 want to make mischief by any exaggeration. Look here ! 
 A long time before you were married I warned you that 
 Sheila had very keen and sensitive notions about the duties 
 that people ought to perform, about the dignity of labor, 
 about the proper occupations of a man, and so forth. These 
 notions you may regard as romantic and absurd, if you like, 
 but you might as well try to change the color of her eyes as 
 attempt to alter any of her beliefs in that direction," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 249 
 
 "And she thinks that I am idle and indolent because I 
 don't care what a washerwoman pays for her candles ? " said 
 Lavender, with -'mpetuous contempt. "Well, be it so. She 
 is welcome to her opinicn. But if she is grieved at heart be- 
 cause I can't make hob-nailed boots, it seems to me that she 
 might as well come aud complain to myself, instead of going 
 and detailing her wrongs to a third person, and calling for 
 his sympathy in the character of an injured w.fe." 
 
 For an instant the dark eyes of the man opposite hire 
 blazed with a quick fire, for a sneer at Sheila was worse that* 
 an insult to himself; but he kept quite calm, and said,, 
 " That, unfortunately, is not what is troubling her." 
 
 Lavender rose abruptly, took a turn up and down the* 
 empty room, and said, ''If there is anything the matter, J 
 prefer to hear it from herself. It is not respectful to me thai 
 she should call in a third person to humor her whims and 
 fancies." 
 
 "Whims and fancies !" said Ingram, with that dark light 
 returning to his eyes. " Do you know what you are talking 
 about? Do you know that while you are living on the char* 
 ity of a woman you despise, and dawdling about the skirts of 
 a woman who laughs at you, you are breaking the heart of a 
 girl who has not her equal in England ? Whims and fan^ 
 cies! Good God, I wonder how she ever could have " 
 
 He stopped, but the mischief was done. These were not 
 prudent words to come from a man who wished to step in as 
 a mediator between husband and wife; but Ingram's blaze 
 of wrath, kindled by what he considered the insufferable in- 
 solence of Lavender in thus speaking of Sheila, had swept all 
 notions of prudence before it. Lavender, indeed, was much 
 cooler than he was, and said, with an affectation of careless- 
 ness, " I am sorry you should vex yourself so much about 
 Sheila. One would think you had had the ambition your- 
 self, at some time or other, to play the part of husband to 
 her; and doubtless then you would have made sure that all 
 her idle fancies were gratified. As it is, I was about to re- 
 lieve you from the trouble of further explanation by saying 
 that I am quite competent to manage my own affairs, and 
 that if Sheila has any complaint to make she must make it 
 to me." 
 
 Ingram rose, and was silent for a moment. 
 
 "Lavender." he said, " it does not matter much whether 
 
250 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 you and I quarrel I was prepared for that, in any case but 
 I ask you to give Sheila a chance of telling you what I had 
 intended to tell you." 
 
 " Indeed, I shall do nothing of the sort. I never invite 
 confidence. When she wishes to tell me anything she knows 
 I am ready to listen. But I am quite satisfied with the posi* 
 tion of affairs as they are at present." 
 
 i "God help you, then!" said his friend, and went away, 
 scarcely daring to confess to himself how dark the future 
 looked. 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 EXCHANGES. 
 
 JUST as Frank Lavender went down stairs to meet Ingram, 
 a letter which had been forwarded from London was brought 
 to Sheila. It bore the Lewis postmark, and she guessed it 
 was from Duncan, for she had told Mairi to ask the tall 
 keeper to write, and she knew he would hasten to obey her 
 request at any sacrifice of comfort to himself. Sheila sat 
 down to read the letter in a happy frame of mind. She had 
 every confidence that all her troubles were about to be re- 
 moved, now that her good friend Ingram had come to her 
 husband ; and here was a message to her from her home, 
 that seemed, even before she read it, to beg of her to come 
 thither light-hearted and joyous. This was what she read: 
 
 " BORVAPOST, THE ISLAND OF LEWIS > 
 
 " the third Aug., 18 . 
 
 ' HONORED MRS. LAVENDER: It waz Mairi waz sayin that 
 you will want me to write to you, bit I am not good at tlv 
 
A PRINCESS OF* THtiLfi. 251 
 
 writin whatever, and it was 2 years since I was written to 
 Amerika, to John Ferkason that kept the tea-shop in Storno- 
 way, and was trooned in coming home the very last year be- 
 fore this. It waz Mairi will say you will like a letter as well 
 as any one that waz goin to Amerika, for the news and the 
 things, and you will be as far away from us as if you waz 
 living in Amerika or Glaska. But there is not much news, 
 for the lads they hev all pulled up the boats, and they are 
 away to Wick, and Sandy McDougal that waz living by 
 Loch Langavat, he will be going too, for he waz up at the 
 sheilings when Mrs. Paterson's lasses was there with the cows, 
 and it waz Jeanie the youngest and him made it up, and he 
 haz twenty-five pounds in the bank, which is a good thing too 
 mirover for the young couple. It waz many a one waz sayin 
 when the cows and the sheep waz come home from the sheilings 
 that never afore waz Miss Sheila away from Lock Roag when 
 the cattle would be swimmin across the loch to the island ; and I 
 will say to many of them verra well you will waitand you will 
 see Miss Sheila back again in the Lews, and it wazna allwas 
 you would lif away from your own home where you waz born 
 and the people will know you from the one year to the next. 
 John McNichol of Habost he will be verra bad three months 
 or two months ago, and we waz thinkin he will die, and him 
 with a wife and five bairns too, and four cows and a cart, but 
 the doctor took a great dale of blood from him, and he is 
 now verra well whatever, though wakely on the legs. It 
 would hev been a bad thing if Mr. McNichol was dead, for 
 he will be verra good at pentin a door, and he has between 
 fifteen pounds and ten pounds in the bank at Stornoway, 
 and four cows, too, and a cart, and he is a ferra religious 
 man, and has great skill o' the psalm-tunes, and he toesna 
 get trunk now more as twice or as three times in the two 
 weeks. It was his dochter Betsy, a verra fine lass that waz 
 come to Borvabost, and it waz the talk among many that 
 Alister-nan-each he waz thinkin of making up to her, 
 but there will be a great laugh all over the island, 
 and she will be verra angry and say she will not have 
 him, no, if his house had a door of silfer to it, for she will 
 have no one that toesna go to the Caithness fishins wi the 
 other lads. It waz blew verra hard here the last night or two 
 or three. There is a great deal of salmon in the rivers; and 
 Mr. Mackenzie he will be going across to Grimersta the day 
 
after to-morrow, or the next day before that, and the Eng- 
 lish gentlemen have been there more as two or three weeks, 
 and they will be getting verra good sport whatever. Mairi 
 she will bewriten a letter to you to-morrow, Miss Sheila, and 
 she will be telling you all the news of the house. Maiii was 
 sayin she will be goin to London when the harvest was got 
 in, and Scarlett will say to her that no one will let her land 
 on the island again if she toesna bring you back with her to 
 the island and to your own house. If it waz not too much 
 trouble, Miss Sheila, it would be a proud day for Scarlett if 
 you waz send me a line or two lines to say if you will be 
 coming to the Lews this summer or before the winter is 
 over whatever. I remain, Honored Mrs. Lavender, your obe- 
 dient servant, " DUNCAN MACDONALD." 
 
 "This summer or winter," said Sheila to herself, with a 
 happy light on her face: " why not now?" Why should she 
 not go down stairs to the coffee-room of the hotel and 
 place this invitation in the hand of her husband and his 
 friend? Would not its garrulous simplicity recall to both of 
 them the island they used to find so pleasant? 
 Would not they suddenly resolve to leave London 
 and its ways and people, even this monotonous sea out there, 
 and speed away Northwardly till they came in sight of the 
 great and rolling Minch, with its majestic breadth of sky 
 and its pale blue islands lying far away at the horizon? Then 
 the happy landing at the Stornoway her father and Duncan 
 and Mairi all on the quay the rapid drive over to Loch 
 Roag. and the first glimpse of the rocky bays and clear 
 .water and white sand about Borva and Borvabost! And 
 Sheila would once more having cast aside this cumbrous 
 attire that she had to change so often, and having got out 
 that neat and simple costume that was so good for walking 
 or driving or sailing be proud to wait upon her guests, 
 and help Mairi in her household ways, and have a pretty 
 table ready for the gentlemen when they returned from the 
 shooting. 
 
 Her husband came up the hotel stairs and entered the 
 room. She rose to meet him, with the open letter in her 
 hand. 
 
 " Sheila," he said (and the light slowly died away from her 
 face), " I have something to ask of you." 
 
 She knew by the sound of his voice that she had nothing 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. $53 
 
 to hope; it was not the first time she had been disappointed, 
 and yet this time it seemed especially bitter somehow. The 
 awakening from these illusions was sudden. 
 
 She did not answer, so he said, in the same measured voice: 
 " I have to ask that you will have henceforth no communi- 
 cation with Mr. Ingram ; I do not wish him to come to the 
 house." 
 
 She stood for a moment, apparently not understanding the 
 meaning of what he said. Then, when the full force of this 
 decision and request came upon her, a quick color sprang to 
 her face, the cause of which, if it had been revealed to him 
 in words, would have considerably astonished her husband. 
 But that moment of doubt, of surprise, and of inward indig- 
 nation, was soon over. She cast down her eyes and said, 
 meekly: " Very well, dear." 
 
 It was now his turn to be astonished, and mortified as 
 well. He could not have believed it possible that she should 
 so calmly acquiesce in the dismissal of one of her dearest 
 friends. He had expected a more or less angry protest, if 
 not a distinct refusal, which would have given him an op- 
 portunity for displaying the injuries he conceived himself to 
 have suffered at their hands. Why had she not come to him- 
 self ? This man Ingram was presuming upon his ancient 
 friendship, and on the part he had taken in forwarding the 
 marriage up at Borva. He had always, moreover, been some- 
 what too much of a schoolmaster, with his severe judgments, 
 his sententious fashion of criticising and warning people, and 
 his readiness to prove the whole world wrong in order to show 
 himself to be right. All these and many other things Lav- 
 ender meant to say to Sheila so soon as she had protested 
 against his forbidding Ingram to come any more to the 
 house. But there was no protest. Sheila did not even 
 seem surprised. She went back to her seat by the window, 
 folded up Duncan's letter, and put it in her pocket; and then 
 she turned to look at the sea. 
 
 Lavender regarded her for a moment, apparently doubting 
 whether he should himself prosecute the subject; then he 
 turned and left the room. 
 
 Sheila did not cry or otherwise seek to compassionate 
 herself. Her husband had told her to do a certain thing, 
 and she would do it. Perhaps she had been imprudent in 
 having confided in Mr. Ingram, and if so, it was right that 
 
254 A PRINCESS OF* THULE. 
 
 she should be punished. But the regret and pain that lay 
 deep in her heart were that Ingram should have suffered 
 through her, and that she had no opportunity of telling him 
 that, though they might not see each other, she would never 
 forget her friendship for him, or cease to be grateful to him 
 for his unceasing and generous kindness to her. 
 
 Next morning Lavender was summoned to London by a 
 telegram which announced that his aunt was seriously ill. 
 He and Sheila got ready at once, left by a forenoon trairi r 
 had some brief luncheon at home, and then went to see the 
 old lady in Kensington Gore. During their journey Lavender 
 had been rather more kind and courteous toward Sheila than 
 was his wont. Was he pleased that she had so readily 
 obeyed him in this matter of giving up about the only friend 
 she had in London, or was he moved by some visitation of 
 compunction ? Sheila tried to show that she was grateful for 
 his kindness, but there was that between them which could 
 not be removed by chance phrases or attentions. 
 
 Mrs. Lavender was in her own room. Palerson brought 
 word that she wanted to see Sheila first alone; so Lavender 
 sat down in the gloomy drawing-room by the window, and 
 watched the people riding or driving past, and the sunshine 
 on the dusty green trees in the Park. 
 
 "Is Frank Lavender below ?" said the thin old woman, 
 who was propped up in bed, with some scarlet garment 
 around her, that made her resemble more than ever the 
 cockatoo of which Sheila had thought on first seeing her. 
 
 "Yes," said Sheila. 
 
 '"I want to see you alone. I can't bear him dawdling 
 about a room and staring at things, and saying nothing. 
 Does he speak to you ? " 
 
 Sheila did not wish to enter into any controversy about 
 the habits of her husband, so she said: " I hope you will see 
 him before he goes, Mrs. Lavender. He is very anxious to 
 know how you are, and I am glad to find you looking so 
 well You do not look like an invalid at all." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not going to die yet," said the little dried old 
 woman, with the harsh voice, the staring eyes, and the 
 tightly twisted gray hair. " I hope you didn't come to read 
 the Bible to me ; you wouldn't find one about, in any case, I 
 should think. If you like to sit down and read the sayings 
 of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus, I should enjoy that; but 1 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 2 55 
 
 suppose you are too busy thinking what dress you'll wear at 
 my funeral." 
 
 " Indeed, I was thinking of no such thing," said Sheila, 
 indignantly, but feeling all the same that the hard, glittering, 
 expressionless eyes were watching her. 
 
 " Do you think I believe you ?" said Mrs. Lavender. 
 "Bah ! I hope I am able to recognize the facts of life. If 
 you were to die this afternoon, I should get a black silk, 
 trimmed with crape, the moment I got on my feet again, 
 and go to your funeral in the ordinary way. I hope you 
 will pay me the same respect. Do you think I am afraid to 
 speak of these things ?" 
 
 " Why should you speak of them?" said Sheila, despair- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Because it doet you good to contemplate the worst that 
 can befall you, and if it does not happen you may rejoice. 
 And it will happen. 1 know I shall be lying in this bed, with 
 half a dozen of you around about trying to cry, and wonder- 
 ing which will have the courage to turn and go out of the 
 room firs':. Then there will be the funeral day, and Paterson 
 will be careful about the blinds, and go about the house on 
 her tip-toes, as if I were likely to hear ! Then there will be 
 a pretty service up in the cemetery, and a man who never 
 saw me will speak of his dear sister departed; and then 
 you'll all go home and have your dinner. Am I afraid of 
 it?" 
 
 " Why should you talk like that?" said Sheila, piteously. 
 " You are not going to die. You distress yourself and others 
 by thinking of those horrible things." 
 
 "My dear child, there is nothing horrible in nature. 
 Everything is part of the universal system which you should 
 recognize and accept. If you had but trained yourself now, 
 by the study of philosophical works, to know how helpless 
 you are to alter the facts of life, and how it is the best wis- 
 dom to be prepared for the worst, you would find nothing 
 horrible in thinking of your own funeral. You are not look- 
 ing well." 
 
 Sheila was startled by the suddenness of the announce- > 
 ment : " Perhaps I am a little tired with the traveling we 
 have done to-day." 
 
 " Is Frank Lavender kind to you?" 
 
 What was she to say with those two eyes scanning her 
 
256 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 face ? " It is too soon to expect him to be anything else." 
 she said, with ah effort at a smile. 
 
 "Ah! So you are beginning to talk in that way? I 
 thought you were full of sentimental notions of life when you 
 came to London. It is not a good place for maturing such 
 things." 
 
 : " It is not," said Sheila, surprised into a sigh. 
 / " Come nearer. Don't be afraid I shall bite you. I am 
 not so ferocious as I look." 
 
 Sheila rose and went closer to the bedside, and the old 
 woman stretched out a lean and withered hand to her : "If 
 I thought that that silly fellow wasn't behaving well to 
 'you " 
 
 " I will not listen to you," said Sheila, suddenly withdraw- 
 ing her hand, while a quick color leapt to her face " I will 
 not listen to you if you speak of my husband in that way." 
 
 " I will speak of him any way I like. Don't get into a rage. 
 I have known Frank Lavender a good deal longer than you 
 have. What I was going to say is this, that if I thought he 
 was not behaving well to you, I would play. him a trick. I 
 would leave my money, which is all he has got to live on, to 
 you; and when I died he would find himself dependent on 
 you for every farthing he wanted to spend." 
 
 And the old woman laughed, with very little of the weak- 
 ness of an invalid in the look of her face. But Sheila, 
 when she had mastered her surprise and resolved not to be 
 angry > said calmly, " Whatever I have, whatever I might 
 have, that belongs to my husband, not to me." 
 
 "Now you speak like a sensible girl," said Mrs. Lavender. 
 " That is the misfortune of a wife, that she cannot keep her 
 own money to herself. But there are means by which the 
 law may be defeated, my dear. I have been thinking it 
 over I have been speaking of it to Mr. Ingram; for I 
 have suspected for some time that my nephew, Mr. Frank, 
 was not behaving himself." 
 
 " Mrs. Lavender," said Sheila, with a face too proud and 
 indignant for tears, " you do not understand me. No one 
 has the right to imagine anything against my husband and to 
 seek to punish him through me. And. when I said that 
 everything I have belongs to him, I was not thinking of the 
 law no but only this: that everything I have, or might 
 have, would belong to him, as I myself belong to him, of my 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 257 
 
 own free will and gift; and I would have no money or any- 
 thing else that was not entirely his. 
 
 "You are a fool." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Sheila, struggling to repress her tears. 
 
 " What if I were to leave every farthing of my property to 
 a hospital? Where would Frank Lavender be then ?" 
 
 " He could earn his own living without any such help," 
 said Sheila, proudly; for she had never yet given up the 
 hope that her husband would fulfill the fair promise of an 
 earlier time, and win great renown for himself in striving to 
 please her, as he had many a lime vowed he would do. 
 
 " He has taken great care to conceal his powers in that 
 way," said the old woman, with a sneer. 
 
 " And if he has, whose fault is it?" the girl said, warmly. 
 "Who has kept him in idleness but yourself? And now you 
 blame him for it. I wish he had never had any of your 
 money 1 wish he were never to have any more of it." 
 
 And then Sheila stopped, with a terrible dread falling over 
 her. What had she not said ? The pride of her race had 
 carried her so far, and she had given expression to all the 
 tumult of her heart; but had she not betrayed her duty as a 
 wife, and grievously compromised the interests of her hus- 
 band? And yet the indignation in her bosom was too strong 
 to admit of her retracting those fatal phrases and begging for- 
 giveness. She stood for a moment irresolute, and she knew 
 that the invalid was regarding her curiously, as though she 
 were some wild animal, and not an ordinary resident in 
 Bayswater. 
 
 "You are a little mad, but you are a good girl, and I wantl 
 to be friends with you. You have in you the spirit of a 
 dozen Frank Lavenders." 
 
 " You will never make friends with me by speaking ill of 
 my husband," said Sheila, with the same proud and indignant 
 look. 
 
 ' Not when he ill-uses you ? " 
 
 " He does not ill-use me. What has Mr. Ingram been 
 saying to you?" 
 
 The sudden question would certainly have brought about 
 a disclosure if any were to have been made; but Mrs. Laven- 
 der assured Sheila that Mr. Ingram had told her nothing, 
 that she had been forming her own conclusions, and that she 
 still doubted that they were right. 
 
258 A PRINCESS OB" THULE. 
 
 " Now sit down and read to me. You will find Marcus 
 Antoninus on the top of those books." 
 
 " Frank is in the drawing-room/' observed Sheila, mildly. 
 
 " He can wait, "said the old woman, sharply. 
 
 "Yes, but you cannot expect me to keep him waiting," 
 with a smile which did not conceal her very definite pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " Then ring, and bid him come up. You will soon get rid 
 of those absurd sentiments." 
 
 Sheila rang the bell, and sent Mrs. Paterson down for 
 Lavender, but she did not betake herself to Marcus Antoni- 
 nus. She waited a few minutes, and then her husband made 
 his appearance, whereupon she sat down and left to him the 
 agreeable duty of talking with this toothless old heathen 
 about funerals and lingering death. 
 
 "Well, Aunt Lavender, I am sorry to hear you have been 
 ill, but I suppose you are getting all right again, to judge by 
 your looks.'' 
 
 "I am not nearly as ill as you expected." 
 
 " I wonder you did not say 'hoped,'" remarked Laven- 
 der, carelessly. "You are always attributing the most char- 
 itable feelings to your fellow-creatures." 
 
 "Frank Lavender," said the old lady, who was a little 
 pleased by this bit of flattery, "if you come here to make 
 yourself impertinent and disagreeable, you can go down- 
 stairs again. Your wife and I get on very well without you." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," he said: "I suppose you have 
 been telling her what is the matter with you." 
 
 " I have not. I don't know. I have had a pain in the 
 head and two fits, and I dare say the next will carry me off. 
 The doctors won't tell me anything about it, so I suppose it 
 is serious." 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried Lavender. "Serious! To look at 
 you one would say you never had been ill in your life." 
 
 " Don't tell stories, Frank Lavender. I know I look like a 
 corpse, but I don't mind it, for I avoid the looking-glass, 
 and keep the spectacle for my friends. I expect the next fit 
 will kill me." 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is, Aunt Lavender, if you would only 
 get up and come with us for a drive in the Park, you would 
 find there was nothing of an invalid about you; and we 
 should take you home to a quiet dinner at Notting Hill, and 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULK. 2$$ 
 
 Sheila would sing to you all the evening, and to-inorrow you 
 would receive the doctors in state in your drawing-rooms, 
 and tell them you were going for a month to Malvern." 
 
 "Your husband has a fine imagination, my dear," said 
 Mrs. Lavender to Sheila. "It is a pity he puts it to no use. 
 Now I shall let both of you go. Three breathing in this 
 room are too many for the cubic feet of air it contains. 
 Frank, bring over those scales and put them on the table, 
 and send Paterson to me as you go out." 
 
 And so they went down stairs and out of the house. Just 
 as they stood on the steps, looking for a hansom, a young lad 
 came forward and shook hands with Lavender, glancing 
 nervously at Sheila. 
 
 " Well, Mosenberg," said Lavender, " you've come back 
 from Leipsic at last? We got your card when we came 
 home this morning from Brighton. Let me introduce you 
 to my wife." 
 
 The boy looked at the beautiful face before him with 
 something of a distant wonder and reverence in his regard. 
 Sheila had heard of the lad before of the Mendelssohn that 
 was to be and liked his appearance at first sight. He was 
 a rather handsome boy of fourteen or fifteen, of the fair Jew 
 type, with large, dark, expressive eyes, and long, wavy, 
 light-brown hair. He spoke English fluently and well; his 
 slight German accent was, indeed, scarcely so distinct as 
 Sheila's Highland one, the chief peculiarity of his speaking 
 being a preference for short sentences, as if he were afraid to 
 venture upon elaborate English. He had not addressed a 
 dozen sentences to Sheila before she had begun to have a 
 liking for the lad, perhaps on account of his soft and mu- 
 sical voice, perhaps on account of the respectful and almost 
 wondering admiration that dwelt in his eyes. He spoke to 
 her as if she were some saint, who had but to smile to charm 
 - and bewilder the humble worshipper at her shrine. 
 
 " I was intending to call upon Mrs. Lavender, madame," 
 he said. " I heard that she was ill. Perhaps you can tell me 
 if she is better." 
 
 " She seems to be very well to-day, and in very good 
 spirits," Sheila answered. 
 
 " Then I will not go in. Did you propose to take a walk in 
 the Park, madame?" 
 
 Lavender inwardly laughed at the audacity of the lad, and, 
 
2<JO A PRINCESS OF THULE, 
 
 seeing that Sheila hesitated, humored him by saying, " Well, 
 we were thinking of calling on one or two people before going 
 home to dinner. But 1 haven't seen you for a long time, 
 Mosenberg, and I want you to tell me how you succeeded at 
 the Conservatoire. If you like to walk with us for a bit, we 
 can give you something to eat at seven." 
 
 " That would be very pleasant for me," said the boy, 
 blushing somewhat, "if it does not incommode you, 
 madame?" 
 
 " Oh, no; I hope you will come," said Sheila, most hearti- 
 ly; and so they set out for a walk through Kensington Gar- 
 dens, northward. 
 
 Precious little did Lavender learn about Leipsic during 
 that walk. The boy devoted himself wholly to Sheila. He 
 had heard frequently of her, and he knew of her coming from 
 the wild and romantic Hebrides; and he began to tell her of 
 all the experiments that composers had made in representing 
 the sound of seas and storms, and winds howling through 
 caverns washed by the waves. Lavender liked music well 
 enough, and could himself play and sing a litile, but this en- 
 thusiasm rather bored him. He wanted to know if the yel- 
 low wine was still as cool and clear as ever down in the 
 twilight of Auerbach's cellar, what burlesques had lately been 
 played at the theatre, and whether such and such a beer- 
 garden was still to the fore; whereas, he heard only analyses 
 of overtures, and descriptions of the uses of particular musical 
 instruments, and a wild rhapsody about moonlit seas, the 
 sweetness of Fiench horns, the King of Thule, and a dozen 
 other matters. 
 
 "Mosenberg," he said, "before you go calling on people 
 you ought to visit an English tailor. People will think you 
 belong to a German band." 
 
 " I have been to a tailor," said the lad, with a frank laugh. 
 " My parents, madame, wish me to be quite English; that is 
 why I am sent to live in London, while they are in Frank- 
 fort. I s'ay with some very good friends of mine, who are 
 very musical, and they are not annoyed by my practising, as 
 other people would be." 
 
 " I hope you will sing something to us this evening," said 
 Sheila. 
 
 "I will sing and play for you all the evening," he said, 
 lightly, " until you are tired. But you must tell me when yoq 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. z6\ 
 
 re tired, foi who can tell how much music will be enough ? 
 Sometimes two or three songs are more than enough to make 
 people wish you away." 
 
 "You need have no fear of tiring me,'' said Sheila. " But 
 when you are tire'd I will sing for you." 
 
 " Yes, of course you sing, madame," he said, casting down 
 fris eyes: " I knew that when I saw you." 
 
 Sheila had got a sweetheart, and Lavender saw it and 
 smiled good-naturedly. The awe and reverence with which 
 this lad regarded the beautiful woman beside him, was 
 something new and odd in Kensington Gardens. Yet it was 
 the way of those boys. He had himself had his imaginative fits 
 of worship, in which some very ordinary young woman, who 
 ate a good breakfast and spent an hour and a half in arrang- 
 ing her hair before going out, was regarded as some beauti- 
 ful goddess fresh risen from the sea, or decended from the 
 clouds. Young Mosenberg was just at the proper age for 
 these foolish dreams. He could sing songs to Sheila, and 
 reveal to her in that way a passion of which he dared not 
 otherwise speak. He would compose pieces of music for 
 her, and dedicate them to her, and spend half his quarterly 
 allowance in having them printed. He would grow to con- 
 sider him, Lavender, a heartless brute, and cherish dark 
 notions of poisoning him, but for the pain it might cause to 
 her. 
 
 " I don't remember whether you smoke, Mosenberg," 
 Lavender said, after dinner. 
 
 "Yes a cigarette sometimes," said the lad; " but if Mrs. 
 Lavender is going away perhaps she will let me go into the 
 drawing-room with her. There is that sonata of Muzio Cle- 
 menti, madame, which I will try to remember for you if you 
 please.'' 
 
 "All right," said Lavender; " you'll find me in the next 
 room on the left when you will get tired of your music and 
 want a cigar. I think you used to beat me at chess, didn't 
 you?" 
 
 " I do not know. We will try once more to-night." 
 
 Then Sheila and he went into the drawing-room by them- 
 selves, and while she took a seat near the brightly-lit fire- 
 place, he opened the piano at once and sat down. He 
 turned up his cuffs, he took a look at the pedals, he threw 
 back his head, shaking his long brown hair; and then, with 
 
262 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 a crash like thunder, his two hands struck the keys. He had 
 forgotten all about that sonata; it was a fantasia of his own, 
 based on the airs in Der Freischutz, that he played; and as 
 he played Sheila's poor little piano suffered somewhat. Never 
 before had it been so battered about, and she wished the small 
 chamber were a great hall to temper the voluminous noise of 
 this opening passage. But presently the music softened. 
 The white, lithe fingers ran lightly over the keys, so that the 
 notes seemed to ripple out like the prattling of a stream, and 
 then again some stately and majestic air or some joyous 
 burst of song would break upon this light accompaniment, 
 and lead up to another roar and rumble of noise. It was a 
 very fine performance, doubtless, but what Sheila remarked 
 most was the enthusiasm of the lad. She was to see more of 
 that. 
 
 "Now," he said, " that is nothing. It is to get one's fin- 
 gers accustomed to the keys you play anything that is loud 
 and rapid. But if you please, madame, shall I sing you 
 something?" 
 
 "Yes, do,'' said Sheila. 
 
 " I will sing for you a little German song which, I believe, 
 Jenny Lind used to sing; but I never heard her sing. You 
 know German?" 
 
 "Very little, indeed." 
 
 " This is only the cry of some one who is far away about 
 his sweetheart. It_is very simple, both in the words and the 
 music." 
 
 And he began to sing, in a voice so rich, so tender and ex- 
 pressive that Sheila sat amazed and bewildered to hear him. 
 Where had this boy caught such a trick of passion, or was it 
 really a trick that ( threw into his voice all the pathos of a 
 strong man's love and grief? He had a powerful baritone, 
 of unusual compos and rare sweetness; but it was not the 
 finely-trained art of his singing, but the passionate abandon- 
 ment of it, that thrilled Sheila, and, indeed, brought tears to 
 her eyes. How had this mere lad learned all the yearnin| 
 and despair of love that he sang ? 
 
 Dir debt die Brust, 
 
 Dir schlagt dies Herz. 
 
 Du meine Lust ! 
 
 O du, mein Schmerz ! 
 
 Nur an den Winden, den Sternen der H6h/ 
 Muss ich verkiinden mein susses Weh ! 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 263 
 
 as though his heart were breaking ? When he had finished 
 he paused for a moment or two before leaving the piano, and 
 then he came over to where Sheila sat. She fancied there 
 was a strange look in his face, as of one who had been really 
 experiencing the wild emotions of which he sang; but he said, 
 in his ordinary, careful way of speaking, " Madame, I am 
 sorry I cannot translate the words for you Into English. 
 They are too simple; and they have, what is common in most 
 German songs, a mingling of the pleasure and the sadness of 
 being in love, that would not read natural perhaps in Eng- 
 lish. When he says to her that she is his greatest delight 
 and also his greatest grief, it is quite right in the German, 
 but not in the English." 
 
 "But where have you learned all these things?" she said 
 to him, talking to him as if he were a mere child, and look- 
 ing without fear into his handsome boyish face and fine 
 eyes. " Sit down and tell me. That is the song of some 
 one whose sweetheart is far away, you said. But you sang it 
 as if you yourself had some sweetheart far away." 
 
 "Sol have, madame," he said, seriously: "when I sing 
 the song, I think of her then, so that I almost cry for her." 
 
 " And who is she?" said Sheila, gently. Is she very far 
 away?" 
 
 "I do not know," said the lad, absently. "I do not 
 know who she is. Sometimes I think she is a beautiful 
 woman away at St. Petersburg, singing in the opera house 
 there. Or I think she has sailed away in a ship from me." 
 
 " But you do not sing about any particular person?" said 
 Sheila, with an innocent wonder appearing in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all," said the boy; and then he added, 
 with some suddeness, " Do you think, madame, any fine 
 songs like that, or any fine words that go to the heart of peo- 
 ple are written about any one person? Oh, no ! The man 
 has a great desire in him to say something beautiful or sad, 
 and he says it not to one person, but to all the world; and 
 all the world takes it from him as a gift. Sometimes, yes, he 
 will think of one woman, or he will dedicate the music to 
 her, or he will compose it for her wedding, but the feeling in 
 his heart is greater than any that he has for her. Can you 
 believe, madame, that Mendelssohn wrote the Hochzeitm 
 the Wedding Ma-ch for any one wedding? No. It was 
 all :!ie marriage joy of the world he put into his music, and 
 
264 A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 every one knows that. And you hear it at this wedding, at 
 that wedding, but you know it belongs to something far 
 away and more beautiful than the marriage of any one bride 
 with her sweetheart. And if you will pardon me, madame, 
 speaking about myself, it is about some one I never knew, who 
 * is far more beautiful and precious to me than any one I ever 
 knew, that I try to think when I sing these sad songs, and 
 then I think of her far away, and not likely ever to see me 
 again." 
 
 " But some day you will find that you have met her in real 
 life,' 1 Sheila said. "And you will find her far more beautiful 
 and kind to you than anything you dreamed about; and you 
 will try to write your b st music to give to her. And then, 
 if you should be unhappy, you will find how much worse is 
 the real unhappiness about one you love than the sentiment 
 of a song you can lay aside at any moment." 
 
 The lad looked at her. "What can you know about un- 
 happiness, madame?" he said, with a frank and gentle sim- 
 plicity that she liked. 
 
 "I," said Sheila. " When people get married and begin to 
 experience the cares of the world, they must expect to be 
 unhappy sometimes.'' 
 
 " But not you," he said, with some touch of protest in his 
 voice, as if it were impossible the world should deal harshly 
 with so young and beautiful and tender a creature. "You 
 can have nothing but enjoyment around you. Every one 
 must try to please you. You need only condescend to 
 speak to people, and they are grateful to you for a great fa- 
 vor. Perhaps, madame, you think I am impertinent?" 
 
 He stopped and blushed, while Sheila, herself with a little 
 'couch of color, answered him that she hoped he would al- 
 ways speak to her quite frankly, and then suggested that he 
 might sing once more for her. 
 
 " Very well," he said, as he sat down to the piano: " this 
 is not any more a sad song. It is about a young lady who 
 will not let her sweetheart kiss her, except on conditions. 
 You shall hear the conditions, and what he says." 
 
 Sheila began to wonder whether this innocent-eyed lad 
 had been imposing on her. The song was acted as well as 
 sung. It consisted chiefly of a dialogue between the two 
 lovers; and the boy, with a wonderful ease and grace and 
 skill, mimicked the shy coquetries of the girl, her fits of petu 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE, 265 
 
 lance and dictation, and the pathetic remonstrances of her 
 companion, his humble entreaties and his final sullenness, 
 which is only conquered by her sudden and ample consent. 
 "What a rare faculty of artistic representation this preco- 
 cious boy must have," she thought, "if he really exhibits all 
 those moods and whims and tricks of manner without having 
 himself been in the position of the despairing and imploring 
 lover !" 
 
 "You were not thinking of the beautiful lady in St. Pe- 
 tersburg when you were singing just now," Sheila said, on 
 his coming back to her. 
 
 "Oh, no," he said, carelessly; "that is nothing. You 
 have not to imagine anything. These people, you see them 
 on every stage in the comedies and farces." 
 
 " But that might happen in actual life," said Sheila, still 
 not quite sure about him. "Do you know that many people 
 would think you must have yourself been teased in that way, 
 or you could not imitate it so naturally?" 
 
 ' I! Oh, no, madame," he said, seriously; "I should not 
 act that way if I were in love with a woman. If I found her 
 a comedy-actress,likingto make her amusement out of our rela- 
 tions, I should say to her: 'Good-evening, mademoiselle; 
 we have both made a little mistake.' " 
 
 " But you might be so much in love with her that you 
 could not leave her without being very miserable." 
 
 " I might be very much in love with her, yes; but I would 
 rather go away and be miserable than be humiliated by such 
 a girl. Why do you smile, madame ? Do you think I am 
 vain, or that I am too young to know anything about that? 
 Perhaps both are true, but one cannot help thinking." 
 
 " Well," said Sheila, with a grandly maternal air of sym- 
 pathy and interest, "you must always remember this that 
 you have something more important to attend to than merely 
 looking out for a beautiful sweetheart. That is the fancj* 
 of a foolish girl. You have your profession, and you must 
 become great and famous in that; and then some day, when 
 you meet this beautiful woman and ask her to be your wife, 
 she will be bound to do that, and you will confer honor on 
 her as well as secure happiness to yourself. Now, if you 
 were to fall in love with some coquettish girl like her you 
 were singing about, you would have no more ambition to be- 
 come famous, you would lose all interest in everything except 
 
266 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 her, and she would be able to make you miserable by a single 
 word. When you have made a name for yourself, and got a 
 good many more years, you will be better able to bear any- 
 thing that happens to you in your love or in your marriage.'* 
 
 " You are very kind to take so much trouble," said young 
 Mosenberg, looking up with big, grateful eyes. 
 
 "Perhaps, madame, if you are not very busy during the 
 day, you will let me call in sometimes, and if there is no one 
 here I will tell you about what lam doing, and play for you 
 or sing for you, if you please." 
 
 " In the afternoons I am always free," she said. 
 
 " Do you never go out ?" he asked. 
 
 " Not often. My husband is at his studio most of the 
 day." 
 
 The boy looked at her, hesitated for a moment, and then 
 said, with a sudden rush of color to his face, " You should 
 not stay so much in the house. Will you some- 
 times go for a little walk with me, madame, to Kensington 
 Gardens, if you are not busy in the afternoon ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly," said Sheila, without a moment's em- 
 barrassment. " Do you live near them ?" 
 
 "No; I live in Sloane Street, but the underground 
 railways brings me here in a very short time." 
 
 That mention of Sloane Street gave a twinge to Sheila's 
 heart. Ought she have been so ready to accept offers of 
 new friendship just as her old friend had been banished 
 from her ? 
 
 " In Sloane Street ? Do you know Mr. Ingram ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, very well. Do you ?" 
 
 "He is one of my oldest friends," said Sheila, bravely; 
 she would not acknowledge that their intimacy was a thing 
 of the past. 
 
 " He is a very good friend to me I know that," said 
 young Mosenberg, with a laugh. " He hired a piano merely 
 because I used to go into his rooms at night; and now he 
 makes me play over my most difficult music when I go in, 
 and he sits and smokes a pipe and pretends to like it. I do 
 not think he does, but I have got to do it all the same, and 
 then afterward I sing for him songs that I know he likes. 
 Madame, I think I can surprise you." 
 
 He went to the piano and began to sing, in a very quiet 
 way: 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 267 
 
 Oh soft be thy slumbers by Tigh-na-linne's waters; 
 
 Thy late-wake was sung by MacDiarmid's fair daughters; 
 
 But far in Lochaber the true heart was weeping, 
 
 Whose hopes are entombed in the grave where thou'rt sleeping. 
 
 It was the lament of the young girl whose lover had been 
 separated from her by false reports, and who died before he 
 could get back to Lochaber when the deception was dis- 
 covered. And the wild, sad air the girl is supposed to sing 
 ,seemed so strange with those new chords that this boy-musi- 
 cian gave it, that Sheila sat down and listened to it as 
 though it were the sound of the seas about Borva coming to 
 her with a new voice and finding her altered and a stranger. 
 
 " I know nearly all of those Highland songs that Mr. In- 
 gram has got," said the lad. 
 
 " I did not know that he had any," Sheila said. 
 
 " Sometimes he tries to sing one himself," said the boy, 
 with a smile, " but he does not sing very well and he gets 
 vexed with himself in fun. and flings things about the room. 
 But you will sing some of these song>, madame, and let me 
 hear how they are sung in the North ?" 
 
 " Some time,'' said Sheila, " I would rather listen just now 
 to all you can tell me of Mr. Ingram he is such a very old 
 friend of mine, and I do not know how he lives." 
 
 The lad speedily discovered that there was at least one 
 way of keeping his new and beautiful friend profoundly in- 
 terested; and, indeed, he went on talking until Lavender 
 came into the room in evening dress. It was eleven o'clock, 
 and young Mosenberg started up with a thousand apologies 
 and hopes that he had not detained Mrs. Lavender. No, 
 Mrs. Lavender was not going out; her husband was going 
 around for an hour to a ball that Mrs. Kavanagh was giving, 
 but she preferred to stay at home. 
 
 " May I call upon you to-morrow afternoon, madame ?" 
 said the boy, as he was leaving. 
 
 " I shall be very glad if you will," Sheila answered. 
 
 And as he went along the pavement young Mosenberg ob- 
 served to his companion that Mrs. Lavender did not seem to 
 have gone out much, and that it was very good of her to 
 have promised to go with him occasionally into Kensington 
 Gardens, 
 
 " Oh, has she?" said Lavender. 
 
 "Yes," said the lad, with some surprise. 
 
268 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " You are lucky to be able to get her to leave the house," 
 her husband said ; "I can't." 
 
 Perhaps he had not tried so much as the words seemed to 
 imply. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 GUESSES. 
 
 " MR. INGRAM," cried young Mosenberg, bursting into the 
 room of his friend, " do you know that I have seen your 
 princess from the island of the Atlantic ? Yes, I met hejr 
 yesterday, and I went up to the house, and I dined there and 
 spent all the evening there." 
 
 Ingram was not surprised, nor, apparently, much inter- 
 ested. He was cutting open the leaves of a quarterly review, 
 and a freshly-filled pipe lay on the table beside him. A fire 
 had been lit, for the evenings were getting chill occasional- 
 ly; the shutters were shut; there was some whiskey on the 
 table; so that this small apartment seemed to have its share 
 of bachelor's comforts. 
 
 " Well," said Ingram quietly, " did you play for her?" 
 
 yes." 
 
 "And sing for her, too?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Did you play and sing your very best for her?" 
 
 " Yes, I did. But I have not told you half yet. This aft- 
 ernoon I went up, and she went out for a walk with me; and 
 we went down through Kensington Gardens, and all around 
 by the Serpentine 
 
 "Did she go into that parade of people?" said Ingram, 
 looking up with some surprise. 
 
 "No," said the lad, looking rather crestfallen, for he 
 would have liked to show off Sheila to some of his friends; 
 "she would not go; she preferred to watch the small boats 
 on the Serpentine, and she was very kind, too, in speaking 
 to the children, and helping them with their boats, although 
 some people stared at her. And what is more than all these 
 things, to-morrow night she comes with me to a concert in 
 the St. James' Hall yes." 
 
 " You are very fortunate," said Ingram, with a smile ; for 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 269 
 
 he was well pleased to hear that Sheila had taken a fancy to 
 the boy, and was likely to find his society amusing. " But 
 you have not told me yet what you think of her." 
 
 " What I think of her?'' said the lad, pausing in a be- 
 wildered way, as if he could find no words to express his 
 opinion of Sheila. And then he said suddenly, " I think she 
 is like the Mother of God." 
 
 " You irreverent young rascal !" said Ingram, lighting his 
 pipe, " how dare you say such a thing ? 
 
 " I mean in the pictures in the tall pictures you see 
 in some churches abroad, far up in a half darkness. She 
 has the same sweet, compassionate look, and her eyes are 
 sometimes a little sad; and when she speaks to you, you think 
 you have known her for a long time, and that she wishes to 
 be very kind to you. But she is not a princess at all, as you 
 told me. I expected to find her a grand, haughty, willful yes. 
 but she is much too friendly for that; and when she laughs 
 you see she could n:>t sweep about a room and stare at peo- 
 ple. But if she was angry or proud, perhaps then 
 
 " See you don't make her angry, then," said Ingram. 
 " Now go and play over all you were practicing in the morn- 
 ing. No ? stop a bit. Sit down and tell me something more 
 about your experiences of Shei of Mrs. Lavender." 
 
 Young Mosenberg laughed, and sat down ; " Do you know, 
 Mr. Ingram, that the same thing occured the night before 
 last ? I was about to sing some more, or I was asking Mrs. 
 Lavender to sing some more I forget which but she said 
 to me, ' Not just now. I wish you to sit down and tell me 
 all you know about Mr. Ingram.' " 
 
 "And she no sooner honors you with her confidence than 
 you carry it to every one ?" said Ingram, somewhat fearful 
 of the boy's tongue. 
 
 " Oh, as to that," said the lad, delighted to see that his 
 friend was a little embarrassed; "as to that, I believe she 
 is in love with you.'' 
 
 " Mosenberg," said Ingram with a flash of anger in the 
 dark eyes, "if you were half a dozen years older I would 
 thrash the life out of you. Do you think that is a pretty 
 sort of joke to make about a woman ? Don't you know 
 
 e mischief your gabbling tongue might make? for how is 
 every one to know that you are talking merely impertinent 
 nonsense ?" 
 
270 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Oh," said the boy, audaciously, " I did not mean any. 
 thing of the kind you see in comedies or in operas, breaking 
 up marriages and causing duels. Oh, no. I think she is in 
 love with you, as I am in love with her; and I am, ever since 
 yesterday." 
 
 " Well, I will say this ior you," remarked Ingram, slowly, 
 " that you are the cheekiest young beggar I have the pleasure 
 to know. You are in love with her, are you? A lady admits 
 you to her house, is particularly kind to you, talks to you in 
 confidence, and then you go and tell people you are in love 
 with her !" 
 
 "I did not tell people,' 1 said Mosenberg, flushing under 
 
 the severity of the reproof; "I told you only, and I thought 
 
 you would understand what I meant. I should have told 
 
 Lavender himself just as soon yes ; only he would not care." 
 
 " How do you know?" 
 
 ''Bah!" said the boy, impatiently. "Cannot one see it? 
 You have a pretty wife much prettier than any one you 
 would see at a ball at Mrs. Kavanagh's and you leave her 
 at home, and you go to the ball to amuse yourself." 
 
 This boy, Ingrain perceived, was getting to see too clearly 
 how matters stood. He bade him go and play some music, 
 having first admonished him gravely about the necessity of 
 keeping some watch and ward over his tongue. Then the 
 pipe was re-lit, and a fury of sound arose at the other end of 
 the room. 
 
 So Lavender, forgetful of the true-hearted girl who loved 
 him, forgetful of his own generous instincts, forgetful of the 
 future that his fine abilities promised, was still dangling after 
 this alien woman, and Sheila was left at home, with her 
 troubles and piteous yearnings and fancies as her only com- 
 panions? Once upon a time Ingram could have gone 
 straight up to him and admonished him, and driven him to 
 mend his ways. But now that was impossible. 
 
 What was still possible ? One wild project occurred to him 
 for a moment, but he laughed at it and dismissed it. It was 
 that he should go boldly to Mrs. Lorraine herself, ask her 
 plainly if she knew what cruel injury she was doing to this 
 young wife, and force her to turn Lavender adrift. But 
 what enterprise of the days of old romance could be com- 
 pared with this mad proposal ? To ride up to a castle, blow 
 a trumpet, and announce that unless a certain lady were re 
 
A PRINCESS OF THirLfc. 271 
 
 teased forthwith, death and destruction would begin all that 
 was simple enough, easy and according to rule; but to go 
 into a lady's drawing-room without an introduction, and 
 request her to stop a certain flirtation that was a much more 
 awful undertaking. But ingram could not altogether dismiss 
 this notion from his head. Mosenberg went on playing no 
 longer his practising-pieces, but all manner of airs which he 
 knew Ingram liked while the small, sallow man with the 
 brown beard lay in his easy-chair and smoked his pipe, and 
 gazed attentively at his toes on the fender. 
 
 ''You know Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter, don't you, 
 Mosenberg ?" he said, during an interval in the music. 
 
 "Not much," said the boy. "They were in England 
 only a little while before I went to Leipsic." 
 
 " I should like to know them." 
 
 "That is very easy. Mr. Lavender will introduce you to 
 them. Mrs. Lavender said he went there very much." 
 
 "What would they do, do you think, if I went up and 
 asked to see them?" 
 
 " The servant would ask if it was about beer or coals tha^ 
 you called." 
 
 A man will do much for a woman who is his friend, but to 
 be suspected of being a brewer's traveler, to have to push 
 one's way into a strange drawing-room, to have to confront 
 the awful stare of the inmates, and then to have to deliver a 
 message which they will probably consider as the very ex- 
 treme of audacious and meddling impertinence! The pros- 
 pect was not pleasant, and yet Ingram, as he sat and thought 
 over it that evening, finally resolved to encounter all these 
 dangers and wounds. He could help Sheila in no other way. 
 He was banished from her house. Perhaps he might induce 
 this American girl to release her captive, and give Lavender 
 back to his own wife. What were a few twinges of one's 
 self-respect, or risks of a humiliating failure, compared with 
 the possibility of befriending Sheila in some small way ? 
 
 Next morning he went early into Whitehall, and about 
 one o'clock in the forenoon started off for Holland Park. 
 He wore a tall hat, a black frock-coat and yellow kid gloves. 
 He went in a hansom, so that the person who opened the 
 door should know that he was not a brewer's traveler. In 
 this wise he reached Mrs; Kavanagh's house, which Lavender 
 had frequently pointed out to nim in passing, about half-past 
 
4^4 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 one, and with some internal tremors, but muck outward 
 calmness, went up the broad stone steps. 
 
 A small boy in buttons opened the door. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Lorraine at home?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the boy. 
 
 It was the simplest thing in the world. In a few sec- 
 onds he found himself in a big drawing-room, and the youth 
 had taken his card up- stairs. Ingram was not very sure 
 whether his success, so far, was due to the hansom, or to his 
 tall hat, or to a silver-headed cane which his grandfather had 
 brought home from India. However, here he was in the 
 house, just like the hero of one of those fine old farces of our 
 youth, who jumps from the street into a strange drawing- 
 room, flirts with the maid, hides behind a screen, confronts 
 the master, and marries his daughter, all in half an hour, the 
 most exacting unities of time and place being faithfully ob- 
 served. 
 
 Presently the door was opened, and a young lady, pale 
 and calm and sweet of face, approached him, and not only 
 bowed to him, but held out her hand. 
 
 " I have much pleasure in making your acquaintance, Mr. 
 Ingram," she said, gently and somewhat slowly. '' Mr. 
 Lavender has frequently promised to bring you to see us, for 
 he has spoken to us so much about you that we begun to 
 think we already knew you. Will you come with me up 
 stairs, that I may introduce you to mamma?' 1 
 
 Ingram had come prepared to state harsh truths bluntly, 
 and was ready to meet any sort of anger or opposition with a 
 perfect frankness of intention. But he certainly had not 
 come prepared to find the smart-tongued and fascinating 
 American widow, of whom he had heard so much, a quiet, 
 self po sessed and gracious young lady, of singularly winning 
 manners, and clear and resolutely honest eyes. Had Lavendtr 
 been quite accurate, or even conscientious in his garrulous 
 taik ab nit Mrs. Lorraine? 
 
 ' If you will excuse me," said Ingram, with a smile that 
 had le^s of embarrassment about it than he could have ex- 
 pected, " I would rather speak to you for a few minutes first. 
 The fact is, I have come on a self-imposed errand ; and that 
 must be my apology for for thrusting myself " 
 
 " I am sure no apology is needed," said the girl. " We 
 have always been expecting to see you. Will you sit down?''- 
 
A PRINCESS of -rutiLB. 27; 
 
 He put his hat and his cane on the table, and as he did ro 
 he recorded a mental resolution not to be led away by the 
 apparent innocence and sweetness of this woman. What a 
 fool he had been to expect her to appear in the guise of 
 some forward and giggling coquette, as if Frank Lavender, 
 with all his faults, could have suffered anything like coarse- 
 ness of manners ! But was this woman any the less danger- 
 ous that she was refined and courteous, and had the speech 
 and bearing of a gentlewoman ? 
 
 " Mrs. Lorraine," he said, lowering his eyebrows somewhat, 
 " I may as well be frank with you. I have come upon an 
 unpleasant errand an affair, indeed, which ought to be no 
 business of mine; but sometimes, when you care a little for 
 some one, you don't mind running the risk of being treated as 
 anintermeddler. You know that I know Mrs. Lavender. She 
 is an old friend of mine. She was almost a child when I 
 knew her first, and I still have a sort of notion that she is a 
 child, and that I should look after her, and so and so " 
 
 She sat quite still. There was no surprise, no alarm, no 
 anger when Sheila's name was mentioned. She was merely 
 attentive, but now seeing that he hesitated, she said, "I do 
 not know what you have to say, but if it is serious, may not I 
 ask mamma to join us ?" 
 
 " If you please, no. I would rather speak with you alone, 
 as this matter concerns yourself only. Well, the fact is, I 
 have seen for some time back that Mrs. Lavender is very un- 
 hrppy. She is left alone; she knows no one in London ; per- 
 Kttps she does not care to join much in those social amuse- 
 ments that her husband enjoys. I say this poor girl is an old 
 friend of mine; I cannot help trying to do something to make 
 her less wretched; and so I have ventured to come to you to 
 see if you could assist me. Mr. Lavender comes very much 
 to your house, and Sheila is left all by herself; and doubtless 
 she begins to fancy that her husband is neglectful, perhaps 
 indifferent to her, and may get to imagine things that are 
 quite wrong, you know, and that could be explained away by 
 a little kindness on your part." 
 
 V/as this, then, the fashion in which Jonah had gone up to 
 curse the wickedness of Nineveh? As he had spoken he had 
 been aware that those sincere, somewhat matter-of-fact and 
 far from unfriendly eyes that were fixed on him, had under- 
 gone no change whatever. Here was no vile creature who 
 
tf4 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 would start up with a guilty conscience to repel the remotest 
 hint of an accusation; and indeed, quite unconsciously to 
 himself, he had been led on to ask for her help. Not that he 
 feared her. Not but that he could have said the harshest things 
 to her which there was any reason for saying. But somehow 
 there seemed to be no occasion for the utterance of any 
 cruel truths. 
 
 The wonder of it was, too, that instead of being wounded, 
 indignant and angry, as he had expected her to be, she be- 
 trayed a very friendly interest in Sheila, as though she herself 
 had nothing whatever to do with the matter. 
 
 " You have undertaken a very difficult task, Mr, Ingram," 
 she said with a smile. " I don't think there are many mar- 
 ried ladies in London who have a friend who would do as 
 much for them. And, to tell you the truth, both my mamma 
 and myself have come to the same conclusion as yourself 
 about Mr. Lavender. Is is really too bad, the way in which 
 he allows that pretty young thing to remain at home, for I 
 suppose she would go more into society if he were to coax 
 her and persuade her. We have done what we could in 
 sending her invitations, in calling on her, and in begging 
 Mr. Lavender to bring her with him. But he has always 
 some excuse for her, so that we never see her. And yet I 
 am sure he does not mean to give her pain ; for he is very 
 proud of her, and madly extravagant wherever she is con- 
 cerned; and sometimes he takes sudden fits of trying to 
 please her and be kind to her that are quite odd in their 
 way. Can you tell me what we should do?" 
 
 Ingram looked at her for a moment, and said gravely and 
 slowly, " Before we talk any more about that I must clear my 
 conscience. I perceive that I have done you a wrong, f 
 came here prepared to accuse you of drawing away Mr. Lav- 
 ender from his wife, of seeking amusement and perhaps some 
 social distinction, by keeping him continually dangling after 
 you; and I meant to reproach you, or even threaten you, 
 until you promised never to see him again." 
 
 A quick flush, partly of shame, partly of annoyance, sprang 
 to Mrs. Lorraine's fair and pale face; but she answered calm- 
 ly, " It is perhaps as well that you did not tell me this a few 
 minutes ago. May I ask what has led you to change your 
 opinion of me, if it has changed?" 
 
 " Of course it has changed," he said, promptly and em 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 275 
 
 phatically. " I can see that I did you a great injury, and I 
 apologize for it, and beg your forgiveness. But when you 
 ask me what has led me to change my opinion, what am I to 
 say ? Your manner, perhaps, more than what you have said 
 has convinced me that I was wrong." 
 
 " Perhaps you are again mistaken," she said coldly; "you 
 get rapidly to conclusions." 
 
 "The reproof is just, "he said. "You are quite right. I 
 have made a blunder; there is no mistake about it." 
 
 " But do you think it was fair," she said with some spirit 
 ' do you think it was fair to believe all this harm about a 
 woman you had never seen ? Now, listen. A hundred times 
 I have begged Mr. L avender to be more attentive to his wife 
 not in these words, of course, but as directly as I could. 
 Mamma has given parties, made arrangements for visits, 
 drives and all sorts of things, to tempt Mrs. Lavender to 
 come to us, and all in vain. Of course you can't thrust your- 
 self on any one like that. Though mamma and myself like 
 Mrs. Lavender very well, it is asking too much that we 
 should encounter the humiliation of intermeddling." 
 
 Here she stopped suddenly, with the least show of embar- 
 rassment. Then she said, frankly, "You are an old friend of 
 hers. It is very good of you to have risked so much for the 
 sake of that girl. There are very few gentlemen whom one 
 meets who would do as much." 
 
 Ingram could say nothing, and was a little impatient With 
 himself. Was he to be first reproved, and then treated with 
 an indulgent kindness by a mere girl? 
 
 " Mamma," said Mrs. Lorraine, as an elderly lady entered 
 the room, " let me introduce you to Mr. Ingram, whom you 
 must already know. He proposes we should join in some 
 conspiracy to inveigle Mrs. Lavender into society, and make 
 the poor little thing amuse herself." 
 
 "Little!" said Mrs. Kavanagh, with a smile; "she is a 
 good deal taller than you are, my dear. But I am afraid, 
 Mr. Ingram, you have undertaken a hopeless task. Will you 
 stay to luncheon and talk it over with us ?" 
 
 "I hope you will," said Mrs. Lorraine; and naturally 
 enough he consented. 
 
 Luncheon was just ready. As they were going into the 
 room on the opposite side of the hall, the younger lady said 
 to Ingram in a quiet undertone, but with much indifference 
 
27 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 of manner, " You know, if you think I ought to give up Mr. 
 Lavender's acquaintance altogether, I will do so at once. 
 But perhaps that will not be necessary." 
 
 So this was the house in which Sheila's husband spent so 
 much of his time, and these were the two ladies of whom so 
 much had been said and surmised? There were three of 
 Lavender's pictures on the walls of the dining-room, and as 
 Ingram inadvertently glanced at them, Mrs. Lorraine said to 
 him, "Don't you think it is a pity Mr. Lavender should 
 continue drawing those imaginative sketches of heads? I do 
 not think, myself, that he does himself justice in that way. 
 Some bits of landscape, now, that I have seen, seemed to me 
 to have quite a definite character about them, and promised 
 far more than anything else of his I have seen." 
 
 " That is precisely what I think," said Ingram, partly 
 amused and partly annoyed to find that this girl, with her 
 clear gray eyes, her soft and musical voice, and her singular 
 delicacy of manner, had an evil trick of saying the very 
 things he would himself have said, and leaving nim with 
 nothing but a helpless "Yes." 
 
 " I think he ought to have given up his club when he mar- 
 ried. Most English gentlemen do that when they marry, do 
 they not?" said Mrs. Kavanagh. 
 
 " Some," said Ingram. " But a good deal of nonsense is 
 talked about the influence of clubs in that way. It is really 
 absurd to suppose that the size or the shape of a building 
 can alter a man's moral character." 
 
 "It does, though," said Mrs. Lorraine confidently. "I 
 can tell directly if a gentleman has been accustomed to spend 
 his time in clubs. When he is surprised or angry or im- 
 patient, you can perceive blanks in his conversation which 
 in a club, I suppose, would be filled up. Don't you know 
 poor old Colonel Hannen's way of talking, mamma? This 
 old gentleman, Mr. Ingram, is very fond of speaking to you 
 about political liberty and the rights of conscience; and he 
 generally becomes so confused that he gets vexed with him- 
 self, and makes odd pauses, as if he were invariably address- 
 ing himself in very rude language indeed. Sometimes you 
 would think he was like a lailway engine, going blindly and 
 helplessly on through a thick and choking mist; and you can 
 see that if there were no ladies present he would let off a few 
 crackers fog-signals, as it were just to bring himself up a 
 
A PkiNCESS Of THULE. 277 
 
 bit, and let people know where he was. Then he will go on 
 again, talking away until you fancy yourself in a tunnel, 
 with a throbbing noise in your ears and all the daylight shut 
 out, and you perhaps getting to wish that on the whole you 
 were dead." 
 
 ''Cecilia!" 
 
 "I beg your pardon, mamma," said the younger lad y,| 
 with a quiet smile; "you look so sui prised that Mr. Ingram 
 will give me credit for not often erring in that way. You 
 look as though a hare had turned and attacked you." 
 
 "That would give most people a fright," said Ingram, 
 with a laugh. He was rapidly forgetting the object of his 
 mission. The almost childish softness of voice of this girl, 
 and the perfect composure with which she uttered little 
 sayings that showed considerable sharpness of observation 
 and a keen enjoyment of the grotesque, had an odd sort of 
 fascination for him. He totally forgot that Lavender had 
 been fascinated by it, too. If he had been reminded of the 
 fact at this moment, he would have said that the boy had, 
 as usual, got sentimental about a pretty pair of big gray eyes 
 and a fine profile, while he, Ingram, was possessed by nothing 
 but a purely intellectual admiration of certain fine qualities 
 of wit, sincerity of speech and womanly shrewdness. 
 
 Luncheon, indeed, was over before any mention was made 
 of the Lavenders; and when they returned to that subject it 
 appeared to Ingram that their relations had in the meantime 
 got to be very friendly, and that they were really discussing 
 this matter as if they formed a little family conclave. 
 
 " I have told Mr. Ingram, mamma," Mrs. Lorraine said, 
 "that so far as I am concerned I will do whatever he thinks 
 1 ought to do. Mr. Lavender has been a friend of ours for f 
 some time, and of course he cannot be treated with rudeness 
 or incivility; but if we are wounding the feelings of any one 
 by asking him to come here and he certainly visited us 
 pretty often why, it would be easy to lessen the number of 
 h.s calls. Is that what we should do, Mr. Ingram ? You 
 would not have us quarrel with him?" 
 
 "Especially," said Mrs. Kavanagh, with a smile, "that 
 there is no certainty he will spend more of h : s time with his 
 v'fe merely because he spends less of it here. And yet I 
 / ncy he is a very good-natured man." 
 
 " He is very good-natured," said Ingram, with decision. 
 
278 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "I have known him for years, and I know that he is exceed- 
 ingly unselfish, and that he would do a ridiculously generous 
 thing to serve a friend, and that a better-intentioned fellow 
 does not breathe in the world. But he is at times, I admit, 
 very thoughtless and inconsiderate." 
 
 '. "That sort of good-nature," said Mrs. Lorraine, in her 
 gentlest voice, "is very good in its way, but rather uncer- 
 tain. So long as it shines in one direction, it is all right and 
 quite trustworthy, for you want a hard brush to brush sun- 
 light off a wall. But when the sunlight shifts you know 
 
 " The wall is left in the cold. Well," said Ingram, "I am 
 afraid it is impossible for me to dictate to you what you 
 ought to do. I do not wish to draw you into any interfer- 
 ence between husband and wife, or even to let Mr. Lavender 
 know that you think he is not treating Shei Mrs. Lavender 
 properly. But if you were to hint to him that he ought to 
 pay some attention co her that he should not be going 
 everywhere as if he were a young bachelor in chambers; if 
 you would discourage his coming to see you without bringing 
 her also, and so forth surely he would see what you mean. 
 Perhaps I ask too much of you, but I had intended to ask 
 more. The fact is, Mrs. Kavanagh, I had done your daughter 
 the injustice of supposing 
 
 " I thought we had agreed to say no more about that," 
 said Mrs. Lorraine, quickly, and Ingram was silent. 
 
 Half an hour thereafter he was walking back though Holland 
 Park, through the warm light of an autumn afternoon. The 
 place seemed much -changed since he had seen it a couple 
 of hours before. The double curve of big houses had a 
 more friendly and hospitable look; the very air seemed to be 
 more genial and comfortable since he had driven up here in 
 the hansom. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Ingram was at this moment a little more per- 
 turbed, pleased and bewildered than he would have liked to 
 confess. He had discovered a great deal in these two hours, 
 been much surprised and fascinated, and had come away 
 fairly stupefied with the result of his mission. He had in- 
 deed been successful; Lavender would now find a different 
 welcome awaiting him in the house in which he had been 
 spending nearly all his time, to the neglect of his wife. But 
 the fact is, tha' as Edward Ingram went rapidly over in his 
 own mind everything that had occurred since his entrance 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 279 
 
 into that house, as he anxiously recalled the remarks made 
 to him, the tone and looks accompanying them, and his own 
 replies, it was not of Lavender's affairs alone that he thought. 
 He confessed to himself frankly that he had never yet met 
 any woman who had so surprised him into admiration on 
 their first meeting. 
 
 Yet what had she said ? Nothing very particular. Was it 
 the bright intelligence of the gray eyes, that seemed to see 
 everything he meant with an instant quickness, and that 
 seemed to agree with him even before he spoke? Here- 
 fleeted, now that he was in the open air, that he must have 
 persecuted these two women dreadfully. In getting away 
 from Lavender's affairs they had touched on pictures, books, 
 and what not on the young poet who was playing Alfred de 
 Musset in England; on the great philosopher who had gone 
 into the House to confuse and bewilder the country gentle- 
 men there; on all sorts of topics, indeed, except those which, 
 as Ingram had anticipated, such a creature as Mrs. Lorraine 
 would naturally have found interesting. And he had to 
 confess to himself that he had lectured his two helpless 
 victims most unmercifully. He was quite conscious that he 
 sometimes laid down the law in an authoritative and even 
 sententious manner. On first going into the house certain 
 things said by Mrs. Lorraine had almost surprised him into a 
 mood of mere acquiescence; but after luncheon he had 
 assumed his ordinary manner of tutor in general to the uni- 
 verse, and had informed these two women, in a distinct 
 fashion, what their opinions ought to be on half the social 
 conundrums of the day. 
 
 lie now reflected, with much compunction, that this was 
 highly improper. He ought to have asked about flower- 
 shows, and inquired whether the Princess of Wales was look- 
 ing well of late. Some reference to the late Parisian comedy 
 might have introduced a disquisition on the new grays and 
 greens of the French milliners, with a passing mention made 
 of the price paid for a pair of ponies by a certain marquise 
 unattached. He had not spoken of one of these things; 
 perhaps he could not if he had tried. He remembered, with 
 an awful consciousness of guilt, that he had actually discoursed 
 of woman suffrage, of the public conscience of New York, of 
 the extirpation of the Indians, and a dozen different things 
 not only taking no heed of any opinions that his audience of 
 
280 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 two might hold, but insisting on their accepting his opinions 
 as the expression of absolute and incontrovertible truth. 
 
 He became more and more dissatisfied with himself. If 
 he could only go back now, he would be much more wary, 
 more submissive and complaisant, more anxious to please. 
 What right had he to abuse the courtesy and hospitality of 
 those two strangers, and lecture them on the Constitution of 
 iheir own country? He was annoyed beyond expression that 
 they had listened to him with so much patience. 
 
 And yet he could not have seriously offended th^m for 
 they had earnestly besought him to dine with them on the 
 following Tuesday evening to meet an American judge; 
 aid when he had consented, Mrs Lorraine had written down 
 on a card the date and hour, lest he should forget. He had 
 the card in his pocket; surely he could not have offended 
 them ? If he had pursued this series of questions, he might 
 have gone on to ask himself why he should be so anxious 
 not to have offended these two new friends. He was not 
 ordinarily very sensitive to the opinions that might be 
 formed of him more especially by persons living out of 
 his own sphere, with whom he was not likely to associate. 
 He did not, indeed, as a general rule, suffer himself to be 
 perturbed about anything; and yet, as he went along the 
 busy thoroughfare at this moment, he was conscious that 
 rarely in his life had he been so ill at ease. 
 
 Something now occurred that startled him out of his re- 
 verie. Communing with himself, he was staring blankly 
 ahead, taking little note of the people whom he saw. But 
 somehow, in a vague and dream-like way, he seemed to be- 
 come aware that there was some one in front of him a long 
 way ahead as yet whom he knew. He was still thinking of 
 Mrs. Lorraine, and unconsciously postponing the examination 
 of this approaching figure, or rather pair of figures, when, 
 with a sudden start, he found Sheila's sad and earnest eyes 
 fixed upon him. He woke up as from a dream. He saw 
 that young Mosenberg was with her, and naturally the boy 
 would have approached Ingram, and stopped and spoken. 
 But Ingram paid no attention to him. He was, with a quick 
 pang at his heart, regarding Sheila, with the knowledge that 
 on her rested the cruel decision as to whether she should 
 come forward or not. He was not aware that her husband 
 had forbidden her to have any communication with him } 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 281 
 
 yet he had guessed as much, partly from his knowledge of 
 Lavender's impatient disposition, and partly from the glance 
 he caught of her eyes when he woke up from his trance. 
 
 Young Mosenberg turned with surprise to his companion. 
 She was passing on; he did not even see that she had bowed 
 to Ingram, with a face flushed with shame and pain, and 
 with eyes cast down. Ingram, too, was passing on, without 
 even shaking hands with her or uttering a word. Mosen- 
 berg was too bewildered to attempt any protest ; he merely 
 followed Sheila, with a conviction that something desperate 
 had occurred, and that he would best consult her feelings by 
 making no reference to it. 
 
 But that one look that the girl had directed to her old 
 friend before she bowed and passed on had filled him with 
 despair. It was somehow like the piteous look of a wounded 
 animal, incapable of expressing its pain. All thoughts and 
 fancies of his own little vexations or embarrassments were 
 instantly banished from him: he could only see before him 
 those sad and piteous eyes, full of kindness to him, he 
 thought, and of grief that she should be debarred from 
 speaking to him, and of resignation to her own lot. 
 
 Gwdyr House did not get much work out of him that day. 
 He sat in a small room in a back part of the building, look- 
 ing out on a lonely little square, silent and ruddy with the 
 reflected light of the sunset. 
 
 "A hundred Mrs. Kavanaghs," he was thinking to himself 
 bitterly enough, "will not save my poor Sheila. She will die 
 of a broken heart. I can see it in her face. And it is I who 
 have done it from first to last it is I who have done it; and 
 now I can do nothing to help her." 
 
 That became the burden and refrain of all his reflections. 
 It was he who had done this frightful thing. It was he who 
 had taken away the young Highland girl, his good Sheila, 
 from her home, and ruined her life and broken her heart. 
 And he cculd do nothing to help her. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SHEILA'S STRATAGEM. 
 
 "WE met Mr. Ingram to-day," said young Mosenberg, 
 ingeniously. 
 
 i'e was dining with Lavender, not at home, but at a club 
 
282 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 in St. James' street; and either his curiosity was too great, or 
 he had forgotten altogether Ingram's warnings to him that he 
 should hold his tongue. 
 
 " Oh, did you?" said Lavender, showing no great interest. 
 " Waiter, some French mustard. What did Ingram say to 
 ( you?" 
 
 The question was asked with much apparent indifference, 
 Jand the boy stared. " Well,'' he said at length, '' I suppose 
 there is some misunderstanding between Mrs. Lavender and 
 Mr. Ingram, for they both saw each other, and they both 
 passed on without speaking, I was very sorry yes. I thought 
 they were friends I thought Mr. Ingram knew Mrs. Laven- 
 der even before you did; but they did not speak to each 
 other, not one word." 
 
 Lavender was in one sense pleased to hear this. He liked 
 to hear that his wife was obedient to him. But, he said to 
 himself with a sharp twinge of conscience, she was carrying 
 her obedience too far. He had never meant that she should 
 not even speak to her old friend. He would talk to her 
 about it as soon as he got home, and in as kindly a way as 
 was possible. 
 
 Mosenberg did not play billiards, but they remained late 
 in the billiard-room, Lavender playing pool and getting out 
 of it rather successfully. He could not speak to Sheila that 
 night, but next morning, before going out, he did. 
 
 " Sheila," he said, " Mosenberg told me last nightthat you 
 met Mr. Ingram and did not speak to him. Now, I didn't 
 mean anything like that. You mast not think me unreason- 
 able. All I want is that he shall not interfere with our affairs 
 and try to raise some unpleasantness between you and me, 
 such as might arise from the interference of even the kind- 
 est of friends. When you meet him outside or at any one's 
 house, I hope you will treat him just as usual." 
 
 Sheila replied calmly, "If I am not allowed to receive 
 Mr. Ingrain here, I cannot treat him as a friend else- 
 where. I would rather not have friends whom I can only 
 speak to in the streets." 
 
 "Very well," said Lavender, wincing under the rebuke, 
 but fancying that she would soon repent her of this re- 
 solve. In the meantime, if she would have it so, she would 
 have it so 
 
 So that was an end of this question of Mr. Ingram's in- 
 
A PRINCESS OP THULfi. 283 
 
 terference for the present. But very soon in a couple of 
 days, indeed Lavender perceived the change that had been 
 wrought in the house in Holland Park to which he had 
 been accustomed to resort. 
 
 " Cecelia," Mrs. Kavanagh had said on Ingram's leaving, 
 " you must not be rude to Mr. Lavender." She knew t'ae 
 perfect independence of that gentle young lady, and wab 
 rather afraid it might carry her too far. 
 
 " Of course I shall not be, mamma," Mrs. Lorraine had 
 said. "Did you ever hear of such a courageous act as that 
 man coming up to two strangers and challenging them, all 
 on account of a girl married to some one else? You knov 
 that was the object of his visit. He thought I was flirting 
 with Mr. Lavender and keeping him from his wife. I wonder 
 how many men there are in London who would have walked 
 twenty yards to help in such a matter?" 
 
 " My dear, he may have been in love with that pretty 
 young lady before she was married." 
 
 " Oh, no,'' said the clear-eyed daughter, quietly but quite 
 confidently. " He would not be so ready to show his interest 
 in her if that were so. Either he would be modest, and 
 ashamed of his rejection, or vain, and attempt to make a 
 mystery about it." 
 
 *' Perhaps you are right," said the mother. She seldom 
 found her daughter wrong on such points. 
 
 " I am sure I am right, mamma. He talks about her as 
 fotidly and frequently and openly as a man might talk about 
 his own daughter. Besides, you can see that he is talking 
 honestly. The man couldn't deceive a child if he were to 
 try. You see everything in his fice." 
 
 "You seem to have been much interested in him," said 
 Mrs. Kavanagh, with no appearance of sarcasm. 
 
 "Well, I don't think I meet such men often, and that is 
 the truth. Do you ? " This was carrying the war into the 
 enemy's country. 
 
 " I like him very well," said Mrs. Kavanagh. " I think he 
 is honest. I do not think he dresses very carefully; and he is 
 perhaps too intent on convincing you that his opinions are 
 right." 
 
 " Well, for my part," said her daughter, with just the least 
 tinge of warmth in her manner, "I confess I like a man 
 who has opinions, and is not afraid to say so. I don't find 
 
484 A PRINCESS o# THULE. 
 
 many who have. And for his dressing, one gets rather tired 
 of men who come to you every evening to impress you with 
 the excellence of their tailor. As if women were to be 
 captured by millinery ! Don't we know the value of linen 
 and woolen fabrics?" 
 
 " My dear child, you are throwing away your vexation on 
 some one whom I don't know. It isn't Mr. Lavender?" 
 
 "Oh, dear, no! He is not so silly as that ; he dresses* 
 well, but there is perfect freedom about his dress. He is too 
 much of an artist to sacrifice himself to his clothes." 
 
 " I am glad you have a good word for him at last. I think 
 you have been rather hard on him since Mr. Ingram called ; 
 and that is the reason I asked you to be careful." 
 
 She was quite careful, but as explicit as good manners 
 would allow. Mrs. Lorraine was most particular in asking 
 about Mrs. Lavender, and in expressing her regret that they 
 so seldom saw her. 
 
 " She has been brought up in the country, you know," 
 said Lavender with a smile ; and there the daughters of a 
 house are taught a number of domestic duties that they 
 would consider it a sin to neglect. She would be unhappy 
 if you caused her to neglect them ; she would take her 
 pleasure with a bad conscience." 
 
 " But she cannot be occupied with them all day." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Lorraine, how often have we discussed the 
 question! And you know you have me at a disadvantage, 
 for how can I describe to you what those mysterious duties 
 are? I only know that she is pretty nearly always busy with 
 something or other ; and in the evening, of course, she is 
 generally too tired to think of going out anywhere." 
 
 "Oh, but you must try to get her out. Next Tuesday, 
 
 now, Judge is going to dine with us, and you know how 
 
 amusing he is. If you have no other engagement, couldn't 
 you bring Mrs. Lavender to dine with us on that evening ?'' 
 
 Now, on former occasions something of the same sort of 
 invitation had frequently been given, and it was generally 
 answered by Lavender giving an excuse for his wife, and 
 promising to come himself. What was his astonishment to 
 find Mrs. Lorraine plainly and most courteously intimating 
 that the invitation was addressed distinctly to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Lavender as a couple ! When he regretted that Mrs. Laven- 
 der could not come, she said quietly, " Oh, I am so sorry \ 
 
A PRINCESS Of THULE. 25 
 
 You would have met an old friend of yours here, as well as 
 the judge Mr. Ingram." 
 
 Lavender made no further sign of surprise or curiosity 
 than to lift his eyebrows and say, " Indeed !" 
 
 But when he left the house certain dark suspicions were 
 troubling his mind. Nothing had been said as to the man- 
 ner in which Ingram had made the acquaintance of Mrs. 
 Kavanagh and her daughter, but there was that in Mrs. Lor- 
 raine's manner which convinced Lavender that something 
 had happened. Had Ingram carried his interference to the 
 extent of complaining to them ? Had he overcome a repug- 
 nance which he had repeatedly admitted, and thrust himself 
 upon these two people for this very purpose of making him, 
 Lavender, odious and contemptible ? Lavender's cheeks 
 burned as he thought of this possibility. Mrs. Lorraine had 
 been most courteous to him, but the longer he dwelt on these 
 vague surmises the deeper grew his consciousness that he had 
 been turned out of the place, morally if not physically. 
 What was that excess of courtesy but a cloak? If she had 
 meant less, she would have been more careless; and all 
 through the interview he had remarked that, instead of the 
 free warfare of talk that generally went on between them, 
 Mrs. Lorraine was most formally polite and apparently watch- 
 ful of her words. 
 
 He went home in a passion, which was all the more con- 
 suming that it could not be vented on any one. As Sheila 
 had not spoken to Ingram as she had even nerved herself 
 to wound him by passing him without notice in the street 
 she could not beheld responsible; and yet he wished that he 
 could have upbraided some one for this mischief that had 
 been done. "Should he go straight down to Ingram's lodgings 
 and have it out with him? At first he was strongly inclined 
 to do so, but wiser counsels prevailed. Ingram had a keen 
 and ready tongue, and a way of saying things that made 
 them rankle afterward in the memory. Besides, he would go 
 into court with a defective case. He could say nothing 
 unless Ingram admitted that he liad tried to poison the mind 
 of Mrs. Lorraine against him; and, of course, if there was a 
 quarrel, who would be so foolish as to make such an ad- 
 mission? Ingram would laugh at him, would refuse to 
 admit or deny, would increase his anger without affording 
 him an opportunity of revenging himself. 
 
286 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Sheila could see that her husband was troubled, but cou!d 
 not divine the cause, and had long ago given up any habit 
 of inquiry. He ate his dinner almost in silence, and then 
 said he had to make a call on a friend, and that he would 
 perhaps drop in to the club on his way home, so that she was 
 not to sit up for him, She was not surprised or hurt at the 
 announcement. She was accustomed to spend her evenings 
 alone. She fetched down his cigar-case, put it in his top- 
 coat pocket, and brought him the coat. Then he kissed her 
 and went out. 
 
 But this evening, at least, she had abundant occupation, 
 and that of a sufficiently pleasant kind. For some little time 
 she had been harboring in her mind a dark and mysterious 
 plot, and she was glad of an opportunity to think it out and 
 arrange its details. Mairi was coming to London, and she 
 had carefully concealed the fact from her husband. A little 
 surprise of a dramatic sort was to be prepared for him 
 with what result who could tell? All of a sudden Lavender 
 was to be precipitated into the island of Lewis as nearly as 
 that could be imitated in a house at Notting Hill. 
 
 This was Sheila's scheme, and on these lonely evenings 
 she could sit by herself with much satisfaction and ponder 
 over the little points of it and its possible success Mairi 
 was coming to London under the escort of a worthy Glasgow 
 fishmonger whom Mr. Mackenzie knew. She would arrive 
 after Lavender had left for his studio. Then she and Sheila 
 would set to work to transform the smoking-room, that was 
 sometimes called a library, into something resembling the 
 quaint little drawing-room in Sheila's home. Mairi was bring- 
 ing up a quantity of heather gathered fesh from the rocks 
 beside the White Water; she was bringing up sonie peacocks' 
 feathers, too, for the mantle-piece, and two or three big 
 shells; and. best of all, she was to put in her trunk a real and 
 veritable lump of peat, well dried and easy to light. Then 
 you must know that Sheila had already sketched out the 
 meal that was to be placed on the table so soon as the room 
 had been done up in Highland fashion and this peat lit so as 
 to send its fragrant smoke abroad. A large salmon was to 
 make its appearance first of all. There would be bottles of 
 beer on the table; also one of those odd bottles of Norwe- 
 gian make filled with whisky. And when Lavender went 
 with wonder into the small room, when he smelt the fragrant 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 28f 
 
 peat smoke and every one knows how powerful the sense of 
 smell is in recalling by -gone associations when he saw the 
 smoking salmon and the bottled beer and the whisky, and 
 whan he suddenly found Mairi coming into the room and 
 saying to him in her sweet Highland fashion, ''And are you 
 ferry well, sir? 1 ' would not his heart warm to the old ways 
 and kindly homeliness of the house in Borva, and would not 
 some glimpse of the happy and half-forgotten time that was 
 now so sadly and strangely remote, cause him to break down 
 that barrier between himself and Sheila that this artificial life 
 in the South had placed there ? 
 
 So the child dreamed, and was happy in dreaming of it. 
 Sometimes she grew afraid of her project: she had not had 
 much experience in deception, and the mere concealment of 
 Mairi's coming was a hard thing to bear. But surely her 
 husband would take this trick in good part. It was only, 
 after all, a joke. To put a little barbaric splendor of decora- 
 tion into the little smoking-room, to have a scent of peat-smoke 
 in the air, and to have a timid, sweet-voiced, pretty Highland 
 girl suddenly make her appearance, with an odor of the sea 
 about her, as it were, and a look of fresh breezes in the color 
 of her cheeks what mortal man could find fault with this 
 innocent jest? Sheila's moments of doubt were succeeded 
 by long hours of joyous confidence, in which a happy light 
 shone on her face. She went through the house with a brisk 
 step; she sang to herself as she went; she was kinder than 
 ever to the small children who came into the square every 
 forenoon, and whose acquaintance she had very speedily 
 made; she gave each of her crossing-sweepers threepence in- 
 stead of twopence in passing. The servants had never -seen 
 her in such good spirits; she was exceptionally generous in 
 presenting them with articles of attire; they might have had 
 half the week in holidays, if Mr. Lavender had not to be 
 attended to. A small gentleman of three years of age lived 
 next door, and his acquaintance also she had made, by means 
 of his nurse. At this time his stock of toys, which Sheila 
 had kept carefully renewed, became so big- that he might, 
 with proper management, have set up a stall in the Lowiher 
 Arcade. 
 
 Just before she left Lewis her father had called her to him 
 and said : 'Sheila, I wass wanting to tell you about some- 
 thing. It is not every one that will care to hef his money 
 
28 f i A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 given away to poor folk, and it wass many a time I said to 
 myself that when you were married maybe your husband 
 would think you were giving too much money to the poor 
 folk, as you wass doing in Borva. And it iss this fifty pounds 
 I hef got for you, Sheila, in ten bank notes, and you will take 
 'them with you for your own money, that you will not hef 
 oany trouble about giving things to people. And when 
 /the fifty pounds will be gone, I will send you another fifty 
 pounds; and it will be no difference to me whatever. And if 
 there is any one in Borva you would be for sending money to, 
 there is your own money; for there is many a one would take 
 the money from Sheila Mackenzie that would not be for tak- 
 ing it from an English stranger in London. And when 
 you will send it to them, you will send it to me; and I will 
 tek it to them, and will tell them that this money is from my 
 Sheila, and from no one else whatever." 
 
 This was all the dowry that Sheila carried with her to the 
 South. Mackenzie would willingly have given her half his 
 money, if she would have taken it, or if her husband had de- 
 sired it; but the old King of Borva had profound and far- 
 reaching schemes in his head about the small fortune he 
 might otherwise have accorded to his daughter. This wealth, 
 such as it was, was to be a magnet to draw this young Eng- 
 lish gentleman back to the Hebrides. It was all very well 
 for Mr. Lavender to have plenty of money at present: he 
 might not always have it. Then the time would come for 
 Mackenzie to say, "Look here, young man: I can support 
 myself easily and comfortably by farming and fishing. The 
 money I have is at your disposal so long as you consent to 
 remain in Lewis in Stornoway, if you please; elsewhere, if 
 iyou please only in Lewis. And while you are painting pic- 
 |tures, and making as much money as you can that way, you 
 can have plenty of fishing and shooting and amusement; and 
 my guns and boats and rods are all at your service." Mr. 
 Mackenzie considered that no man could resist such an offer. 
 
 Sheila, of course, told her husband of the sum of money 
 she owned, and for a long time it was a standing joke be- 
 tween them. He addressed her with much respect, and 
 was careful to inform her of the fluctuations of the money- 
 market. Sometimes he borrowed a sovereign of her, and 
 never without giving her an I O U, which was faithfully re- 
 claimed. But by and by she perceived that he grew 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 289 
 
 less and less to like the mention of this money. Perhaps 
 it resenbled too closely the savings which the over-cautious 
 folks about Borvapost would not entrust to a bank, but 
 kept hid about their huts in the heel of a stocking. At all 
 events, Sheila saw that her husband did not like her to go to 
 this fund for her charities; and so the fifty pounds that her 
 father had given her had lasted a long time. During this! 
 period of jubilation, in which she looked forward to touch-< 
 ing her husband's heart by an innocent little strategem, more 
 frequent appeals were made to the drawer in which the 
 treasure was locked up, so that, in the end, her private 
 dowry was reduced to thirty pounds. 
 
 If Ingram could have but taken part in this plan of hers ! 
 The only regret mat was mingled with her anticipations of 
 a happier future concerned ;hi~ faithful friend of hers, who 
 seemed to have been cut off from them forever. And it soon 
 became apparent to her that her husband, so far from inclin- 
 ing to forget the misunderstanding that had arisen between 
 Ingram and himself, seemed to feel increased resentment, 
 insomuch that she was most careful to avoid mentioning his 
 name. 
 
 She was soon to meet him, however. Lavender was re- 
 solved that he would not appear to have retired from the 
 field merely because Ingram had entered it. He would go 
 to this dinner on the Tuesday evening, and Sheila would 
 accompany him. First, he asked her. Much as she would 
 have preferred not visiting these particular people, she cheer- 
 fully acquiesced ; she was not going to be churlish or incon- 
 siderate on the very evs of er dramatic coup. Then he 
 went to Mrs. Lorraine, and said he had persuaded Sheila to 
 come with him and the young American lady and her 
 mamma were good enough to say how glad they were she had 
 come to this decision. They appeared to take it for granted 
 that it was Sheila alone who had declined former invita- 
 tions. 
 
 " Mr. Ingram will be there on Tuesday evening," said 
 Lavender to his wife. 
 
 " I was not aware he knew them," said Sheila, remember- 
 ing, indeed, how scrupulously Ingram had refused to know 
 them. 
 
 " He has made their acquaintance for his own purposes, 
 doubtless," said Lavender. ' ' I suppose he will appear in a 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 frock-coat, with a bright blue tie, and he will say ' Sir' to the 
 waiters when he does not understand them." 
 
 " I thought you said Mr. Ingram belonged to a very good 
 family," said Sheila, quietly. 
 
 " That is so. But each man is responsible for his own man- 
 ners; and as all the society he sees consists of a cat and some 
 wooden pipes in a couple of dingy rooms in Sloane Street, 
 you can't expect him not to make an ass of himself." 
 
 " I have never seen him make himself ridiculous; I do not 
 think it possible," said Sheila, with a certain precision of 
 speech which Lavender had got to know meant much. '' But 
 that is a matter for himself. Perhaps you will tell me what I 
 am to do when I meet him at Mrs. Kavanagh's house." 
 
 ' Of course you must meet him as you would any one 
 else, you know. If you don't wish to speak to him, you need 
 not do so. Saying ' Good evening' costs nothing." 
 
 "If he takes me into dinner?" she asked, calmly. 
 
 " Then you must talk to him as you would to any stran- 
 ger," he said, impatiently. " Ask him.if he has been to the 
 opera, and he won't know there is no opera going on. Tell 
 him that the town is very full, and he won't know that every- 
 body has left. Say you may meet him again at Mrs. 
 Kavanagh's, and you'll see that he doesn't know they mean 
 to start for the Tyrol in a fortnight. I think you and I must 
 also be settling soon where we mean to go. I don't think 
 we can do better than go to the Tyrol." 
 
 She did not answer. It was clear that he had given up all 
 intention of going up to Lewis, for that year at least. But 
 she would not beg him to alter his decision just yet. Mairi 
 was coming, and that experiment of the enchanted room 
 has still to be tried. 
 
 As they drove around to Mrs. Kavanagh's house on that 
 Tuesday evening, she thought, with much bitterness of 
 heart, of the possibility of her having to meet Mr. Ingram in 
 the fashion her husband had suggested. Would it not be 
 better, if he did take her in to dinner, to throw herself en- 
 tirely on his mercy, and ask him not to talk to her at all'. 
 She would address herself, when there was a chance, to her 
 neighbor on the other side ; if she remained silent altogether, 
 no great harm would be done. 
 
 When she went into the drawing-room her first gfance 
 ?iround was for hirn, and he was the first person whom she 
 
A PRINCESS OF THVLfc. 89! 
 
 saw; for, instead of withdrawing into a comer to make one 
 neighbor the victim of his shyness, or concealing his embar- 
 rassment in studying the photographic albums, Mr. Ingram 
 was coolly standing on the hearth-rug, with both hands in 
 his trousers pockets, while lie was engaged in giving the 
 American judge a great de-ii of authoritative information 
 about America. The judge was a tall, fair, stout, good-na- 
 tured man, fond of joking and a good dinner, and he was 
 content at this moment to sit quietly in an easy-chair, with a 
 pleasant smile on his face, and be . ectured about his own 
 country by this sallow little man, whom he took to be a pro- 
 fessor of modern history at some college or other. 
 
 Jngram, as soon as he found that Sheila was in the roomy 
 relieved her from any doubt as to his intentions. He merely 
 came forward, shook hands with her, and said, " How do 
 you do, Mrs. Lavender?" and went back to the judge. She 
 might have been an acquaintance of yesterday or a friend of 
 twenty years' standing; no one could tell by his manner. As 
 for Sheila, she parted with his hand reluctantly. She tried 
 to look, too, what she dared not say; but whatever of regret 
 and kindness and assurance of friendship was in her eyes he 
 did not se.e. He scarcely glanced at her face; he went off 
 at once, and plunged again into the Cincinnati Convention. 
 
 Mrs. Kavanagh and Mrs. Lorraine were exceedingly and 
 almost obtrusively kind to her, but she scarcely heard what 
 they said to her. It seemed so strange and so sad to her that 
 her old friend should be standing near her, and she so far 
 removed from him that she dared not go and speak to him. 
 She could not understand it sometimes : everything around 
 her seemed to get confused, until she felt as if she were 
 sinking in a great sea, and could utter but one despairing 
 cry as she saw the light disappear above her head. When 
 they went in to dinner she saw that Mr. Ingram's seat was on 
 Mrs. Lorraine's right hand, and, although she could hear him 
 speak, as he was almost right opposite to her, it seemed to 
 her that his voice sounded as if it were far away. The man 
 who had taken her in was a tall, brown-whiskered and fault- 
 lessly dressed person who never spoke, so that she was 
 allowed to sit and listen to the conversation between Mrs. 
 Lorraine and Mr. Ingran. They appeared to be on excellent 
 terms. You would have fancied they had known each other 
 for years. And as Sheila sat and saw how pre-occupied and 
 
2Q2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 pleased with his companion Mr. Ingram was, perhaps now 
 and again the bitter question arose to her mind whether this 
 woman, who had taken away her husband, was seeking to 
 take away her friend also. Sheila knew nothing of all that 
 happened within these past few days. She knew only that 
 she was alone, without either husband or friend, and it seemed 
 to her that this pale American girl had taken both away from 
 her. 
 
 Ingram was in one of his happiest moods, and was seeking 
 to prove to Mrs. Lorraine that this present dinner-party 
 ought to be an especially pleasant one. Everybody was 
 going away somewhere, and of course she must know that 
 the expectation of traveling was much more delightful than 
 the reality of it. What could surpass the sense of freedom, 
 of power, of hope, enjoyed by the happy folks who sat down 
 to an open atlas and began to sketch out routes for their 
 coming holidays ? Where was he going? Oh, he was going 
 to the North. Had Mrs. Lorraine never seen Edinburgh 
 Castle rising out of a gray fog, like the ghost of some great 
 building belonging to the times of Arthurian romance ? Had 
 she never seen the Northern twilights, and the awful gloom 
 and wild colors of Lock Coruisk and the Skye hills? There 
 was no holiday-making so healthy, so free from restraint, as 
 that among the far Highland hills and glens, where the clear 
 mountain air, scented with miles and miles of heather, seemed 
 to produce a sort of intoxication of good spirits within one. 
 Then the yachting around the wonderful islands of the West 
 - the rapid runs of a bright forenoon, the shooting of the 
 wild sea-birds, the scrambled dinners in the small cabin, the 
 still nights in the small harbors, with a scent of sea-weed 
 aboard, and the white stars shining down on the trembling 
 water. Yes, he was going yachting this autumn; in about a 
 fortnight he hoped to start. His friend was at present away 
 up Loch Boisdale, in South Uist, and he did not know how 
 to get there except by going to Skye, and taking his chance 
 of some boat going over. Where would they go then ? He 
 did not know. Wherever his friend liked. It would be 
 enough for him if they kept always moving about, seeing 
 the strange sights of the sea and the air and the lonely shores 
 of those Northern islands. Perhaps they might even try to 
 reach St. Kilda 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ingram, won't you go and see my papa?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 293 
 
 The cry that suddenly reached him was like the cry of a 
 broken heart. He started as from n trance, and found Sheila 
 regarding him with a piteous appeal in her face: she had been 
 listening intently to ail c had said. 
 
 " Oh yes, Sheila," he sai I.indly, and quite forgetting that 
 he was speaking to her before strangers: "of course I must go 
 and see your papa f we are any way near the Lewis. Per= 
 .haps you may be there then ?" 
 
 "No," said Sheila, looking down. 
 
 "Won't you go to the Highlands this Autumn?" Mrs. Lor- 
 raine asked in a friendly way. 
 
 " No," said Sheila in a measured voice, as she looked her 
 enemy fair in the face; " I think we are going to the Tyrol.*' 
 
 If the child had only known what occurred to Mrs. Lor- 
 raine's mind at this moment ! Not a triumphant sense of 
 Lavender's infatuation, as Sheila probably fancied, but a very 
 definite resolution that if Frank Lavender went to the Tyrol, 
 it was not with either her or her mother he should go. 
 
 "Mrs. Lavender's father is an old friend of mine," said 
 Ingram, loud enough for all to hear; "and, hospitable as all 
 Highlanders are, I have never met his equal in that way, and 
 I havT tried his patience a good many times. What do you 
 think, Mrs. Lorraine, of a man who would give up his best 
 gun to you, even though you couldn't shoot a bit, and he 
 particularly proud of his shooting ? And so if you lived with 
 him for a month or six months each day the best of every- 
 thing for you, the second best for your friend, the worst for 
 himself. Wasn't it so, Lavender?" 
 
 It was a direct challenge sent across the table, and Sheila's 
 heart beat quick lest her husband should say something un- 
 gracious. 
 
 "Yes, certainly," said Lavender with a readiness that 
 pleased Sheila. " I, at least, have no right to complain of 
 his hospitality." 
 
 " Your papa is a very handsome man," said Mrs. Lorraine 
 to Sheila, bringing the conversation back to their own end of 
 the table, " I have seen few finer heads than that drawing 
 you have. Mr. Lavender did that, did he not? Why has he 
 never done one of you?" 
 
 " He is too busy, I think, just now," Sheila said, perhaps 
 not knowing that from Mrs. Lorraine's waist-belt at that mo- 
 ment depended a fan which might have given evidence as to 
 
294 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 the extreme scarcity of time under which Lavender was sup- 
 posed to labor. 
 
 " He has a splendid head," said Ingram. " Did you know 
 that he is called the 1-ing of Borva up there ?" 
 
 " I have heard of him being called the King of Thule," 
 said Mrs. Lorraine, turning vith a smile to Sheila, " and of. 
 his daughter being sty led a princess. Do you know the ballad 
 of the King of Thule, in Faust, Mrs. Lavender ?" 
 
 "In the opera? yes," said Sheila. 
 
 "Will you sing it for us after dinner?" 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 The promise was fulfilled, in a fashion. The notion that 
 Mr. Ingram was about to go away up to Lewis, to the people 
 who knew her and to her father's house, with no possible 
 answer to the questions which would certainly be showered 
 upon him as to why she had not come also, troubled Sheila 
 deeply. The ladies went into the drawing-room, and Mrs. 
 Lorraine got out the song. Sheila sat down to the piano, 
 thinking far more of that small stone house at Borva than of 
 the King of Thule's castle overlooking the sea; and yet some- 
 how the first lines of the song, though she knew them well 
 enough, sent a pang to her heart as she glanced at them. 
 She touched the first notes of the accompaniment, and sbe 
 looked at the words again : 
 
 " Over the sea, in Thule of old, 
 Reigned a king who was trae-hearted, 
 Who, in remembrance of one departed" 
 
 A mist came over her eyes. Was she the one who had de- 
 parted, leaving the old king in his desolate house by the sea, 
 where he could only think of her as he : t in his solitary 
 chamber, with the night winds howling around the ohore 
 outside ? When her birthday had come around she knew that 
 he must have silently drank to her, "hough not out of a beaker 
 of gold. And now, when mere friends and acquaintances 
 were free, to speed away to the North, and get a welcome 
 from the folks in Borva, and listen to the Atlantic waves dash- 
 ing lightly in among the rocks, her Aope of getting thither 
 had almost died out. Among such people as landed on Storno- 
 way quay from the big Clansman her father would seek one 
 face, and seek it in vain. And Duncan and Scarlett, and 
 even John the Piper all the well-remembered folks who 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 205 
 
 lived far away across the Minch they would ask why Miss 
 Sheila was never coming back. 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine had been standing aside from the piano. 
 Noticing that Sheila had played the introduction to the 
 song twice over in an undetermined manner, she came 
 .'forward a step or two and pretended to be looking at the 
 music. Tears were running down Sheila's face. Mrs. Lor- 
 raine put her hand on the girl's shoulder, and sheltered 
 her from observation, and said aloud: "You have it in a 
 different key, have you not? Pray don't sing it; sing 
 something else. Do you know any of Gounod's sacred 
 songs? Let me see if we can nnd anything for you in this 
 volume." 
 
 They were a long time finding anything in that volume. 
 When they did find it, behold! it was one of Mrs. Lorraine's 
 songs, and that young lady said if Mrs. Lavender would 
 only allow herself to be superseded for a few minutes. And 
 so Sheila walked, with her head down, to the conservatory > 
 which was at the other end of the piano; and Mrs. Lorraine 
 not only sung this French song, but sang every one of the 
 verses; and at the end of it she had quite forgotten that 
 Sheila had promised to sing. 
 
 "You are very sensitive," she said to Sheila, coming 
 int > the conservatory.'' 
 
 "I am very stupid/' Sheila said with her face burning. 
 "Bat it is a long time since I will see the Highlands 
 and Mr. Ingram was talking of the places I know and 
 and so " 
 
 " I understand well enough," said Mrs. Lorraine tenderly, 
 as if Sheila was a mere child in her hands. "But you 
 must not get your eyes red. You have to sing some of 
 those Highland songs for us 5 when the gentlemen come in. 
 Come up to my room and I wi'l make you: eyes all right. 
 Oh, do not be afraid ! I shall not bring you down like Lady 
 Leveret. Did you ever see anything like that woman's face 
 to-night ? It reminds me of the window of an oil and color 
 shop. I wonder she does no.t catch flies with her cheeks." 
 
 So all the people, Sheila learned that night, were going 
 away from London, and she and her husband would join in 
 the general stampede of the very last dwellers in town. But 
 Mairi ? What was to become of her after that little plot had 
 been played out ? Sheila could not leave Mairi to see LOR- 
 
tg6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 don by herself; she had been enjoying beforehand the de 
 light of taking the young girl about and watching the wonder 
 of her eyes. Nor could shu fairly postpone Mairi's visit, and 
 Mairi was coming up in another coupl , of days. 
 
 On the morning on which the visitor from ttr far Hebrides 
 was to make her appearance in London, Sheila felt conscious 
 of a great hypocrisy in bidding good-bye to her husband. 
 On some excuse or other she had had breakfast ordered 
 early, and he found himself ready at half-past nine to go out 
 for the day. 
 
 " Frank," she said, " will you come in to lunch at two? 5 ' 
 
 "Why?" he asked; he did not often have luncheon at 
 home. 
 
 " I will go into the Park with yo>4 in the afterneon if you 
 like," she said; all the scene had been diligently rehearsed on 
 one side, before. 
 
 Lavender was a little surprised, but he was in an amiable 
 mood. 
 
 " All right!" he said. " Have something with olives in it. 
 Two, sharp." 
 
 With that he went out, and Sheila- with a wild commotion 
 at her heart, saw him walk away through the square. She 
 was afraid Mairi might have arrived before he left. And, 
 indeed, he had not gone above"- a tew minutes, when a four- 
 wheeler drove up, and an elderly man got out and waited for 
 the timid-faced girl inside to alight. With rush like that of 
 a startled deer, Sheila was down the stairs, along the hall and 
 on the pavement; and it was: "Oh, Mairi; and have you 
 <?ome at last? And are you very well? And how are all the 
 people in Borva? And Mr. M' Alpine, how are you? and 
 /will you come into the house?" 
 
 \ Certailv, that was a strange sight for a decorous London 
 square the mistress of a house, a young girl with bare 
 head, coming out on the pavement to shake hands in a 
 frantic fashion with a young maid-servant and an elderly 
 man whose clothes had been pretty well tanned by sun- 
 light and sea-water! And Sheila would herself help to 
 carry Mairi's luggage in. And she would take no denial 
 from Mr. M'Alpine, whose luggage was also carried in. 
 And she would herself pay the cabman, as strangers did not 
 know about these things, SheiVs knowledge being ex- 
 hibited by her hastily g'"iA%'. A*, man five shillings for 
 
A PRItfGESS OF THtfLE. gtjfl 
 
 driving from Euston Station. And there was breakfast 
 waiting for them both as soon as Mairi could get her face 
 washed; and would Mr. M' Alpine have a glass of whisky 
 after the night's traveling? and it was very good whisky 
 whatever, as it had come all the way from Stornoway. Mr c 
 M' Alpine was nothing loath. 
 
 "And wass you pretty well, Miss Sheila?" said Mairi.; 
 looking timidly and hastily up, and forgetting altogether that 
 Sheila had another name now. " It will be a great thing for 
 me to go back to sa Lewis, and tell them I wass seeing you, 
 and you wass looking so well. And I will be thinking I wass 
 neffer coming to any one I knew any more; and it is a great 
 fright I hef had since we came away from sa Lewis ; and 1 
 wass thinking we would neffer find you among all sa people 
 and so far away across sa sea and sa land. Eh !" The 
 girl stopped in astonishment. Her eyes had wandered up to 
 a portrait on the walls; and here, in this very room, after she 
 had traveled over all this great distance, apparently leaving 
 behind her everything but the memory of her home, was Mr. 
 Mackenzie himself, looking at her from under his shaggy 
 eyebrows. 
 
 "You must have seen that picture in Borva, Mairi,'' 
 Sheila said. " Now come with me, like a good girl, and get 
 yourself ready for breakfast. Do you know, Mairi, it does 
 my heart good to hear you talk again ? I don't think I 
 shall be able to let you go back to the Lewis." 
 
 " But you hef changed ferry much in your way of speak- 
 ing, Miss Mrs. Lavender," said Mairi, with an effort. "Yoa 
 will speak just like sa English now." 
 
 " The English don't say so," replied Sheila, with a smile, 
 leading the way up stairs. 
 
 Mr. M' Alpine had his business to attend to, but, being a 
 sensible man, he took advantage of the profuse breakfast 
 placed before him. Mairi was a little too frightened and 
 nervous and happy to eat much, but Mr. M' Alpine was an old 
 traveler, not to be put out by the mere meeting of two girls. 
 He listened in a grave and complacent manner to the rapid 
 questions and answers of Mairi and her hostess; but he him- 
 self was too busy to join in the conversation much. At the 
 end of breakfast he accepted, after a little pressing, half a 
 glass of whisky; and then, much comforted and in a 
 thoroughly good humor with hiirself and the world, got bi? 
 
9 A PRINCESS OP tHULE. 
 
 luggage out again and went on his way toward a certain inn 
 in High Holborn. 
 
 "Ay, and where does the queen live, Miss Sheila?" said 
 Mairi. She had been looking at the furniture in Sheila's 
 house, and wondering if the queen lived in a place still more 
 beautiful than this. 
 
 ' ' A long way from here." 
 
 "And it iss no wonder," said Mairi, "she will nefFer hef 
 been in sa Lewis. I wass neffer thinking the world wass so 
 big, and it wass many a time since me and Mr. M J Alpine hef 
 come away from Styornoway I wass thinking it wass too far 
 for me effer to get back again. But it iss many a one will say 
 to me, before I hef left the Lewis, that I wass not to come 
 home unless you wa^s coming, too, and I wass to bring you 
 back with me, Miss Sheila. And where is Bras, Miss Sheila ?" 
 
 " You will see him by and by. He is out in the garden 
 now. She said " gyarden " without knowing it. 
 
 " And will he understand the Gaelic yet?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," Sheila said. "And he is sure to remember 
 you." 
 
 There was no mistake about that. When Mairi went into 
 the back garden the demonstrations of delight on the part 
 of the great deerhound were as pronounced as his dignity 
 and gravity would allow. And Mairi fairly fell upon his 
 neck and kissed him, and addressed to him a hundred en- 
 dearing phrases in Gaelic, every word of which it was quite 
 obvious that the dog understood. London was already 
 Beginning to be less terrible to her. She had met and talked 
 jwith Sheila. Here was Bras. A portrait of the King of 
 JBorva was hung up inside, and all around the rooms were 
 articles which she had known in the North, before Sheila 
 had married and brought them away into this strange land. 
 
 "You have never asked after my husband, Mairi," said 
 Sheila, thinking to confuse the girl. 
 
 But Mairi was not confused. Probably she had been fancy- 
 
 , ing that Mr. Lavender was down at the shore, or had gone 
 
 * out fishing, or something of that sort, and would return soon 
 
 , enough, It was Sheila, not he, whom she was concerned 
 
 1 about. Indeed, Mairi had caught up a little of that jealousy 
 
 of Lavender which was rife among the Borva folks. They 
 
 would speak no ill of Mr. Lavender. The young gentleman 
 
 whom Miss Sheila had chosen had by that very fact a claim 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 299 
 
 apon their respect. Mr. Mackenzie's son-in-law was a person 
 of importance. And yet in their secret hearts they bore a 
 grudge against him. What right had he to come away up to 
 the North and carry off the very pride of the island? Were 
 English girls not good enough for him, that he must needs 
 come up and takeaway Sheila Mackenzie, and keep her there 
 in the South so that her friends and acquaintances saw no 
 more of her ? Before the marriage Mairi had a great liking 
 and admiration for Mr. Lavender, She was so pleased to see 
 Miss Sheila pleased that she approved of the young man, 
 and thanking him in her heart for making her cousin and 
 mistress so obviously happy. Perhaps, indeed, Mairi man- 
 aged to fall in love with him a little bit herself, merely by 
 force of example and through sympathy with Sheila; and 
 she was rapidly forming very good opinions of the English 
 race and their ways and their looks. But when Lavender 
 took away Sheila from Borva a change came over Mairi's sen- 
 timents. She gradually fell in with the current opinions of 
 the island that it was a great pity Sheila had not married 
 young Mr. Maclntyre of Suthedand, or some one who would 
 have allowed her to remain amonst her own people. Mairi 
 began to think that the English, though they were handsome 
 and good-natured, and free with their money, were on the 
 whole a selfish race, inconsiderate and forgetful of promises. 
 She began to dislike the English, and wished they would 
 stay in their own country, and not interfere with other 
 people. 
 
 " I hope he is very well," said Mairi, dutifully; she could 
 at least say that honestly. 
 
 " You will see him at two o'clock. He is coming in to 
 luncheon ; and he does not know you are here, and you are 
 to be a great surprise to him, Mairi. And there is to be a 
 greater surprise still ; for we are going to make one of the 
 rooms into the drawing-room at home; and you must open 
 your boxes, and bring me down the heather and the peat, 
 Mairi, and the two bottles; and then, you know, when the 
 salmon is on the table, and the whisky and the beer, and 
 Bras lying on the hearth-rug, and the peat-smoke all through 
 the room, then you will come in and shake hands with him, 
 and he will think he is in Borva again." 
 
 Mairi was a little puzzled. She did not understand the in- 
 tention of this strange thing. But she went and fetched the 
 
3<X> A PRINCEsS OF THULB, 
 
 materials she had brought with her from Lewis, and Sheila 
 and she set to work. 
 
 It was a pleasant enough occupation for this bright fore- 
 noon, and Sheila, as she had heard Mairi's sweet Highland 
 speech, and as she brought from all parts of the house the 
 i curiosities sent her from the Hebrides, would almost have 
 > fancied she was superintending a "cleaning" of that museum- 
 jlike little drawing-room at Borva. Skins of foxes, seals and 
 deer, stuffed eagles and strange fishes, masses of coral and 
 wonderful carvings in wood brought from abroad, shells, of 
 every size from every clime all .ihese were brought together 
 into Frank Lavender's smoking-room. The ordinary orna- 
 ments of the mantelpiece gave way to fanciful arrangements 
 of peacock's feathers. Fresh-blown ling and the beajutiful 
 spikes of the bell-heather formed the staple of the decora- 
 tions, and Mairi had brought enough to adorn an assembly 
 room. 
 
 "That is like the Lewis people," Sheila said, with a laugh; 
 she had not been in as happy a mood for many a day. " I 
 asked you to bring one peat, and of course you brought two. 
 Tell the truth, Mairi: could you have forced yourself to 
 bring one peat ?" 
 
 "I wass thinking it was safer to bring sa two," replied 
 Mairi, blushing all over the fair and pretty face. 
 
 And, indeed, there being two peats, Sheila thought she 
 might as well try an experiment with one. She crumbled 
 down some pieces, put them on a plate, lit them, and placed 
 the plate outside the open window, on the soil. Presently 
 a new, sweet, half-forgotten fragrance came floating in, and 
 Sheila almost forgot the success of the experiment in the 
 half-delighted, half-sad reminiscences called up by the scent 
 of the peat. Mairi failed to see how any one couldwillfully 
 smoke a house any one, that is to say, who did not save the 
 smoke for his thatch. And who was so particular as Sheila 
 had been about having the clothes come in from the wash- 
 ing dried so that they should not retain this very odor that 
 seemed new to delight her? 
 
 At last the room was finished, and Sheila contemplated it 
 with much satisfaction. The table was laid, and on the white 
 cloth stood the bottles most familiar to Borva. The peat- 
 smoke still lingered in the air; she could not have wished 
 anything to be better. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 30 1 
 
 Then she went off to look after the luncheon, and Mairi 
 was permitted to go down and explore the mysteries of the 
 kitchen. The servants were not accustomed to this inter- 
 ference and oversight, and might have resented it, only that 
 Sheila had proved a very good mistress to them, and had 
 shown, too, that she would have her own way when she wanted 
 it. Suddenly, as Sheila was explaining to Mairi the us. of 
 some particular piece of mechanism, she heard a sound that 
 made her heart jump. It was now but half-past one, and yet 
 that was surely her husband's foot in the hall. For a mo- 
 ment she was too bewildered to know what to do. She heard 
 him go straight into the very room she had been decorating, 
 the door of which she had left open. Then, as she went up- 
 stairs, with her heart still beating fast, the first thing that met 
 her eyes was a tartan shawl belonging to Mairi that had been 
 accidentally left in the passage. Her husband must have 
 seen it. 
 
 " Sheila, what nonsense is this r" he said. 
 
 He was evidently in a hurry, and yet she could not answer; 
 her heart was throbbing too quickly 
 
 "Look here," he said, ;: 1 wish you'd give up this grotto- 
 making till to-morrow. Mrs. Kavanagh, Mrs. Lorraine and 
 Lord Arthur Redmond are coming here to luncheon at two. 
 I suppose you can get something decent for them. What is 
 the matter? What is the meaning of all this?" 
 
 And then his eyes rested on the tartan shawl, which he had 
 really not noticed before. 
 
 " Who is in the house ?" he said. " Have you asked some 
 washerwoman to lunch ?" 
 
 Sheila managed at last to say, " It is Mairi come from 
 Stornoway. I was thinking you would be surprised to see 
 her when you came in." 
 
 "And these preparations are for her?" 
 
 Sheila said nothing there was that in the tone of her hus- 
 band's voice which was gradually bringing her to herself and 
 giving her quite sufficient firmness. 
 
 f ' And now that this girl has come up, I suppose you 
 mean to introduce her to all your friends; and I suppose 
 you expect those people who are coming in half an hour to 
 sit down at table with a kitchen-maid?" 
 
 "Mairi," said Sheila, standing quite erect, but with he* 
 eyes cast down, " is my cousin." 
 
$02 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "Your cousin! Don't be ridiculous, Sheila. You know 
 very well that Mairi is nothing more or less than a scullery- 
 maid; and I suppose you mean to take her out of the 
 kitchen and introduce her to people, and expect her to sit 
 down at table with them. Is not that so?" She did not 
 answer, and he went on, impatiently: " Why was I not 
 told that this girl was coming to stay at my house ? Surely 
 I have some right to know what guests you invite, that I 
 may be able at least to ask my- friends not to come near 
 the house while they are in it." 
 
 " That I did not tell you before yes, that was a pity," 
 said Sheila, sadly and calmly. " But it will be no trouble to 
 you. When Mrs. Lorraine comes up at two o'clock there 
 will be luncheon for her and for her friends. She will not 
 have to sit down with any of my relations or with me, for if 
 they are not fit to meet her, I am not ; and it is not any great 
 matter that I do not meet her at two o'clock.'' 
 
 There was no passion of any sort in the measured and sad 
 voice, nor in the somewhat pale face and downcast eyes. 
 Perhaps it was this composure that deceived Frank Lavender ; 
 at all events, he turned and walked out of the house, satisfied 
 that he would not have to introduce this Highland cousin to 
 his friends, and just as certain that Sheila would repent of 
 her resolve and appear in the dining-room as usual. 
 
 Sheila went down stairs to the kitchen, where Mairi still 
 stood awaiting her. She gave orders to one of the servants 
 about having luncheon laid in the dining-room at two, and 
 then she bade Mairi follow her u,p-stairs. 
 
 " Mairi," she said, when they were alone, " I want you co 
 put your things in your trunk at once in five minutes, if 
 you can; I shall be waiting for you." 
 
 "Miss Sheila !" cried the girl, looking up to her friend's 
 face with a sudden fright seizing her heart, "what is the mat- 
 ter with you ? You are going to die !" 
 
 " There is nothing the matter, Mairi. I am going away." 
 
 She uttered the words placidly, but there was a pained 
 look about the lips that could not be concealed, and her 
 face, unknown to herself, had the whiteness of despair in it. 
 
 " Going away !" said Mairi, in a bewildered way. " Where 
 yre you going, Miss Sheila?" 
 
 " I will tell you by and by. Get your trunk ready, Mairi. 
 You are keeping me waiting." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 36$ 
 
 Then she called for a servant, who was sent for a cab; and 
 by the time the vehicle appeared Mairi was ready to get into 
 it, and her trunk was put on the top. Then, clad in the 
 rough blue dress she used to wear in Borva, and with no ap- 
 pearance of haste or fear in the calm and death-like face, 
 Sheila came out from her husband's house and found herself 
 alone in the world. There were two little girls, the daughters 
 'of a neighbor, passing by at the time; she patted them on 
 the head and bade them good-morning. Could she recollect, 
 five minutes thereafter, having seen them? There was a 
 strange and distant lock in her eyes. 
 
 She prot into the cab, and sat down by Mairi, and then 
 took the Bill's hand. " I am sorry to take you away, Mairi," 
 sh: i-iid; but she was apparently not thinking of Mairi, nor 
 of the house che was leaving, nor yet of the vehicle in which 
 she was so strangely placed Was she thinking of a certain 
 wild and wet day in the far Hebrides, when a young bride 
 stood on the decks of a great vessel and saw the home of her 
 childhood and the friends of her youth fade back into the 
 desolate waste of the sea ? Perhaps there may have been 
 some unconscious influence in this picture to direct her 
 movements at this moment for of definite resolves she had 
 none. When Mairi told her that the cabman wanted to know 
 whither he was to drive, she merely answered: " Oh, yes, 
 Mairi, we will go to the station; 3 ' and Mairi added, address- 
 ing the man: "It was the Euston Station.'* Then they 
 drove away. 
 
 "Are you going home ? w said the young girl, looking up 
 with a strange foreb; dirg and cinking of the heart to the 
 pale face and distant eyes "are you going home, Miss 
 Sheila?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, we are going home, Mairi," was the answer she 
 got, but the tone in which it was uttered filled her mind with 
 doubt, and something like despair. 
 
$04 A PKl-VCiiSS OF THULB. 
 
 PART IX. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NEW DAY BREAKS. 
 
 WAS this, then, the end of the fair and beautiful romance 
 that had sprung up and blossomed so hopefully in the remote 
 and bleak island, amid the silence of the hills and moors and 
 the wild twilights of the North, and set around about, as it 
 were, by the cold sea-winds and the sound of the Atlantic 
 waves ? Who could have fancied, looking at those two young 
 folks as they wandered about the shores of the island, as they 
 sailed on the still moonlight nights through the channels of 
 Loch Roag, or as they sang together of an evening in the lit- 
 tle parlor of the house at Borvapost, that all the delight and 
 wonder of life then apparently opening out before them was 
 so soon and so suddenly to collapse, leaving them in outer 
 darkness and despair ? All their difficulties had been got 
 over. From one side and from another they had received 
 generous help, friendly advice, self-sacrifice, to start them on 
 a path that seemed to be strewn with sweet-smelling flowers. 
 And here was the end a wretched girl, blinded and bewild- 
 ered, flying frcrm her husband's house and seeking refuge in 
 the great world of London, careless whither she went. 
 
 Whose was the fault? Which of them had been mistaken 
 up there in the North, laying the way open for a bitter dis- 
 appointment f Or had either of them failed to carry out 
 that unwritten contract entered into in the halcyon period 
 of courtship, by which young people promise to be and re- 
 main to each other all that they then appeared ? 
 
 Lavender, at least, had no right to complain. If the real 
 Sheila turned out to be something dificrent from the 
 Sheila of his fancy, he had been abundantly warned that 
 such would be the case. He had even accepted it as proba- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. $0$ 
 
 ble, and said that as the Sheila whom he might come to 
 know must doubtless be better than the Sheila whom he had 
 imagined, there was little danger in store for either. He 
 would love the true Sheila even better than the creature of 
 his brain. Had he done so ? He found beside him this 
 proud and sensitive Highland girl, full of generous impulses 
 that craved for the practical work of helping other people, 
 longing, with the desire of a caged bird, for the free winds 
 and light of heaven, the sight of hills and the sound of seas, 
 and he could not understand why she could not conform to 
 the usages of city life. He was disappointed that she did 
 not do so. The imaginative Sheila, who was to appear as a 
 wonderful sea-princess in London drawing-rooms, had dis- 
 appeared now; and the real Sheila, who did not care to go 
 with him into that society which he loved, or affected to 
 love, he had not learned to know. 
 
 And had she been mistaken in her estimate of Frank 
 Lavender's character? At the very moment of her leaving 
 her husband's house, if she had been asked the question, she 
 would have turned and proudly answered, " No !" She had 
 been disappointed so grievously disappointed that her heart 
 seemed to be breaking over it but the manner in which 
 Frank Lavender had fallen away from all the promises he had 
 given was due, not to himself, but to the influence of the 
 society around him. Of that she was quite assured. He had 
 shown himself careless, indifferent, inconsiderate to the verge 
 of cruelty ; but he was not, she had convinced herself, con- 
 sciously cruel, nor yet selfish, nor radically bad-hearted in 
 any way. In her opinion, at least, he was courageously 
 sincere, to tne verge of shocking people who mistook his 
 frankness for impudence. He was recklessly generous: he 
 would have given the coat off his back to a beggar, at the 
 instigation of a sudden impulse, provided he could have got 
 into a cab before any of his friends saw him. He had rare 
 abilities, and at times wildly ambitious ('reams, not of his 
 own glorification, but of what he would do to celebrate the 
 beauty and the graces of the princess whom he fancied he 
 had married. It may seem hard of belief that this man, 
 judging him by his actions at this time, could have had any- 
 thing of thorough self-forgetfulness and manliness in his 
 nature. But when things were at their very worst, when he 
 appeared to the world as a self-indulgent idler, careless of a 
 
306 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 noble woman's unbounded love; when Lis indifference, or 
 worse, had actually driven from his house a young wife who 
 had especial claims on his forbearance and consideration 
 there were two people who still believed in Frank Lavender. 
 They were Sheila Mackenzie and Edward Ingram ; and a 
 man's wife and his oldest friend generally know something 
 about his real nature, its besetting temptations, its weakness, 
 Its strength and its possibilities. 
 
 Of course Ingram was speedily made aware of all that 
 had happened. Lavender went home at the appointed hour 
 to luncheon accompanied by his three acquaintances. He 
 had met them accidentally in the forenoon, and as Mrs. 
 Lorraine was most particular in her inquiries about Sheila, 
 he thought he could not do better than ask her there and 
 then with her mother and Lord Arthur, to have luncheon at 
 two. What followed on his carrying the announcement to 
 Sheila we know. He left the house, taking it for granted that 
 there would be no trouble when he returned. Perhaps he re- 
 proached himself for having spoken so sharply, but Sheila was 
 really very thoughtless in such matters. At two o'clock 
 everything would be right. Sheila must see how it would be 
 impossible to introduce a young Highland serving-maid to 
 two fastidious ladies and the son of a great Conservative 
 peer. 
 
 Lavender met his three friends once more, and walked up 
 to the house with them, letting them in, indeed, with his 
 own latch-key. Passing the dining-room, he saw that the 
 table was laid there. This was well. Sheila had been 
 reasonable. 
 
 They went up-stairs to the drawing-room. Sheila was not 
 there. Lavender rang the bell, and bade the servant tell her 
 mistress she was wanted. 
 
 "Mrs. Lavender has gone out, sir," said the servant. 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" he said, taking the matter quite coolly. 
 "When?" 
 
 " A quarter of an hour ag^, sir. She went out with the 
 the young lady who came thus norninr;." 
 
 " Very well. Let me know when luncheon is ready." 
 
 Lavender turned to his guests, feeii ig a little awkward, but 
 appearing to treat the matter in a light and humorous way. 
 He imagined that Sheiln, resenting what he had said, had re- 
 solved to take Mairi away and find her lodgings elsewhere. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 307 
 
 Perhaps that might be done in time to let Sheila come . back 
 to receive his guests. 
 
 Sheila did not appear, however, and luncheon was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 " I suppose we may as well go down," said Lavender, with 
 a shrug of his shoulders. " It is impossible to say when she 
 may come back. She is such a good-hearted creature that 
 she would never think of herself or her own affairs in look- 
 ing after this girl from Lewis." 
 
 They went down stairs and took their places at the table. 
 
 " For my part," said Mrs. Lorraine, " I think it is very 
 unkind not to wait for poor Mrs. Lavender. She may come 
 ' in dreadfully tired and hungry." 
 
 " But that would not vex her so much as the notion that 
 you had waited on her account," said Sheila's husband, with 
 a smile; and Mrs. Lorraine was pleased to hear him sometimes 
 speak in a kindly way of the Highland, girl whom he had 
 married. 
 
 Lavender's guests were going somewhere after luncheon, 
 and he had half-promised to go with them, Mrs. Lorraine 
 stipulating that Sheila should be induced to come also. But 
 when luncheon was over and Sheila had not appeared, he 
 changed his intention. He would remain at home. He saw 
 his three friends depart, and went into the study and lit a 
 cigar. 
 
 How odd the place seemed. Sheila had left no instruc- 
 tions about the removal of those barbaric decorations she 
 had placed in the chamber; and here around him seemed to 
 be the walls of the old-fashioned little room at Borvapost, 
 with its big shells, its peacocks' feathers, its skins and stuffed 
 fish, and masses of crimson bell-heather. Was there not, 
 too, an odor of peat-smoke in the air ? and then his eyes 
 caught sight of the plate that still stood on the window- 
 sill, with the ashes of the burned peat on it. 
 
 " The odd child she isP' he thought, with a smile, "to 
 go playing at grotto-making, and trying to fancy she was 
 up in Lewis again! I suppose she would like to let her 
 hair down again, and take off her shoes and stockings, and 
 go wading along the sand in search of shell-fish." 
 
 And then, somehow, his fancies went back to the old time 
 when he had first seen and admired her wild ways, her fear- 
 less occupations by sea and shore, and the delight of active 
 
30S A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 work that shone on her bright face and in her beautiful eyesi 
 How lithe and handsome her figure used to be in that blue 
 dress, when she stood in the middle of the boat, her head 
 bent back, her arms upstretched and pulling at some rope or 
 other, and all the fine color of exertion in the bloom of her 
 cheeks ! Then the pride with which she saw her little vessel 
 cutting through the water ! how she tightened her lips with 
 a joyous determination as the sheets were hauled close, i id 
 the gunwale of the small boat heeled over so that it almost 
 touched the hissing and gurgling foam ! how she laughed at 
 Duncan's anxiety as she rounded some rocky point, and sent 
 the boat spinning into the clear and smooth waters of tV>?. 
 bay ! Perhaps, after all, it was too bad to keep the poor 
 child so long shut up in a city. She was evidently longing 
 for a breath of sea air, and for some brief dash of that brisk, 
 fearless life on the sea-coast that she used to love. It wac c 
 happy life, after all; and he had himself enjoyed it when hie 
 hands and face got browned by the sun, when he grew tc 
 wonder how any human being could wear black garmentc 
 and drink foreign wines and smokf cigars *at eighteenpence 
 a piece, so long as frieze coats, whisky and a brier-root pipe 
 were procurable. How one slept up in that remote island, 
 after all the laughing and drinking and singing of the even- 
 ing were over! How sharp was the monition of hunger 
 when the keen cea air blew about your face on issuing out 
 ;:%he morning ! and how fresh and cool and sweet was that 
 carty breeze, with the scent of Sheila's flowers in it ! Then 
 iihc .lcr>, bright day at the river-side, with the black pools 
 jip')]in^ :":;. the wind, and in the silence of the rapid whistle 
 O^ the -ilkcn line through the air, with now and then the "blob" 
 DL a big salmon rising to a fly further down the pool ! Where 
 ras';h re any rest like the rest of the mid-day luncheon, when 
 Dunc?a had put the big fish, wrapped in rushes, under the 
 sl-adcw o* the nearest rock, when you sat down on the 
 warual^eah-r and lit your pipe, and began to inquire where 
 you ha 1 been bitten on hands and neck by the ferocious 
 "clegs' wi i'e you are too busy in playing a fifteen-pounder 
 too*-? Then, perhaps, as you were sitting there in tlrj 
 warm sunlight, wi^h ..11 the fresh scents of moorland around, 
 you would hear a li~ht footstep on the soft moss? and, 
 turning around, here was Sheila herself, with a brijht look 
 in her pretty eyes ; and a half blush on her cheek, and a 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 36$ 
 
 friendly inquiry as to the way the fish had been behaving. 
 Then the beautiful, strange, cool evenings on the shores of 
 Loch Roag, with the wild, clear light still shining in the 
 Northern heavens, and the sound of the waves getting to 
 be lonely and distant; or, still later, out in Sheila's boat, 
 with the great yellow moon rising up over Suainabhal and ' 
 Mealasabhal into a lambent vault of violet sky ; a pathway of 
 quivering gold lying across the Loch; a mild radiance 
 glittering here and there on the spars of the small vessel, 
 and out there the great Atlantic lying still and distant as 
 in a dream. As he sat in this little room and thought 
 of all these things, he grew to think he had not acted quite 
 fairly to Sheila. She was so fond of that beautiful island life, 
 and she had not even visited the Lewis since her marriage 
 She should go now. He would abandon the trip to the 
 Tyrol, and as soon as arrangements could be made they 
 would together start for the North, and some day find them- 
 selves going up the steep shore to Sheila's home, with the 
 old King of Borva standing in the porch of the house, and 
 endeavoring to conceal his nervousness by swearing at 
 Duncan's method of carrying the luggage. 
 
 Had not Sheila's stratagem succeeded ? That pretty trick 
 of hers in decorating the room so as to resemble the house at 
 Borvapost had done all that she could have desired. But 
 where was she ? 
 
 Lavender rose hastily and looked at his watch. Then he 
 rang the bell, and a servant appeared. "Did not Mrs. 
 Lavender say when she would return ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " You don't know where she went ? " 
 
 " No, sir. The young lady's luggage was put in the cab, 
 and they drove away without leaving any message." 
 
 He scarcely dared confess to himself what fears began to 
 assail him. He went up-stairs to Sheila's room, and there 
 everything appeared to be in its usual place, even to the 
 smallest article on the dressing-table. 1 hey were all there, 
 except one. That was a locket, too large and clumsy to be 
 worn, which some one had given her years before she left 
 Lewis, and in which her father's portrait had been somewhat 
 rudely set. Just after their marriage Lavender had taken 
 out this portrait, touched it up a bit into somewhat of a bet- 
 ter likeness, and put it back; and then she had persuaded 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 him to have a photograph of himself colored and placed on 
 the opposite side. This locket open, and showing both por- 
 traits, she had fixed on to a small stand, and in ordinary cir- 
 cumstances it always stood on one side of her dressing-table. 
 The stand was there, the locket was gone. 
 
 He went down-stairs again. The afternoon was drawing 
 pn. A servant came to ask him at what hour he wished to 
 (dine; he bade her wait till her mistress came home and con- 
 sult her. Then he went out. 
 
 It was a beautiful, quiet afternoon, with a 'varm light from 
 the West shining over the now yellowing trees of the 
 squares and gardens. He walked down toward Netting Hill 
 Gate Station, endeavoring to convince himself that he was 
 not perturbed, and yet looking somewhat anxiously at the 
 cabs that passed. People were now coming out from their busi- 
 ness in the city by train and omnibus nnd hansom; and 
 they seemed to be hurrying home in very good spirits, as if 
 they were sure of the welcome awaiting them there. Now 
 and again you would see a meeting some demure young 
 person, who had been furtively watchirg the railway station, 
 suddenly showing a brightness in her face as she went for- 
 ward to shake hands with some new arrival, and then trip- 
 ping briskly away with him, her hand on his arm. There 
 were men carrying home fish in srrall bags, or baskets of 
 fruit presents to their wives, doubtless, from town. Occa- 
 sionally an open' carriage would eo by, containing one grave 
 and elderb/ gentleman and a group of small girls probably 
 his daughters, who had gone iito the city to accompany 
 their papa homeward. Why tfid these scenes and incidents, 
 cheerful in themselves, seero to him somewhat saddening as 
 he walked vaguely on? He knew, at least, that there was little 
 use in returning home. There was no one in that silent 
 house in the square. The rooms would bo dark in the twi- 
 light. Probably di^rspr would be laid, with no one to sit 
 down at the table. He wished Sheila had left word where 
 she was going. 
 
 Then he betho'i^ht himself the way in which they had 
 parted, and of *be sense of fear that had struck him the 
 moment he left the house, that after all he had been too 
 harsh with the child. Now, at least, he was ready to apol- 
 ogize to her. If only he could see Sheila coming along in 
 one of thoss hansoms if he could see, at any distance, the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 311 
 
 .figure he knew so well walking toward him on the pavement 
 would he not instantly confess to her that he had been 
 wrong, even grievously wrong, and beg her to forgive him ? 
 She should have it all her ov/n way about going up to Lewis 
 He would, cast aside this society life he had been living, and 
 to please her he would 30 in for any sort of work or amuse- 
 ment of which she approved. He was so anxious, indeed, to 
 put these virtuous resolutions into force that he suddenly 
 turned and walked rapidly back to the house, with the wild 
 hope that Sheila might have already come back. 
 
 The windows were dark, the curtains were yet drawn, and 
 by this time the evening had come on and the lamps in the 
 square had been lit. He let himself into the house by his 
 latch-key. He walked into all the rooms and up to Sheila's 
 room; everything remained as he had left it. The white 
 cloth glimmered in the dusk of the dining-room, and the light 
 of the lamp outside in the street touched here and there the 
 angles of the crystal and showed the pale colors of the 
 glasses. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked in the silence. 
 If Sheila had been lyitig dead in that small room up-stairs, 
 the house could not have appeared more silent and solemn. 
 
 He could not bear this horrible solitude. He called one of 
 the servants and left a message for Sheila, if she cam^ in in 
 the interval, that he would be back at ten o'clock: then he 
 went out, got into a hansom and drove down to his club in 
 St. James' Street. 
 
 Most of the men were dining: the other rooms were almost 
 deserted. He did not care to dine just then. He went into 
 the library: it was occupied by an old gentleman who was 
 fast asleep in an easy-chair. He went into the billiard- 
 rooms, in the vague hope that some exciting game might be 
 going on : there was not a soul in the place, the gases were 
 down, and an odor of stale smoke pervaded the dismal cham- 
 bers. Should he ~o to the theatre ? His sitting there woulc 3 
 be a mockery while this vague and terrible fear was present 
 to his heart. Or go down to see Ingram, as had been his 
 wont in previous hours of trouble ? He dared not go near 
 Ingram without some more definite news about Sheila. In 
 the end he went out into the open air, as if he were in dan- 
 ger of being stifled, and, walking indeterminately on, found 
 himself once more at his own house. 
 
 The (place was still quite dark; he knew before entering 
 
312 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 that Sheila had not returned, and he did not seem to be sur- 
 prised. It was now long after their ordinary dinner hour. 
 When he went into the house he bade the servants light the 
 gas and bring up dinner; he would himself sit down at this 
 solitary table, if only for the purpose of finding occupation 
 and passing this terrible time of suspense. 
 
 It never occurred to him, as it might have occurred to hint 1 
 at one time, that Sheila had made some blunder somewhere 
 and been unavoidably detained. He did not think of any 
 possible repetition of her adventures in Richmond Park. He 
 was too conscious of the probable reason of Sheila's remain- 
 ing away from her own home; and yet from minute to min- 
 'ute he fought with that consciousness, and sought to prove to 
 himself that, after all, she would soon be heard driving up to 
 the door. He ate his dinner in silence, and then drew a 
 chair up to the fire and lit a cigar. 
 
 For the first time in his life he was driven to go over the 
 events that had occurred since his marriage, and to ask him- 
 self how it had all come about that Sheila and he were not as 
 they once had been. He recalled*the early days of their 
 friendship at Borva; the beautiful period of their courtship; 
 the appearance of the young wife in London, and the close 
 relegation of Sheila to the domestic affairs of the house, while 
 he had chosen for himself other companions, other interests, 
 other aims. There was no attempt at self-justification in 
 these communings, but an effort, sincere enough in its way, 
 to understand how all this had happened. He sat and 
 dreamed there before the warmth of the fire, with the slow 
 and monotonous ticking of the clock unconsciously acting on 
 his brain. In time the silence, the warmth, the monotonous 
 sound, produced their natural effects, and he fell fast asleep. 
 
 He awoke with a start. The small silver-toned bell on the 
 mantelpiece had struck the hour of twelve. He looked 
 around, and knew that the evil had come upon him, for 
 Sheila had not returned, and all his most dreadful fears of 
 that evening were confirmed. Sheila had gone away and lefc 
 him. Whither had she gone ? 
 
 Now there was no more indecision in his actions. He got 
 his hat, plunged into the cold night air, and finding a han- 
 som, bade the man drive as hard as he could go down to 
 Sloane Street. There was a light in Ingram's windows, which 
 were on the ground floor; he tapped with his stick on one ^ 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 313 
 
 the panes an old signal that had been in constant use when 
 he and Ingram were close companions and friends. Ingram 
 came to the door and opened it; the light of a lamp glared 
 in on his face. " Halloo, Lavender ! " he said, in a tone of 
 surprise. 
 
 The other could not speak, but he went into the house, 
 and Ingram, shutting the door and following him, found that ' 
 the man's face was deadly pale. 
 
 " Sheila " he said, and stopped. 
 
 "Well, what about her?" said Ingram, keeping quite calm/ 
 but with wild fancies about some terrible accident almost 
 stopping the pulsations of his heart. 
 
 " Sheila has gone away.'* 
 
 Ingram did not seem to understand. 
 
 "'Sheila has gone away, Ingram," said Lavender, in an 
 excited way. "You don't know anything about it? You 
 don't know where she has gone ? What am I to do, Ingram? 
 How am I to find her ? Good God! don't you understand 
 what I tell you ? And now it is past midnight, and my poor 
 girl may be wandering about the streets !" 
 
 He was walking up and down the room, paying almost no 
 attention, in his excitement, to the small, sallow-faced man 
 who stood quite quiet, a trifle afraid, perhaps, but with his 
 heart full of a blaze of anger. 
 
 " She has gone away from your house?" he said, slowly. 
 " What made her do that ?" 
 
 "I did,'' said Lavender, in a hurried way. "I have 
 acted like a brute to her that is true enough. You needn't 
 say anything to me, Ingram; I feel myself far more guilty 
 than anything you could say. You may heap reproaches 
 on me afterward, but tell me, Ingram, what am I to do ? 
 You know what a proud spirit she has; who can tell what 
 she might do ? She wouldn't go home she would be too 
 proud. She may have gone and drowned herself." 
 
 " If you don't control yourself and tell me what has hap- 
 pened, how am I to help you?" said Ingram, stiffly, and 
 yet disposed somehow perhaps for the sake of Sheila, per- 
 haps because he saw that the young man's self-embarrassment 
 and distress were genuine enough not to be too rough 
 with him. 
 
 " Well, you know, Mairi '* said Lavender, still walking 
 up and down the room in an excited way. " Sheila had got 
 
314 A PRINCESS OF THULE 
 
 the girl up here without telling me; some friends of mine 
 were coming home to luncheon; we had some disagreement 
 about Mairi being present, and then Sheila said something 
 about not remaining in the house if Mairi did not; something 
 of that sort. I don't know what it was, but I know it was all 
 my fault, and if she has been driven from the house I did it; 
 that is true enough. And where do you think she has gone, 
 Ingram? If I could only see her for three minutes I would 
 explain everything; I would tell her how sorry lam for every- 
 thing that has happened, and she would see, when she went 
 back, how everything would be right again. I had no idea 
 that she would go away. It was mere peevishness that made 
 me object to Mairi meeting those people; and I had no idea 
 that Sheila would take it so much to heart. Now tell me what 
 you think should be done, Ingram. All I want is to see her 
 just for three minutes to tell her it was all a mistake and that 
 she will never have ta fear anything like that again." 
 
 Ingram heard him out, and said with some precision, "Do 
 you mean to say that you fancy all this trouble is to be got 
 over that way ? Do you know so little of Sheila, after the 
 time you have been married to her, as to imagine that she 
 has taken this step out of some momentary caprice, and that 
 a few words of apology and promise will cause her to rescind 
 it? You must be crazed, Lavender, or else you are actually 
 as ignorant of the nature of that girl as you were up, in the 
 Highlands." 
 
 The young man seemed to calm down his excitement and 
 impatience, but it was because of a new fear that had struck 
 him, and that was visible in his face. 
 
 " Do you think she will never come back, Ingram ?" he 
 said, looking aghast. 
 
 | " I don't know; she may not. At all events, you may be 
 quite sure that, once having resolved to leave your house, she 
 is not to be pacified and cajoled by a few phrases and a prom- 
 ise of repentance on your part. That is quite sure. And 
 what is quite as sure, is this, that if you knew just now where 
 she was, the most foolish thing you could do would be to go 
 and see her." 
 
 " But I must go and see her I must find her out, Ingram, ' 
 he said, passionately. "I don't care what becomes of me. 
 If she won't go back home, so much the worse for me; but I 
 find her out. and know that she is safe. Think of it, 
 
A PRINCESS Of THULfi. 315 
 
 Ingram ! Perhaps she is walking about the streets some- 
 where at this moment; and you know her proud spirit. If 
 she were to go near the river 
 
 '* She won't go near the river," said Ingram, quietly, "and 
 she won't be walking about the streets. She is either in the 
 Scotch mail-train, going up to Glasgow, or else she has got 
 some lodgings somewhere, along with Mairi. Has she any 
 money ?" 
 
 et No, -'said Lavender. And then he thought for a minute. 
 " There was some money her father gave her in case she 
 might want it at a pinch; she may have that I hope she has 
 that. I was to have given her money to-morrow morning. 
 But hadn't I better go to the police-stations, and see, just 
 by way of precaution, that she has not been heard of? I 
 may as well do that as nothing. I could not go home to 
 that empty house I could not sleep." 
 
 " Sheila is a sensible girl: she is safe enough," said Ingram. 
 "And if you don't care about going home, you may as well 
 remain here. I can give you a room up-stairs when you 
 want it. In the meantime, if you will pull a chair to the 
 table and calm yourself, and take it for granted that you will 
 soon be assured of Shei'a's safety, I will tell you what I think 
 you should do. Here is a cigar to keep you occupied; there 
 are whiskey and cold water back there if you like. You will 
 do no good by punching yourself in small matters, for your 
 trouble is likely to be serious enough, I can tell you, before 
 you get Sheila back, if ever you get her back. Take the 
 chair with the cushion."' 
 
 It was so like the old days when these two used to be com- 
 panions! Many and many a time had the younger man 
 come down to these "lodgings, with all his troubles and 
 wild impulses and pangs of contrition ready to be revealed. 
 And then Ingram, concealing the liking he had for the lad's 
 generous waywardness, his brilliant and facile cleverness 
 and his dashes of honest self depreciation, would gravely 
 lecture him and put him right and send him off comforted. 
 Frank Lavender had changed much since then. The 
 handsome boy had grown into a man of the world: there 
 was less self-revelations in his manner, and he was less sen- 
 si' ive to the opinions and criticisms of his old friend; but 
 Ingram, who was not prone to idealism of any sort, had 
 never ceased to believe thax this change was but superficial, 
 
and that, in different circumstances and with different aims, 
 Lavender might still fulfill the best promise of his youth. 
 
 "You have been a good friend to me, Ingram," he said, 
 with a hot blush, " and I have treated you as badly as I 
 have treated by Jove! what a chance I had at one time!" 
 
 He was looking back on all the fair pictures his imagi- 
 nation had drawn while yet Sheila and he were wandering 
 about that island in the Northern seas. 
 
 ''You had," said Ingram, decisively. "At one time I 
 thought you the most fortunate man in the world. There 
 was nothing left for you to desire, so far as I corld sec. You 
 were young and strong, with plenty of good spirits and suf- 
 ficient ability to earn yourself an honorable living, and you 
 had won the love of the most beautiful and best-hearted 
 woman I have known. You never seemed to me to know 
 what that meant. Men marry women there is no difficulty 
 about that and you can generally get an amiable sort of 
 person to become your wife and have a sort of affection for 
 you, and so on. But how many have bestowed on them the 
 pure and exalted passion of a young and innocent girl, who 
 is ready to worship with all the fervor of a warmly imagina- 
 tive and emotional nature the man she has chosen to love ? 
 And suppose he is young, too, and capable of understanding 
 all the tender sentiments of a high-spirited, sensitive and 
 loyal woman, and suppose that he fancies himself as much in 
 love with her as she with him? These conditions are not 
 often fulfilled, I can tell you. It is a happy fluke when they 
 are. Many a day ago I told you that you should consider 
 yourself more fortunate than if you had been made an em- 
 peror; and indeed it seemed to me that you had everything 
 in the shape of worldly happiness easily within your reach. 
 How you came to kick away the ball from your feet well, 
 God only knows. The thing is inconceivable to me. You 
 are sitting here as you used to sit two or three years ago, and 
 in the interval you have had every chance in life; and now. 
 if you are not the most wretched man in London, you ought 
 at least to be the most ashamed and repentant.'" 
 
 Lavender's head was buried in his hands : he did not 
 speak. 
 
 k * And it is not only your own happiness you have des- 
 troyed. When you saw that girl first she was as light-hearted 
 and contented with her lot as any human being could be* 
 
A PRINCESS OF TUULE. Jt) 
 
 From one week's end to the other not the slightest care dis- 
 turbed her mind. And then, when she intrusted her whole 
 life to you when she staked her faith in human nature on 
 you, and gave you all the treasures of hope and reverence 
 and love that lay in her pure and innocent soul my God ! 
 what have you done with these? It is not that you have 
 shamed and insulted her as a wife, and driven her out of her 
 home there are other homes than yours where she would be 
 welcome a thousand times over but you have destroyed her 
 belief in everything she had taught herself to trust, you have 
 outraged the tenderest sentiments of her heart, you have 
 killed her faith as well as ruined her life. I talk plainly; I 
 cannot do otherwise. If I help you now, don't imagine I 
 condone what you have done; I would cut my right hand off 
 first. For Sheila's sake I will try to help you." 
 
 He stopped just then, however, and checked the indigna- 
 tion that had got the better of his ordinarily restrained man. 
 ner and curt speech. The man before him was crying bit- 
 terly, his face hidden in his hands. 
 
 " Look here, Lavender," he said presently, " I don't want 
 to be hard on you. I tell you plainly what I think of youi 
 conduct, so that no delusions may exist between us. And I 
 will say this for you, that the only excuse you have '' 
 
 "There is no excuse," said the other, sadly enough. "I 
 have no excuse, and I know it." 
 
 " The only thing, then, you can say in mitigation of 
 what you have done is that you never seem to have under- 
 stood the girl whom you married. You started with giving 
 her a fancy character when you first went to the Lewis, and 
 once you had got the bit in your teeth, there was no stopping 
 you. If you seek now to get Sheila back to you, the best 
 thing you can do, I presume, would be to try to see her as 
 she is, to win her regard that way, to abandon that operatic 
 business, and learn to know her as a thoroughly good woman, 
 who has her own ways and notions about things, and who 
 has a very definite character underlying that extreme gentle- 
 ness which she fancies to be one of her duties. The child 
 did her dead best to accommodate herself to your idea of 
 her, and failed. When she would rather have been living a 
 brisk and active life in the country or by the seaside, running 
 wild about a hillside, or reading strange stories in the evening, 
 or nursing some fisherman's child that had got ill, you had 
 
318 A PRINCESS OF THULE. < 
 
 her dragged into a sort of society with wliich she had no 
 sympathy whatever. And the odd thing to me is that you 
 yourself seemed to be making an effort that way. You did 
 not always devote yourself to fashionable life. Where are 
 all the old ambitions you used to talk about in the very chair 
 you are now sitting in ? ^ 
 
 " Is there any hope of my getting Sheila back?" he said, 
 looking up at last. There was a vague and bewildered look 
 in his eyes. He seemed incapable of thinking of anything 
 but that. 
 
 " I don't know," said Ingram. "But one thing is certain: 
 you will never get her back to repeat the experiment that has 
 just ended in this desperate way." 
 
 " I should not ask that," he said, hurriedly; "I should 
 not ask that at all. If I could but see her for a moment, I 
 would ask her to tell me everything she wanted, everything 
 she demanded as conditions, and I would obey her. I will 
 promise to do everything that she wishes." 
 
 " If you saw her you could give her nothing but promises," 
 said Ingram. ct Now, what if you were to try to do what you 
 know she wishes, and then go to her?" 
 
 " You mean " said Lavender, glancing up with another 
 startled look on his face. <: You don't mean that I am to re- 
 main away from her a long time go into banishment, as it 
 were and then some day como back to Sheila and beg her 
 to forget all that happened long before ?" 
 
 "I mean something very like that," said Ingram, with 
 composure. "I don't hnow that it would be successful. I 
 have no means of ascertaining what Sheila would think of 
 srch a project whether she would think that she could ever 
 live with you again. 7 ' 
 
 Lavender seemed fairly stunned by the possibility of 
 Sheila's resolving never to see him again, and began to recall 
 what Ingram had many a time said about the strength of pur- 
 pose she could show wh( i occasion needed. 
 
 " If her faith in you is wholly destroyed, your case is hope- 
 less. A woman may cling to her belief in a man through 
 good report and evil report, but if she once loses it, she 
 never recovers it. But there is this hope for you : I know 
 very well that Sheila had a much more accurate notion of 
 you than you ever had of her; and I happen to know, also, 
 that at the very time when you were most deeply distressing 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 319 
 
 her here in London, she held the firm con/iction that your 
 conduct toward her your habits, your very self would 
 alter if you could only be persuaded to get out of the life 
 you have been leading. That was true, at least up to the 
 time of your leaving "Brighton. She believed in youthen. 
 She believed that if you were to cut society altogether, and 
 go and Mve a hardworking life somewhere, you would soon : 
 become once more the man she fell in love with up in! 
 Lewis. Perhaps she was mistaken: I don't say anything 
 about it myself." 
 
 The terribly cool way in which Ingram talked separating, 
 defining, exhibiting, so that he and his companion should 
 get as near as possible to what he believed. to be the truth of 
 the situation was oddly in contrast with the blind and pas- 
 sionate yearning of the other for some glimpse of hope. His 
 whole nature seemed to go out in a cry to Sheila that she 
 would come back and give him a chance of atoning for the 
 past. At length he rose. He looked strangely haggard, and 
 his eyes scarcely seemed to see the things around him. . " I 
 must go home," he said. 
 
 Ingram saw that he merely wanted to get outsido and walk 
 about in order to find some relief from this anxiety and un- 
 rest, and said: " You ought, I think, to stop here and go to 
 bed. But if you would rather go home, I will walk up with 
 you, if you like." 
 
 When the two men went out tne night air smelt sweet and 
 moist, for rain had fallen, and the city trees were still drip- 
 ping with the wet, and rustling in the wind. The weather had 
 changed suddenly, and now, in the deep blue overhead, they 
 knew the clouds were passing swiftly by. Was it the coming 
 light of the morning that seemed to give depth and richness 
 to that dark-blue vault, while the pavements of thestreetsand 
 the houses grew vaguely distinct and gray ? Suddenly, in 
 turning the corner into Piccadilly, they saw the moon appear 
 in a rift of those passing clouds, but it was not the moon- 
 light that shed this pale and wan grayness down the lonely 
 streets. It is just at this moment, when the dawn of the new 
 day begins to tell, that a great city seems at its deadest; and 
 in the profound silence and amid the strange transformations 
 of the cold and growing light a man is thrown in upon him- 
 self, and holds communion with himself, as though he 
 and his own thoughts were all that was left in the 
 
320 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 world. Not a word passed between the two men, and 
 Lavender, keenly sensitive to all such impressions, and now 
 and again shivering slightly, either from cold or nervous ex- 
 citement, walked blindly along the deserted streets, seeing 
 far other things than the tall houses and the drooping trees 
 and the growing light of the sky. 
 
 It seemed to him at this moment that he was looking at 
 Sheila's funeral. There was a great stillness in that small 
 house at Borvapost. There was a boat Sheila's own boat 
 down at the shore there, and there were two or three figures 
 in black in it. The day was gray and rainy ; the sea washed 
 along the melancholy shores; the far hills were hidden in 
 mist. And now he saw some people come out of the house 
 into the rain, and the bronze and bearded men had oars 
 with them, and on the crossed oars there was a coffin placed. 
 They went down the hillside. They put the coffin in the 
 siern of the boat, and in absolute silence, except for the 
 wailing of the women, they pulled away down the dreary 
 Loch Roag till they came to the island where the burial 
 ground is. They carried the coffin up to that small enclo- 
 sure, with its rank grass growing green and the rain falling on 
 the rude stones and memorials. How often had he leaned 
 on that low stone wall, and read the strange inscriptions in 
 various tongues over the graves of mariners from distant coun- 
 tries who had met with their death on this rocky coast ? Had 
 not Sheila herself pointed out to him, with a sad air, how 
 many of these memorials bore the words, "who was 
 drowned;" and that, too, was the burden of the rudely spelt 
 legends beginning "Heir rutt in Gott," or "Her under hviler 
 stovit," and sometimes ending with the pathetic "Wunder- 
 schen ist unsre Hoffnung." The fishermen brought the coffin 
 Jto the newly-made grave, the women standing back a bit, 
 /old Scarlett Macdonald stroking Main's hair, and bidding 
 the girl control her frantic grief, though the old woman her- 
 self could hardly speak for her tears and lamentations. He 
 could read the words "Sheila Mackenzie " on the small sil- 
 ver plate; she had been taken away from all association with 
 him and his name. And who was this old man with the 
 white hair and the white beard, whose hands were tightly 
 clenched, and his lips firm, and a look as of death in the 
 sunken and wild eyes? Mackenzie was gray a year before 
 
 " Ingram," he said, suddenly, and his voice startled his 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 3 ,1 
 
 companion, "do you think it is possible to make Sheila 
 happy again ?" 
 
 " How can I tell ?" said Ingram. 
 
 "You used to know everything sho could wish every- 
 thing she was thinking about. If you find her out now, 
 will you get to know? Will you see whc,t I can do- 
 not by asking her to come back, not by trying to get back 
 my own happiness, but anything, it does not matter what) 
 it is, I can do for her ? If she would rather not sec me 
 again, I will stay away. Will you ask her, Ingram ?" 
 
 "We have got to find her 1 t," said his companion. 
 
 " A young girl like that," said Lavender, taking no heed 
 of the objection, '-surely she cannot always be unhappy. 
 She is so young and beautiful, and takes so much interest 
 in many things; surely she may have a happy life." 
 
 "She might have had." 
 
 " I don't mean with me," said Lavender, with his haggard 
 face looking still more haggard in the increasing light. "I 
 mean anything that can be done any way of life that will 
 make her comfortable and contented again anything that I 
 can do for that. Will you try to find it out, higram?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I will," said the other, who had been thinking 
 with much foreboding of all those possibilities ever since 
 they left Sloane Street, his only gleam of hope being a con- 
 sciousness that this time at least there coma be no doubt of 
 Frank Lavender's absolute sincerity, of his remorse, and his 
 almost morbid craving to make reparation if that were 
 still possible. 
 
 They reached the house at last. There was a dim orange- 
 colored light shining in the passage. Lavender went on and 
 threw open the door of the small room which Sheila had 
 adorned, asking Ingram to follow him. How wild and 
 strange this chamber looked, with the wan glare of the dawn 
 shining on its barbaric decorations from the sea-coast on 
 the shells and skins and feathers that Sheila had placed 
 around ! That white light of the morning was now shining 
 everywhere into the silent and desolate house. Lavender 
 found Ingram a bedroom, and then .he turned away, not 
 knowing what to do. He looked into Sheila's room; there 
 were dresses, bits of finery, and, what not, that he knew so 
 well, but there was no light breathing audible in the silent 
 and empty chamber. He shut the door as reverently as 
 
322 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 though he were shutting it on the dead, and went down- 
 stairs and threw himself, almost fainting with despair and 
 fatigue on the sofa, while the world outside awoke to a new 
 day with all its countless and joyous activities and duties. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 THERE was no letter from Sheila in the morning; and Lav- 
 ender, as soon as the post had come and gone, went up to 
 Ingram's room and woke him. " I am sorry to disturb you, 
 Ingram," he said, " but I am going to Lewis. I shall catch 
 the train to Glasgow at ten." 
 
 " And what do you want to go to Lewis for ?" said Ingram, 
 starting up. " Do you think Sheila would go straight back 
 to her own people with all this humiliation upon her? And 
 supposing she is not there, how do you propose to meet old 
 Mackenzie ?" 
 
 "I am not afraid of meeting any man," said Lavender. 
 " I want to know where Sheila is. And if I see Mackenzie 
 I can only tell him frankly everything that has happened. He 
 is not likely to say anything of me half as bad as what I think 
 of myself." 
 
 " Now listen," said Ingram, sitting up in bed, with his 
 brown beard and grayish hair in a considerably disheveled 
 condition. " Sheila may have gone home, but it isn't likely. 
 If she has not, your taking the story up there and spreading 
 it abroad would prepare a great deal of pain for her when 
 she might come back at some future time. But suppose you 
 want to make sure that she has not gone to her father's 
 house. She could not have got down to Glasgow sooner 
 than this morning by last night's train, you know. It is to- 
 morrow morning, not this morning, that the Stornoway 
 steamer starts; and she would be certain to go direct to it at 
 the Glasgow Broomielaw. and go around the Mull of Cantyre, 
 instead of catching it up at Oban, because she knows the 
 people in the boat, and she and Mairi would be among 
 friends. If you really want to know whether she has gone 
 North, perhaps you could* do no better than run down to 
 Glasgow to-day, and have a look at the boat that starts, to- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 323 
 
 morrow morning. I would go with you myself, but I can't 
 escape the office to-day." 
 
 Lavender agreed to do this, and was about to go. But be- 
 fore he bade his friend good-bye he lingered for a second or 
 two in a hesitating way, and then he said: "Ingram, you 
 were speaking the other night of your going up to Borva. If 
 you should go " 
 
 "Of course I shan't go," said the other, promptly. "How 
 could I face Mackenzie when he began to ask me about 
 Sheila? No, I cannot go to Borva while this affair remains 
 in its present condition; and, indeed, Lavender, I mean to 
 stop in London till I see you out of your trouble somehow." 
 
 " You are heaping coals of fire on my head." 
 
 " Oh, don't look at it that way. If I can be of any help 
 to you, I shall expect, this time, to have a return for it." 
 
 " What do you mean ?'' 
 
 " I will tell you when we get to know something of Shei- 
 la's intentions." 
 
 And so Frank Lavender found himself once more, as in 
 the old times, in the Euston Station, with the Scotch mail 
 ready to start, and all manner of folks bustling about with 
 that unnecessary activity which betokens the excitement of 
 a holiday. What a strange holiday was his! He got into a 
 smoking-carriage in order to be alone, and he looked out on 
 the people who were bidding their friends good-bye. Some 
 of them were not very pretty, many of them were ordinary, 
 insignificant, commonplace looking folks, but it was clear 
 that they had those about them who loved them and thought 
 much of them. There was one man whom, in other cir- 
 cumstances, Lavender would have dismissed with contempt 
 as an excellent specimen of the unmitigated cad. He wore 
 a white waistcoat, puiple gloves, and a green sailor's knot with 
 a diamond in it, and there was a cheery, vacuous smiling ex- 
 pression on his round face as he industriously smoked a 
 cheroot and made small jokes to the friends who had come 
 to see him off. One of them was a young woman, not very 
 good-looking, perhaps, who did not join in the general 
 hilarity, and it occurred to Lavender that the jovial man 
 with the cheroot was, perhaps, cracking his little jokes 
 to keep up her spirits. At all events he called her " my good 
 lass," from time to time, and patted her on the shoulder, and 
 was very kind to her. And when the guard came up and 
 
324 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 bade everybody get in, the man kissed the girl and shook 
 hands with her and bade her good-bye; and then she, 
 moved by some sudden impulse, caught his face in both her 
 hands and kissed him once on each cheek. It was a ridiculous 
 scene. People who wear green ties with diamond pins care 
 nothing for decorum. And yet Lavender, when he averted 
 his eyes from this parting, could not help recalling what 
 Ingram had been saying the night before, and wondered 
 whether this outrageous person with his abominable decora- 
 tions and his genial grin might not be more fortunate than 
 many a great statesman or warrior or monarch. 
 
 He turned around to find the cad beside him; and pres- 
 ently the man, with an abounding good-nature, began to 
 converse with him, and explained that it was 'igh 'oliday 
 with him, for that he had got a pass to travel first class as far 
 as Carlisle. He hoped they would have a jolly time of it to 
 gether. He explained the object of his journey in the frank- 
 est possible fashion, made a kindly little joke upon the hard- 
 ship of parting with one's sweetheart, said that a faint heart 
 never won fair lady, and that it was no good crying overspill 
 milk. She would be all right, and precious glad to see him 
 when he came back in three weeks' time, and he meant to 
 bring her a present that would be good for sore eyes. 
 
 " Perhaps you're a married man, sir, and got past all them 
 games?" said the cad, cheerily. 
 
 " Yes, I am married," said Lavender, coldly. 
 
 "And you're going further than Carlisle, you say, sir? 
 I'll be sworn the good lady is up somewhere in that direc- 
 tion, and she won't be disappointed when she sees you oh, 
 no! Scotch, sir?" 
 
 " I am not Scotch," said Lavender, curtly. 
 
 " And she ?" 
 
 Should he have to throw the man out of the window ? 
 " Yes." 
 
 " The Scotch are a strange race very," said the genial 
 person, producing a brandy flask. " They drink a trifle, 
 don't they? and yet they keep their wits about them if you've 
 dealings with them. A very strange race of people, in my 
 opinion very. Know the story of the master who fancied 
 his man was drunk ? ' Donald, you're trunk,' says he. ' It's 
 a tarn lee,' says Donald. ' Donald, ye ken ye're trunk,' says 
 the master. ' Ah ken ah wish to Kott ah was!' says Donald. 
 Uood story, ain't it. sir ?" . - 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 325 
 
 Lavender had heard the remarkable old joke a hundred 
 times, but just at this moment there was something odd in 
 this vulgar person suddenly imitating, and imitating very 
 well, the Highland accent. Had he been way up in the 
 North ? or had he merely heard the story related by one 
 who had been ? Lavender dared not ask, however, for fear 
 of prolonging a conversation in which he had no wish to 
 join. Indeed, to get rid of the man, he shoved a whole bun- 
 dle of the morning papers into his hand. 
 
 "What's your opinion of politics at present, sir?" ob- 
 served his friend, in an off-hand way. 
 
 ."I haven't any," said Lavender, compelled to take back 
 one of the newspapers and open it. 
 
 " I think myself they're in a bad state; that's my opinion. 
 There ain't a man among them that knows how to keep 
 down those people j that's my opinion, sir. "What do you 
 think ?" 
 
 " Oh, I think so, too," said Lavender. " You'll find a 
 good article in that paper on University Tests." 
 
 The cheery person looked rather blank. 
 
 " I would like to hear your opinion about 'em, sir," he 
 said. " It ain't much good reading only one side of a ques- 
 tion ; but when you can talk about and discuss it, now " 
 
 " I am sorry I can't oblige you," said Lavender, goaded 
 into making some desperate effort to release himself. "I am 
 suffering from a relaxed throat at present. My doctor has 
 warned me against talking too much." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir. You don't seem very well; per- 
 haps the throat comes with a little feverishness, you see a 
 cold, in fact. Now if I was you I would try tannin lozenges 
 for the throat. They're uncommon good for the throat; and 
 a little quinine for the general system that would put you 
 ,as right as a fiver. I tried it myself \. hen I was down in 'Amp- 
 shire last year. And you wouldn't find a drop of this brandy 
 a bad thing, either, if you don't mind rowing in the same 
 boat as myself" 
 
 Lavender declined the proffered flask, and subsided behind 
 a newspaper. His fellow-traveler lit another cheroot, took 
 up Bradshaw, and settled himself in a corner. 
 
 Had Sheila come up this very line some dozen hours 
 before? Lavender asked himself as he looked out on the hills 
 and valleys and woods of Buckinghamshire. Had the throb* 
 
326 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 bing of the engine and the rattle of the wheels kept the 
 piteous eyes awake all through the dark night, until the paie 
 dawn showed the girl a wild vision of Northern hills and moors 
 telling her she was getting nearer to her own country ? Not 
 thus had Sheila proposed to herself to return home on the 
 first holiday time that should occur to them both. He began 
 to think of his present journey as it might have been in other 
 circumstances. Would she have remembered any of those 
 pretty Villages which she saw one early morning long ago, 
 when they were bathed in stinshine and scarcely awake to 
 the new day. Would she be impatient at the delays at the 
 stations, and anxious to hurry on to Westmoreland and 
 Dumfries, to Glasgow and Oban and Skye, and then from 
 Stornoway across the island to the little inn at Garra-na-hina ? 
 
 Here, as he looked out of the window, the first indication 
 of the wilder country became visible in the distant Berk- 
 shire hills. Close at hand the country lay green and bright 
 under a brilliant sun, but over there in the East some heavy 
 clouds darkened the landscape, and the far hills seemed to 
 be placed amid a gloomy stretch of moorland. Would not 
 Sheila have been thrilled by this glimpse of the coming 
 North? She would have fancied that greater mountains lay 
 far behind these rounded slopes hidden in mist. She would 
 have imagined that no human habitations were near those 
 rising plains of sombre hue, where the red deer and the 
 fox ought to dwell. And in her delight at getting away 
 from the fancied brightness of the South, would she not 
 have been exceptionally grateful and affectionate toward 
 himself, and striven to please him with her tender ways ? 
 
 It was not a cheerful journey, this lonely trip to the North. 
 Lavender got to Glasgow that night, and next morning he 
 went down, long before any passengers could have thought 
 of arriving, to the Clansman. He did not go near the big 
 s f eamer, for he was known to the captain and the steward; 
 but he hung about the quays, watching each person who went 
 on board. Sheila certainly was not among the passengers by 
 t'.ie Clansman. 
 
 But she might have gone to Greenock and waited for 
 the steamer there. Accordingly, after the Clansman had 
 started on her voyage, he went into a neighboring hotel 
 and had some breakfast, after which he crossed the bridge 
 to the station and took rail for Greenock, where he arrived 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULtf. 327 
 
 some time before the Clansman made her appearance. He 
 went down to the quay. It was yet early morning, and a 
 cool fresh breeze was blowing in across the broad waters 
 of the Frith, where the sunlight was shining on the white 
 sails of the yachts and on the dipping and screaming sea-gulls. 
 Far away beyond the pale blue mountains opposite, lay the 
 wonderful network of sea-loch and island through which 
 one had to pass to get to the distant Lewis. How gladly at this 
 moment would he have stepped on board the steamer with 
 Sheila, and put out on that gleaming plain of sea, knowing 
 that by and by they would sail into Stornoway harbor and 
 find the wagonette there. They would not hasten the voy- 
 age. She had never been around the Mull of Cantyre, and 
 so he would sit by her side and show her the wild tides meet- 
 ing there, and the long jets of white foam shooting up the 
 great wall of rock. He would show her the coast of Ire- 
 land; and then they would see Islay, of which she had many 
 a ballad and story. They would go through the narrow 
 sound that is overlooked by the gloomy mountains of 
 Jura. They would see the distant islands, where the chief 
 of Colonsay is still mourned for on the still evenings by 
 the hapless mermaiden, who sings her wild song across the 
 sea. They would keep wide of the dangerous currents of 
 Corryvreckan, and by and by they would sail into the harbor 
 of Oban, the beautiful sea-town where Sheila first got a 
 notion of the greatness of the world lying outside of her 
 native island. 
 
 What if she were to come down now from this busy little 
 seaport, which lay under a pale blue smoke, and come out 
 upon this pier to meet the free sunlight and the fresh sea-air 
 blowing all about? Surely at a great distance he could rec- 
 ognize the proud, light step, and the proud, sad face. Would 
 she speak to him, or go past him, with firm lips and piteous 
 eyes, to wait for the great steamer that was now coming along 
 out of the Eastern mist. Lavender glanced vaguely around 
 the quays and the thoroughfares leading to them, but there 
 was no one like Sheila there. In the distance he could hear 
 the throbbing of the Clansman's engines as the big steamer 
 came on through the white p'ain. The sun was warmer now 
 on the bright waters of the Frith, and the distant haze over 
 the pale blue mountains beyond had grown more luminous. 
 Small boats went by, and here and there a yachtsman, scar- 
 
328 A tRlttCESS OF TttULE. 
 
 let-capped and in white costume, was taking a leisurely 
 breakfast on his deck. The sea-gulls circled about, ordippea 
 down on the waters, or chased each other with screams and 
 cries. Then the Clansman sailed into the quay, and there 
 was a flinging of ropes and general hurry and bustle, while 
 people came crowding around the gangways, calling out to 
 each other in every variety of dialect and accent. / 
 
 Sheila was not there. He lingered about, and patiently 
 waited for the starting of the steamer, not knowing how long 
 she ordinarily remained in Greenock. He was in no hurry, 
 indeed, for after the vessel had gone he found himself with a 
 whole day before him, and with no fixed notion as to how it 
 could be passed. In other circumstances "he would have been 
 in no difficulty as to the spending of a bright forenoon and 
 afternoon by the side of the sea. Or he could have run 
 through to Edinburgh and called on some artist friends there. 
 Or he could have crossed the Frith and had a day's ramble 
 among the mountains. But now that he was satisfied that 
 Sheila had not gone home, all his fancies and hopes went 
 back to London; she was in London. And while he was 
 glad that she had not gone straight to her own people with a 
 revelation ot her wrongs, he scarcely dared speculate on what 
 adventures and experiences might have befallen those two 
 girls turned out into a great city, of which they were about 
 equally ignorant. 
 
 The day passed somehow, and at night he was on his way 
 to London. Next morning he went down to "Whitehall 
 and saw Ingram. 
 
 " Sheila has not gone back to the Highlands, so far as 
 I can make out," he said. 
 "So much the better," was the answer. 
 
 "What am I to do? She must be in London, and who 
 knows what may befall her ?" 
 
 "I cannot tell you what you should do. Of course you 
 would like to know where she is; and I fancy she would 
 have no objection herself to letting you know that she was all 
 right, so long as she knew that you would not go near he r . 
 I don't think she has taken so decided a step merely 
 for the purpose of being coaxed back again. That is not 
 Sheila's way." 
 
 " I won't go near her," he said; " I only want to know- 
 that she is safe and well. I will do whatever she likes, but 
 
A PR1NCKSS OF THULK. 32^ 
 
 I must know where she is, and that she has come to no 
 harm." 
 
 " Well," said Ingram, slowly, " I was talking the matter 
 over with Mrs. Lorraine last night " 
 
 "Does she know?" said Lavender, wincing somewhat.- 
 
 " Certainly," Ingram answered. " I did not tell her. I 
 had promised to go up there about something quite different, 
 when she immediately began to tell me the news. Of course 
 it was impossible to conceal such a thing. Don't all the 
 servants about know?'' 
 
 "I don't care who knows," said Lavender, moodily. 
 "What does Mrs. Lorraine say about this affair?" 
 
 " Mrs. Lorraine says that it serves you right," said In- 
 gram, bluntly. 
 
 " Thank her very much! I like candor, especially in a 
 fair weather friend." 
 
 " Mrs. Lorraine is a better friend to you than you imag- 
 ine," Ingram said, taking no notice of the sneer. " When 
 she thought that your going to their house continually was an- 
 noying Sheila, she tried to put a stop to it for Sheila's sake. 
 And now, at this very moment, she is doing her very best to 
 find out where Sheila is; and if she succeeds she means to 
 go and plead your cause with the girl." 
 
 " I will not have her do anything of the kind," said Laven- 
 der, fiercely. "I will plead my own cause with Sheila. I 
 will have forgiveness from Sheila herself alone not brought 
 to me by any intermeddling woman." 
 
 "You needn't call names," said Ingram, coolly. "But I 
 confess I think you are right; and I told Mrs. Lorraine that 
 was what you would doubtless say. In any case she can do 
 no harm in trying to find out where Sheila is." 
 
 "And how does she propose to succeed? Pollaky, the 
 ' Agony ' column, placards, or a bellman ? I tell you, 
 Ingram, I won't have that woman meddle in my affairs 
 coming forward as a Sister of Mercy to heal the wounded, 
 bestowing mock compassion, and laughing all the time." 
 
 " Lavender, you are beside yourself. That woman is one 
 of the most good-natured, shrewd, clever, and amiable 
 women I have ever met. What has enraged you ?" 
 
 "Bah! She's got hold of you, too, has she? I tell you 
 she is a rank impostor." 
 
 *' An impostor !" said Ingram, slowly. " I have heard a 
 
33 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 good many people called impostors. Did it ever occur to 
 you that the blame of the imposture might possibly lie with 
 the person imposed on ? I have heard of people falling into 
 the delusion that a certain modest and simple-minded 
 man was a great politician or a great wit, although he had 
 never claimed to be anything of the kind ; and then when 
 they found out that in truth he was just what he had pre- 
 tended to be, they called out against him as an impostor. I 
 have heard, too, of young gentlemen accusing women of 
 imposture whose only crime was that they did not possess 
 qualities which they had never pretended to possess, but 
 which the young gentlemen fancied they ought to possess. 
 Mrs. Lorraine may be in impostor to you. I think she is a 
 thoroughly good woman, and I know she is a very delight- 
 ful companion. And if vou want to know how she means to 
 find Sheila out, I can tell you. She thinks that Sheila would 
 probably go to a hotel, but -hat afterward she would try to 
 find lodgings with some of the people whom she had got to 
 know through her giving them assistance. Mrs. Lorraine would 
 like to ask your servants about the women who used to come 
 for this help. Then, she thinks, Sheila would probably get 
 some one of these humble friends to call for her letters, for 
 she would like to hear from her father, and she would not 
 care to tell him that she had left your house. There is a 
 great deal of supposition in all this, but Mrs. Lorraine is a 
 shrewd woman, and I would trust to her instinct in such 
 matters a long way. She is quite sure that Sheila would be 
 too proud to tell her father, and very much averse, also, to 
 inflicting so severe a blow on him." 
 
 "But surely," Lavender said hastily, "if Sheila wishes 
 to conceal this affair for a time, she must believe it to be 
 only temporary ? She cannot propose to make the separa- 
 tion final ?'' 
 
 " That I don't know anything about. I would advise 
 you to go and see Mrs. Lorraine." 
 
 "I won't go and see Mrs. Lorraine." 
 
 "Now, this is unreasonable, Lavender, you begin to fancy 
 that Sheila had some sort of dislike to Mrs Lorraine, 
 founded on ignorance, and straightway you think it is your 
 duty to go and hate the woman. Whatever you may 
 think of her, she is willing to do you a service." 
 
 " Will you go, Ingram, and take her to those servants ?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 331 
 
 " Certainly I will, if you comtf ksion me to do so," said 
 Ingram readily. 
 
 "I suppose they all know?" 
 
 " They do." 
 
 " And every one else ? 
 
 "I should think few of your friends would remain 
 in ignorance of it." 
 
 "Ah, well," said Lavender, " if oaly I could get Sheila to 
 overlook what is past this once, I should not trouble my 
 dear friends and acquaintances for their sympathy and con- 
 dolence. By the time I saw them again I fancy they would 
 have forgotten our names." 
 
 There was no doubt of the fact that the news of Sheila's 
 flight from her husband's house had traveled very speedily 
 around the circle of Lavender's friends, and doubtless in due 
 time it reached the ears of his aunt. At all events, Mrs. 
 Lavender sent a message to Ingram, asking him to come and 
 see her. When he wenc he found the little dry, hard-eyed 
 woman in a terrible passion. She had forgotten all about 
 Marcus Aurelius and the composure of a philosopher, and 
 the effect of anger on the nervous system. She was bolstered 
 up in bed, for she had had another bad fit, but she was brisk 
 enough in her manner and fierce enough in her language. 
 
 "Mr. Ingram," she said, the moment he had entered, " do 
 you consider my nephew a beast ?" 
 
 " I don't," he said. 
 
 " I do," she retorted. 
 
 " Then you are quite mistaken, Mrs. Lavender. Probably 
 you have heard some exaggerated story of all this business. 
 He has been very inconsiderate and thoughtless, certainly, 
 but I don't believe he quite knew how sensitive his wife was; 
 and he is very repentant now, and I know he will keep his 
 promises." 
 
 " You would apologize for the devil," said the little old 
 woman, frowning. 
 
 * I would try to give him his due, at all events," said In- 
 gram, with a laugh. " I know Frank Lavender very well I 
 have known him for years and I know there is good stuff in 
 him, which may be developed in proper circumstances. 
 After all, what is there more common than for a married man 
 to neglect his wife? He only did unconsciously and 
 thoughtlessly what heaps of men do deliberately." 
 
332 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " You are making me angry," said Mrs. Lavender, in a 
 severe voice. 
 
 " I don't think it fair to expect men to be demigods," 
 Ingram said, carelessly. " I never met any demigods my- 
 self; they don't live in my neighborhood. Perhaps if I had 
 had some experience of a batch of them, I should be more 
 censorious of other people, If you set up Frank for a Bay- 
 'ard, is it his fault or yours?" 
 
 " I am not going to be talked out of my common sense, 
 and me on my death-bed," said the old lady, impatiently, 
 and yet with some secret hope that Ingram would go on talk- 
 ing and amuse her. " I won't have you say he is anything 
 but a stupid and ungrateful boy, who married a wife far too 
 good for him. He is worse than that he is much worse than 
 that; but as this may be my death-bed, I will keep a civil 
 tongue in my head." 
 
 " I thought you didn't like his wife very much ?" said In- 
 gram. 
 
 " I am not bound to like her because I think badly of 
 him, am I ? She was not a bad sort of a girl, after all 
 temper a little stiff, perhaps; but she was honest. It did 
 one's eyes good to look at her bright face. Yes, she was a 
 good sort of a creature in her way. But when she ran off 
 from him, why didn't she come to me ?" 
 
 " Perhaps you never encouraged her." 
 
 " Encouragement ! Where ought a married woman go 
 to but to her husband's relatives? If she cannot stay with 
 him, let her take the next best substitute. It was her duty to 
 come to me." 
 
 " If Sheila had fancied it to be her duty, she would have 
 come here at any cost." 
 
 " What do you mean, Mr. Ingram ?" said Mrs. Lavender, 
 severely. 
 
 ' "Well, supposing she didn't like you " he was beginning 
 to say cautiously, when she sharply interrupted him: 
 "She didn't like me, eh?" 
 
 " I said nothing of the kind. I was about to say that if 
 she had thought it her duty to come here, she would have 
 come in any circumstances." 
 
 " She might have done worse. A young woman risks a 
 great deal in running away from her husband's home. 
 People will talk. Who is to make neoo'e believe just the 
 
A PRINCESS .OF THULE. 333 
 
 version of the story that the husband or the wife would 
 prefer?" 
 
 "And what does Sheila care," said Ingram, with a hot flush 
 in his face, " for the belief of a lot of idle gossips and 
 slanderers ?" 
 
 " My dear Mr. Ingram," said the old lady, " you are not ( 
 a woman, and you don't know the bother one has to look; 
 after one's reputation. But that is a question not likely to'' 
 interest you. Let us talk of something else. Do you know 
 why I wanted you to come and see me to-day ?" 
 
 " I am sure I don't." 
 
 " I mean to leave you all my money." 
 
 He stared. She did not appear to be joking. Was it pos- 
 sible that her rage against her nephew had carried her to this 
 extreme resolve ? 
 
 " Oh !" he stammered, " but I won't have it, Mrs. Laven- 
 der." 
 
 " But you'll have to have it," said the little old woman, se- 
 verely. " You are a poor man. You could make good use 
 of my money better than a charity board that would starve 
 the poor with a penny out of each shilling, and spend the 
 other elevenpence in treating their friends to flower-shows and 
 dinners. Do you think I mean to leave my money to such 
 people ? You shall have it. I think you would look very well 
 driving a mail-phaeton in the park; and I suppose you would 
 give up your pipes and your philosophy and your bachelor 
 walks into the country. You would marry, of course; every 
 man is bound to make a fool of himself that way as soon as he 
 gets money enough to do it with. But perhaps you might 
 come across a clever and sensible woman, who would look 
 after you and give you your own way while having her own. 
 Only don't marry a fool. Whatever you do don't marry a 
 fool, or all your philosophers won't make the house beara- 
 ble to you." 
 
 " I am not likely to marry anybody, Mrs. Lavender," said 
 Ingram, carelessly. 
 
 " Is there no woman you know whom you would care to 
 marry ?" 
 
 " Oh," he said, " there is one woman yes who seems to 
 me about everything a man could wish, but the notion of my 
 marrying her is absurd. If I had known in time, don't you 
 see. that I should ever think of such a thing, I should have 
 
334 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 begun years ago to dye my hair. I can't begin now. Gray 
 hair inspires reverence, I believe, but it is a bad thing to go 
 courting with." 
 
 " You must not talk foolishly," said the little old lady, with 
 a frown. " Do you think a sensible woman wants to marry a 
 boy who will torment her with his folly and his empty head 
 and his running after a dozen different women? Gray hair! 
 /If you think gray hair is a bad thing to go courting with, I 
 will give you something better. I will put something in your 
 head that will make the young lady forget your gray hair. 
 Oh, of course you will say that she cannot be tempted, and 
 that she despises money. If so, how much the better? but I 
 have known more women than you, and my hair is grayer 
 than yours, and you will find that a little money won't stand 
 in the way of your being accepted." 
 
 He had made some gesture of protest, not against her 
 speaking of the possible marriage, which scarcely interested 
 him so remote was the possibility, but against her returning 
 to this other proposal. And when ne saw the old woman 
 really meant to do this thing, he found it necessary to de- 
 clare himself explicitly on the point. 
 
 "Oh, don't imagine, Mrs. Lavender," he said, "that I 
 have any wild horror of money, or that I suppose any one 
 else would have. I should like to have five times or ten 
 times as much as you seem generously disposed to give me. 
 But here is the point, you see. I am a- vain person. I am 
 very proud . of my own opinion of myself, and if I ac- 
 ceded to what you propose if I took your money I sup- 
 pose I should be driving about in that fine phaeton you speak 
 of. Tnat is very good. I like driving, and I should be 
 pleased with the appearance of the trap and the horses. 
 But what do you fancy I should think of myself what 
 would be my opinion of my own nobleness and generosity 
 and humanity if I saw Sheila Mackenzie walking by on the 
 pavement, without any carriage to drive in, perhaps without 
 a notion as to where she was going to get her dinner? I 
 should be a great hero to myself then, shouldn't I?" 
 
 " Oh, Sheila again !" said the old woman in a tone of 
 vexation. "I can't imagine what there is in that girl to 
 make men rave so about her. That Jew-boy is become a 
 thorough nuisance; you would fancy she had just stepped 
 down out of the clouds to present him with a gold harp, and 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 335 
 
 that he couldn't look up to her face. And are you just as 
 bad. You are worse, for you don't blow it off in steam. 
 Well, there need be no difficulty. I meant to leave the girl 
 in your charge. You take the money and look after her; I 
 know she won't starve. Take it in trust for her, if you 
 like." 
 
 "But that is a fearful responsibility, Mrs. Lavender," he 
 said in dismay. " She is a married woman. Ker husband is 
 the proper person 
 
 "I tell you, I won't give him a farthing!" she said, with a 
 sudden sharpness that startled him " not a farthing! If he 
 wants money let him work for it, as other people do; and 
 then, when he has done that, if he is to have any of my 
 money, he must be beholden for it to his wife and to you." 
 
 " Do you think that Sheila would accept anything that she 
 would not immediately hand over to him?" 
 
 " Then he must come first to you." 
 
 " I have no wish to inflict humiliation on any one," said 
 Ingram, stiffly. "I don't want to play the part of a little 
 Providence, and mete out punishment in that way. I might 
 have to begin with myself." 
 
 " Now, don't be foolish," said the old lady, with a men- 
 acing composure. "I give you fair warning; the next fit 
 will do for me. If yo\i don't care to take my money, and 
 keep it in trust for this girl you profess to care so much 
 about, I will leave it to found an institution, mind you. I 
 mean to teach people what they should eat and drink, and 
 the various effects of food on various constitutions." 
 
 " It is an important subject," Ingram admitted. 
 
 " Is it not ? What is the use of giving people laborious 
 information about the idle fancies of generations that lived 
 ages before they were born, while you are letting them 
 poison their system, and lay up for themselves a fearfully 
 painful old age, by the continuous use of unsuitable food? 
 That book you gave me, Mr. Ingram, is a wonderful book, 
 but it gives you little consolation if you know another fit 
 is coming on. And what is the good of knowing about 
 Epictetus and Zeno and the rest ifyouv'e got rheumatism? 
 Now, I mean to have classes to teach people what they 
 should eat and drink; and I'll do it if you won't assume 
 "*he guardianship of my nephew's wife." 
 
 " But this is the wildest notion I ever heard of," Ingram 
 
J3& A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 protested again. "How can I take charge of her? If 
 Sheila, herself, had shown any disposition to place herself 
 under your care, it might have been different." 
 
 " Oh, it would have been different 1" cried the old lady, 
 with a shrill laugh. "It would have been different! And 
 what did you say about her sense of duty to her husband's 
 relatives ? Did you say anything about that ?" 
 
 " Well " Ingram was about to say, being lost in amaze- 
 ment at the odd glee of this withered old creature. 
 
 " Where do you think a young wife should go if she runs 
 off from her husband's house?" cried Mrs. Lavender, appar- 
 ently much amused by his perplexity. " Where can she 
 best escape calumny ? Poor man ! I won't frighten you 
 or disturb you any longer. Ring the bell, will you? I want 
 Paterson." 
 
 Ingram rang. 
 
 "Paterson," said Mrs. Lavender, when the tall and grave 
 woman appeared, " ask Mrs. Lavender if she can come here 
 for a few minutes." 
 
 Ingram looked at the old woman to see if she had gone 
 mad, and then, somehow, he instinctively turned to the door. 
 He fancied he knew that quick, light step. And then, be- 
 fore he well knew how, Sheila had come forward to him with 
 her hands outstretched and with something like a smile on her 
 pale face. She looked at him for a second ; she tried to 
 speak to him, but there was a dangerous quivering of the 
 lips, and then she suddenly burst into tears, and let go his 
 hands and turned away. In that brief moment he had seen 
 what havoc had been wrought within the past two or three 
 days. There were the same proud and handsome features, 
 but they were pale and worn, and there was a piteous and 
 weary look in the eyes that told of the trouble and heart- 
 rending of sleepless nights. 
 
 " Sheilj," he said, following her and taking her hand, 
 " d* es any one know of your being here ?'' 
 
 " No," she said, still holding her head aside and downcast; 
 " no one. And I do not wish any one to know. I am going 
 away." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Don't you ask too much, Mr. Ingram,' 1 said the old lady ; 
 from amid her cushions and curtains. " Give her that am- 
 monia the stopper only. Now, sit down, child, and dry 
 
A PRINCESS OF 1 THULE. 337 
 
 your eyes. You need not be ashamed to show Mr. Ingram 
 that you knew where you ought to come when you left your 
 husband's house. And if you won't stop here, of course I 
 can't compel you, though Mr. Ingram will tell you you 
 might do worse." 
 
 " Sheila, why do you wish to go away ? Do you mean to 
 go back to the Lewis ?" 
 
 "Oh, no, no !" she said, almost shuddering. 
 
 " Where do you wish to go?" 
 
 "Anywhere it does not matter. But I cannot remain 
 here. I should meet with with many people I used to 
 know. Mrs. Lavender, she is kind enough to say she will 
 get me some place for Mairi and me ; that is all, as yet, that 
 is settled.'' 
 
 "Is Mairi with you?" 
 
 "Yes: I will go and bring her to you. It is not any one 
 in London she will want to see as much as you." 
 
 Sheila left the room, and by and by came back, leading 
 the young Highland girl by the hand. Mairi was greatly 
 embarrassed, scarcely knowing whether she should show any 
 gladness at meeting this old friend amid so much trouble. 
 But when Ingram shook hands with her, and after she had 
 blushed and looked shy and said, " And are you ferry well, 
 sir?" she managed somehow to lift her eyes to his face; and 
 then she said suddenly: "And it is a good day, this day, for 
 Miss Sheila, that you will come to see her, Mr. Ingram, for 
 she will hef a friend now.'' 
 
 " You silly girl," said Mrs. Lavender, sharply, "why will 
 you siy ' Miss Sheila?' Don't you know she is a married 
 woman ?" , 
 
 Mairi glanced in a nervous and timid manner toward the 
 bed. She was evidently afraid of the little shrivelled old woman 
 with the staring black eyes and the harsh voice. 
 
 " Mairi hasn't forgotten her old habits, that is all," said 
 Ingram, patting her good-naturedly on the head. 
 
 And then he sat down again, and it seemed so strange to 
 see these two together again, and to hear the odd inflection 
 of Mairi's voice, that he almost forgot that he had made a 
 great discovery in learning of Sheila's whereabouts, and 
 wholly forgot that he had just been offered, and had just 
 refused, a fortune. 
 
338 A PRINCESS OF THULK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 MEETING AND PARTING. 
 
 THE appearance of Sheila in Mrs. Lavender's house cer- 
 tainly surprised Ingram, but the motives which led her to go 
 thither were simple enough. On the morning on which she 
 had left her husband's house, she and Mairi had been driven 
 up to Euston Square Station before she seemed capable of 
 coming to any decision. Mairi guessed at what had happened 
 with a great fear at her heart, and did not dare to speak of 
 it. She sat, mute and frightened, in a corner of the cab, and 
 only glanced from time to time at her companion's pale face 
 and troubled and distant eyes. 
 
 They were driven in to the station. Sheila got out, still 
 seeming to know nothing of what was around her. The cab- 
 man took down Mairi's trunk and handed it to a porter. 
 
 " Where for, miss?" said the man. And she started. 
 
 "Where will you be going, Miss Sheila?" said Mairi, 
 timidly. 
 
 " It is no matter just now," said Sheila to the porter, "if 
 you will be so kind as to take charge of the trunk. And 
 how much must I pay the cabman from Netting Hill ?" 
 
 She gave him the money and walked into the great stone- 
 paved hall, with its lofty roof and sounding echoes. 
 
 "Mairi," she said, "I have gone away from my own 
 home, and I have no home for you or myself either. What 
 are we to do?" 
 
 " Are you quite sure, Miss Sheila," said the girl, dismayed 
 beyond expression, "that you will not go back to your own 
 house ? It wass a bad day this day that I wass come to Lon- 
 don to find you going away from your own house;" and 
 Mairi began to cry. " Will we go back to the Lewis, Miss 
 Sheila?" she said. "It is many a one there will be proud 
 and pleased to see you again in sa Lewis, and there will be 
 plenty of homes for you there oh yes, ferry many that will 
 be glad to see you! And it wa^s a bad day sa 
 day you left the Lewis whatever; and if you will go back 
 again, Miss Sheila, you will neffer hef to go away again, not 
 any more." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 339 
 
 Sheila looked at the girl at the pretty pale face, the 
 troubled light-blue eyes and the abundant fair-yellow hair. It 
 was Mairi, sure enough, who was talking to her, and yet it 
 was in a strange place. There was no sea dashing outside, 
 no tide running in from the Atlantic. And where was old 
 Scarlett, with her complaints and her petulance and heij 
 \notherly kindness? 
 
 "It is a pity you have come to London, Mairi," Sheila 
 said, wistfully; " for I have no house to take you into, and 
 we must go now and find one." 
 
 "You will not go back to sa Lewis, Miss Sheila?" 
 
 " They would not know me in the Lewis any more, Mairi. 
 I have been too long away, and I am quite changed. It is 
 many a time I will think of going back; but when I left the 
 Lewis I was married, and now , How could I go back to 
 the Lewis, Mairi ? They would look at me. They would 
 ask questions. My father would come down to the quay, and 
 he would say: ' Sheila, have you come back alone ?' And 
 all the story of it would go about the island, and every one 
 would say I had been a bad wife, and my husband had gone 
 away from me." 
 
 "There is not any one," said Mairi, with the tears starting 
 to her eyes again " not from one end of sa island to sa 
 other would say that of you, Miss Sheila; and there is no 
 one would not come to meet you, and be glad sat you will 
 come again to your own home. And as for going back, I 
 will be ferry glad to go back whatever, for it was you I was 
 come to see, and not any town; and I do not like this town, 
 what I hef seen of it, and I will be ferry glad to go away wis 
 you, Miss Sheila." 
 
 Sheila did not answer. She felt that it v/as impossible she 
 could go back to her own people with this disgrace upon 
 her, and did not even argue the case with herself. All her 
 trouble now was to find some harbor of refuge into which she 
 could flee, so that she might have quiet and solitude, and an 
 opportunity of studying all that had befallen her. The noiss 
 around her the arrival of travelers, the transference of lug- 
 gage, the screaming of trains stunned and confused her; 
 and she could only vaguely think of all the people she knew 
 in London, to see to whom see could go for advice and di* 
 rectioa They were not many. One after the other she 
 went over the acquaintances she had made, and not one of 
 
340 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 them appeared to her in the light of a friend. One friend she 
 had who would have rejoiced to be of the least assistance to 
 her, but her husband had forbidden her to hold communica- 
 tion with him, and she felt a strange sort of pride, even at 
 this moment, in resolving to obey that injunction. In all this 
 great city that lay around her there was no other to whom 
 she could frankly and readily go. That one friend she had 
 possessed before she came to London: in London she had 
 not made another. 
 
 And yet it was necessary to do something, for who could 
 tell but that her husband might come to this station in 
 search of her? Mairi's anxiety, too, was increasing every 
 moment, insomuch that she was fairly trembling with 
 excitement and fatigue. Sheila- resolved that she would go 
 down and throw herself on the tender mercies of that ter- 
 rible old lady in Kensington Gore. For one thing, she 
 instinctively sought the help of a woman in her present 
 plight; and perhaps this harshly-spoken old lady would be 
 gentle to her when all her story was told. Another thing 
 that prompted this decision was a sort of secret wish to 
 identify herself even yet with her husband's family to 
 prove to herself, as it were, that they had not cast her off as 
 being unworthy of him. Nothing was farther from her 
 mind at this moment than any desire to pave the way for 
 reconciliation and reunion with her husband. Her whole 
 anxiety was to get away from him, to put an end to a state 
 of things which she had found to be more than she could bear. 
 And yet if she had had friends in London called respect- 
 ively Mackenzie and Lavender, and if she had been equally 
 intimate with both, she would at this moment have preferred 
 .to go for help to those bearing the name of Lavender. 
 
 There was doubtless something strangely inconsistent in 
 this instinct of wifely loyalty and duty in a woman who had 
 just voluntarily left her husband's house. Lavender had de- 
 sired her not to hold communication with Edward Ingram; 
 even now she would respect his wish. Lavender would pre- 
 fer that she should in any great extremity go to his aunt for 
 assistance and counsel; and to his aunt, despite her 
 own dislike of the woman, she would go. At this moment, 
 when Sheila's proud spiri': had risen up in revolt against a 
 system of treatment that had become insufferable to her, 
 when she had been forced to leave her home and incur the 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. $4t 
 
 Contemptuous compassion of friends and acquaintances, if 
 Edward Ingram himself had happened to meet her, and had 
 begun to say sharp things of Lavender, she would have sharply 
 recalled him to a sense of discretion that one must use in 
 speaking to a wife of her husband. 
 
 The two homeless girls got into another cab, and were 
 driven down to Kensington Gore. Sheila asked if she could 
 see Mrs. Lavender. She knew that the old lady had had 
 another bad fit; but she was supposed to be recovering 
 rap : dly. Mrs. Lavender would see her in her bedroom, and 
 so Sheila went up. The girl could not speak. 
 
 "Yes, I see it something wrong about that precious hus- 
 band of yours," said the old lady, watching her keenly. " I 
 expected it. Go on. What is the matter ?" 
 
 " I have left him," Sheila said, with her face very pale, but 
 no sign of emotion about the firm lips. 
 
 "Oh, good gracious, child ! Left him ? How many people 
 know it ?" 
 
 " No one but yourself and a young Highland girl, who has 
 come up to see me." 
 
 "You came to me, first of all?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Have you no other friends to go to?" 
 
 " I considered that I ought to come to you." 
 
 There was no cunning in the speech ; it was the simple 
 truth. Mrs. Lavender looked at her hard for a second or 
 two, and then said, in what she meant to be a kind way: 
 "Come here, and sit down, child, and tell me all about it. 
 If no one else knows it there is no harm done. We can easily 
 patch it up before it gets abroad." 
 
 "I did not come to you for that, Mrs. Lavender," said 
 Sheila, calmly. " That is impossible; that is all over. I have 
 come to ask you where I can get lodgings for my friend and 
 myself." 
 
 " Tell me all about it first, and then we'll see whether it 
 can't be mended. Mind, I am on your side, though I am 
 your husband's aunt. I think you're a good girl; a bit of a 
 temper, you know, but you manage to keep it quiet ordinarily. 
 You tell me all about it, and you'll see if I haven't means 
 to bring him to reason. Oh, yes, oh, yes, I'm an old woman, 
 but I can find some means to bring him to reason." And 
 she laughed an odd, shrill laugh. 
 
A hot flush came over Sheila's face. Had she come to this 
 old woman only to make her husband's degradation more 
 complete? Was he to be intimidated into making friends 
 with her by a threat of the withdrawal of that money that 
 Sheila had begun to detest ? And this was what her notions 
 of wifely duty had led to! 
 
 " Mrs. Lavender," she said, with the proud lips very proud 
 indeed, " I must say this to you before I tell you anything. 
 It is very good of you to say you will take my side, but I did 
 not come to you to complain. And I would rather not have 
 any sympathy from you if it only means that you will speak 
 ill of my husband. And if you think you can make him do 
 things because you give him money, perhaps that is true at 
 present, but it may not always be true, and you cannot expect 
 me to wish it to continue. I would rather have my present 
 trouble twenty times over than see him being brought over 
 to any woman's wishes." 
 
 Mrs. Lavender stared at her. "Why, you astonishing girl, 
 I believe you are still in love with that man I" 
 
 Sheila said nothing. 
 
 " Is it true ?" she said. 
 
 " I suppose a woman ought to love her husband," Sheila 
 answered. 
 
 "Even if he turns her out of the -house?" 
 
 "Perhaps it is she who is to blame," Sheila, said, humbly, 
 " Perhaps her education was wrong, or she expects too 
 much that is unreasonable, or perhaps she has a bad temper. 
 You think I have a bad temper, Mrs. Lavender, and might it 
 not be that?'' 
 
 " Well, I think you want your own way, and doubtless you 
 expect to have it now. I suppose I am to listen to all your 
 story, and I must not say a word about my own nephew. But 
 sit down and tell me all about it, and then you can justify 
 him afterward, if yo*: like it." 
 
 It was probably, however, the notion that Sheila would try 
 to justify Lavender nil through that put th: old lady on her 
 guard, and made her. indeed, regard Lavender's conduct in 
 an unfairly bad light. Sheila told the story i > simply as she 
 could, putting everything down to her husband's advantage 
 thai; was possible, and asking for no sympathy whatsoever. 
 She only wanted to remain away from his house; and by 
 what means could she and this young cousin of hers 
 
fi PRINCESS OF THULE, 343 
 
 cheap lodgings where they could live quietly and without 
 much fear of detection? 
 
 Mrs. Lavender was in a rage, and as she was not allowed 
 to veut it on the proper object, she turned upon Sheila her- 
 self, " The Highlanders are a proud race," she said sharply. 
 " I should have thought that rooms in this house, even with 
 the society of a cantankerous old woman, would have been 
 tolerated for a time." 
 
 " It is very kind of you to make the offer," Sheila said, 
 " but I do not wish to have to meet my husband or any of 
 his friends. There is enough trouble without that, If you 
 could tell me where to get lodgings not far from this neigh- 
 borhood, I would come to see you sometimes at such hours 
 as I know he cannot be here." 
 
 " But I don't understand what you mean. You won't go 
 back to your husband, although I could manage that for you 
 directly you won't hear of negotiations, or of any prospect 
 of your going back and yet you won't go home to your 
 father." 
 
 " I cannot do either," Sheila said. 
 
 " Do you mean to live in these lodging always?" 
 
 " How can I tell?" said the girl, piteously. " I only wish 
 to be away, and I cannot go back to my papa, with all this 
 story to tell him." 
 
 " Well, I didn't want to distress you," said the old woman. 
 " You know your own affairs best. I think you are mad. 
 If you would calmly reason with yourself, and show to your- 
 self that in a hundred years, or less than that, it won't mat- 
 ler whether you gratified your pride or no, you would see 
 that the wisest thing you can do now is to take an easy and 
 comfortable course. You are in an excited and nervous state 
 at present, for example; and that is destroying so much of 
 the vital portion of your frame. If you go into these lodgings 
 and live like a rat in a hole, you will have nothing to do but 
 to nurse these sorrows of yours, and find them grow bigger 
 and bigger while you grow more and more wretched. All 
 that is mere pride and sentiment and folly. On the other 
 hand, look at this. Your husband is sorry you are away 
 from him; yoa may take that for granted. You say he was 
 merely thoughtless; now he has got something to make him 
 think, and would, without doubt, come and beg your par- 
 don if you gave him a chanci. I write to him, he comes 
 
344 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 down here, you kiss and make good friends again, and to- 
 morrow morning you are comfortable and happy again. 
 
 " To-morrow morning !" said Sheila sadly. " Do you 
 know how we should be situated to-morrow morning ? 
 The story of my going away would become known to his 
 friends; he would go among them as though he had suffered 
 some disgrace, and I the cause of it. And though he is a 
 man, and would soon be careless of that, how could I go 
 with him amongst his friends, and feel that I had shamed 
 him ? It would be worse than ever between us; and I have 
 no wish to begin again what ended this morning none at 
 all, Mrs. Lavender." 
 
 " And do you mean to say that you intend to live per- 
 manently apart from your husband?" 
 
 " I do not know," said Sheila, in a despairing tone. " I 
 cannot tell you. What I feel is that, with all this trouble, it 
 is better that our life as it was in that house should come to 
 an end." 
 
 Then she arose. There was a tired look about the face, as 
 if she were too weary to care whether this old woman would 
 help her or no. Mrs. Lavender regarded her for a moment, 
 wondering, perhaps, that a girl so handsome, fine-colored, 
 and proud-eyed should be distressing herself with imaginary 
 sentiments, instead of taking life cheerfully, enjoying the 
 hour as it passed, and being quite assured of the interest and 
 liking and homage of every one with whom she came in 
 contact. Sheila turned to the bed once more, about to say 
 that she had troubled Mrs. Lavender too much already, and 
 that she would look after these lodgings. But the old woman 
 apparently anticipated as much, and said, with much delib- 
 eration, that if Sheila and her companion would only remain 
 one or two days in the house, proper rooms should be pro- 
 jvided for them somewhere. Young girls could not venture 
 into lodgings without strict inquiries being made. Sheila 
 ' should have suitable rooms, and Mrs. Lavender would see 
 that she was properly looked after and that she wanted 
 for nothing. In the meantime she must have some money. 
 
 "It is kind of you,'' said the girl, blushing hotly, "but I 
 do not require it." 
 
 "Oh, I suppose we are too proud," said the old woman. 
 " If we disapprove of our husband taking money, we must 
 not do it either. Why, child, you have learnt nothing in 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 345 
 
 London. You are a savage yet. You must let me give you 
 something for your pocket, or what are you to do ? You 
 say you have left everything at home. Do you think hair- 
 brushes, for example, grow on trees; that you can go into 
 Kensington Gardens and stock your rooms?" 
 
 " I have some money a few pounds that my papa gave 
 me," Sheila said. 
 
 " And when that is done ?" 
 
 " He will give me more." 
 
 "And yet you don't wish him to know you have left your 
 husband's house! What will he make oi these repeated 
 demands for money?" 
 
 "My papa will give me anything I want without asking 
 any questions." 
 
 ''Then he is a bigger fool than I expected. Oh, don't 
 get into a temper again. Those sudden shocks of color, 
 child, show me that your heart is out of order. How can 
 you expect to have a regular pulsation if you flare up at any- 
 thing one may say? Now go and fetch me your Highland 
 cousin.'* 
 
 Mairi came into the room in a very timid fashion, and 
 stared with her big, light-blue eyes into the dusky recess in 
 which the little old woman sat up in bed. Sheila took her 
 forward: " This k. my cousin Mairi, Mrs. Lavender." 
 
 " And are you ferry well, ma'am?" said Mairi, holding out 
 her hand very much as a boy pretends to hold out his hand 
 to a tiger in the Zoological Gardens. 
 
 "Well, young lady," said Mrs. Lavender, staring at her, 
 '' and a pretty mess you have got us into ?" 
 
 "Me!" said Mairi, almost with a cry of pain. She had not 
 imagined before that she had anything to do with Sheila's 
 trouble. 
 
 "No, no, Mairi," her companion said, taking her hand, 
 " it was not you. Mrs. Lavender, Mairi does not under- 
 stand our way of joking in London. Perhaps she will learn 
 before she goes back to the Highlands." 
 
 " There is one thing," said Mrs. Lavender, observing that 
 Mairi's eyes had filled the moment she was charged with 
 bringing trouble on Sheila " there is one thing you people 
 from the Highlands seem never disposed to learn, and thai; 
 i- to have a little control over your passions. If one speaks 
 ^> you a couple of words, you either begin to cry or go off 
 
346 A PRINCESS OF TIIULE. 
 
 into a flash of rage. Don't you know how bad that is for the 
 health?" 
 
 " And yet," said Sheila with a smile and it seemed so 
 strange to Mairi to see her smile " we will not compare 
 badly in health with the people about us here." 
 
 Mrs. Lavender dropped the question, and began to ex- 
 plain to Sheila what she advi:ed her to do. In the mean- 
 time both the girls were to remain in her house. She would 
 guarantee their being met by no one. When suitable rooms 
 had been looked out by Paterson, they were to remove 
 thither. The whole situation of affairs was at once perceived 
 by Mrs. Lavender's attendant, who was given to understand 
 that no one was to know of young Mrs. Lavender's being in 
 the house. Then the old woman, much contented with what 
 she had done, resolved that she would reward herself with a 
 joke, and sent for Edward Ingram. 
 
 When Sheila, as already described, came into the room, 
 and found her old friend there, the resolution she had formed 
 went clean out of her mind. She forgot entirely the ban that 
 had been placed on Ingram by her husband. But after her 
 first emotion on seeing him was over, and when he began to 
 discuss what she ought to do, and even to advise her in a dif- 
 fident sort of way, she remembered all that she had forgotten, 
 and was ashamed to find herself sitting there and talking to 
 him as if it were in her father's house at Borva. Indeed, 
 when he proposed to take the management of her affairs into 
 his own hands, and to go and look at certain apartments that 
 Paterson had proposed, she was forced, with great heart-burn- 
 ing and pain, to hint to him that she could not avail herself 
 of his kindness. 
 
 " But why ?'' he asked, with a stare of surprise. 
 
 "You remember Brighton," she answered, looking down 
 "You had a bad return for your kindness to me then." 
 , " Oh, I know," he said carelessly. " And I suppose Mr. 
 Lavender wished you to cut me after my impertinent inter- 
 ference. But things are very much changed now. But for 
 the time he went North, he has been with me nearly every 
 hour since you left." 
 
 " Has Frank been to the Lewis?" she said suddenly, with 
 a look of fear on her face. 
 
 " Oh, no ; he had only been to Glasgow to see if you had 
 gone to catch the Clansman and go North from there," 
 
A PRINCESS Of THULE. 347 
 
 " Did he take trouble to do all that ?" she asked, slowly 
 and wistfully. 
 
 "Trouble!" cried Ingram. "He appears to me neither 
 to eat nor sleep day or night, but to go wandering about in 
 search of you in every place where he fancies you may be. 
 I never saw a man so beside himself with anxiety." 
 
 " I did not wish to make him anxious," said Sheila in a 
 low voice, "Will you tell h : m that I am well?" 
 
 Mrs. Lavender began to smile. Were there not evident 
 signs of softening ? But Ingram, who knew the girl better, 
 was not deceived by these appearances. He could see that 
 Sheila merely wished that hr husband should not suffer 
 pain on her account; that was all. 
 
 " I was about to ask you," he said gently, "what I may say 
 to him. He comes to me continually, for he has always 
 fancied that you would communicate with me. What shall 
 I say to him, Sheila?" 
 
 "You may tell him that I am well," she answered. 
 
 Mairi had by this time stepped out of the room. Sheila 
 sat with her eyes fixed on the floor, her fingers working 
 nervously with a paper knife she held. 
 
 " Nothing more than that ?" he said. 
 
 " Nothing more." 
 
 He saw by her face, and he could tell by the sound of her 
 voice, that her decision was resolute. 
 
 u Don't be a fool, child !" said Mrs. Lavender emphati- 
 cally. " Here is your husband's friend, who can make 
 everything straight and comfortable for you in an hour or 
 two, and you quietly put aside the chance of reconciliation 
 and bring on yourself any amount of misery. I don't speak 
 for Frank. Men can take care of themselves; they have 
 clubs and friends, and amusements for the whole day long. 
 But you! what a pleasant life you would have, shut up in a 
 couple of rooms, scarcely daring to show yourself at a win- 
 dow ! Your fine sentiments are all very well, but they won't 
 stand in the place of a husband to you; and you will soon 
 find out the difference between living by yourself like that, 
 and having some one in the house to look after you. Am I 
 right, Mr. Ingram, or am I wrong ?" 
 
 Ingram paused for a moment, and said, "I have not the 
 same courage that you have, Mrs. Lavender, I dare not ad- 
 vise Sheila one way or the other at presenf But if she feels 
 
348 A PRINCESS OF THULfc. 
 
 in her own heart that she would rather return now to her 
 husband, I can safely say that she would find him deeply 
 grateful to her, and that he would try to do everything that 
 she desired. That I know. He wants to see you, Sheila, if 
 only for five minutess, to beg your forgiveness. 
 
 " I cannot see him," she said, with the same sad and set- 
 tled air. 
 
 " I am not to tell him where you are?" 
 
 " Oh no !" she cried, with a sudden and startled emphasis. 
 " You must not do that, Mr. Ingram. Promise me that you 
 will not do that?" 
 
 " I do promise you ; but y<ftt put a painful duty on me, 
 Sheila, for you know how he will believe that a short inter- 
 view with you would put everything right ; and he will look 
 on me as preventing that." 
 
 " Do you think a short interview at present would put 
 everything right ?" she said, suddenly looking up, and regard- 
 ing him with her clear, steadfast eyes. 
 
 He dared not answer. He felt, in his inmost heart, that 
 it would not. 
 
 "Ah, well," said Mrs. Lavender, "young people have much 
 satisfaction in being proud. When they come to my age, 
 they may find they would have been happier if they had been 
 less disdainful." 
 
 "It is not disdain, Mrs. Lavender," said Sheila, gently. 
 
 " Whatever it is," said the old woman, " I must rem-ind 
 you two people that I am an invalid. Go away and have 
 luncheon. Paterson will look after you. Mr. Ingram, give 
 me that book, that 1 may read myself into a nap, and don't 
 forget what I expect of you.'' 
 
 Ingram suddenly remembered. He and Sheila and Mairi 
 sat v!;own to luncheon in the dining-room, and while he strove 
 to get them to talk about Borva, he was thinking all the time 
 of the extraordinary position he was expected to assume to- 
 ward Sheila. Not only was he to be the repository of the 
 secret of her place of residence, and the message-carrier be- 
 tween herself and her husband, but he was also to take Mrs. 
 Lavender's fortune, in the event of her dying, and hold it in 
 trust foi the young wife Surely this old woman, with her 
 suspicious ways and her worldly wisdom, would not be so 
 foolish as to hand him over all her property, free of con- 
 ditions, on the simple understanding that when he chose he 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 349 
 
 could give what he chose to Sheila ? And yet that was 
 what she had vowed she would do, to Ingram 's profound dis- 
 may. 
 
 He labored hard to lighten the spirits of those two girls. 
 He talked of John the Piper, and said he would invite him 
 up to London, and described his probable appearance in the 
 Park. He told them stories of his adventures while he was 
 camping out with some young artists in the Western High- 
 lands, and told them anecdotes, old, recent and of his own 
 invention, about the people he had met. Had they heard of 
 the steward on board one of the Clyde steamers who had a 
 percentage on the drink consumed in the cabin, and who 
 would call out to the captain: " Why wass you going so 
 fast ? Dinna put her into the quay so fast! There is a gran' 
 company down below, and they are drinking fine!" Had he 
 ever told them of the porter at Arran who had demanded 
 sixpence for carrying up some luggage, but who, after being 
 sent to get a sovereign changed, came back with only eight- 
 een shillings, saying: " Oh, yes, it iss sexpence! Oh, ay, it 
 iss sexpence! But it iss two shullens ta you!" Or of the 
 other, who, after being paid, hung about the cottage-door 
 for nearly an hour, until Ingram, coming out, asked him 
 why he waited; whereupon he said, with an air of perfect 
 indifference: " Oo, ay, there was something said about a 
 dram; but hoot toot! it is of no consequence whatever!" 
 And was it true that the sheriff of Stornoway was so kind- 
 hearted a man that he remitted the punishment of certain 
 culprits, ordained by the statute to be whipped with birch 
 rods, on the ground that the island of Lewis produced no 
 birch, and that he was not bound to import it? And had 
 Mairi heard any more of the Black Horse of Loch Suaina- 
 bhal? And where had she pulled those splendid bunches of 
 bell-heather? 
 
 He suddenly stopped, and Sheila looked up with inquiring 
 eyes. How did he know that Mairi had brought those things 
 with her? Sheila saw that he must have gone up with her 
 husband and must have seen the room which she had deco- 
 rated in imitation of the small parlor at Borvapost. She 
 would rather not think of that room now. 
 
 " When are you going to the Lewis ?" she asked of him 
 with her eyes cast down. 
 
 " Well, I think I have changed my mind about that, 
 
350 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Sheila. I don't think I shall go to the Lewis this Autumn.* 5 
 
 Her face became more and more embarrassed. How was 
 she to thank him for his continued thoughtfulness and self- 
 sacrifice ? 
 
 "There is no necessity," he said lightly. " The man I am 
 going with has no particular purpose in view. We shall 
 merely go cruising about those wonderful lochs and islands, 
 and I am sure to run against some of those young fellows I 
 know, who are prowling about the fishing-villages with porta- 
 ble easels. They are good boys, those boys. They are very 
 hospitable, if they have only a single bedroom in a small 
 cottage as their studio and reception-room combined. I 
 should not wonder, Sheila, if I went ashore somewhere, and 
 put up my lot with those young fellows, and listened to their 
 wicked stories, and lived on whisky and herrings for a 
 montn. Would you like to see me return to Whitehall in 
 kilts? And I should go into the office and salute everybody 
 wit?" * <4nd are you ferry well?' just as Mairi does. But don't 
 be downhearted, Mairi. You speak English a good deal bet- 
 ter than many English folks I know; and by the time you go 
 back to the Lewis we shall have you fit to become a school- 
 mistress, not only in Borva, but in Stornaway itself." 
 
 " I was told it is ferry good English they have in Storno- 
 way," said Mairi, not very sure whether Mr. Ingram was jok- 
 ing or not. 
 
 "My dear child," he cried, " I tell you it is the best Eng- 
 lish in the world. If the queen only knew, she would send 
 her grandchildren to be educated there. But I must go now. 
 Good-bye, Mairi. I mean to come and take you to a theater 
 some night soon. 1 ' 
 
 Sheila accompanied him out into the hall. "When shall 
 you see him," she said, with her eyes cast down. 
 
 " This evening," he answered. 
 
 " I should like you to tell him that I am well, and that he 
 need not be anxious about me." 
 
 "And that is all?" 
 
 "Yes, that is all." 
 
 " Very well, Sheila. I wish you had given me a pleasanter 
 message to carry, but when you think of doing that I shall be 
 glad to take it." 
 
 Ingram left and hastened in to his office. Sheila's affairs 
 were considerably interfering with his attendance there 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 35k 
 
 there could be no question of that but he had the reputa- 
 tion of being able to get through his work thoroughly, what- 
 ever might be the hours he devoted to it, so that he did not 
 greatly fear being rebuked for his present irregularities. 
 Perhaps if a grave official warning had been probable, even 
 that would not have interfered with his determination to do 
 what could be done for Sheila. 
 
 But this business of carrying a message to Lavender was 
 the most serious he had yet undertaken. He had to make 
 sundry and solemn resolves to put a bold face on the matter 
 at the outset, and declare that wild horses would not tear 
 from him any further information. He feared the piteous 
 appeals that might be made to him; the representations that, 
 merely for the sake of an imprudent promise, he was de- 
 laying a reconciliation between these two until that might 
 be impossible; the reasons that would be urged on him for 
 considering Sheila's welfare as paramount to his own scruples. 
 He went through the interview as he foresaw it, a dozen 
 times over, and constructed replies to each argument and 
 entreaty. Of course, it would be simple enough to meet all 
 Lavender's demands with a simple " No," but there are cir- 
 cumstances in which the heroic method of solving difficul- 
 ties becomes a trifle inhuman. 
 
 He had promised to dine with Lavender that evening 
 at his club. When he went along to St. James' Street at 
 the appointed hour his host had not arrived. He walked 
 for about ten minutes, and then Lavender appeared, haggard 
 and worn out with fatigue. "I have heard nothing I can 
 hear nothing I have been everywhere," he said, leading 
 the way at once into the dining-room. " I am sorry I have 
 kept you waiting, Ingram," 
 
 They sat down at a small side table: there were few me 
 in the club at this late season, so that they could talk freely 
 enough when the waiter had come and gone. 
 
 "Well, I have some news for you, Lavender," Ingram 
 said, 
 
 " Do you know where she is ?" said the other eagerly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Where ?" he almost called aloud in his anxiety. 
 
 " Well," Ingram said slowly, " she is in London, and she 
 b very well; and you need have no anxiety about her." 
 
 " But where is she ?" demanded Lavender, taking no 
 
3^2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 heed of the waiter, who was standing by and uncorking a 
 bottle. 
 
 " I promised her not to tell you." 
 
 " You have spoken with her, then?' r 
 
 Yes." 
 
 "What did she say? Where has she been? Good 
 Heavens, Ingram ! you don't mean to say you are going to 
 /keep it a secret ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," said the other; " I will tell you everything she 
 said to me, if you like. Only I will not tell you where she 
 is." 
 
 " I will not ask you," said Lavender at once, " if she does 
 not wish me to know. But you can tell me about herself ? 
 What was she looking like ? Is Mairi with her ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mairi is with her. And, of course^ she is looking a 
 little troubled and pale, anc/ so forth, but she is very well, I 
 should think, and quite comfortably situated. She said I was 
 to tell you that she was well, and that you need not be 
 anxious." 
 
 " She sent a message to me ?" 
 
 " That is it." 
 
 " By Jove, Ingram! how can I ever thank you enough? I 
 feel as glad just now as if she had really come home again. 
 And how did you manage it ?'* 
 
 Lavender, in his excitement and gratitude, kept filling up 
 his friend's glass the moment the least quantity had been 
 taken out of it ; the wonder was he did not fill all the glasses 
 on that side of the table, and beseech Ingram to have two or 
 three dinners all at once. 
 
 " Oh, you needn't give me any credit about it," Ingram 
 said. "I stumbled against her by accident: at least, I did 
 I not find her out myself." 
 
 " Did she send for you ?" 
 
 " No. But look here, Lavender, this sort of cross-examina- 
 tion will lead to but one thing; and you say yourself you 
 won't try to find out where she is." 
 
 "Not from you, any way. But how can I help wanting to 
 know where she is? And my aunt was saying just now that 
 very likely she had gone right away to the other end- of Lon- 
 don to Peckham or some such place." 
 
 " You have seen Mrs. Lavender, then ?" 
 
 " I have just come from there. The old heathen thinkv 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 353 
 
 the whole affair rather a good joke; but perhaps that was 
 only her way of showing her temper, for she was in a bit of 
 rage, to be sure. And so Sheila sent me that message ?" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Does she want money ? Would ypu take her some 
 money from me ?" he said eagerly. Any bond of union be- 
 tween him and Sheila would be of some value. 
 
 "I don't think she needs money; and in any case I know 
 she wouldn't take it from you." 
 
 "Well, now, Ingram, you have seen her and talked with 
 her, what do you think she intends to do ? What do you 
 think she would have me do ?" 
 
 " These are very dangerous questions for me to answer," 
 Ingram said. " I don't see how you can expect me to as- 
 sume the responsibility." 
 
 " I don't ask you to do that at all. But I never found 
 your advice to fail. And if you give me any hint as to what 
 I should do, I will do it upon my own responsibility." 
 
 "Then I won't. But this I will do; I will tell you as 
 nearly as ever I can what she said, and you can judge for 
 yourself." 
 
 Very cautiously, indeed, did Ingram set out on this peril- 
 ous undertaking. It was no easy matter so to shut out all 
 references to Sheila's surroundings that no hint should be 
 given to this anxious listener as to her whereabouts. But 
 Ingram got through it successfully ; and when he had finished 
 Lavender sat some time in silence, merely toying with his 
 knife, for, indeed, he had eaten nothing. " If it is her wish," 
 he said slowly, " that I should not go to see her, I will try to 
 do so. But I should like to know where she is. You say she- 
 is comfortable, and she has Mairi for a companion; and that 
 is something. In the meantime I suppose I must wait." 
 
 " I don't see, myself, how waiting is likely to do much 
 good," said Ingram. " That won't alter your relations 
 much." 
 
 " It may alter her determination. A woman is sure to 
 soften into charity and forgiveness; she can't help it." 
 
 ; If you were to ask Sheila now, she would say she had 
 forgiven you already. But that is a different matter from 
 getting her to resume her former method of life with you. 
 To tell you the truth, I should strongly advise her, if I were 
 to give advice at all, not to attempt anything of the sort. 
 
354 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 One failure is bad enough, and has wrought sufficient 
 trouble." 
 
 " Then what am I to do, Ingram ?" 
 
 " You must judge for yourself what is the most likely way 
 of winning back Sheila's confidence in you, and the most likely 
 conditions under which she might be induced to join you 
 again. You need not expect to get her back into that square, 
 I should fancy ; that experiment has rather broken down." 
 
 " Well," said Lavender, " I shan't bore you any more just 
 now about my affairs. Look after your dinner, old fellow ; 
 your starving yourself won't help me much." 
 
 " I don't mean to starve myself at all," said Ingram, stead- 
 ily making his way through the abundant dishes his friend 
 had ordered. " But I had a very good luncheon this morn- 
 ing with " 
 
 "With Sheila," Lavender said, quickly. 
 
 " Yes. Does it surprise you to find that she is in a place 
 where she can get food ? I wish the poor child had made 
 better use of her opportunities." 
 
 "Ingram," he said, after a minute, " could you take some 
 money from me, without her knowing of it, and try to get 
 her some of the little things she likes some delicacies, you 
 know; they might be smuggled in, as it were, without her 
 knowing who paid for them ? There was ice-pudding, you 
 know, with strawberries in it, that she was fond of 
 
 " My dear fellow, a woman in her position thinks of some- 
 thing else than ice-pudding in strawberries." 
 
 " But why shouldn't she have it all the same? I would 
 give twenty pounds to get some little gratification of that 
 sort conveyed to her; and if you could try, Ingram 
 
 " My dear fellow, she has got everything she can want; 
 there was no ice-pudding at luncheon, but doubtless there 
 will be at dinner." 
 
 So Sheila was staying in a house in which ices could be 
 prepared ? Lavender's suggestion had had no cunning in- 
 tention in it, but here was an obvious piece of information. 
 She was in no humble lodging-house, then. She was either 
 staying with some friends and she had no friend but Laven- 
 der's friends or she was staying at a hotel. He remem- 
 bered that she had once dined at the Langham, Mrs. Kav- 
 anagh having persuaded her to go to meet some American 
 71itors, Might she have gone thither ? 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 355 
 
 Lavender was somewhat silent during the rest of that meai, 
 for he was thinking of other things besides the mere question 
 as to where Sheila might be staying. He was trying to imag- 
 ine what she might have felt before she was driven to this 
 step. He was trying to recall all manner of incidents of 
 their daily life that he now saw might have appeared to her 
 in a very different light from that in which he saw them. He 
 was wondering, too, how all this could be altered, and a new 
 life begun for them both, if that were still possible. 
 
 They had gone up-stairs into the smoking-room when a card 
 was brought to Lavender. 
 
 "Young Mosenberg is below," he said to Ingram. " He 
 will be a livelier companion for you than I could be. Waiter, 
 ask this gentleman to come up." 
 
 The handsome Jew boy came eagerly into the room, with 
 much excitement visible on his face. 
 
 " Oh, do you know,'' he said to Lavender, " I have found 
 out where Mrs. Lavender is yes. She is at your aunt's 
 house. I saw her this afternoon for one moment '' He 
 stopped, for he saw by the vexation on Ingram's face that he 
 had done something wrong. "Is it a mistake?'' he said. 
 "Is it a secret?" 
 
 " It is not likely to be a secret if you have got hold of it," 
 said Ingram, sharply. 
 
 " I am very sorry," said the boy. " I thought you were 
 all anxious to know " 
 
 " It does not matter in the least," said Lavender quietly to 
 both of them. " I shall not seek to disturb her. I am about 
 to leave London." 
 
 "Where are you going?'' said the boy. 
 
 "I don't know yet." 
 
 That, at least, had been part of the result of his medi- 
 tations; and Ingram, looking at him, wondered whether he 
 meant to go away without trying to say one word to Sheila. 
 
 " Look here, Lavender," he said, "you must not fancy 
 we were trying to play any useless and impertinent trick. 
 To-morrow or next day Sheila will leave your aunt's house, 
 ana xhen I should have told you that she had been there, 
 and how the old lady received her. It was Sheila's own 
 wish that the lodgings she is going to should not be known, 
 She fancies that would save both of you a great deal of 
 unnecessary and fruitless pain, do you see? That really 
 
356 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 is her only object in wishing to have any concealment about 
 the matter." 
 
 "But there is no need of any such concealment," he 
 said. " You may tell Sheila that if she likes to stay on 
 with my aunt, so much the better; and I take it very kind 
 of her that she went there, instead of going home or to a 
 strange house." 
 
 " Am I to tell her that you mean to leave London ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 They went into the billiard-room. Mosenberg was not 
 permitted to play, as he had not dined in the club, but 
 Ingram and Lavender proceeded to have a game, the former 
 being content to accept something like thirty in a hundred. 
 It was speedily very clear that Lavender's heart was not in 
 the contest. He kept forgetting which ball he had been play- 
 ing, mi-sing easy shots, playing a perversely wrong game, 
 and so forth. And yet his spirits were not much downcast. 
 
 " Is Peter Hewetson still at Tarbert, do you know? 1 ' he 
 asked of Ingram. 
 
 " I believe so. I heard of him lately. He and one or two 
 more are there." 
 
 "I suppose you'll look in on them if you go North?" 
 
 " Certainly. The place is badly perfumed, but pictur- 
 esque, and there is generally plenty of whisky about." 
 
 " When do you go North?" 
 
 " I don't know. In a week or two." 
 
 That was all Lavender hinted of his plans. He went home 
 early that night, and spent an hour or two in packing up 
 some things, and in writing a long letter to his aunt, which 
 was destined considerably to astonish that lady. Then he 
 lay down and had a few hours' rest. 
 
 In the early morning he went out and walked across Ken- 
 sington Gardens down to the Gore. He wished to have one 
 look at the house in which Sheila was, or perhaps he might, 
 from a distance, see her come out on a simple errand? He 
 knew, for example, that she had a superstitious liking for 
 posting her letters herself; in wet weather or dry, she in- 
 variably carried her own correspondence to the nearest pillar- 
 post. Perhaps he might have one glimpse at her face, to see 
 how she was looking, before he left London. 
 
 There were few people about ; one or two well-known law- 
 yers and merchants were riding by to have their morning 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 357 
 
 canter in the Park; the shops were being opened. Over 
 there was the house with its dark front of bricks, its hard 
 ivy, and its small windows with formal red curtains in 
 which Sheila was immured. That was certainly not the 
 palace that a beautiful sea-princess should have inhabited. 
 Where were the pine woods around it, and the lofty hills, and 
 the wild beating of the waves on the sands below! And now 
 it seemed strange and sad that just as he was about to go 
 away to the North, and breathe the salt air again, and find 
 the strong West winds blowing across the mountain peaks 
 and thiuogh the furze, Sheila, a daughter of the sea and the 
 rocks, shouM be hiding herself in obscure lodgings in the 
 heart of the great city. Perhaps he could not but think at 
 this time if he had only the chance of speaking to her for a 
 couple of moments, he could persuade her to forgive him 
 everything that had happened, and go away with him away 
 from London and all the associations that had vexed her 
 and almost broken her heart to the free, and open, and 
 joyous life on the far sea coasts of the Hebrides. 
 
 Something caused him to turn his head for a second, and 
 he knew that Sheila was coming along the pavement not 
 from, but towards the house. It was too late to think of 
 getting out of her way, and yet he dared not go up to her 
 and speak to her, as he had wished to do. She, too, had 
 seen him. There was a quick, frightened look in her eyes, 
 and then she came along, with her face pale and her head 
 downcast. He did not seek to interrupt her. His eyes, toe, 
 were lowered as she passed him without taking any notice of 
 his presence, although the sad face and the troubled lips told 
 of the pain at her heart. He had hoped, perchance, for one 
 word, for even a sign of recognition, but she went by him 
 calmly, gravely and silently. She went into the house and 
 he turned away with a weight at his heart, as though the 
 gates of heavea bad been closed against him. 
 
PRINCESS OF THUL& 
 
 PART X. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 "LIKE HADRIANUS AND AUGUSTUS." 
 
 The island of Borva lay warm and green and bright undei 
 a blue sky; there were no white curls of foam on Loch 
 Roag, but only the long Atlantic swell coming in to fall on 
 the white beach; away over there in the South the fine grays 
 and purples of the giant Suainabhal shone in the sunlight 
 amid the clear air; and the beautiful sea-pyots flew about the 
 rocks, their screaming being the only sound audible in the 
 stillness. The King of Borva was down by the shore, seated 
 on a stool, and engaged in the idyllic operation of painting 
 a boat which had been hauled up on the sand. It was the 
 Maighdean-mhara. He would let no one else on the island 
 touch Sheila's boat. Duncan, it is true, was permitted to 
 keep her masts and sails and seats sound and white, but as 
 for the decorative painting of the small craft including a 
 little bit of amateur gilding that was the exclusive right of 
 Mr. Mackenzie himself. For, of course, the old man said 
 to himself, Sheila was coming back to Borva one of these 
 days, and she would be proud to find her own boat bright 
 and sound. If she and her husband should resolve to spend 
 half the year in Stornoway, would not the small craft be of 
 use to her there ? and sure he was that a prettier little vessel 
 never entered Stornoway Bay. Mr. Mackenzie was at this 
 moment engaged in putting a thin line of green around the 
 white bulwarks that might have been distinguished across 
 Loch Roag, so keen and pure was the color. 
 
 A much heavier boat, broad-beamed, red-hulled and brown- 
 sailed, was slowly coming around the point at this moment. 
 Mr. Mackenzie raised his eyes from his work, and knew that 
 Duncan was coming back from Callernish. Some few minutes 
 thereafter the boat was run into her moorings, and Duncan 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 359 
 
 came along the beach with a parcel in his hand. " Here wass 
 your letters, sir," he said. " And there iss one of them will 
 be from Miss Sheila, if I wass make no mistake." 
 
 He remained there. Duncan generally knew pretty well 
 when a letter from Sheila was among the documents he had 
 to deliver, and on such an occasion he invariably lingered 
 about to hear the news, which was immediately spread 
 abroad throughout the island. The old King of Borva was 
 not a garrulous man, but he was glad that the people about 
 him should know that his Sheila had become a fine lady in 
 the South, and saw fine things and wenc among fine people. 
 Perhaps this notion of his was a sort of apology to them 
 perhaps it was an apology to himself for his having let her 
 go away from the island; but at all events the simple folks 
 about Borva knew that Miss Sheila, as they still invariably 
 called her, lived in the same town as the queen herself, and 
 saw many lords and ladies, and was present at great festivities, 
 as became Mr. Mackenzie's only daughter. And naturally 
 these rumors and stories were exaggerated by the kindly in- 
 terest and affection of the people into something far beyond 
 what Sheila's father intended; insomuch that many an old 
 crone would proudly and sagaciously wag her head, and say 
 that when Miss Sheila came back to Borva strange things 
 might be seen, and it would be a proud day for Mr. Mac- 
 kenzie if he was to go down to the shore to meet Queen Vic- 
 toria herself, and the princes and princesses, and many fine 
 people, all come to stay at his house and have great rejoicings 
 in Borva. 
 
 Thus it was that Duncan invariably lingered about when 
 he brought a letter from Sheila; and if her father happened 
 to forget or be pre-occupied, Duncan would humbly but 
 firmly remind him. On this occasion Mr. Mackenzie put 
 down his paint-brush and took the bundle of letters and 
 newspapers Duncan had brought him. He selected that 
 from Sheila, and threw the others on the beach beside him. 
 
 There was really no news in the letter. Sheila merely said 
 that she could not as yet answer her father's question as to 
 the time she might probably visit Lewis. She hoped that he 
 was well, and that, if she could not get up to Borva that 
 Autumn, he would come South to London for a time, when 
 the hard weather set in in the North. And so forth. But 
 there was something in the tone of the letter that struck the 
 
360 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 old man as being unusual and strange. It was very formal 
 in its phraseology. He read it twice over very carefully, and 
 forgot altogether that Duncan was waiting. Indeed, he was 
 going to turn away, forgetting his work and the other letters 
 that still lay on the beach, when he observed that there was 
 la postscript on the other side of the last page. It merely 
 'said: "Will you please address your letters now to No. I 
 Pembroke road, South Kensington, where I may be for some 
 time?'' 
 
 That was an imprudent postscript If she had shown the 
 letter to any one she would have been warned of the blunder 
 she was committing. But the child had not much cunning, 
 and wrote and posted the letter in the belief that her. father 
 would simply do as she asked him, and suspect nothing and 
 ask no questions. 
 
 When old Mackenzie read that postscript he could only 
 stare at the paper before him. 
 
 " Will there be any thing wrong, sir?" said the tall keeper, 
 whose keen gray eyes had been fixed on his master's face. 
 
 The sound of Duncan's voice startled and recalled Mr. 
 Mackenzie, who immediately turned, and said lightly, 
 " Wrong ? What wass you thinking would be wrong ? Oh, 
 there is nothing wrong, whatever. But Mairi, she will be 
 greatly surprised, and she is going to write no letters until she 
 comes back to tell you what she has seen ; that is the message 
 there will be for Scarlett she is very well." 
 
 Duncan picked up the other letters and newspapers. 
 
 " You may tek them to the house, Duncan," said Mr. 
 Mackenzie ; and tnen he added carelessly, ' Did you hear 
 when the steamer was thinking of leaving Stornoway this 
 flight?" 
 
 ' ' They were saying it would be seven o'clock or six, as 
 there was a great deal of cargo to get on her." 
 
 " Six o ; clock? I am thinking, Duncan, I would like to 
 go with her as far as Oban or Glasgow. Oh, yes, I will go 
 with her as far as Glasgow. Be sharp, Duncan, and bring in. 
 the boat." 
 
 The keeper stared, fearing his master had gone mad. 
 " You wass going with her this ferry night ?" 
 
 ' Yes. Be sharp, Duncan," said Mackenzie, doing his 
 best to conceal his impatience and determination under a 
 careless air. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 361 
 
 "But, sir, you canna do it," said Duncan, peevishly. 
 " You hef no things looked out to go, And by the time 
 we would get to Callernish, it was a ferry hard drive, there 
 will be to get to Stornoway by six o'clock; and there is the 
 mare, sir, she will hef lost a shoe " ( 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie's diplomacy gave way. He turned upon, 
 his keeper with a sudden fierceness and with a stamp of his 
 
 foot; " you, Duncan MacDonald ! is it you or me that 
 
 is the master? I will go to Stornoway this ferry moment if 
 I hef to buy twenty horses !" And there was a light under 
 the shaggy eyebrows that warned Duncan to have done with 
 his remonstrances. 
 
 " Oh, ferry well, sir ferry well, sir," he said, going off to 
 the boat, and grumbling as he went. "If Miss Sheila was 
 here, it would be no going away to Glesca without any things 
 wis you, as if you wass a poor traffelin tailor that hass nothing 
 in the world but a needle and a thimble mirover. And what 
 will the people in Styornoway hef to say, and sa captain of 
 sa steamboat, and Scarlett ? I will hef no peace from Scar- 
 lett if you was going away like this. Ahd as for sa sweerin, 
 it is no use sa sweerin, for I will get sa boat ready oh, yes, 
 I will get sa boat ready; but I do not understand why I will 
 get sa boat ready.'* 
 
 By this time, indeed, he had got along to the larger boat, 
 and his grumblings were inaudible to the object of them. 
 Mr. Mackenzie went to the small landing-place and waited. 
 When he got into the boat and sat down in the stern, taking 
 the tiller in his right hand, he still held Sheila's letter in the 
 other hand, although he did not need to re-read it. 
 
 They sailed out into the blue waters of the loch and 
 rounded the point of the island in absolute silence. Duncan 
 meanwhile being both sulky and curious* He could not 
 make out why his master should so suddenly leave the island, 
 without informing any one 1 , without even taking with him 
 that tall and roughly-furred black hat which he sometimes 
 wore on important occasions. Yet there was a letter in his 
 hand, and it was a letter from Miss Sheila. Was the news 
 about Mairi, the only news in it? 
 
 Duncan kept looking ahead to see that the boat was steer- 
 ing her right course for the Narrows and was anxious, now 
 that he had started, to make the voyage in the least possible 
 time, but all the same his eyes would come back to Mr. Mac- 
 
362 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 kenzie, who sat very much absorbed, steering almost mechari' 
 cally, seldom booking ahead, but instinctively guessing his 
 course by the outlines of the shore close by. " Was there 
 any bad news, sir, from Miss Sheila?" he was compelled to 
 say, at last. 
 
 " Miss Sheila!" said Mr. Mackenzie, impatiently. " Is it an 
 infant you are that you will call a married woman by such a 
 name?" 
 
 Duncan had never been checked before for a habit which 
 was common to the whole Island of Borva. 
 
 " There iss no bad news," continued Mackenzie, impa- 
 tiently. "Is it a story you would like to tek back to the 
 people of Borvapost ?" 
 
 " It wass no thought of such a thing wass come into my 
 head, sir,'' said Duncan. "There iss no one insa island would 
 like to carry bad news about Miss Sheila; and there iss no 
 one in sa island would like to hear it not any one whatever 
 and I can answer for that." 
 
 " Then hold, your tongue about it. There is no bad news 
 from Sheila,'' said Mackenzie; and Duncan relapsed into 
 silence, not very well content. 
 
 By dint of very hard driving, indeed, Mr. Mackenzie just 
 caught the boat as she was leaving Stornoway harbor, the 
 hurry he was in fortunately saving him from the curiosity and 
 inquiries of the people he knew on the pier. As for the 
 frank and good-natured captain, he did not show that exces- 
 sive interest in Mr. Mackenzie's affairs that Duncan had 
 feared; but when the steamer was well away from, the coast, 
 and bearing down on her route to Skye, he came and had a 
 chat with the King of Borva about the condition of affairs 
 on the West of the island ; and he was good enough to ask, 
 too, about the young lady that had married the English gen- 
 tleman. Mr. Mackenzie said briefly that she was very well, 
 and returned to the subject of the* fishing. 
 
 It was on a wet and dreary morning that Mr. Mackenzie 
 arrived in London; and as he was slowly driven through the 
 \ong and dismal thoroughfares with their gray and melan- 
 choly houses, their passers-by under umbrellas, and their 
 smoke and drizzle and dirt, he could not help saying to him- 
 self: " My poor Sheila!" It was not a pleasant place surely 
 to live in always, although it might be all very well for a visit. 
 Indeed, the cheerless day added to the gloomy forebodings ip 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 363 
 
 his mind, and it needed all his resolve and his pride in his 
 own diplomacy to carry out his plan of approaching Sheila. 
 
 When he got down to Pembroke Road he stopped the cab 
 at the corner and paid the man. Then he walked along the 
 thoroughfare, having a look at the houses. At length he came 
 to the number mentioned in Sheila's letter, and he found 
 that there was a brass plate on the door bearing an unfamiliar 
 name. His suspicions were confirmed. 
 
 He went up the steps and knocked; a small girl an- 
 swered the summons. "Is Mrs. Lavender living here?" he 
 said. 
 
 She looked for a moment with some surprise at the short, 
 thick-set man, with his sailor costume, his peaked cap, and 
 his voluminous gray beard and shaggy eyebrows; and then 
 she said that she would ask, and what was his name ? But 
 Mr. Mackenzie was too sharp not to know what that meant. 
 
 " I am her father. It will do ferry well if you will show 
 me the room." 
 
 And he stepped inside. The small girl obediently shut 
 the door, and then led the way up-stairs. The next minute 
 Mr. Mackenzie had entered the room, and there before him 
 was Sheila, bending over Mairi and teaching her how to do 
 some fancy-work. 
 
 The girl looked up on hearing some one enter, and then, 
 when she suddenly saw her father theYe, she uttered a slight 
 cry of alarm and shrunk back. If he had been less intent 
 on his own plans he would have been amazed and pained by 
 this action on the part of his daughter, who used to run to 
 him, on great occasions and small, whenever she saw him; 
 but the girl had for the last few days been so habitually 
 schooling herself into the notion that she was keeping a se- 
 cret from him she had become so deeply conscious of the 
 concealment intended in that brief letter that she instinct- 
 ively shrank from him when he suddenly appeared. It was 
 but for a moment. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie came forward with a fine assumption of 
 carelessness and shook hands with Sheila and with Mairi 
 and said, ' How do you do, Mairi ! And are you ferry well, 
 Sheila? And you will not expect me this morning; but 
 when a man will not pay you what he wass owing, it wass no 
 good letting it go on in that way ; and 1 hef come to Lon- 
 don " 
 
364 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 He shook the rain-drops from his cap, and was a little 
 embarrassed. 
 
 " Yes, I hef come to London to have the account settled 
 up ; for it wass no good letting him go on for effer and 
 effer. Ay, and how are you, Sheila ?" 
 
 He looked about the room ; he would not look at her. 
 She stood there unable to speak, and with her face grown 
 wild and pale. 
 
 "Ah, it wass raining hard all the last night, and there 
 wass a good deal of water came into the carriage; and it 
 is a ferry hard bed you will make of a third-class carriage. 
 Ay, it wass so. And this a new house you will hef, 
 Sheila?" 
 
 She had been coming nearer to him, with her face 
 down and the speechless lips trembling, And then sud- 
 denly, with a strange sob, she threw herself into his arms 
 and hid her head, and burst into a wild fit of crying. 
 
 " Sheila," he said, " what aLs you ? What iss all the mat- 
 ter?' 5 
 
 Mairi had covertly got out o: the room. 
 
 "Oh, papa, I have left him." the girl cried. 
 
 " Ay," said her father, quite cheerfully " oh, ay, I 
 thought there was some little thing wrong when your letter 
 wass come to us the other day. But it is no use making a 
 great deal of trouble about it, Sheila, for it is easy to have 
 all those things put right again oh, yes, ferry easy. And 
 you have left your own home, Sheila? And where is Mr. 
 Lavender?'' 
 
 " Oh, papa, 5 ' she cried, " you must not try to see him. 
 You must promise not to go to see him. I should have told 
 you everything when I wrote, but I thought you would come 
 up and blame it all on him, and I think it is I who am to 
 blame," 
 
 " But I do not want to blame any on V said her father. 
 "You must not make so much cf these things,, Sheila. It is 
 a pity yes, it is a ferry great pity your husband and you 
 will hef a quarrel ; but it iss no uncommon tiling for these 
 troubles to happen, and I am coming to you this morning, 
 not to make any more trouble, but sec if it cannot be 
 put right again. And I will not bbme anyone; but if I 
 wass to see Sir. Lavender 
 
 A bitter anger had filled his heart from the moment he had 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 365 
 
 /earned how matters stood, and yet he was talking in such a 
 bland, matter-of-fact, almost cheerful fashion that his own 
 daughter was imposed upon, and began to grow comforted. 
 The mere fact that her father now knew all her troubles, and 
 was not disposed to take a very gloomy view of them, was of 
 itself a great relief to her. And she was greatly pleased, 
 too, to hear her father speak in the same light and even, 
 friendly fashion of her husband. She had dreaded the pos- 
 sible results of her writing home and relating what had 
 occurred. She knew the powerful passion of which this 
 lonely old 'nan was capable, and if he had come suddenly 
 down South with a wild desire to revenge the wrongs of his 
 daughter, what might not have happened ? 
 
 Sheila sat down, and with averted eyes told her father the 
 whole story, ingenuously making all possible excuses for her 
 husband, and intimating strongly that the more she looked 
 over the history of the past time the more she was convinced 
 that she was herself to blame. It was but natural that Mr. 
 Lavender should like to live in the manner to which he had 
 been accustomed. She had tried to live that way, too, and 
 the failure to do so was surely her fault. He had been very 
 kind to her. He was always buying her new dresses, jewelry, 
 and what not, and was always pleased to take her to be 
 amused anywhere. All this she said, and a great deal more; 
 and although Mr. Mackenzie did not believe the half of it, 
 he did not say so. 
 
 "Ay, ay, Sheila," he said, cheerfully; "but if everything 
 was right like that, what for will you be here ?'* 
 
 " But everything was not right, papa," the girl said, still 
 with her eyes cast down. " I could not live any longer like 
 that, and I had to come away. That is my fault, and I could 
 not help it. And there was a misunderstanding between us 
 about Main's visit for I had said nothing about it and he 
 was surprised and he had some friends coming to see us 
 that day" 
 
 "Oh, well, there iss no great harm done none at all," 
 said her father, lightly, and, perhaps, beginning to think that 
 after all something was to be said for Lavender's side of the 
 question. " And you will not suppose, Sheila, that I am com- 
 ing to make any trouble by quarreling with any one. There 
 are some men oh, yes, there are ferry manythat would 
 have no judgment at such a time, and they would think only 
 
$66 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 about their daughter, and hef no regard for any one else, 
 and they would only make effery one angrier than before. 
 But you will tell me, Sheila, where Mr. Lavender is." 
 
 "I do not know," she said. "And I am anxious, papa, 
 you should not go to see him. I have asked you to promise 
 that to please me." 
 
 He hesitated. There were not many things he could refuse 
 his daughter, but he was not sure he ought to yield to her in 
 this. For were not these two a couple of foolish young 
 things, who wanted an experienced and cool and shrewd per- 
 son to come with a little dexterous management and arrange 
 their affairs for them ? 
 
 " 1 do not think I have half explained the difference be- 
 tween us," said Sheila, in the same low voice. " It is no 
 passing quarrel, to be mended up and forgotten; it is noth- 
 ing like that. You must leave it alone, papa." 
 
 "That is foolishness, Sheila," said the old man, with a 
 little impatience. " You are making big things out of ferry 
 little, and you will only bring trouble to yourself. How do 
 you know but that he wishes to hef all this misunderstanding 
 removed, and hef you go back to h;m ?" 
 
 " I know that he wishes that," she said, calmly. 
 
 " And you speak as if you wass in great trouble here, and 
 yet you will not go back ?" he said, in great surprise. 
 
 " Yes, that is so," she said. ' There is no use in my 
 going back to the same sort of life 5 it was not happiness for 
 either of us, and to me it was misery-. If I am to blame for 
 it, that is only a misfortune." 
 
 "But if you will not go back to him, Sheila," her father 
 said, " at least you will go back wkh me to Borva." 
 
 "I cannot do that either," said the girl, with the same 
 quiet yet decisive manner. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie rose with an impatient gesture and walked 
 to the window. He did not know what to say. He was 
 very well aware that when Sheila ha t resolved upon any- 
 thing, she had thought it well over beforehand, and was not 
 likely to change her mind. And yet the notion of his 
 daughter living in lodgings in ast'range town her only com- 
 panion a young girl v/ho had never been in the place before 
 was vexatiously absurd. 
 
 "Sheila," he said, "You will come to a better understand- 
 ing about that. I suppose you wass afraid the people woultf 
 
wonder at your coming back alone. But they will know 
 nothing about it. Mairi she is a very good lass; she will do 
 anything you will ask of her; you hef no need to think she 
 will carry stories. And every one wass thinking you will be 
 coming to the Lewis this year, and it is ferry glad they will 
 be to see you ; and if the house at Borvapost hass not enough 
 amusement for you after you hef been in a big town like this, 
 you will live in Stornoway with some of our friends there, 
 and you will come over to Borva when you please." 
 
 "If I went up to the Lewis," said Sheila, "do you think I 
 could live anywhere but in Borva ? It is not any -amuse- 
 ments I v/ill be thinking about. But I cannot go back to 
 the Lewis alone." 
 
 Her father saw how the pride of the girl had driven her to 
 this decision, and saw, too, how useless it was for him to 
 reason with her just at the present moment. Still, there was 
 plenty of occasion heie for the use of a little diplomacy 
 merely to smooth the way for the reconciliation of husband 
 end wife, and Mr. Mackenzie concluded in his own mind 
 that it was far from injudicious to allow Sheila to convince 
 herself that she bore part of the blame of this separation. 
 For example, he now proposed that the discussion of the 
 whole question be postponed for the present, and that Sheila 
 should take him about London and show him all that she 
 had learned; and he suggested that they should then and 
 there get a hansom cab and drive to some exhibition or other. 
 
 " A hansom, papa?" said Sheila. "Mairi must go with us, 
 you know." 
 
 This was precisely what he had angled for, and he said, 
 with a show of impatience, " Mairi ! How can we take about 
 Mairi to every place ? Mairi is a ferry good lass oh, yes 
 but she is a servant-lass." 
 
 The words nearly stuck in his throat; and indeed had any 
 other addressed such a phrase to one of his kith and kin 
 there would have been an explosion of rage; but now he was 
 determined to show iO Sheila that her husband had some 
 cause for objecting to this girl sitting down with his 
 friends. 
 
 But neither husband nor father could make Sheila for- 
 swca" allegiance to what her own heart told her was just and 
 honorable and generous; and indeed her father was not dis- 
 pleased io see her turn abound on himself with just a touch 
 
368 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 Df indignation in her voice. " Mairi is my guest, papa,** she 
 aaid. " It is not like you to think of leaving her at home." 
 
 "Oh, it wass of no consequence," said old Mackenzie, 
 carelessly; indeed he was not sorry to have met with this 
 rebuff. " Main is a ferry good girl oh, yes but there are 
 many who would not forget she is a servant-lass, and would 
 not like to be always taking her with them. And you hef 
 lived a long t'me in London ?" 
 
 *' I have rot lived long enough in London to make me 
 Forget my friends, or insult them," Sheila said, with proud 
 lips, and yet turning to the window to hids her face. 
 
 " My lass, I did not mean any harm whatever," her father 
 fcaid, gently. "I wass saying nothing against Mairi. Go 
 *.way and bring her into the room, Sheila, and we will see 
 what we can do now, and if there is a theater we can go to 
 this evening. And I must go out, too, to buy some things; 
 for you are a ferry fine lady now, Sheila, and I was coming 
 iway in such a hurry." 
 
 " Where is your luggage, papa ?" she said, suddenly. 
 
 "Oh, luggage!" said Mackenzie, looking around in great 
 embarrassment. " It was luggage you said, Sheila? Ay, 
 well, it wass a hurry I wass in when I came away for this 
 man will have to pay me at once whatever and there wass 
 no time for any luggage oh, no, there wass no time, because 
 Duncan he wass late with the boat, and the mare she had a 
 shoe to put on and and oh, no, there was no time for 
 any luggage." 
 
 " But what was Scarlett about to let you come away like 
 that?" said Sheila. 
 
 "Scarlett? Well, Scarlett did not know; it was all in 
 such a hurry. Now go and bring in Mairi, Sheila, and we 
 will speak about the theatre." 
 
 But there was to be no theatre for any of them that even- 
 ing. Sheila was just about to leave the room to summon 
 Mairi, when the small girl who had let Mackenzie into the 
 house appeared and said, " Please, m'm, there is a young 
 woman below who wishes to see you. She has a message to 
 you from Mr?. Paterson." 
 
 "Mrs. Paterson?" Sheila said, wondering how Mrs. 
 Lavender's hench-woman should have been entrusted with 
 any such commission. " Will you please ask her to come up?' 1 
 
 The girl came up-stairs, looking rather frightened and much 
 out of breath. 
 
A PRINCESS OF TttULfi. 369 
 
 " Please, m'm, Mrs. Paterson has sent me to tell you, and 
 would you please come as soon as it is convenient ? Mrs. 
 Lavender has died. It was quite sudden only she recov- 
 ered a little after the fit, and then sank; the doctor is there 
 now, but he wasn't in time, it was all so sudden. Will you 
 please come around, m'm ?" 
 
 " Yes I shall be there directly," said Sheila, too bewil' 
 dered and stunned to think of the possibility of meeting her 
 husband there. 
 
 The girl left, and Sheila still stood in the middle of the 
 room apparently stupefied. That old woman had got into 
 such a habit of talking about her approaching death that 
 Sheila had ceased to believe her, and had grown to fancy 
 that these morbid speculations were indulged in chiefly for 
 the sake of shocking bystanders. But a dead man or a dead 
 woman is suddenly invested with a great solemnity; and 
 Sheila, with a pang of remorse, thought of the fashion in 
 which she had suspected this old woman of a godless hy- 
 pocrisy. She felt, too, that she had unjustly disliked Mrs. 
 Lavender that she had feared to go near her, and blamed 
 her unfairly for many things that had happened. In her own 
 way that old woman in Kensington Gore had been kind to 
 her; perhaps the girl was a little ashamed of herself at this 
 moment that she did not cry. 
 
 Her father went out with her, and up to the house with 
 the dusty ivy and the red curtains. How strangely like was 
 the aspect of the house inside to the very picture that Mrs. 
 Lavender had herself drawn of her death ! Sheila could re- 
 member all the ghastly details that the old woman seemed to 
 have a malicious delight in describing; and here they were 
 the shutters drawn down, the servants walking about on tip- 
 toe, the strange silence in one particular room. The little 
 shriveled old body lay quite still and calm now; and yet as 
 'Sheila went to the bedside, she could hardly believe that 
 within that forehead there was not some consciousness of the 
 scene around. Lying almost in the same position, the old 
 woman, with a sardonic smile on her face, had spoken of the 
 time when she should be speechless, sightless and deaf, while 
 Paterson would go about stealthily as if she was afraid the 
 corpse would hear. Was it possible to believe that the dead 
 body was not conscious at this moment that Paterson was 
 veally going about in that fashion that the blinds were down, 
 
j^O .A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 friends standing some little distance from ihr, bed, a couple 
 of doctors talking to each other in the passage outride ? 
 
 They went into another room, and then Sheila, with a 
 sudden shiver, remembered that soon her husband would be 
 coming, and might meet her and her father there. 
 
 "You have sent for Mr. Lavender?" she said calmly to 
 Mrs. Paterson. 
 
 " No, ma'am," Paterson said with more than her ordinary 
 gravity and formality; " I did not know where to send for 
 him. He left London some days ago. Perhaps you would 
 read the letter, ma'am?" 
 
 She offered Sheila an open letter. The girl saw that it 
 was in her husband's handwriting, but she shrank from it as 
 though she were violating the secrets of the grave. 
 
 " Oh , no," she said, " I cannot do that." 
 
 " Mrs. Lavender, ma'am, meant you to read it, after she 
 had had her will altered. She told me so. It is a very sad 
 thing, ma'am, that she did not live to carry out her inten- 
 tions; for she has been inquiring, ma'am, these last few days, 
 as to how she could leave everything to you 5 ma'am, which 
 she intended ; and now the other will " 
 
 "Oh, don't talk about that!" said Sheila. It seemed to 
 her that the dead body in the other room would be laughing 
 hideously, if only it could, at this fulfillment of all the sar- 
 donic prophecies that Mrs. Lavender used to make. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ma'am," Paterson said, in the same 
 formal way, as if she was a machine set to work in a particu- 
 lar direction. "I only mentioned the will to explain why 
 Mrs. Lavender wished you to read this letter." 
 
 "Read the letter, Sheila," said her father. 
 
 The girl took it and carried it to the window. While she 
 was there, old Mackenzie, who had fewer scruples about 
 ..uch matters, and who had the curiosity natural to a man of 
 the world, said to Mrs. Paterson not loud enough for Sheila 
 to overhear " I suppose, then, the poor old lady has left her 
 property to her nephew?'' 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," said Mrs. Paterson, somewhat sadly, for she 
 fancied she was the bearer of bad news. " She had a will 
 drawn out only a short time ago, and nearly everything is 
 left to Mr. Ingram." 
 
 " To Mr. Ingram ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the woman, amazed to see that Mackenzie's 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 371 
 
 face, so far from evincing displeasure, seemed to be as de- 
 lighted as it was surprised. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Mrs. Paterson, " I was one of the wit- 
 nesses. But Mrs. Lavender changed her mind, and was very 
 anxious that everything should go to your daughter, if ii 
 could be done; and Mr. Appleyard, sir, was to come here to- 
 morrow forenoon." 
 
 " And has Mr. Lavender got no money whatever ?" said 
 Sheila's father, with an air that convinced Mrs. Paterson that 
 he was a revengeful man, and was glad his son-in-law should 
 be so severely punished. 
 
 " I don't know, sir," she replied, careful not to go beyond 
 her own sphere. 
 
 Sheila came back from the window. She had taken a 
 long time to read and ponder over that letter, though it was 
 not a lengthy one. This was what Frank Lavender had 
 written to his aunt: 
 
 " MY DEAR AUNT LAVENDER I suppose when you read 
 this you will think I am in a bad temper because of what you 
 said to me. It is not so. But I am leaving London, and 
 I wish to hand over to you, before I go, the charge of my 
 house, and to ask you take possession of everything in it 
 that does not belong to Sheila. These things are yours, 
 as you know, and I have to thank you very much for the 
 loan of them. I have to thank you for the far too liberal 
 allowance you have made me for many years back. Will 
 you think I have gone mad if ,1 ask you to stop that now? 
 The fact is, I am going to have a try at earning something, 
 for trie fun of the thing; and to make the experiment sat- 
 isfactory, I start to-morrow morning for a district in the 
 West Highlands, where the most ingenious fellow I know 
 couldn't get a penny loaf on credit. You have been very 
 good to me, Aunt Lavender: I wish I had made better use 
 of your kindness. So good-bye just now, and if ever I come 
 back to London again, I shall call on you and thank you in 
 person. 
 
 " I am your affectionate nephew, 
 
 " FRANK LAVENDER," 
 
 So far the letter was almost business-like. There was 
 no reference to the causes which were sending him away 
 from London, and which had already driven him to this ex- 
 
372 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 traordinary resolution about the money he had got from his 
 aunt. But at the end of the letter there was a brief post' 
 script, apparently written at the last moment, the words oi 
 which were these: "Be kind to Sheila. Be as kind to her 
 as I have been cruel to her. In going away from her I feel 
 as though I were exiled by man and forsaken by God." 
 . She came back from the window,the letter in her hand. 
 
 " I think you may read it, too, papa," she said, for she was 
 anxious that her father shouM know that Lavender had vol- 
 untarily surrendered this money before he was deprived of it. 
 Then she went back to the window. 
 
 The slow rain fell from the dismal skies on the pavement, 
 and the railings and the now almost leafless trees. The at- 
 mosphere was filled with a thin, white mist, and the people 
 going by were hidden under umbrellas. It was a dreary pic- 
 ture enough; and yet Sheila was thinking of how much 
 drearier such a day would be on some lonely coast in the 
 North, with the hills obscured behind the rain, and the sea 
 beating hopelessly on the sand. She thought of some- small 
 and damp Highland cottage, with narrow windows, a smell of 
 wet wood about, and the monotonous drip from over the 
 door. And it seemed to her that a stranger there would be 
 very lonely, not knowing the ways or the speech of the sim- 
 ple folk, careless, perhaps, of his own comfort, and only lis- 
 tening to the plashing of the sea and the incessant rain on th 
 bushes and on the pebbles of the beach. Was there any pic- 
 ture of desolation, she thought, like that of a sea under rain, 
 with a slight fog obscuring the' air, and with no wind to stir 
 the pulse with the noise of waves? And if Frank Lavender 
 had only gone as far as the Western Highlands, and was liv- 
 ing in some house on the coast, how sad and still the Atlantic 
 must have been all this wet forenoon, with the islands of Co- 
 lonsay and Oronsay lying remote and gray and misty in the 
 far and desolate plain of the sea! 
 
 " It will take a great deal of responsibility from me, sir,'* 
 Mrs. Patterson said to old Mackenzie, who was absently 
 thinking of all the strange possibilities now opening out be- 
 fore him, " if you will tell me what is to be done. Mrs. 
 Lavender had no relatives in London except her nephew." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Mackenzie, waking up "oh, yes, we will 
 see what is to be done. There will be the boat wanted for 
 the funeral " He recalled himself with an impatient ges- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THUL& 
 
 ture. "Bless me !" he said, "what wasl.saying? You must 
 ask some one else you must ask Mr. Ingram. Hef you not 
 sent for Mr. Ingram?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir, I have sent to him ; and he will most likely 
 come in the afternoon." 
 
 " Then there are the executors mentioned in the will that , 
 wass something you should know about and they will tellj 
 you what to do. As for rne, it is ferry little 1 will know 
 about such things." 
 
 " Perhaps your daughter, sir," suggested Mrs. Paterson, 
 " will tell me what she thinks should be done with the rooms. 
 And as for luncheon, sir, if you would wait " 
 
 "Oh, my daughter?" said Mr. Mackenzie, as if struck by 
 a new idea, but determined, all the same, that Sheila should 
 not have this new responsibility thrust on her "My daugh- 
 ter? well, you was saying, mem, that. my daughter would 
 help you? Oh, yes, but she is a ferry young thing, and 
 you was saying we must hef luncheon ! Oh, yes, but we will 
 not give you so much trouble, and we hef luncheon ordered 
 at the other house whatever, and there is the young girl 
 there that we cannot leave all by herself. And you iief a 
 great experience, mem, and whatever you do, that will be 
 right; do not have any fear of that. And I will come around 
 when you want me oh, yes, I will come around at any 
 time but my daughter, she is a ferry young thing, and she 
 would be of no use to you whatever none whatever. And 
 when Mr. Ingram comes you will send him around to the 
 place where my daughter is, for we will want to see him, if 
 he hass the time to come. Where is Shei where is my 
 daughter ?" 
 
 Sheila had quietly left the room and stolen into the silent 
 chamber in which the dead woman lay. They found her 
 standing close by the bedside, almost in a trance. 
 
 " Sheila," said her father, taking her hand, "come away 
 now, like a good girl. It is no use your waiting here; and 
 Mairi; what will Mairi be doing?" 
 
 She suffered herself to be led away, and they went home 
 and had luncheon ; but the girl could not eat for the notion 
 that somewhere or other a pair of eyes were looking at her, 
 and were hideously laughing at her, as if to remind her of 
 the prophecy of that old woman, that her friends would sit 
 down to a comfortable meal and begin to wonder what sort 
 of mourning they would have. 
 
374 A PRINCESS OP TrtULE. 
 
 it was not until the evening that Ingram called. He had 
 been greatly surprised to hear from Mrs. Paterson that Mr. 
 Mackenzie had been there, along with his daughter; and he 
 now expected to find the old King of Borva in a towering 
 passion. He found him, on the contrary, as bland and as 
 pleased as decency would admit of, in view of the tragedy 
 'that had occurred in the morning; and, indeed, as Mackenzie 
 had never seen Mrs. Lavender, there was less reason why he 
 should wear thj outward semblance of grief. Sheila's father 
 asked her to go out of the room for a little while; and when 
 she and Mairi had gone, he said, cheerfully, "Well, Mr. 
 Ingram, and it is a rich man you are at last." 
 
 " Mrs. Paterson said she had told you," Ingram said, with 
 a shrug. " You never expected to find me rich, did you?" 
 
 " Never," said Mackenzie, frankly. " But it is a ferry good 
 thing oh, yes, it is a ferry good thing to hef money and 
 be independent of people. And you will make a good use 
 of it, I know." 
 
 " You don't seem disposed, sir, to regret that Lavender 
 has been robbed of what should have belonged to him ?" 
 
 "Oh, not at all," said Mackenzie, gravely and cautiously, 
 for he did not want his plans to be displayed prematurely. 
 " But I hef no quarrel with him; so you will not think I am 
 glad to hef the money taken away for that. Oh, no; I hef 
 seen a great many men and women, and it was no strange 
 thing that these two young ones, living all by themselves in 
 London, should hef a quarrel. But it will come all right 
 again if we do not make too much about it. If they like one 
 another they will soon come together again, tek my word for 
 it, Mr. Ingram; and I hef seen a great many men and women. 
 And as for the money well, as for the money, I hef plenty for 
 my Sheila, and she will not starve when I die no, nor before 
 that, eithei ; and as for the poor old woman that has died, I am 
 ferry glad she left her money to one that will make a good use 
 .of it, and will not throw it away whatever.'' 
 I " Oh, but you know, Mr. Mackenzie, you are congratu- 
 lating me without cause. I will tell you how the matter 
 stands. The money does not belong to me at all; Mrs. 
 Lavender never intended it should. It was meant to go to 
 Sheila" 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know," said Mr. Mackenzie with a wave 
 of his hand. "I wass hearing all that from the woman at 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 375 
 
 the house. But how will you know what Mrs. Lavender in- 
 tended ? You hef only that woman's story for it. And here 
 is the will and you hef the money, and and 3 ' Mackenzie 
 hesitated for a moment, and then said with a sudden vehem- 
 ence, " and, by Kott, you shall keep it !" 
 
 Ingram was a trifle startled. "But look here, sir," he 
 said, in a tone of expostulation, " you make a mistake. 
 I myself know Mrs. Lavender's intentions. I don't go by 
 any story of Mrs. Paterson's. Mrs. Lavender made over the 
 money to me with the express injunctions to place it at the 
 disposal of Sheila whenever I should see fit. Oh, there's no 
 mistake about it, so you need not protest, sir. If the money 
 belonged to me, I should be delighted to keep it. No man 
 in the country more desires to be rich than I; so don't fancy 
 I am flinging away a fortune out of generosity. If any rich 
 and kind-hearted old lady will send me five thousand or ten 
 thousand pounds, you will see how I shall stick to it. But 
 the simple truth is, this money is not mine at all. It was 
 never intended to be mine. It belongs to Sheila." 
 
 Ingram talked in a very matter-of-fact way; the old man 
 feared what he said was true. 
 
 " Ay, it is a ferry good story," said Mackenzie, cautiously, 
 " and maybe it is all true. And you wass saying you would 
 like to hef money?" 
 
 " I most decidedly should like to have money." 
 
 " Well, then," said the old man, watching his friend's face, 
 " there is no one to say that the story is true, and who will be- 
 lieve it ? And if Sheila wass to come to you and say she did 
 not believe it, and she would not have the money from you, 
 you would have to keep it, eh ?" 
 
 Ingram's sallow face blushed crimson. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," he said, stiffly. " Do you 
 propose to pervert the girl's mind and make me a party to a 
 fraud ?" 
 
 " Oh, there is no use getting into an anger," said Macken- 
 zie, suavely, "when common sense will do as well whatever. 
 And there wass no perversion and there wass no fraud talked 
 about. It wass just this, Mr. Ingrarn, that if the old lady's 
 will leaves you her property, who will you be getting to be- 
 lieve that she did not mean to give it to you ?" 
 
 " Til tell you now whom she meant to give it to," said In- 
 gram, still somewhat hotly. 
 
37 6 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Oh, yes oh, yes, that iss ferry well. But who will be- 
 lieve it?" 
 
 " Good Heavens, sir! who will believe I could be such a 
 fool as to fling away this property if it belonged to me?" 
 
 " They will think you a fool to do it now yes, that is sure, 
 enough," said Mackenzie. 
 
 " I don't care wha" they think. And it se:ms rather odd, 
 Mr. Mackenzie- that you should be trying to deprive your 
 own daughter of what belongs to her." 
 
 " Oh, my daughter is ferry well off whatever she does not 
 wanC any one's money," said Mackenzie. And then a new 
 notion uruck him; " Will you tell me this, Mr, Ingram ? If 
 Mrs. Lavender left you her property in this way, hat for 
 did she want to change her will, eh ? ' 
 
 Cl Well, to tell you the truth, I refused to take the respon- 
 sibility. She was anxious to have this money given fn Shelia, 
 so that Lavender should not touch it; and I don'f think it 
 was a wise intention, for there is not a prouder m~n in the 
 world than Lavender, and I know that Sheila would not con- 
 sent to hold a penny that did not equally belorg to him. 
 However, that was her notion, and I was the first victim of it. 
 I protested against it and I suppose that set her t~> inquir- 
 ing whether the money could not be absolutely bequeathed 
 to Sheila direct. I don't know anything about it m; r self; but 
 that's how the matter stands, as far as I am concerned." 
 
 "But you will think it over, Mr. Ingram," said Mackenzie, 
 quietly '* you will think it over, and be in no hurry. It is 
 not every man that has a lot of money given to hir*. And 
 it is no wrong to my Sheila at all, for she will ha"'e quite 
 plenty; and she would be ferry sorry to take the mor^yawajr 
 from you, that is sure enough; and you will not b'* hasty, 
 Mr. Ingram, but be cautious and reasonable, and youirill see 
 the money will do you far more good -than it wou'd do 
 Sheila." 
 
 Ingram began to think that he had tied a millstone around 
 his neck. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 IN EXILE. 
 
 ONE evening in the olden time Lavender and Sheili 
 Jngram and old Mackenzie were all sitting high up on 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 377 
 
 rocks near Eorvapost, chatting to each other, and watching 
 the red light pale on the bosom of the Atlantic as the sun 
 sank behind the edge of the world. Ingram was smoking a 
 wooden pipe. Lavender sat with Sheila's hand in his. The 
 old King of Borva was discoursing of the fishing populations 
 around the Western coasts, and their various ways and 
 habits. 
 
 " I wish I c uld have seen Tarbert," Lavender was saying, 
 e ' but the lona just passed the mouth of the little harbor as 
 she comes up Loch Fine. J know two or three men who go 
 there every year to paint th-? fishing-life of the place. It is 
 an odd little place, isn't it ?" 
 
 "Tarbert?' 3 said Mr. Markenzie "you was wanting to 
 know about Tarbert ? Ah, 'Yell., it is a better place now, but 
 a year or two ago it was ferry like hell. Oh, yes, it was, 
 Sheila, so you need not say rnything. And this wass the 
 way of it, Mr. Lavender, thaf the trawling was not made legal 
 then, and the men they were ",ust like devils, with the swear- 
 ing and the drinking and the fighting that went on; and if 
 you went into the harbor in 'he open day, you would find 
 them drunk and fighting, and 1 some of them with blood on 
 their faces, for it wass a ferrr wild time. It wass many a 
 one will tay that the Tarbert-men would run down the police 
 boat some dark night. And what was the use of catching 
 the trawlers now and again, ?.nd taking their boats and their 
 nets to be sold at Greenock, when they went themselves 
 over to Greenock to the auction and brought them back? 
 Oh, it was a great deal of money they made then: I hef heard 
 of a crew of eight'men getting thirty pounds each man in 
 the course of one night, and that not seldom, mirover." 
 
 "But why didn't the government put it down?'' Lavender 
 asked. 
 
 "Well, you see,"^ Mackenzie answered with the air of a 
 man well acquainted with the difficulties of ruling "you 
 see it wass not quite sure that the trawling did much harm to 
 the fishing. And the Jackal that was the government 
 steamer she was not much good in getting the better of the 
 Tarbert-men, who are ferry good with their boats in the row- 
 ing, and are very cunning whatever. You know, the buying 
 boats went out to sea, and took the herring there, ?nd then 
 the trawlers they would sink their nets and come home in th* 
 morning as if they had not caught one fish, although the fop?* 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULF, 
 
 would be white with the scales of the herring. And what is 
 more, sir, the government knew ferry well that if trawling 
 was put down, then there would be a ferry good many 
 murders; for the Tarbert-men, when they came home to 
 drink whisky, and wash the whisky down with porter, they 
 were ready to fight anybody." 
 
 "It must be a delightful place to live in," Lavender said. 
 " Oh, but it is ferry different now," Mackenzie continued 
 " ferry different. The men they are nearly all Good Tem- 
 plars now, and there is no drinking whatever, and there is 
 reading-rooms and such things, and the place is ferry quiet 
 and respectable." 
 
 "I hear,' 1 Ingram remarked, "that good people attribute 
 the change to moral suasion, and that wicked people put it 
 down to want of money." 
 
 " Papa, this boy will have to be put to bed," Sheila said. 
 "Well," Mackenzie ^answered, "there is not so much 
 money in the place as there wass in the old times. The 
 shopkeepers do not make so much money as before, when 
 the men were wild and drunk in the daytime, and had plen- 
 ty to spend when the police-boat did not catch them. But 
 the fishermen, they are ferry much better without the money; 
 and I can say for them, Mr. Lavender, that there isuo better 
 fishermen on the coast. They are very fine, tall men, and 
 they are ferry well dressed in their blue clothes, and they are 
 manly fellows, whether they are drunk or whether they are 
 sober. Now look at this, sir, that in the worst of weather 
 they will neffer tek whisky with them when they go out to 
 the sea at night, for they think it is cowardly. And they are 
 ferry fine fellows, and gentlemanly in their ways, and they are 
 ferry good-natured to strangers." 
 
 "I have heard that of them on all hands," Lavender said, 
 '' and some day I hope to put their civility and good-fellow- 
 ship lo the proof." 
 
 That was merely the idle conversation of a summer even- 
 ing; no one paid any further attention to it, nor did even 
 Lavender himself think again of his vaguely-expressed hope 
 of some day visiting Tarbert. Let us now shift the scene of 
 this narrative to Tarbert itself. 
 
 When you pass from the broad and blue waters of Loch 
 Fyne into the narrow and rocky channel leading into Tar- 
 Vert harbor, you find before you an almost circular bay, 
 
A PRINCESS 0? THULfi. 379 
 
 around which stretches an irregular line of white houses. 
 There is an abundance of fishing-craft in the harbor, lying 
 in careless and picturesque groups, with :heir brown hulls 
 and spars sending a ruddy reflection down on the lapping 
 water, which is green under the shadow of each boat. Along 
 the shores stand the tall poles on which the fishermen dry 
 their nets, and above these, on the summit of a rocky crag, 
 rise the ruins of an old castle, with the daylight shining 
 through the empty windows. 
 
 Beyond the houses, again, lie successive lines of hills, at 
 this moment lit up by shafts of sunlight that lend a gluwinu, 
 warmth and richness to the fine colors of a late Autumn. 
 The hills are red and brown with rusted bracken and heather, 
 and here and there the smooth waters of the bay catch a tinge 
 of other and varied hues. In one of the fishing-smacks that 
 lie almost under the shadow of the tall crag on which the 
 castle ruins stand, an artist has put a rough-and-ready easel, 
 and is apparently busy at work painting a group of boats 
 just beyond. Some indication of the rich colors of the 
 craft their rud;ly sails, brown nets and bladders, and their 
 varnished but not painted hulls already appears on the 
 canvas; and by and by some vision may arise of the far hills 
 in their soft Autumnal tints, and of the bold blue and white 
 sky moving overhead. Perhaps the old man who is smoking 
 in the stern of one of the boats has been placed there on 
 purpose. A boy seated on some nets occasionally casts an 
 anxious glance toward the painter, as if to inquire when his 
 penance will be over. 
 
 A small open boat, with a heap of stones for ballast, and 
 with no great elegance in shape of rigging, comes slowly in 
 from the mouth of the harbor, and is gently run alongside 
 the boat in which the man is painting. A fresh-colored 
 young fellow, with voluminous and curly brown hair, who 
 has dressed himself as a yachtsman, calls out, " Lavender, do 
 you know the White Rose, a big schooner yacht? about 
 eighty tons, I should think." 
 
 "Yes," Lavender said, without turning around or .taking 
 his eyes off the canvas. 
 
 "Whose is she?" 
 
 " Lord Newstead's." 
 
 "Well, either he or his skipper hailed me just now, and 
 wanted to know whether you were here. I said you were. 
 
3#0 A PRINCESS OF THDLfi. 
 
 The fellow asked me if I was going into the harbor. I said 
 I was. So he gave me a message for you that they would 
 hang about outside for half an hour or so, if you would go 
 out with them, and take a run up to Ardishaig." 
 
 " I can't, Johnny.'' 
 
 " I'd take you out, you know." 
 
 " I don't want to go." 
 
 i, "But look here, Lavender," said the young man, seizing 
 fcold of Lavender's boat, and causing the easel to shake dan- 
 gerously; "he asked me to luncheon, too." 
 
 "Why don't you go, then?" was the only reply, uttered 
 rather absently. 
 
 " I can't go without you." 
 
 " Well, I don't mean to go.'-' 
 
 The younger man looked vexed for a moment, and then 
 said, in a tone of expostulation, "You know it is very absurd 
 of you going on like this, Lavender. No fellow can paint 
 decently if he gets out of bed in the middle of the night, and 
 waits for daylight to rush up to his easel. How many hours 
 have you been at work already to-day? If you don't give 
 your eyes a rest, they will get color-blind to a dead certain- 
 ty. Do you think you will paint the whole place off the face 
 of the earth, now that the other fellows have gone ?" 
 
 "I can't be bothered talking with you, Johnny. You'll 
 make me throw something at you. Go away." 
 
 "I think it's rather mean, you know," continued the per- 
 sistent Johnny, " for a fellow like you, who doesn't need it, 
 to come and fill the market all at once, while we unfortunate 
 devils can scarcely get a crust. And there are two heron just 
 around the point, and I have my breech-loader and a dozen 
 cartridges here.'' 
 
 " Go away, Johnny." That was all the answer he got. 
 
 I'll go out and tell Lord Newstead that you are a cantan- 
 kerous brute. I suppose he'll have the decency to offer me 
 luncheon, and I dare say I could get him a shot at these 
 heron. You are a fool not to come, Lavender ;" and so 
 saying, the young man pushed out again, and he was heard 
 to go away talking to himself about obstinate idiots and 
 greed and the certainty of getting a shot at the heron. 
 
 When he had quite gone, Lavender who had scarcely 
 raised his eyes from his work, suddenly put down his palette 
 and brushes he almost dropped them, indeed and quickly 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 381 
 
 put up both his hands to his head, pressing them on the side, 
 of his temples. The old fisherman in the boat beyond no- 
 ticed this, strange movement, and forthwith caught a rope, 
 hauled the boat across a stretch of water, and then came 
 scrambling over bowsprit, lowered sails and nets, to where 
 Lavender had just sat down. 
 
 " Wass there anything the matter, sir?" he said, with much 
 evidence of concern. 
 
 "My head is a little bad, Donald," Lavender said, still 
 pressing his hands to his temples, as if to get rid of some 
 strange feeling. " I wish you would pull in to the shore and 
 get me some whisky." 
 
 " Oh, ay," said the old man, hastily scrambling into the 
 little black boat lying beside the smack; "and it is no won- 
 der to me that this will come to you, sir, for I hef never seen 
 any of the gentlemen so long at the pentin as you from the 
 morning till the night; and it is no wonder to me that this 
 will come to you. But I will get you the whushky ; it is a 
 grand thing, the whushky." 
 
 The old fisherman was not long in getting ashore and run- 
 ning up to the cottage where Lavender lived, and getting a 
 bottb of whisky and a glass. Then he got down to the boat 
 again, and was surprised that he could nowhere see Mr. Lav- 
 ender on board the smack. Perhaps he had lain down on 
 the r>ets in the bottom of the boat. 
 
 When Donald got out to the smack he found the young man 
 Iving insensible, his face white and his teeth clenched. With 
 something of a cry the old fisherman jumped into the boat, 
 knelt down, and proceeded in a rough-and-ready fashion to 
 force some whisky into Lavender's mouth. "Oh, ay, oh, 
 yes, it is a grand thing, the whushky," he muttered to him- 
 self. " Oh, yes, sir^ you must hef some more; it is no matter 
 if you will choke. It is ferry good whushky and will do you 
 no harm whatever; and oh, yes, sir. that is ferry well, and 
 you are all right again } andyou will sit quite quiet now, 
 and you will hef a litttle more whushky." 
 
 The young man looked around him. " Have you been 
 ashore, Donald ? Oh, yes I suppose so. Did 1 tumble? 
 Well, I'm all right, now; it was the glare of the sea that made 
 me giddy. Take a dram for yourself, Donald." 
 
 "There is but the one glass, sir," said Donald, who had 
 picked up something of the notions of gentlefolks, " but I will 
 
382 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 just tek the bottle;" and so, to avoid drinking out of the same 
 glass (which was rather a small one), he was good enough to 
 take a pull, and a strong pull, at the black bottle. Then he 
 heaved a sigh, and wiped the top of the bottle with his 
 sleeve. " Yes, as I was saying, sir, there was none of the 
 gentlemen I hef effer seen in Tarbert will keep at the pentin 
 so long ass you; and many of them will be stronger ass you, 
 and will be more accustomed to it whatever. But when a 
 man is making money " and Donald shook his head: he 
 knew it was useless to argue. 
 
 "But lam not making money, Donald," Lavender paid, 
 still looking a trifle pale. " I doubt whether I have made as 
 much as you have since I came to Tarbert." 
 
 "Oh, yes, "said Donald contentedly, "all the gentlemen 
 will say that. They never nef any money. But wass you ever 
 with them when they could not get a dram because they had 
 no money to pay for it ?" . 
 
 Donald's test of impecuniosity could not be gainsaid. Lav- 
 ender laughed, and bade him get back into the other boat. 
 
 " 'Deed I will not," said Donald, sturdily. 
 
 Lavender stared at him. 
 
 "Oh, no; you wass doing quite enough the day already, 
 or you would not hef tumbled into the boat whatever. And 
 supposing that you was to hef tumbled into the water, you 
 would have been trooned as sure as you wass alive." 
 
 "And a good job, too, Donald," said the younger man 
 idly looking at the lapping green water. 
 
 Donald shook his head gravely: " You would not say that 
 if you had friends of yours that was trooned, and if you had 
 seen them when they went down in the water." 
 
 "They say it is an easy death, Donald." 
 
 "They neffer tried it that said that," said the old fisher- 
 man gloomily. " It wass one day the son of my sister wass 
 coming over from Saltcoats but I hef no wish to speak of 
 it; and that wass but one among ferry many that I have 
 known." 
 
 " How long is it since you were in the Lewis, did you 
 say?" Lavender asked, changing the subject. Donald was 
 accustomed to have the talk suddenly diverted into this 
 channel. He could not tell why the young English gentle- 
 man wanted him continually to be talking about the Lewis. 
 
 "Oh, it is many and many a year ago, as I hef said; and 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 383 
 
 you will know far more about the Lewis than I will. But 
 Stornoway, that is a fine big town; and I hef a cousin there 
 that keeps a shop, and is a very rich man whatever, and 
 many's the time he will ask me to come and see him. And 
 if the Lord be spared, maybe I will some day." 
 "You mean if you be spared, Donald. 
 <f Oh, ay; it is all wan," said Donald. 
 Lavender had brought with him some bread and cheese in 
 a piece of paper for luncheon; and this store of frugal pro- 
 visions having been opened out, the old fisherman was in- 
 vited to join in an invitation he gravely but not eagerly 
 accepted. He took off his blue bonnet and said grace; then 
 he took the bread and cheese in his hand and looked around 
 inquiringly. There was a stone jar of water in the bottom of 
 the boat; that was not what Donald was looking after. Laven- 
 der handed him the black bottle he had brought out from 
 the cottage, which was more to his mind. And then, this 
 humble meal dispatched, the old man was persuaded to go 
 back to his post, and Lavender continued his work. 
 
 The short afternoon was drawing to a close when young 
 Johnny Eyre came sailing in from Loch Fyne, himself and a 
 boy of ten or twelve managing that crank little boat with 
 its top-heavy sails. " Are you at work yet, Lavender ?" he 
 said. " I never saw such a beggar. It's getting quite flark." 
 " What sort of luncheon did Newstead give you, 
 Johnny?" 
 
 "Oh, something worth going for, I can tell you. You 
 want to live in Tarbert for a month or two to find out the 
 value of decent cooking and good wine. He was awfully 
 surprised when I described this place to him. He wouldn't 
 believe you were living here in a cottage: I said a garret, 
 for I pitched it hot and strong, mind you. I said you were 
 'iving in a garret, that you never saw a razor, and lived on 
 oatmeal-porridge and whisky, and that your only amuse- 
 ment was going out at night and risking your neck in this 
 delightful boat of mine. You should have seen him examin- 
 ing this remarkable vessel. And there were two ladies on 
 board, and they were asking after you, too." 
 J< Who were they ?" 
 
 '* 1 don't know. I didn't catch their names when I was 
 introduced ; but the noble skipper called one of them Polly." 
 Oh, I know," 
 
384 A PRINCESS Of THUlfi. 
 
 "Ain't you coming ashore, Lavender? You can't see to 
 work now." 
 
 '' All right! I shall put my traps ashore, and then I'll 
 have a run with you down Loch Fyne if you like, Johnny." 
 
 " Well, I don't like," said the handsome lad, frankly, "for 
 it's looking rather squally about. It seems to me you're bent 
 ! on drowning yourself. Before those other fellows went, they 
 came to the conclusion that you had committed a murder." 
 
 " Did they, really?" Lavender said, with little interest. 
 
 " And if you go away and live in that wild place you were 
 talking of during the Winter, they will be quite sure of it. 
 Why, man, you'd come back with your hair turned white. 
 You might as well think of living by yourself at the Arctic 
 Pole." 
 
 Neither Johnny Eyre nor any of the men who had just left 
 Tarbert knew anything of Frank Lavender's recent history, 
 and Lavender himself was not disposed to be communica- 
 tive. They would know soon enough when they went up to 
 London. In the meantime they were surprised to find that 
 Lavender's habits were very singularly altered. He had 
 grown miserly. They laughed when he told them he had no 
 money, and he did not seek to persuade them of the fact ; 
 but it was clear, at all events, that none of them lived so 
 frugally or worked so anxiously as he. Then, when his work 
 was done in the evening, and when they met alternately at 
 each other's rooms to dine off mutton and potatoes, with a 
 glass of whisky and a pipe and a game of cards to follow, 
 what was the meaning of those sudden fits of silence that 
 would strike in when the general hilarity was at its pitch? 
 And what was the meaning of the utter recklessness he dis- 
 played when they would go out of an evening in their open 
 sailing boats to shoot sea-fowl, or make a voyage along the 
 , rocky coast in the dead of night to wait for the dawn to 
 show them the haunts of the seals ? The Lavender they had 
 met occasionally in London was a fastidious dilettante, self- 
 possessed, and yet not disagreeable fellow; this man was al- 
 most pathetically anxious about his work, oftentimes he was 
 morose and silent, and then again there was no sort of dan- 
 ger or difficulty he was not ready to plunge into when they 
 were sailing about the iron-bound coast. They could not 
 make it out, but the joke among theuiselves was that he had 
 committed a murder, and therefore he was reckless, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 385 
 
 This Johnny Eyre was not much of an artist, but he liked 
 ihe society of artists ; he had a little money of his own, 
 plenty of time, and a love of boating and shooting, and so 
 he had pitched his tent at Tarbert, and was proud to cherish 
 the delusion that he was working hard and earning fame and 
 wealth. As a matter of fact, he never earned anything, but 
 he had very good spirits, and living in Tarbert is cheap. 
 
 From the moment that Lavender had come to the place, 
 Johnny Eyre had made him his special companion. He had 
 a great respect for a man who could shoot anything any- 
 where ; and when he and Lavender came back together 
 from a cruise, there was no use saying which had actually 
 done the brilliant deeds the evidence of which was carried 
 ashore. But Lavender, oddly enough, knew little about 
 sailing, and Johnny was pleased to assume the airs of an in- 
 structor on this point ; his only difficulty being that his 
 pupil had more than the ordinary hardihood of an ignora- 
 mus, and was rather inclined to do reckless things even after 
 he had sufficient skill to know that they were dangerous. 
 
 Lavender got into the small boat, taking his canvas with 
 him, but leaving his easel in the fishing-smack. He pulled 
 himself and Johnny Eyre ashore; they scrambled up the 
 rocks and into the road, and then they went into the small 
 white cottage in which Lavender lived. The picture was, 
 for greater safety, left in Lavender's bed-room, which already 
 contained about a dozen canvases with sketches in various 
 stages on them. Then he went out to his friend again. 
 
 " I've had a long day to-day, Johnny. I wish you'd go 
 out with me; the excitement of a squall would clear one's 
 brain, I fancy." 
 
 " Oh, I'll go out if you like," Eyre said, " but I shall take 
 very good care to run in before the squall comes, if there's 
 any about. I don't think there will be, after all. I fancied 
 I saw a flash of lightning about half an hour ago down in 
 the South, but nothing has come of it. There are some 
 curlew about, and the guillemots are in thousands. You 
 don't seem to care about shooting guillemots, Lavender ?" 
 
 "Well, you see, potting a bird that is sitting on the 
 water " said Lavender, with a shrug. 
 
 " Oh, it isn't as easy as you might imagine. Of course 
 you could kill them if you liked, but everybody ain't such a 
 swell as you are with a gun; and mind you, it's uncommonly 
 
386 A PRINCESS OF'THULE. 
 
 awkward to catch the right moment for firing, when the bird 
 goes bobbing up and down on the waves, disappearing alto- 
 gether every second second. I think it's very good fun 
 myself. It's very exciting when you don't know the moment 
 the bird will dive, and whether you can afford to go any 
 nearer. And as for shooting them on the water, you have to 
 do that, for when do you get a chance of shooting them 
 flying?" 
 
 " I don't see much necessity for shooting them at any time," 
 said Lavender, as he and Eyro went down to the shore again; 
 " but I am glad to see you get some amusement out of it. 
 Have you got cartridges with you? Is your gun in the 
 boat?" 
 
 " Yes. Come along. We'll have a run out anyhow." 
 
 When they had pulled out again to that cockle-shell craft 
 with its stone ballast and big brown mainsail, the boy was 
 sent ashore and the two companions set out by themselves. 
 By this time, the sun had gone down, and a strange green twi- 
 light was shining over the sea. As they got farther out the 
 dusky shores seemed to have a pale mist hanging, around 
 them, but there were no clouds on the hills, for a clear sky 
 shone overhead, awaiting the coming of the stars. Strange 
 indeed was the silence out here, broken only by the lapping 
 of the water on the sides of the boat and the calling of birds 
 in the distance. Far away the orange ray of a lighthouse be- 
 gan to quiver in the lambent dusk. The pale green light on 
 the waves did not die out, but the shadows grew darker, so 
 that Eyre, with his gun close at hand, could not make out his 
 groups of guillemots, although he heard them calling all 
 around. They had come out too late, indeed, for any such 
 purpose. 
 
 Thither on those beautiful evenings, after his day's work 
 was over, Lavender was accustomed to come, either by him- 
 self or with his present companion. Johnny Eyre did not in- 
 trude on his solitude: he was invariably too eager to get a 
 shot, his chief delight being to get to the bow, to let tl?e boat 
 drift for a while silently through the waves, so that she might 
 come unawares on some flock of sea-birds. Lavender, sitting 
 in the stern with the tiller in his hand, was really alone in 
 this world of water and sky, with all the majesty of the night 
 and the stars around him. 
 
 And on these occasions he used to sit and dream pf the 
 
3*7 
 
 beautiful time long ago in Loch Roag, when nights such as 
 these used to come over the Atlantic, and find Sheila and 
 himself sailing on the peaceful waters, or seated high up on 
 the rocks listening to the murmur of the tide. Here was the 
 same strange silence, the same solemn and pale light in the 
 sky, the same mystery of the moving plain all around them 
 that seemed somehow to be alive, and yet voiceless and sad. 
 Many a time his heart became so full of recollections that he 
 had almost called aloud " Sheila! Sheila!" and waited for 
 the sea and the sky to answer him with the sound of her 
 voice. In these by-gone days he had pleased himself with 
 the fancy that th'e girl was somehow the product of all the 
 beautiful aspects of Nature around her. It was the sea that 
 was in her eyes, it was the fair sunlight that shone in her face, 
 the breath of her life was the breath of the moorland winds. 
 He had written verses about this fancy of his; and he had 
 conveyed them secretly to her, sure that she, at least, would 
 find no defects in them. And many a time, far away from 
 Loch Roag and from Sheila, lines of this conceit would wan- 
 der through his brain, set to the saddest of all music, the 
 music of irreparable loss. What did they say to him, now 
 that he recalled them like some half-forgotten voice out of 
 the strange past ? 
 
 For she and the clouds and the breezes were one, 
 And the hills and the sea had conspired with the sun 
 To charm and bewilder all men with the grace 
 They combined and conferred on her wonderful face. 
 
 The sea lapped around the boat, the green light on the 
 waves grew somehow less intense, in the silence the first of 
 the stars came out, and somehow the time in which he had 
 seen Sheila in these rare and magical colors seemed to be- 
 come more and more remote: 
 
 An angel in passing looked downward and smiled, 
 And carried to heaven the fame of the child ; 
 And then what the waves an- 1 , the sky and the sun 
 And. the tremulous breath of the hills had begun 
 Required but one touch. To finish the whole, 
 God loved her and gave her a beautiful soul. 
 
 And what had he done with this rare treasure intrusted to 
 him ? His companions, jesting among themselves, had said 
 that he had committed a murder; in his own heart there was 
 something at this moment of a murderer's remorse. 
 
 Johnny Eyre uttered a short cry. Lavender looked ahead. 
 
388 A PRINCESS OF THtiLfi. 
 
 and SAW that some black object was disappearing among the 
 waves. 
 
 " What a fright I got!" Eyre said, with a laugh. "I never 
 saw the fellow come near, and he came up just below the 
 bowsprit. He came keeling over as quiet as a mouse. I say, 
 Lavender, I think we might as well cut it now; my eyes are, 
 quite bewildered with the light on the water. I couldn'U 
 make out a kraken if it was coming across our bows." f 
 
 "Don't be in a hurry, Johnny. We'll put her out a bit, 
 and then let her drift back. I want to tell you a story." 
 
 " Oh, all right," he said; and so they put her head around 
 and soon she was lying over before the breeze, and slowly- 
 drawing away from those outlines of the coast which showed 
 them where Tarbert harbor cut into the land. And then 
 once more they let her drift, and young Eyre took a nip of 
 whisky and settled himself so as to hear Lavender's story, 
 whatever it might be. 
 
 " You knew I was married ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Didn't you ever wonder why my wife did not come 
 here ?" 
 
 " Why should I wonder ? Plenty of fellows have to spend 
 half the year apart from their wives; the only thing in your 
 case I couldn't understand was the necessity for your doing 
 it. For you know that's all nonsense about your want of 
 funds." 
 
 " It isn't nonsense, Johnny. But now, if you like, I will 
 tell you why my wife has never ro;ne here." 
 
 Then he told the story, out there under the stars, with no 
 thought of interruption, for there vas a world of moving 
 water around them. It was the first time he had let any one 
 into his confidence, and perhaps the darkness aided his reve- 
 lations; but at any rate he went over all the old time, until it 
 seemed to his companion that he was talking to himself, so 
 aimless and desultory were his pathetic reminiscences. He 
 called her Sheila, though Eyre had never heard her name. 
 He spoke of her father as though Eyre must have known 
 him. And yet this rambling series of confessions and self- 
 reproaches and tender memories did form a certain sort of 
 narrative, so that the young fellow sitting quietly in the boat 
 there got a pretty fair notion of what had happened. 
 
 " You are an unlucky fellow," he said to Lavender. " \ 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 389 
 
 never heard anything like that. But you know you must have 
 exaggerated a good deal about it. I should like to hear her 
 story. I am sure you could not have treated her like that.'* 
 " God knows how I did, but the truth is just as I have told 
 vou; and although I was blind enough at the time, I can 
 read the whole story now in letters of fire. I hope you will 
 never have such a thing constantly before your eyes, 
 Johnny." 
 
 The lad was silent for some time, and then he said, rather 
 timidly, " Do you think, Lavender, she knows how sorry you 
 are?" 
 
 "If she did, what good would that do ?" said the other. 
 "Women are awfully forgiving, you know," Johnny said, 
 in a hesitating fashion. " I I don't think it is quite fair not 
 to give her a chance a chance of of being generous, you 
 know. You know, I think the better a woman is, the more 
 inclined she is to be charitable to other folks who mayn't be 
 quite up to the mark, you know; and you see, it ain't every 
 one who can claim to be always doing the right thing; and 
 the next best thing to that is to be sorry for what you've 
 done and try to do better. It's rather cheeky, you know, 
 my advising you, or trying to make you pluck up your spir- 
 its; but I'll tell you what it is, Lavender, if I knew her well 
 enough, I'd go straight to her to-morrow, and I'd put in a 
 good word for you, and tell her some things she doesn't know ; 
 and you'd see'if she wouldn't write you a letter, or even come 
 and see you." 
 
 " That is all nonsense, Johnny, though its very good of 
 you to think of it. The mischief I have done isn't to be put 
 aside by the mere writing of a letter." 
 
 " But it seems to me," Johnny said, with some warmth, 
 " that you are as unfair to her as to yourself in not giving 
 her a chance. You don't know how willing she may be to 
 overlook everything that is past." 
 
 " If she were, I- am not fit to go near her. I couldn't have 
 the cheek to try, Johnny." 
 
 " But what more can you be than sorry for what is past," 
 said the younger fellow, persistently. "And you don't know 
 how pleased it makes a good woman to give her the chance 
 of forgiving anybody. And if we were all to set up for being 
 archangels, and if there was to be no sort of getting back for 
 us after we had made a slip, where should we be ? And in 
 
39C *. PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 place of going to her and making it all right, you start away 
 for the Sound of Islay; and, by Jove ! won't you find out 
 what spending a winter under these Jura mountains means ! 
 I have tried it and I know." 
 
 A flash of lightning, somewhere down among the Arran 
 hills, interrupted the speaker, and drew the attention of the 
 two young men to the fact that in the East and Southeast the 
 stars were no longer visible, while something of a brisk 
 breeze had sprung up. 
 
 "This breeze will take us back splendidly," Johnny said, 
 getting ready again for the run to Tarbert. 
 
 He had scarcely spoken when Lavender called attention to 
 a fishing-smack that was apparently making for the harbor. 
 With all sails set she was sweeping by them like some black 
 phantom across the dark plain of the sea. They could not 
 make out the figures on board of her, but as she passed some 
 one called out to them. 
 
 " What did he say?" Lavender asked. 
 
 "I don't know," his companion said; "but it was some 
 sort of warning, I suppose. By Jove, Lavender, what is 
 that?" 
 
 Behind them there was a strange hissing noise that the 
 wind brought along to them, but nothing could be seen. 
 
 "Rain, isn't it?" Lavender said. 
 
 "There never was rain like that," his companion said. 
 " That is a squall, and it will be here presently. We must 
 haul down the sails. For God's sake, look sharp, Laven- 
 der !" 
 
 There was certainly no time to lose, for the noise behind 
 them was increasing and deepening into a roar, and the 
 heavens had grown black overhead, so that the spars and 
 ropes of the crank little boat could scarcely be made out. 
 They had just got the sails down when the first gust of the 
 squall struck the boat as with a blow of iron, and sent her 
 staggering forward into the trough of the sea. Then all 
 around them came the fury of the storm, and the cause of 
 the sound they heard was apparent in the foaming water that 
 was torn and scattered abroad by the gale. Up from the 
 black Southeast came the fierce hurricane, sweeping every- 
 thing before it, and hurling this creaking and straining boat 
 about as if it were a cork. '1 hey could see little of the sea 
 around them, but they could hear the awful noise of it, and 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 39! 
 
 they knew they were being swept along on those hurrying 
 waves toward a coast which was invisible in the blackness of 
 the night. 
 
 "Johnny, we'll never make the harbor. I can't see a 
 light," Lavender cried. " Hadn't we better try to keep her 
 up the loch ?'' 
 
 " We must make the harbor," his companion said; "she 
 can't stand this much longer." 
 
 Blinding torrents of rain were now being driven down by 
 the force of the wind, so that all around them nothing was 
 visible but a wild boiling and seething of clouds and waves, 
 Eyre was up at the bow trying to catch some glimpse of the 
 outlines of the coast, or to make out some light that would 
 show them where the entrance to Tarbert harbor lay. If 
 only some lurid shaft of lightning would pierce the gloom ! 
 for they knew that they were being driven headlong on an 
 iron-bound coast ; and, amid all the noise of the wind and 
 the sea, they listened with .a fear that had no words for the 
 first roar of the waves along the rocks. 
 
 Suddenly Lavender heard a shrill scream, almost like the 
 cry a hare gives when it finds the dog's fangs in its neck; 
 and at the same moment, amid all the darkness of the 
 night, a still blacker object seemed to start out of the gloom 
 right ahead of them. The boy had no time to shout any 
 warning beyond that cry of despair, for with a wild crash 
 the boat struck on the rocks, rose and struck again, and 
 was then dashed over by a heavy sea, both of its occupants 
 being thrown into the fierce swirls of foam that were dash- 
 ing in and through the rocky channels. Strangely enough, 
 they were thrown together; and Lavender, clinging to the 
 sea-weed, instinctively laid hold of his companion just as 
 the latter appeared to be slipping into the gulf beneath. 
 
 "Johnny," he cried, "hold on! hold on to me or we 
 shall both go in a minute." 
 
 But the lad had no life left in him, and lay like a log there, 
 while each wave that struck and rolled hissing and gurgling 
 through the channels between the rocks seemed to drag at 
 him and seek to suck him down into the darkness. With one 
 despairing effort, Lavender struggled to get him farther up 
 on the slippery sea-weed, and succeeded. But his success 
 had lost him his own vantage ground, and he knew that he 
 was going down into the whirling praters beneath, close by 
 
39 2 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 the broken boat that was still being dashed about by the 
 waves. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "HAME FAIN WOULD i BE." 
 
 UNEXPECTED circumstances had detained Mrs. Kavanagh 
 and her daugher in London long after everybody else had 
 left, but at length they were ready to start for their projected 
 trip into Switzerland. On the day before their departure 
 Ingram dined with them on his own invitation. He had 
 got into the habit of letting them know when it would suit 
 him to devote an evening to their instruction ; and it was 
 difficult indeed to say which of the two ladies submitted the 
 more readily and meekly to the dictatorial enunciation of 
 his opinions. Mrs. Kavanagh, it is true, sometimes dissented 
 in so far as a smile indicated dissent, but her daughte* 1 
 scarcely reserved to herself so much liberty. Mr. Ingram had 
 taken her in hand, and expected of her the obedience and 
 respect due his superior age. 
 
 And yet, somehow or other, he occasionally found himself 
 indirectly soliciting the advice of this gentle, clear-eyed and 
 clear-headed young person, more especially as regarded the 
 difficulties surrounding Sheila; and sometimes a chance re- 
 mark of hers, uttered in a timid or careless or even mocking 
 fashion, would astonish him by the rapid light it threw on 
 these dark troubles. On this evening the last evening 
 they were spending in London it was his own affairs which 
 he proposed to mention to Mrs. Lorraine, and he had no 
 ' more hesitation in doing so than if she had been his oldest 
 friend. He wanted to ask her what he should do about the 
 money Mrs. Lavender had left him; and he intended to be a 
 grood deal more frank with Mrs. Lorraine than with any of 
 the others to whom he had spoken about the matter. For he 
 was well aware that Mrs. Lavender had at first resolved that 
 he should have at least a considerable portion of her wealth, 
 or why should she have asked him how he would like to be a 
 rich man ? 
 
 " I do not think," said Mrs. Lorraine, quietly, " that there 
 is any use in your asking me what you should do, for I know 
 what you will do, whether it accords with any one's opinion 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 393 
 
 Or no. And yet you would find a great advantage in having 
 money" 
 
 " Oh, I know that," he said readily, " I should like to be 
 rich beyond anything that ever happened in a drama ; and I 
 should take my chance of all the evil, influences that money 
 is supposed to exert. Do you know, 1 think you rich people 
 are very unfairly treated." 
 
 " But we are not rich," said Mrs. Kavanagh, passing at 
 the time. "Cecilia and I find ourselves very poor some- 
 times." 
 
 " But I quite agree with Mr. Ingram, mamma," said Ce- 
 cilia as if any one had had the courage to disagree with Mr. 
 Ingram! " rich people are shamefully ill-treated. If you go 
 to a theatre now you find that all the virtues are on the side 
 of the poor, and if there are a few vices, you get a thousand 
 excuses for them. No one takes account of the temptations 
 of the rich. You have people educated from their infancy to 
 imagine that the whole world was made for them, every wish 
 they have gratified, every day showing them people depend- 
 ent on them and grateful for favors; and no allowance is 
 made for such a temptation to become haughty, self-willed 
 anc! overbearing. But of course it stands to reason that the 
 rich never have justice done them in plays and stories, for the 
 people who write are poor." 
 
 " Not all of them." 
 
 " But enough to strike an average of injustice. And it is 
 very hard. For it is the rich who buy books and who take 
 boxes at the theaters, and then they find themselves grossly 
 abused; whereas the humble peasant, who can scarcely read 
 at all, and who never pays more than sixpence for a seat in 
 the gallery, is flattered and coaxed and caressed until one 
 wonders whether the source of virtue is the drinking of sour 
 ale. Mr. Ingram, you do it yourself. You impress mamma 
 and me with the belief that we are miserable sinners if we are 
 not continually doing some act of charity. Well, that is all 
 very pleasant and necessary, in moderation; but you don't 
 find the poor folks so very anxious to live for other people. 
 They don't care much what becomes of us. They take your 
 port wine and flannels as if they were conferring a favor on 
 you, but as for your condition and prospect in this world and 
 the next, they don't trouble much about that. Now, mamma, 
 just wait a moment." 
 
394 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "I will not. You are a bad girl," said Mrs. Kavanagh,. 
 severely. "Here has Mr. Ingram been teaching you and 
 making you better for ever so long back, and you pretend to 
 accept his counsel and reform yourself; and then all at once 
 you break out and throw down the tablets of the law and 
 conduct yourself like a heathen." 
 
 " Because I want him to explain, mamma. I suppose he 
 considers it wicked for us to start for Switzerland to-morrow. 
 The money we shall expend in traveling might have dispatched 
 a cargo of muskets to some missionary station, so that 
 
 "Cecilia!" 
 
 " Oh, no," Ingram said carelessly, and nursing his knee 
 with both his hands as usual, " traveling is not wicked; it is 
 only unreasonable. A traveler, you know, is a person who 
 has a house in one town, and who goes to live in a house in 
 another town, in order to have the pleasure of paying for 
 both." 
 
 "Mr. Ingram," said Mrs. Kavanagh, "will you talk seri- 
 ously for one minute, and tell me whether we are to expect 
 to see you in the Tyrol ?" 
 
 But Ingram was not in a mood for talking seriously, and 
 he waited to hear Mrs. Lorraine strike in with some calmly 
 audacious invitation. She did not, however, and he turned 
 around from her mother to question her. He was surprised 
 to find that her eyes were fixed on the ground and that some- 
 thing like a tinge of color was in her face. He turned 
 rapidly away again. ''Weil, Mrs, Kavanagh/' he said, with 
 a fine air of indifference, " the last time we spoke about that 
 I was not in the difficulty I am in at present. How could 
 I go traveling just now, without knowing how to regulate my 
 daily expenses? Am I to travel with six' white horses and 
 silver bells, or trudge on foot with a wallet ?" 
 
 " You know quite well," said Mrs. Lorraine, warmly, " you 
 know you will not touch that money that Mrs. Lavender has 
 left you." 
 
 "Oh, pardon me," he said : "I should rejoice to have it 
 if it did not properly belong to some one else. And the 
 difficulty is, that Mr. Mackenzie is obviously very anxious 
 that neither Mr. Lavender nor Sheila should have it. If 
 Sheila gets it, of course she will give it to her husband. 
 Now, if it is not to be given to her, do you think I should 
 regard the money with any particular horror and refuse to 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 395 
 
 touch it? That would be very romantic, perhaps, but I 
 should be sorry, you know, to give my friends the most dis- 
 quieting doubts about my sanity. Romance goes out of a 
 man's head when the hair gets gray." 
 
 " Until a man has gray hair," Mrs. Lorraine said, still with 
 some unnecessary fervor, " he does not know that there are 
 things much more valuable than money. You wouldn't touch 
 that money just now, and all the thinking and reasoning in 
 the world will never get you to touch it." 
 
 " What am I to do with it?" he said, meekly. 
 
 " Give it to Mr. Mackenzie in trust for his daughter," 
 Mrs. Lorraine said promptly; and then, seeing that her 
 mother had gone to the end of the drawing-room to fetch 
 something or other, she added quickly, " I should be more 
 sorry than I can tell you to find you accepting this money. 
 You do not wish to have it. You do not need it. And if 
 you did take it, it would prove a source of continual embar- 
 rassment and regret to you, and no assurances on the part 
 of Mr. Mackenzie would be able to convince you that you 
 had acted rightly by his daughter. Now, if you simply hand 
 over your responsibilities to him, he cannot refuse them, for 
 the sake of his own child, and you are left with the sense of 
 having acted nobly and generously. I hope there are many 
 men who would do what I ask you to do, but I have not met 
 many to whom I could make such an appeal with any hope. 
 But, after all, that is only advice. I have no right to ask 
 you to do anything like that. You asked me for my opin- 
 ion about it. Well, that is it. But I should not have asked 
 you to act on it." 
 
 " But I will," he said, in a low voice; and then he went to 
 the other end of the room, for Mrs. Kavanagh was calling 
 him to help her in finding something she had lost. 
 
 Before he had left that evening Mrs. Lorraine said to him, 
 "We go by the night mail to Paris to-morrow night, and we 
 shall dine here at five. Would you have the courage to come 
 up and join us in that melancholy ceremony?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said; "if I may go down to the station to 
 see you away afterward." 
 
 " I think if we got you so far we should persuade you to 
 go with us," Mrs. Kavanagh said, with a smile. 
 
 He sat silent for minute. Of course she could not seri- 
 ously mean such a thing. But, at all events, she would not 
 
396 ( * PRINCESS OF* THULfi. 
 
 be displeased if he crossed their path while they were 
 actually abroad. 
 
 "It is getting too late in the year to go to Scotland now," 
 he said, with some hesitation. 
 
 "Oh, most certainly," Mrs. Lorraine said. 
 
 " I don't know where the man in whose yacht I was to 
 have gone may be now. I might spend half my holiday in 
 trying to catch him." 
 
 " And during that time you would be alone," Mrs. Lor- 
 raine said. 
 
 " I suppose the Tyrol is a very nice place," he suggested. 
 
 "Oh, most delightful!" she exclaimed. "You know, we 
 should go around by Switzerland, and go up by Luzerne and 
 Zurich to the end of the Lake of Constance. Bregenz, 
 mamma, isn't that the place where we hired that good-na- 
 tured man the year before last ?" 
 
 " Yes, child." 
 
 " Now, you see, Mr. Ingram, if you had less time than we 
 if you could not start with us to-morrow you might come 
 straight down by Schaffhausen and the steamer, and catch us 
 up there, and then mamma would become your guide. I am 
 sure we should have some pleasant days together till you got 
 tired of us, and then you could go off on a walking tour if 
 you pleased. And then, you know, there would be no diffi- 
 culty about our meeting at Bregenz, for mamma and I have 
 plenty of time, and we should wait there for a few days, so 
 as to make sure." 
 
 " Cecilia," said Mrs. Kavanagh, " you must not persuade 
 Mr. Ingram against his will. He may have other duties 
 other friends to see, perhaps." 
 
 " Who proposed it, mamma? '* said the daughter, calmly. 
 
 "I did, as a mere joke. But of course, if Mr. Ingram 
 thinks of going to the Tyrol, we should be most pleased to 
 see him there." 
 
 " Oh, I have no other friends whom I am bound to see," 
 Ingram said,with some hesitation, "and I should like to go 
 to the Tyrol. But the fact is I am afraid " 
 
 " May I interrupt you?'' said Mrs. Lorraine. "You do 
 not like to leave London so long as your friend Sheila is in 
 trouble. Is not that the case ? And yet she has her father 
 to look after her. And it is clear you cannot do much for 
 her when you do not even know where Mr. Lavender is. On 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 397 
 
 Ihe wbole, I think you should consider yourself a little bit 
 now. and not get cheated out of your holidays for the year." 
 
 "Very well," Ingram said, "I shall be able to tell you 
 to-morrow." 
 
 To be so phlegmatic and matter-of-fact a person, Mr. In- 
 gram was sorely disturbed on going home that evening, nor 
 did he sleep much during the night. For the more that he 
 speculated on all the possibilities that might arise from his 
 meeting these people in the Tyrol, the more pertinaciously 
 did this refrain follow these excursive fancies: "If I go to 
 the Tyrol I shall fall in love with that girl, and ask her to 
 marry me. And if I do so, what position should I hold, 
 with regard to her, as a penniless man with a rich wife ?" 
 
 He did not look at the question in such a light as the 
 opinion of the world might throw on it. The difficulty was 
 tnat she herself might afterwards come to think of their 
 mucaal relations. True it was that no one could be more 
 gentle and submissive to him than she appeared to be. In 
 matters of opinion and discussion he already ruled with an 
 autocratic authority which he fully perceived himself, and 
 exercised, too, with some sort of notion that it was good for 
 this clear-headed young woman to have to submit to control. 
 But of what avail would this moral authority be as against the 
 conscious'ness she would have that it was her fortune that was 
 supplying both with the means of living ? 
 
 He went down to his office in the morning with no plans 
 formed. The forenoon passed, and he had decided on 
 nothing. At mid-day he suddenly bethought him that it 
 would be very pleasant if Sheila would go and see Mrs. 
 Lorraine; and forthwith he did that which would have 
 driven Frank Lavender out of his senses he telegraphed to 
 Mrs. Lorraine to bring Sheila and her father to dinner at five. 
 He certainly knew that such a request was a trifle cool, but 
 he had discovered that Mrs. Lorraine was not easily shocked 
 by such audacious experiments on her good nature. When 
 he received th: telegram in reply he knew it granted what 
 he had asked. The words were merely, " Certainly, by all 
 means, but not later than five." 
 
 Then he hastened down to the house in which Sheila lived, 
 and found that she and her father had just returned from 
 visiting some exhibition. Mr. Mackenzie was not in the 
 room. 
 
398 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 'Sheila," Ingram said, "what would you think of my 
 getting married ?" 
 
 Sheila looked up with a bright smile and said: " It would 
 please me very much it would be a great pleasure to me; 
 and I have expected it for some time. 1 ' 
 
 " You have expected it ?" he repeated, with a stare. 
 
 " Yes," she said quietly. 
 
 "Then you fancy you know " he said, or rather stam- 
 mered, in great embarrassment, when she interrupted him 
 by saying, 
 
 " Oh yes, I think I know. When you came down every 
 evening to tell me all the praises of Mrs. Lorraine, and how 
 clever she was, and kind, I expected you would come some 
 day with another message ; and now I am very glad to hear 
 it. You have changed all my opinions about her, and " 
 
 Then she rose and took both his hands, and looked 
 frankly into his face. 
 
 "And I do hope most sincerely you will be happy,, my 
 dear friend." 
 
 Ingram was fairly taken aback at the consequences of his 
 own imprudence. He had never dreamed for a moment that 
 any one would have suspected such a thing; and he had 
 thrown out the suggestion to Sheila almost as a jest, believing, 
 of course, that it compromised no one. And here, before 
 he had spoken a word to Mrs. Lorraine on the subject, he 
 was being congratulated on his approaching marriage. 
 
 " Oh, Sheila," he said, " this is all a mistake. It was a 
 joke of mine. If I had known you would think of Mrs. 
 Lorraine, I would not have said a word about it." 
 
 " But it is Mrs. Lorraine?" Sheila said. 
 
 "Well, but I have never mentioned such a thing to her 
 never hinted it in the remotest manner. I dare say if I had 
 she might laugh the matter aside as too absurd." 
 
 " She will not do that," Sheila said. "If you ask her to 
 marry you, she will marry you; I am sure of that from what 
 I have heard, and she would be very foolish if she was not 
 proud and glad to do that. And you what doubt can you 
 have, after all that you have been saying of late?" 
 
 "But you don't marry a woman merely because you ad- 
 mire her cleverness and kindness," he said; and then he 
 added suddenly: "Sheila, would you do me a great favor? 
 Mrs. Lorraine and her mother are leaving for the Continent 
 
309 
 
 to-night. They dine at five, and I am commissioned to ask 
 you and your papa if you would go up with me and have 
 some dinner with them, you know, before they start. Won't 
 you do that, Sheila?" 
 
 The girl shook her head, without answering. She had not 
 gone to any friend's house since her husband had left Lon- 
 don, and that house, above all others, was calculated to 
 awaken in her bitter recollections. 
 
 "Won't you, Sheila?" he said. "You used to go there. 
 I know they like you very much. I have seen you very well 
 pleased and comfortable there, and I thought you were en- 
 joying yourself." 
 
 "Yes, that is true/' said Sheila; and then she looked up 
 with a strange sort of smile on her lips. " But ' what made 
 the assembly shine ?' '' 
 
 That forced smile did not last long; the girl suddenly burst 
 into tears, and rose and went away to the window. Macken- 
 zie came into the room: he did not see his daughter was 
 crying. " Well, Mr. Ingram, and are you coming with us to 
 the Lewis ? We cannot be staying in London, for there will 
 be many things wanting the looking after in Borva, as you 
 will know ferry well. And yet Sheila she will not go back; 
 and Mairi, too, she will be forgetting the ferry sight of her 
 own people; but if you wass coming with us, Mr. Ingram, 
 Sheila she would come too, and it would be ferry good for 
 her whatever." 
 
 " I have brought you another proposal. Will you take 
 Sheila to see the Tyrol, and I will go with you?" 
 
 "The Tyrol?" said Mr. Mackenzie. "Ay, it is a ferry 
 long way away, but if Sheila will care to go to the Tyrol 
 oh, yes, I will go to the Tyrol or anywhere if she will go out 
 of London, for it is not good for a young girl to be always in 
 the one house, and no company and no variety; and I was 
 saying to Sheila what good will she do sitting by the window 
 and thinking over things, and crying sometimes By Kott, 
 it is a foolish thing for a young girl, and I will hef no more 
 of it !" 
 
 In other circumstances Ingram would have laughed at this 
 dreadful threat. Despite the frown on the old man's face, 
 the sudden stamp of his foot, and the vehemence of his 
 words, Ingram knew that if Sheila had turned around and 
 said that she wished to be shut up in a dark room for the rest 
 
400 A PRINCESS Of THULE. 
 
 of her life, the old King of Borva would have said: " Ferry 
 well, Sheila," in the meekest way, and would have been sat- 
 isfied if only he could share her imprisonment with her. 
 
 " But first of all, Mr. Mackenzie, I have another proposal 
 to make to you," Ingram said, and then he urged upon 
 Sheila's father to accept Mrs. Lorraine's invitation. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie was nothing loth. Sheila was living by 
 far too monotonous a life. He went over to the window to 
 her and said, " Sheila, my lass, you was going nowhere else 
 this evening; and it would be ferry convenient to go with Mr. 
 Ingram, and he would see his friends away, and we could go 
 to a theatre then. And it is no new thing for you to go to 
 fine houses and see other people; but it is new to me, and 
 you wass saying what a beautiful house it wass many a time, 
 and I hef wished to see it. And the people are ferry kind, 
 Sheila, to send me un invitation; and if they wass to come 
 to the Lewis, what would you think if you asked them to 
 come to your house and they paid no heed to it ? Now, it 
 is after four, Sheila, and if you wass to get ready now '' 
 
 " Yes, I will go and get ready, papa," she said. 
 
 Ingram had a vague consciousness that he was taking 
 Sheila up to introduce to her Mr*-. Lorraine in a new char- 
 acter. Would Sheila look at the woman she used to fear and 
 dislike in a wholly different fashion, and be prepared to adorn 
 her with all the graces which he had so often described to 
 her? Ingram hoped that Sheila would get to like Mrs. 
 Lorraine, and that by-and-by a better acquaintance between 
 them might lead to a warm and friendly intimacy. Some- 
 how, he felt that if Sheila would betray such a liking if she! 
 would come to him and say honestly that she was rejoiced, 
 he meant to marry all his doubts would be cleared away. 
 S eila had already said pretty nearly as much as that, but 
 iiien it followed what she understood to be an announcement 
 of h s approaching marriage, and, of course, the girl's kindly 
 nature at once suggested a few pretty speeches. Sheila now 
 knew that nothing was settled ; after looking at Mrs. Lor- 
 raine in the light of these new possib : lities, would she come 
 to him and counsel him to go on and challenge a decision ? 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie received with a grave dignity and polite- 
 ness the more than friendly welcome given him by both Mrs. 
 Kavanagh and her daughter, and in view of their approach 
 ing tour he gave them to understand that he had himself estab 
 
A PRINCESS OF IHUtfi. 401 
 
 lished somewhat familiar relations with foreign countries by 
 reason of his meeting with the ships and sailors hailing from 
 those distant shores. He displayed a profound knowledge 
 of the habits and customs and of the natural products of 
 many remote lands, which were much farther afield than a 
 little bit of inland Germany. He represented the island of 
 Borva, indeed, as a sort of lighthouse from which you could 
 survey pretty nearly all the countries of the world, and 
 broadly hinted that, so far as insular prejudice being the 
 fruit of living in such a place, a general intercourse with 
 diverse peoples tended to widen the understanding and throw 
 light on the various social experiments that had been made 
 by the lawgivers, the philanthropists, the philosophers of the 
 world. 
 
 It seemed to Sheila, as she sat and listened, that the pale, 
 calm and clear-eyed young lady opposite her was not quite 
 so self-possessed as usual. She seemed shy and a little self- 
 conscious. Did she suspect that she was being observed, 
 Sheila wondered ? and the reason ? When dinner was an- 
 nounced she took Sheila's arm, and allowed Mr. Ingram to 
 follow them, protesting, into the other room, but there was 
 much more of embarrassment and timidity than of an auda- 
 cious mischief in her look. She was very kind indeed to 
 Sheila, but she had wholly abandoned that air of maternal 
 patronage which she used to assume toward the girl. She 
 seemed to wish to be more friendly and confidential with her, 
 and indeed scarcely spoke a word to Ingram during dinner, 
 so persistently did she talk to Sheila, who sat next her. 
 
 Ingram got vexed. " Mrs. Lorraine," he said, " you seem 
 to forget that this is a solemn occasion. You ask us to a 
 farewell banquet, but instead of observing the proper cere- 
 monies, you pass the time in talking about fancy work and 
 music, and other ordinary, everyday trifles." 
 
 " What are the ceremonies?" she said. 
 
 "Well," he answered, "you need not occupy the time 
 with crochet " 
 
 " Mrs. Lavender and I are very well pleased to talk about 
 trifles." 
 
 " But I am not," he said bluntly, " and I am not going to 
 be shut out by a conspiracy. Come, let us talk about your 
 journey." 
 
 " Will my lord give his commands as to the point at which 
 we shall start the conversation !" 
 
402 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 "You may skip the Channel." 
 
 " I wish I could," she remarked, with a sigh. 
 
 " We shall land you in Paris. How are we to know thaJ 
 you have arrived safely?" 
 
 She looked embarrassed for a moment, and then said: 
 "If it is of any consequence for you to know, I shall be 
 writing in any case to Mrs. Lavender about some little private 
 matter." x 
 
 Ingram did not receive this promise with any great show 
 of delight. " You see," he said, somewhat glumly, " if I am 
 to meet you anywhere, I should like to know the various stages 
 of your route, so that I could guard against our missing each 
 other." 
 
 " You have decided to go, then ?" 
 
 Ingram, not looking at her, but looking at Sheila, said: 
 "Yes;" and Sheila, despite all her efforts, could not help 
 glancing up with a brief smile and blush of pleasure that 
 were quite visible to everybody. 
 
 Mrs. Lorraine struck in with a sort of nervous haste: " Oh, 
 that will be very pleasant for mamma, for she gets rather 
 tired of me at times when we are traveling. Two women 
 who always read the same sort of books and have the same 
 opinions about the people they meet, and have precisely the 
 same tastes in everything, are not very amusing companions 
 for each other. You want a little discussion thrown in." 
 
 " And if we meet Mr. Ingram we are sure to have that," 
 Mrs. Kavanagh said, benignly. 
 
 " And you want somebody to give you new opinions and 
 put things differently, you know. I am sure mamma will be 
 most kind to you if you can make it convenient to spend a 
 few days with us, Mr. Ingram." 
 
 " Oh, that will be delightful !" Mrs. Lorraine cried, sud- 
 denly taking Sheila's hand. " You will come, won't you ? 
 We should have such a pleasant party. I am sure your papa 
 will be most interested: and we are not tied to any route: 
 we should go wherever you pleased." 
 
 She would have gone on beseeching and advising, but she 
 saw something in Sheila's face which told her that all her 
 efforts would be unavailing. 
 
 " It is very kind of you," Sheila said, "but I do not think 
 I can go to the Tyrol." 
 
 " Then you shall go back to the Lewis, Sheila," hei 
 father said- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 403 
 
 "I cannot go back to the Lewis, papa," she said simply; 
 and at this point Ingram, perceiving how painful the dis- 
 cussion was for the girl, suddenly called attention to the 
 hour, and asked Mrs. Kavanagh if all her portmanteaus 
 were strapped up. 
 
 They drove in a body down to the station, and Mr. 
 Ingram was most assiduous in supplying the two travelers 
 with an abundance of everything they could not possibly 
 want. He got them a reading-lamp, though both of them 
 declared they never read in a train. He got them some eau- 
 de-cologne, though they had plenty in their traveling-case. 
 He purchased for them an amount of miscellaneous liter- 
 ature that would have been of benefit to a hospital, pro- 
 vided the patients were strong enough to bear it. And then 
 he bade them good-bye at least half a dozen times as the 
 train was slowly moving out of the station, and made the 
 most solemn vows about meeting them at Bregenz. 
 
 " Now, Sheila," he said, "shall we go the theatre?" 
 
 " I do not care to go unless you wish," was the answer. 
 
 " She does not care to go anywhere now," her father said; 
 and then the girl, seeing that he was rather distressed about 
 her apparent want of interest, pulled herself together and said 
 cheerfully, " Is it not too late to go to a theatre ? And I 
 am sure we could be very comfortable at home. Mairi, she 
 will think it unkind if we go to the theatre by ourselves." 
 
 " Mairi !" said her father, impatiently, for he never lost 
 an opportunity of indirectly justifying Lavender, "Mairi has 
 more sense than you, Sheila, and she knows that a servant- 
 lass has to stay at home, and she knows that she is ferry dif- 
 ferent from you ; and she is a ferry good girl whatever, and 
 hass no pride, and she does not expect nonsense in going 
 about and such things." 
 
 " I am quite sure, papa, you would rather go home and sit 
 down and have a talk with Mr. Ingram, and a pipe and a lit- 
 tle whisky, than go to any theatre." 
 
 " What I would do ! And what I would like !" said her 
 father, in a vexed way. " Sheila, you have no more sense as 
 a "lass that wass still at the school. I want you to go to the 
 theatre and amuse youself, instead of sitting in the house and 
 thinking, thinking, thinking. And all for what ?" 
 
 ' But if one has something to be sorry for, is it not better 
 to think of it?" 
 
404 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " And what hef you to be sorry for ?" said her father, in 
 amazement, and forgetting that, in his diplomatic fashion, 
 he had been accustoming Sheila to the notion that she, too, 
 might have erred grievously and been in part responsible for 
 all that had occurred. 
 
 " I have a great deal to be sorry for, papa," she said ; and 
 'jhen she renewed her entreaties that her two companions 
 should abandon their notion of going to a theatre, and re- 
 solve to spend the rest of the evening in what she consented 
 to call her home. 
 
 After all, they formed a comfortable little company when 
 they sat around the fire, which had been lit for cheerfulness 
 rather than warmth, and Ingram at least was in a particularly 
 pleasant mood. For Sheila had seized the opportunity, 
 when her father had gone out of the room for a few minutes, 
 to say suddenly, " Oh, my dear friend, if you care for her, 
 you have a great happiness before you." 
 
 " Why, Sheila?" he said, staring. 
 
 " She cares for you more than you can think: I saw it to- 
 night in everything she said and did." 
 
 " I thought she was just a trifle saucy, do you know. She 
 shunted me out of the conversation altogether." 
 
 Sheila shook her head and smiled. " She was embarrassed. 
 She suspects that you like her, and that I know it, and that I 
 came to see her. If you ask her to marry you she will do it 
 gladly." 
 
 " Sheila," Ingram said, with a severity that was not in his 
 heart, " you must not say such things. You might make 
 fearful mischief by putting these wild notions into people's 
 heads." 
 
 ''They are not wild notions," she said, quietly. " A woman 
 can tell what another woman is thinking about better than a 
 man." 
 
 " And am I to go to the Tyrol and ask her to marry me ? " 
 he said, with the air of a meek scholar. 
 
 " I should like to see you married very, very much, in- 
 deed," Sheila said. 
 
 "And to her?" 
 
 " Yes, to her," the girl said frankly. " For I am sure she 
 has great regard for you, and she is clever enough to put 
 value on on but I cannot flatter you, Mr. Ingram." 
 
 " Shall I send you word about what happens in the Tyrol ?" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 40$ 
 
 he said, still with the humble air of one receiving instruc- 
 tions. 
 
 "Yes." 
 . " And if she rejects me what shall I do f 9 
 
 " She will not reject you." 
 
 " Shall I come to you for consolation, and ask you what 
 you meant by driving me on such a blunder?" i 
 
 " If she rejects," Sheila said with a smile, " it will be your, 
 own fault, and you will deserve it. For you are a little too 
 harsh with her, and you have too much authority, and I am 
 surprised that she will be so amiable under it. Because, you 
 know, a woman expects to be treated with much gentleness 
 and deference before she has said she will marry. She likes 
 to be entreated, and coaxed, and made much of, but instead 
 of that you are very overbearing with Mrs. Lorraine." 
 
 "I did not mean to be, Sheila," he said, honestly enough. 
 " If anything of the kind happened it must have been in a 
 joke." 
 
 " Oh, no, not a joke," Sheila said, "and I have noticed it 
 before the very first evening you came to their house. 
 And perhaps you did not know of it yourself; and then 
 Mrs. Lorraine she is clever enough to see that you did not 
 mean to be disrespectful. But she will expect you to alter 
 that a great deal if you ask her to marry you ; that is, until 
 you are married." 
 
 " Have I ever been overbearing to you, Sheila ?" he asked. 
 
 " To me ? Oh, no, You have always been very gentle 
 to me ; but I know how that is. When you first knew me I 
 was almost a child, and you treated me like a child; and 
 ever since then it has always been the same. But to others 
 yes, you are too unceremonious; and Mrs. Lorraine will ex- 
 pect you to be much more mild and amiable, and you must 
 let her have opinions of her own." 
 
 " Sheila, you give me to understand that I am a bear," he 
 said, in tones of injured protest. 
 
 Sheila laughed: " Have I told you the truth at last ? It 
 was no matter so long as you had ordinary acquaintances 
 to deal with. But now if you wish to marry that pretty lady, 
 you must be much more gentle if you are discussing any- 
 thing with her; and if she says anything that is not very wise, 
 you must not say bluntly that it is foolish, but you must 
 smooth it away, and put her right gently > and then she wilj 
 
406 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 be grateful to you. But if you say to her: ' Oh, that is non- 
 sense !' as you might say to a man, you will hurt her very 
 much. The man would not care he would think you were 
 stupid to have a different opinion from him; but a woman 
 fears she is not as clever as the man she is talking to, and likes 
 his good opinion; and if she says something careless like 
 ithat, she is sensitive to it, and it wounds her. To-night you 
 {contradicted Mrs. Lorraine about the h in those Italian 
 words, and I am quite sure you were wrong. She knows 
 Italian much better than you do, and yet she yielded to you 
 very prettily." 
 
 "Go on, Sheila, go on," he said, with a resigned air. 
 " What else did I do ?" 
 
 " Oh, a great many rude things. You should not have 
 contradicted Mrs. Kavanagh about the color of an amethyst." 
 
 "But why? You know she was wrong; and she said 
 herself,- a minute afterwards that she was thinking of a sap- 
 phire." 
 
 " But you ought not to contradict a person older than 
 yourself," said Sheila, sententiously. 
 
 " Goodness gracious me ! Because one person is born in 
 one year, and one in another, is that any reason why you 
 should say that an amethyst is blue ? Mr. Mackenzie, come and 
 talk to this girl. She is trying to pervert my principles. She 
 says that in talking to a woman you have to abandon all hope 
 of being accurate, and that respect for the truth is not to be 
 thought of. Because a woman has a pretty face she is to be 
 allowed to say that black is white, and white pea-green. 
 And if you say anything to the contrary, you are a brute, 
 and had better go and bellow by yourself in a wilderness." 
 
 "Sheila is quite right," said old Mackenzie, at a venture. 
 
 " Oh, do you think so?" Ingram asked coolly. " Then I 
 can understand how her moral sentiment has been destroyed, 
 and it is easy to see where she has got a set of opinions that 
 strike at the very roots of a respectable and decent society." 
 
 "Do you know," said Sheila, seriously, "that it is very 
 rude of you to say so, even in jest. If you treat Mrs. Lor- 
 raine in this way 
 
 She suddenly stopped. Her father had not heard, being 
 busy among his pipes. So the subject was discreetly dropped, 
 Ingram reluctantly promising to pay some attention t 
 Sheila's precepts of politeness. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 407 
 
 Altogether, it was a pleasant evening they had, but when 
 Ingram had left, Mr. Mackenzie said to his daughter, 
 " Now, look at this Sheila. When Mr. Ingram goes away 
 from London, you hef no friend at all then in the place, and 
 you are quite alone. Why will you not come to the Lewis, 
 Sheila ! It is no one there will know anything of what has 
 happened here ; and Mairi she is a good girl, and she will 
 hold her tongue." 
 
 " They will ask me why I come back without my husband," 
 Sheila said, looking down. 
 
 "Oh, you will leave that all to me," said her father, who 
 knew he had surely sufficient skill to thwart the curiosity of 
 a few simple creatures in Borva. " There is many a girl hass 
 to go home for a time while her husband he is away on 
 his business ; and there will no one hef the right to ask you 
 any more than I will tell them ; and I will tell them what they 
 should know oh, yes, I will tell them ferry well and you 
 will hef no trouble about it. And, Sheila, you are a good 
 lass, and you know that I hef many things to attend to that 
 is not easy to write about " 
 
 " I do know that, papa." the girl said, " and many a time 
 have I wished you would go back to the Lewis." 
 
 'And leave you here by yourself ? Why, you are talking 
 foolishly, Sheila. But now, Sheila, you will see how you 
 could go back with me; and it would be a ferry different 
 thing for you running about in the fresh air than shut up in 
 a room in the middle of a town. And you are not looking 
 ferry well, my lass, and Scarlett she will hef to take the charge 
 of you." 
 
 "I will go to the Lewis with you, papa, when you please," 
 she said, and he was glad and proud to hear her decision, but 
 there was no happy light of anticipation in her eyes, such as 
 ought to have been awakened by this projected journey to 
 the far island which she had known as her home. 
 
 And so it was that one rough and blustering afternoon the 
 Clansman steamed into Scornoway harbor, and Sheila, cast- 
 ing timid and furtive glances toward the quay, saw Duncan 
 standing there, with the wagonette some little distance back 
 under charge of a boy. Duncan was a proud man that day. 
 He was the first to shove the gangway on to the vessel, and 
 he was the first to get on board ; and in another minute 
 Sheila found the tall, keen-eyed, brown-faced keeper before 
 
408 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 her, and he was talking in a rapid and eagei fashion, throw- 
 ing in an occasional scrap of Gaelic in the mere hurry of his 
 words. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Miss Sheila, Scarlett she is ferry well whatever, 
 but there is nothing will make her so well as your coming 
 back to sa Lewis; and we wass saying yesterday that it looked 
 as if it wass more as three or four years, or six years, since 
 you went away from sa Lewis, but now it iss no time at all, 
 for you are just the same Miss Sheila as we knew before; and 
 there is not one in all Borva but will think it iss a good day 
 this day that you will come back." 
 
 "Duncan," said Mackenzie, with an impatient stamp of 
 his foot, "why will you talk like a foolish man? Get the 
 l u gg a ge to the shore, instead of keeping us all the day in 
 the boat." 
 
 " Oh, ferry well, Mr. Mackenzie," said Duncan, depart- 
 ing with an injured air, and grumbling as he went, "it iss 
 no new thing to you to see Miss Sheila, and you will have 
 no thocht for any one but yourself. But I will get out the 
 luggage oh yes, I will get out the luggage." 
 
 Sheila, in truth, had but little luggage with her, but she 
 remained on board the boat until Duncan was quite ready 
 to start, for she did not wish just then to meet any of her 
 friends in Stornoway. Then she stepped ashore and crossed 
 the quay, and got into the wagonette; and the two horses, 
 whom she had caressed for a moment, seemed to know that 
 they were carrying Sheila back to her own country, from 
 the speed with which they rattled out of the town and away 
 into the lonely moorland. 
 
 Mackenzie let them have their way. Past the solitary 
 lakes they went, past the long stretches of undulating mo- 
 rass, past the lonely sheilings perched far up on the hills; and 
 the rough and blustering wind blew about them, and the 
 gray clouds hurried by, and the old strong- 1 Carded man who 
 shook the reins and gave the horses their heads could have 
 laughed aloud in his joy that he was driving his daughter 
 home. But Sheila she sat there as one dead: and Mairi, 
 timidly regarding her, wondered what the impassable face 
 and the bewildered, sad eyes meant. Did she not smell the 
 sweet, strong smell of the heather ? Had she no interest in 
 the great birds that were circling in the air over by the 
 Darbhas mpuntains? Where was the pleasure she used to ex- 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 409 
 
 hibit in remembering the curious names of the small lakes 
 they passed ? 
 
 &nd lo! the rough gray- day broke asunder, and a great 
 blaze of fire appeared in the West, shining across the moors 
 and touching the blue slopes of the distant hills. Sheila 
 was getting near the region of beautiful sunsets and lambent 
 twilights and the constant movement and mystery of the 
 sea. Overhead the heavy clouds were still hurried on by the 
 wind ; and in the South the Eastern slopes of the hills and the 
 moors were getting to be of a soft purple; but all along the 
 West, where her home was, lay a great flush of gold, and 
 she knew that Loch Roag was shining there, and the gable of 
 the house at Borvapost getting warm in the beautiful light. 
 
 " It is a good afternoon you will be getting to see Borva," 
 her father said to her; but all the answer she made was to ask 
 her father not to stop at Garra-na-hina, but to drive straight 
 on to Callernish. She would visit the people at Garra-na-hina 
 some other day. 
 
 The boat was waiting for them at Callernish, and the boat 
 was the Maighdean-mhara. 
 
 " How pretty she is ! How have you kept her so well, 
 Duncan ?" said Sheila, her face lighting up for the first time 
 as she went down the path to the bright painted little vessel 
 that scarcely rocked in the water below. 
 
 " Bekaas we neffer knew but that it was this week or the 
 week before, or the next week you would come back, Miss 
 Sheila, and you would want your boat; but it was Mr. Mac- 
 kenzie himself, it wass he that did all the pentin of the boat; 
 and it iss as well done as Mr. McNicol could have done it, 
 and a great better than that mirover." 
 
 "Won't you steer her yourself, Sheila?" her father sug- 
 gested, glad to see that she was at last being interested and 
 pleased. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I will steer her, if I have not forgotten all the 
 points that Duncan taught me ?" 
 
 "And I am sure you hef not done that, Miss Sheila," Dun- 
 can said, " for there wass no one knew Loch Roag better 
 as you, not one, and you hef not been so long away; and 
 when you tek the tiller in your hand, it will all come back to 
 you, just as if you wass going away from Borva the day be- 
 fore yesterday." 
 
 She certaiply had not forgotten, and she was proud and 
 
4 JO A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 pleased to see how well the shapely little craft performed its 
 duties. They had a favorable wind, and ran rapidly along 
 the opening channels until, in due course, they glided into 
 the well-known bay over which, and shining in the yellow 
 light from the sunset, they saw Sheila's home. 
 
 Sheila had escaped so far the trouble of meeting friends, 
 but she could not escape her friends in Borvapost. They 
 had waited for her for hours, not knowing when the Clans- 
 man might arrive at Stornoway ; and now they crowded 
 down to the shore, and there was a great shaking of hands, 
 and an occasional sob from some old crone, and a thousand 
 repetitions of the familiar " And are you ferry well, Miss 
 Sheila ?" from small children who had come across from the 
 village in defiance of mothers and fathers. And Sheila's face 
 brightened into a wonderful gladness, and she had a hundred 
 questions to ask for one answer she got, and she did not 
 know what to do with the number of small brown fists that 
 wanted to shake hands with her. 
 
 "Will you let Miss Sheila alone?" Duncan called out, 
 adding something in Gaelic which came strangely from a 
 man who sometimes reproved his own master for swearing. 
 " Get away with you, you brats; it wass better you would 
 be in your beds than bothering people that wass come all the 
 way from Stornoway.'' 
 
 Then they all went up in a body to the house, and Scar- 
 lett, who had neither eyes, ears nor hands, but for the young 
 girl who had been the very pride of her heart, was nigh 
 driven to distraction by Mackenzie's stormy demands ior 
 oatcake and glasses and whisky. Scarlett angrily remon- 
 strated with her husband for allowing this rabble of people to 
 interfere with the comfort of Miss Sheila; and Duncan, tak- 
 ing her reproaches with great good-humor, contented himself 
 with doing her work, and went and got the cheese 
 and the plates and the whisky, while Scarlett, with a hun- 
 dred endearing phrases, was helping Sheila to take off her 
 traveling things. And Sheila, it turned out, had brought 
 with her, in her portmanteau, certain huge and wonderful 
 cakes, not of oatmeal, from Glasgow; and these were soon on 
 the great table in the kitchen, and Sheila herself distributing 
 pieces to those small folks who were so awe-stricken by the 
 %ht of this strange dainty that they forgot their injunctions 
 thanked her timidly in Gaelic. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULtt. 41 1 
 
 "Well, Sheila, my lass," said her father to her, as they 
 stood at the door of the house and watched the troop of 
 their friends, children and all, go over the hill to Borvapost 
 in the red light of the sunset, " and are you glad to be home 
 again ?" 
 
 'Oh, yes," she said, heartily enough, and Mackenzie 
 thought that things were going on favorably. 
 
 " You hef no such sunsets in the South, Sheila," he ob- 
 served, loftily casting his eyes around, although he did not 
 usually pay much attention to the picturesqueness of his 
 native island. " Now look at the light on Suainabhal. Do 
 you see the red on the water down there, Sheila? Oh, yes; 
 I thought you would say it wass ferry beautiful it is a ferry 
 good color on the water. The water looks ferry well when 
 it is red. You hef no such things in London not any, 
 Sheila. Now, we must go in-doors, for these things you can 
 see any day here, and we must not keep our friends waiting." 
 
 An ordinary, dull-witted or careless man might have been 
 glad to have a little quiet after so long and tedious a journey, 
 but Mr. Mackenzie was no such person. He had resolved to 
 guard against Sheila's first evening at home being in any way 
 languid or monotonous, and so he had asked one or two of 
 his especial friends to remain and have supper with them. 
 Moreover, he did not wish the girl to spend the rest of the 
 evening out of doors when the melancholy time of the twi- 
 light drew over the hills, and the sea began to sound remote 
 and sad. Sheila should have a comfortable evening in-doors; 
 and he would himself, after supper, when the small parlor 
 was well lit up, sing for her one or two songs, just to keep the 
 thing going, as it were. He would let nobody else sing. 
 These Gaelic songs were not the sort of music to make peo- 
 ple cheerful. And if Sheila herself would sing for them ? 
 
 And Sheila did. And her father chose the songs for her, 
 and they were the blithest he could find, and the girl seemed 
 really in excellent spirits. They had their pipes and hot 
 whisky and water in this little parlor; Mr. Mackenzie ex- 
 plaining that although his daughter was accustomed to spa- 
 cious and gilded drawing-rooms where such a thing was im- 
 possible, she would do anything to make her friends welcome 
 and comfortable,and they might fill their glasses and their pipes 
 with impunity. And Sheila sarxg again and again, all chetr- 
 fjl and sensible English songs, and she listened to the odd 
 
414 A PRINCESS OF THULE, 
 
 jokes and stories her friends had to tell her; and Mackenzie 
 was delighted with the success of his plans and precautions. 
 Was not her very appearance now a triumph? She was 
 laughing, smiling, talking to every one; he had not seen her 
 so happy for many a day. 
 
 In the midst of it all, when the night had come apace, 
 what was this wild skirl outside that made everybody start? 
 Mackenzie jumped to his feet, with an angry vow in his 
 heart that if this " teffle of a piper, John " should come down 
 the hill playing " Lochaber no more, 1 ' or "Cha til mi 
 tuladh," or any other mournful tune, he would have his 
 chanter broken in a thousand splinters over his head. But 
 what was the wild air that came nearer and nearer, until John 
 marched into the house, and came, with ribbons and pipes, 
 to the very door of the room, which was flung open to him ? 
 Not a very appropriate air, perhaps, for it was 
 
 The Campbells are coming, oho! oho! 
 
 The Campbells are coming, oho! oho! 
 
 The Campbells are coming to bonny Lochlevcn. 
 
 The Campbells are coming, oho! oho! 
 
 But it was, to Mr. Mackenzie's rare delight, a right good 
 joyous tune, and it was meant as a welcome to Sheila ; and 
 forthwith he caught the white-haired piper by the shoulder, 
 and dragged him in, and said : "Put down your pipes, and 
 come into the house, John put down your pipes and tek off 
 your bonnet, and we shall hef a good dram together this 
 night, by Kott ! And it is Sheila herself will pour out the 
 whisky for you, John ; and she is a good Highland girl, and 
 she knows the piper was never born that could be hurt by 
 whisky, and the whisky was never yet made that could hurt a 
 piper. What do you say to that, John ?" 
 
 John did not answer ; he was standing before Sheila with 
 his bonnet in his hand, but with his pipes still proudly over 
 his shoulder. And he took the glass from her and called out 
 * Shlainte I" and drained every drop of it out, to welcome 
 Mackenzie's daughter home. 
 
PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 PART XI. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE VOYAGE OF THE PHOEBE. 
 
 IT was a cold morning in January, and up here among the 
 Jura hills the clouds had melted into a small and chilling 
 rain that fell ceaselessly. The great "Paps of Jura" were 
 hidden in the mist; even the valleys near at hand were vague 
 and dismal in the pale fog; and the Sound of Islay, lying 
 below, and the far sea beyond, were gradually growing indis- 
 tinguishable. In a rude little shelling, built on one of the 
 plateaus of rock, Frank Lavender sat alone, listening to the 
 plashing of the rain without. A rifle that he had just care- 
 fully dried lay across his knees. A brace of deer-hounds 
 had stretched out their paws on the earthen floor, and had 
 put their long noses between their paws to produce a little 
 warmth. It was, indeed,, a cold and damp morning, and the 
 little hut was pervaded with a smell of wet wood and also of 
 peat ashes, for one of the gillies had tried to light a fire, but 
 the peats had gone out. 
 
 It was Lavender who had let the fire go out. He had 
 forgotten it. He was thinking of other things of a song, 
 mostly, that Sheila used to sing, and lines of it went hither 
 and thither through his brain as he recalled the sound of 
 her voice: 
 
 Haste to thy barque, 
 Coastwise steer not: 
 
 Sail wide of Mull, 
 Jura near not ! 
 
 Farewell, she said, 
 
 Her last pang subduing, 
 
 Brave Mac Intyre, 
 Costly thy wooing! 
 
 There came into the shelling a little, wiry old keeper 
 
414 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 with shaggy "gray hair and keen black eyes. "Cosh bless 
 me!" he said, petulantly, as he wrung the rain out of hi<j 
 bonnet, " you hef let the peats go out, Mr. Lavender, and 
 who will tell when the rain will go off ?" 
 
 "It can't last long, Neil. It came on too suddenly for 
 that. 1 thought we were going to get one fine day when x?e 
 started this morning, but you don't often manage that here, 
 Neil." 
 
 " Indeed, no, sir," said Neil, who was not a native of 
 Jura, and was as eager as-any one to abuse the weather pre- 
 vailing there: " it is a ferry bad place for the weather. If 
 the Almichty were to tek the sun away a' tagefher, it would 
 be days and weeks and days before you would find it oot. 
 But it iss a good thing, sir, you will get the one stag before 
 the mist came down; and he is not a stag, mirover, but a 
 fine big hart, and a royal, too, and I hef not seen many finer 
 in the Jura hills. Oh, yes, sir, when he wass crossing the 
 burn I made out his points ferry well, and I wass saying to 
 myself, 'Now, if Mr. Lavender will get this one, it will be a 
 grand day this day, and it will make up for many a wet day 
 among the hills.'" 
 
 " They haven't come back with the pony yet?" Lavender 
 asked, laying down his gun and going to the door of the hut. 
 " Oh, no," Neil said, following him. " It iss a long way 
 to get the powny, and maybe they will stop at Mr MacDou- 
 gall's to hef a dram. And Mr. MacDougall was saying to 
 me yesterday that the ferry next time you wass shoot a royal 
 he would hef the horns dressed and the head stuffed to make 
 you a present, for he is ferry proud of the picture of Miss 
 Margaret; and he will say to me many's sa time that I wass 
 to gif you the ferry best shooting, and not to be afraid of 
 disturbing sa deer when you had a mind to go out. And I 
 am not sure, sir, we will not get another stag to tek down 
 with us yet, if the wind would carry away the mist, for the 
 rain that is nearly on now; and as you are ferry wet, sir, 
 already, it is no matter if we go do\vn t'hrough the glen and 
 cross the water to get the side of Ben Bheulah." 
 
 "That is true enough, Neil, and I fancy the clouds are 
 beginning to lift. And there they come with the pony." 
 
 Neil directed his glass toward a small group that appeared 
 to be coming up the side of the valley below them, and that 
 was still at some considerable distance. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 415 
 
 " Cosh ble: s me !" he cried, " what is that ? There iss two 
 strangers oh yes, indeed, and mirover and there is one 
 of them on the pony." 
 
 Lavender's heart leaped within him. If they were 
 strangers they \veie cois ing to see him, and how long was 
 it since he had " -r. the face of any of his old friends and 
 companions? U seemed to him years. 
 
 " Is it a man or a woman on the pony, Neil ?" he asked' 
 hurriedly, with some ^vild fancy flashing through his brain. 
 " Give me the glass. 1 ' 
 
 " Oh, it is a man, * said Neil, handing over the glass, 
 " What would a woman be doing up sa hills on a morning 
 like this?" 
 
 The small party below came up out of the gray mist, and 
 Lavender in the distance heard a long view-halloo. 
 
 "Cott tarn them!" said Neil, at a venture. "There is not 
 a deer on Benan Cabrach that will not hear them." 
 
 " But if these strangers are ccming to see me, I fear we 
 must leave the deer alone, Neil." 
 
 " Ferry well, sir, ferry well, sir; it is a bad day whatever, 
 and it is not many strangers will come to Jura. I suppose 
 they hef come to Port Ascaig, and taken the ferry across the 
 sound." 
 
 "I am going to meet them on chance," Lavender said; 
 and set off along the side of the deep valley, leaving Neil 
 with the dogs and the rifles. 
 
 "Hillo, Johnny !" he cried, in amazement, when he came 
 upon the advancing group. " And you too, Mosenberg ! 
 By Jove, how did you ever get here?" 
 
 There was an abundance of handshaking and incoherent 
 questions when young Mosenberg jumped down on the wet 
 heather, ar.d the three friends had actually met. Lavender 
 scarcely knew what to say, these two faces were so strange, 
 and yet so familiar their appearance there was so unex- 
 pected, his pleasure so great. 
 
 " I can't believe my eyes yet, Johnny. Why did you bring 
 him here ? Don't you know what you'll have to put up with 
 in this place? Well, this does do a fellow's heart good! I 
 am awfully pleased to see you, and it is very kind of you." 
 
 " But I am very cold," the handsome Jew boy said, swing- 
 ing his arms and stamping his feet. " Wet boats, wet carts, 
 wet roads, wet saddles and everywhere cold, cold, cold.'* 
 
416 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " And he won't drink whisky; so what is he to expect?** 
 Johnny Eyre said. 
 
 " Come along up to a little hut here," Lavender said, " antf 
 we'll try to get a fire lit. And I have some brandy there." 
 
 "And you have plenty of water to mix with it," said th 
 boy, looking mournfully around. " Very good. Let us 
 have the fire and the warm drink ; and then you know the 
 story of the music that was frozen in the trumpet, and that 
 all came out when it was thawed at a fire? When we get 
 warm we have very great news to tell you oh, very great 
 news indeed.'' 
 
 "I don't want any news I want your company. Come 
 along, like good fellows, and leave the news for afterward. 
 The men are going on with a pony to fetch a stag that has 
 been shot; they won't be back for an hour, I suppose, at the 
 soonest. This is the sheiling up here where the brandy is 
 secreted. Now, Neil, help us to get up a blaze. If any of you 
 have newspapers, letters, or anything that will set a few sticks 
 on fire " 
 
 " I have a box of wax matches," Johnny said, " and I 
 know how to light a peat-fire better than any man in the 
 country." 
 
 He was not very successful at first, for the peats were a 
 trifle damp; but- in the end he conquered, and a very fair 
 blaze was produced, although the smoke that had filled the 
 sheiling had nearly blinded Mosenberg's eyes. Then Lav- 
 ender produced a small tin pot and a solitary tumbler, and 
 they boiled some water and lit their pipes, and made them- 
 selves seats of peat around the fire. All the while a brisk 
 conversation was going on, some portions of which aston- 
 ished Lavender considerably. 
 
 For months back, indeed, he had almost cut himself off 
 from the civilized world. His address was known to one or 
 two persons, and sometimes they sent him a letter; but he 
 was a bad correspondent. The news of his aunt's death did 
 not reach him till a fortnight after the funeral, and then it 
 was by a singular chance that he noticed it in the columns of 
 an old newspaper. " Tha.t is the only thing I regret about 
 coming away," he was saying to those two friends of his. 
 "I should like to have seen the old woman before she died; 
 she was very kind to me.'' 
 Well," said Johnny Eyre, with a shake of the head, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 417 
 
 "that is all very well; but a mere outsider like myself you 
 see, it looks to me a little unnatural that she should go and 
 leave her money to a mere friend, and not to her own rela- 
 tions.'' 
 
 "lam very glad she did," Lavender said. "I had as 
 good as asked her to do it long before. And Ted Ingram 
 will make a better use of it than I ever did." 
 
 " It is all very well for you to say so now, after all this fuss 
 about those two pictures; but suppose she had left you to 
 starve ?" 
 
 " Never mind suppositions," Lavender said, to get rid of 
 the subject. " Tell me, Mosenberg, how is that overture of 
 yours getting on?" 
 
 "It is nearly finished," said the lad, with a flush of pleas- 
 ure, "and I have shown it in rough to two or three good 
 friends, and shall I tell you ? it may be performed at the 
 Crystal Palace. But that is a chance. And the fate of it, 
 that is also a chance. But you you have succeeded all at 
 once, and brilliantly, and all the world is talking of you and 
 yet you go away among mountains, and live in the cold and 
 wet, and you might as well be dead.'' 
 
 "What an ungrateful boy it is !" Lavender cried. " Here 
 you have a comfortable fire, and hot brandy-and-water, and 
 biscuits, and cigars if you wish; and you talk about people 
 wishing to leave these things and die ! Don't you know that 
 in half an hour's time you will see that pony come back with 
 a deer a royal hart slung across it; and won't you be 
 proud when MacDougall takes you out and gives you a chance 
 of driving home such a prize ? Then you will carry the horns 
 back to London, and you will have them put up, and you 
 will discourse to your friends of the span and the' pearls of 
 the antlers and the crockets. To-night after supper you will 
 see the horns and the head brought into the room, and if 
 you fancy that you yourself shot the stag, you will see that 
 this life among the hills has its compensations." 
 
 "It is a very cold life," the lad said, passing his hands 
 over the fire. 
 
 " That is because you won't drink anything," said Johnny 
 Eyre, against whom no such charge could be wrought. "And 
 don't you know that the drinking of whisky is a provision 
 invented by Nature to guard human beings like you and me 
 from cold and wet? You are flying in the face of Providence 
 if you don't drink whisky among the Scotch hills," 
 
418 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " And have you people to talk to ?" said Mosenberg, look- 
 ing at Lavender with a vague wonder, for he could not un- 
 derstand why any man could choose such a life. 
 1 " Not many." 
 
 " What do you do on the long evenings when you are by 
 yourself?" 
 
 " Well, it isn't very cheerful, but it does a man good ser- 
 vice sometimes to be alone for a time ; it lets him find him- 
 self out." 
 
 "You ought to be up in London, to hear all the praise of 
 the people about your two pictures. Every one is talking of 
 them ; the newspapers, too. Have you seen the news- 
 papers ?" 
 
 " One or two. But all I know of these two pictures is de- 
 rived from offers forwarded me by the secretary at the ex- 
 hibition rooms. I was surprised when I got them at first. 
 But never mind them. Tell me more about the people one 
 used to know. What about Ingram now ? Has he cut the 
 Board of Trade ? Does he drive in the Park ? Is he still in 
 his rooms in Sloane Street?" 
 
 " Then you have had no letters from him ?" Mosenberg 
 said, with some surprise. 
 
 "No. Probably he does not know where lam. In any 
 case " 
 
 " But he is going to be married," Mosenberg cried. " You 
 did not know that. And to Mrs. Lorraine." 
 
 " You don't say so? Why, he used to hate her; but that 
 was before he knew her. To Mrs. Lorraine ?" 
 
 " Yes. And it is amusing. She is so proud of him. And 
 if he speaks at the table she will turn away from you, as if 
 you were not worth listening to, and have all her attention 
 for him. And whatever is his opinion, she will defend that, 
 and you must not disagree with her. Oh, it is very amus 
 ing !" and the lad laughed and shook back his curls. 
 
 " It is an odd thing, 1 ' Lavender said : "but many a time, 
 long before Ingram ever saw Mrs. Lorraine, I used to imaging 
 these two married. I knew she was just the sort of clever^ 
 independent, clear-headed woman to see Ingram's strong 
 points, and rate them at their proper value. But I never ex- 
 pected anything of the sort, of course; for I had always a 
 notion ihat some day or other he would be led into marry, 
 ing some pretty, gentle, soft-headed young thing, whom he 
 
A fRlNCESS OF THULE. 
 
 would nvwx; to take through life in a protecting sort of way, 
 and who would never be a real companion for him So he 
 ; .s to marry Mrs. Lorraine, after all. Well, he won't become 
 a man of fashion, despite all his money. He is sure to start 
 a yacht, for one thing. And they will travel a deal. I sup- 
 pose I must write and congratulate him." 
 
 " I met them on the day I went to see your picture, "Mosen- 
 berg said. " Mrs. Lorraine was looking at it a long time, and 
 at last she came back and said, ' The sea in that picture 
 makes me feel cold.* That was a. compliment, was it not ? 
 Only you c innot get a good view very often, for the people 
 will not stand back from the pictures. But every one asks 
 why you do not keep the=e two over for the Academy." 
 
 " I shall have other two for the Academy, I hope." 
 
 " Commissions?" Johnny asked with a practical air. 
 
 " No. I have had some offers, bur I prefer to leave the 
 the thing open. But you ha 'e not told me how you got here 
 yet," Lavender added, continually breaking away from the 
 subject of the pictures. 
 
 "In the Phoebe,'' Eyre said. 
 
 " Is she in the bay ?" 
 
 "Oh, no. We had to leave her at Port Ellen to get a few 
 small repairs done, and Mosenberg and I came on by 
 road to Port Ascaig. Mind you, she was quite small enough 
 to come round the Mull at this time of year." 
 
 " I should think so. What's your crew ?" 
 
 "Two men and a lad, besides Mosenberg and myself; and 
 I can tell you we had our hands full sometimes." 
 
 " You've given up open boats with stone ballast, now," 
 Lavender said with a laugh. 
 
 "Rather. But it was no laughing matter," Eyre added, 
 with a sudden gravity coming over his face. "It was the 
 narrowest squeak I ever had, and I don't know now how I 
 clung on to that place till the day broke. When I came to 
 myself and called out for you, I never expected to hear you 
 answer; and in the darkness, by Jove ! your voice sounded 
 like the voice of a ghost. How you managed to drag me so 
 far up that sea-weed I can't imagine; and then the dipping 
 down and under the boat " 
 
 " It was that dip down that saved me," Lavender said. " It 
 brought me to, and made me scramble like a rat up the other 
 side as soon as I felt my hands on the rock again. It was a 
 
42O A PRINCESS OF THl)LE. 
 
 narrow squeak, as you say, Johnny. Do you remember how 
 black the place looked when the first light began to show in 
 the sky? and how we kept each other awake by calling? and 
 how you called ' Hurrah!*' when we heard Donald ? and how 
 strange it was to find ourselves so near the mouth of the harbor, 
 after all ? During the night I fancied we must have been 
 thrown on Battle Island, you know." 
 
 " I do not like to hear about that," young Mosenberg said. 
 "And always, if the wind came on strong or if the skies 
 grew black, Eyre would tell me all the story over again when 
 we were in the boat coming down by Arran and Cantyre. 
 Let us go out and see if they come with the deer. Has the 
 rain stopped?" 
 
 At this moment, indeed, sounds of the approaching party 
 were heard, and when Lavender and his friends went to the 
 door the pony, with the deer slung on to him, was just com- 
 ing up. It was a sufficiently picturesque sight the rude 
 little shelling with its peat fire, the brown and wiry gillies, 
 the slain deer roped on to the pony, and all around the wild 
 magnificence of hill and valley clothed in moving mists. 
 The rain had indeed cleared off, but these pale white fogs 
 still clung around the mountains and rendered the valleys 
 vague, and Lavender informed Neil that he would 
 make no further effort that day; he gave the men a 
 glass of whisky all round, and then, with his friends, he pro- 
 ceeded to make his way down to the small white cottage 
 fronting the Sound of Islay, which had been his home for 
 months back. 
 
 Just before setting off, however, he managed to take young 
 Mosenberg aside for a moment. " I suppose," he said, with 
 his eyes cast down " I suppose you heard something from 
 Ingram of of *' heila ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the lad, rather bashfully. " Ingram had heard 
 from her. She was still in Lewis." 
 
 "And well?" 
 
 " I think so yes," said Mosenberg; and then he added, 
 with some hesitation, " I should like to speak to you about 
 it when we have the opportunity. There were some things 
 that Mr. Ingram said I am sure he would like you to know 
 them." 
 
 " There was no message to me ?" Lavender asked, in a low 
 voice. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 421 
 
 " From her ? No. But it was the opinion of Mr. In- 
 gram " 
 
 "Oh, never mind that, Mosenberg," said the other, turn- 
 ing away wearily. " I suppose you won't find it too fatiguing 
 to walk from here back ? It will warm you, you know, and 
 the old woman down there will get you something to eat. 
 You may make it luncheon or dinner, as you like, for it will 
 be nearly two by the time you get down. Then you can go 
 for a prowl around the coast: if it does not rain I shall be 
 working as long as there is daylight. Then we can have a 
 dinner and supper combined in the evening. You will get 
 venison and whisky. 1 ' 
 
 " Don't you ever have anything else ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, the venison will be in honor of you: I gener- 
 ally have mutton and whisky." 
 
 " Look here, Lavender," the lad said, with considerable 
 confusion, " the fact is, Eyre and I we brought you a few 
 things in the Phoebe a little wine, you know, and some 
 such things. To-morrow, if you could get a passenger to 
 go down to Port Ellen but no. I suppose we must go and 
 work the boat up the sound." 
 
 "If you do that, I must go with you," Lavender said, 
 " for the chances are that your skipper doesn't know the 
 currents in the sound; and they are rather peculiar, I can 
 tell you. So Johnny and you have brought me some wine? 
 I wish we had it now, to celebrate your arrival, for I am 
 afraid I can offer you nothing but whisky." 
 
 The old Highland woman who had charge of the odd lit- 
 tle cottage in which Lavender lived was put into a state of 
 violent consternation by the arrival of these two strangers; 
 but as Lavender said he would sleep on a couple of chairs 
 and g ; vehis bed to Mosenberg and the sofa to Eyre, and as 
 Mosenberg declared that the house was a marvel of neatness 
 and comfort, and as Johnny assured her that he had frequently 
 slept in a herring-barrel, she grew gradually pacified. There 
 was a little difficulty about plates and knives and forks at 
 luncheon, which consisted of cold mutton and two bottles 
 of ale that had somehow been overlooked; but all these 
 minor inconveniences were soon smoothed over, and then 
 Lavender, carrying his canvas under his arm and a portable 
 easel over his shoulder, went down to the shore, bade his 
 companions good-bye for a couple of hours, ana xeft them 
 to explore the winding and rocky coast ol Jura. 
 
422 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 In the evening they had dinner in a small parlor, which 
 was pretty well filled with a chest of drawers, a sofa and a 
 series of large canvases. There was a peat-fire burning in 
 the grate and two candles on the table, out the small room 
 did not get oppressively hot, for each time the door was 
 opened a draught of cold sea-air rushed in from the passage, 
 sometimes blowing out one of the candles, but always sweet- 
 ening the atmosphere. Then Johnny had some fine tobacco 
 with him, and Mosenberg had brought Lavender a present of 
 a meerschaum pipe, and presently a small kettle of hot 
 water was put in requisition, and the friends drew round the fire. 
 
 " Wtl', it is good of you to come and see a fellow like 
 this," Lavender said, with a very apparent and hearty grati- 
 tude in his face. "I can scarcely believe my eyes that it is 
 true. And can you make any stay, Johnny? Have you 
 brought your colors with you ?" 
 
 "Oh, no; 1 don't mean to work," Johnny said. " I have 
 always had a fancy for a mid-winter cruise. It's a hardening 
 sort of thing, you know. You soon get used to it, don't you, 
 Mosenberg? ' And Johnny grinned. 
 
 "Not yet I may afterward," said the lad. "But at pres- 
 ent this is more comfortable than being on deck at night 
 when it rains and you know not where you are going." 
 
 " But that was only your own perversity. You might just 
 as well have stopped in the cabin, and played that cornopean, 
 and made yourself warm and comfortable. Really, Laven- 
 der, it's very good fun, and if you only watch for decent 
 weather you can go anywhere. Fancy our coming around 
 the Mull with the Phcebe yesterday! And we had quite a 
 pleasant trip across to Islay." 
 
 "And where do you propose to go after leaving Jura?" 
 Lavender asked. 
 
 " Well, you know the main object of our cruise was to 
 come and see you. But if you care to come with us for a few 
 days, we will go wherever you like." 
 
 "If you are going farther North, I must go with you," 
 Lavender said, " for you are bound to drown yourself some 
 day, Johnny, if some one doesn't take care of you." 
 
 There was no deep design in this project of Johnny's, but 
 he had had a vague impression that Lavender might like to 
 go North, if only to have a passing glimpse at the island he 
 used to know. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 42 ^ 
 
 " One of my fellows is well acquainted with the Hebrides," 
 he said. " If you don't think it too much of a risk, I should 
 like it myself, for those Northern islands must look uncom- 
 monly wild and savage in Winter, and one likes to have new 
 experiences. Fancy, Mosenberg, what material you will get 
 for your next piece; it will be full of storms and seas and 
 thunder. You know how the wind whistles through the over- 
 ture to the Diamants de la Couronne?" 1 
 
 " It will whistle through us," said the boy, with an antici- 
 patory shiver, " but I do not mind the wind if it is not wet. 
 It is the wet that makes a boat so disagreeable. Everything 
 is so cold and clammy; you can touch nothing, and when 
 you put your head up in the morning, pah! a dash of rain 
 ana mist and salt water altogether gives you a shock." 
 
 " What made you come around the Mull, Johnny, instead 
 of cutting through the Crinan ?" Lavender asked of his 
 friend. 
 
 " Well," said the youth, modestly, " nothing, except that 
 two or three men said we couldn't do it." 
 
 " I thought so," Lavender said. " And I see I must go 
 with you, Johnny. You must play no more of these tricks. 
 You must watch your time, and run her quietly up the Sound 
 of Jura to Crinan; and watch again, and get her up to Oban ; 
 and watch again, and get her up to Loch Sligachan. Then 
 you may consider. It is quite possible you may have fine, 
 clear weather if there is a moderate Northeast wind blow- 
 ing" 
 
 "A Northeast wind!" Mo?enberg cried. 
 
 " Yes," Lavender replied, confidently, for he had not 
 forgotten what Sheila used to teach him, "that is your only 
 chance. If you have been living in fog and rain for a fort- 
 night you will never forget your gratitude to a Northeaster 
 when it suddenly sets in to lift the clouds and show you a 
 bit of blue sky. But it may knock us about a bit in crossing 
 the Minch." 
 
 " We have come around the Mull, and we can go any- 
 where," Johnny said. " I'd back the Phoebe to take you 
 safely to the West Indies; wouldn't you, Mosenberg?" 
 
 " Oh, no," the boy said. " I would back her to take you, 
 not to take me." 
 
 Two or three days thereafter the Phoebe was brought up 
 the sound from Port Ellen, and such things as were meant as 
 
4^4 A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 a present to Lavender were landed. Then the three friends 
 embarked, for the weather had cleared considerably, and 
 there was indeed, when they set out, a pale wintry sunshine 
 gleaming on the sea and on the white deck and spars of the 
 handsome little cutter which Johnny commanded. The 
 Phoebe was certainly a great improvement on the crank craft 
 in which he used to adventure his life on LochFyne; she was 
 big enough, indeed, to ^ive plenty of work to everybody on 
 board 01 her; and when she had once got into harbor and 
 things put to rights, her chief stateroom proved a jolly and 
 comfortable little place enough. They had some pleasant 
 evenings in this way after the work of the day was over, 
 when the swinging lamps shone down on the table that was 
 furnished with glasses, bottles ; cigars and cards. Johnny 
 was very proud of being in command and of hk exploit in 
 doubling the Mull. He was continually consulting charts 
 and compasses, and going on deck to communicate his last 
 opinion to his skipper. Mosenberg, too, was getting better 
 accustomed to the hardships of yachting, and learning how 
 to secure a fair amount of comfort. Lavender never said 
 that he wished to ^o near Lewis, but there was a tacit 
 understanding that their voyage should tend in that direc- 
 tion. 
 
 They had a little rough weather on reaching Skye, and in 
 consequence remained in harbor a couple of days. At the 
 end of that time a happy opportunity presented itself of cut- 
 ting across the Little Minch the Great Minch was consid- 
 ered a trifle risky to Loch Maddy in North Uist. They 
 wer.e now in the Western Islands, and strange indeed was 
 the appearance which the bleak region presented at this 1 
 til ie of the year the lonely coast, the multitudes of wild 
 fowt, the half-savage,, wondering inhabitants, the treeless 
 wastes and desolate rocks. What these remote and melan- 
 choly islands might have looked like in fog and misty rain 
 could only be imagined, however, for, fortunately, the longed- 
 for Northeaster had set in, and there were wan glimmerings 
 of sunshine across the sea and the solitary shores. They re- 
 mained in Loch Maddy but a single day, and then, still 
 favored by a brisk Northeast breeze, made their way through 
 the Sound of Harris and got to leeward of the conjoint island 
 of Harris and Lewis. There, indeed, were the great moun- 
 tains which Lavender had seen many a time from the North, 
 
A'fRINCESS OF THULE. 425 
 
 and now they were close at hand, and dark and forbidding. 
 The days were brief at this time, and they were glad to put 
 into Loch Resort, which Lavender had once seen in company 
 with old Mackenzie when they had come into the neighbor- 
 hood on a salmon-fishing excursion. 
 
 The Phoebe was at her anchorage, the clatter on deck 
 over, and Johnny came below to see what sort of repast could 
 be got for the evening. It was not a very grand meal, but 
 he said: " I propose that we have a bottle of champagne to 
 celebrate our arrival at the island of Lewis. Did you ever 
 see anything more successfully done ? And now, if this wind 
 continues, wo can creep up to-morrow to Loch Roag, Laven- 
 der, if you would li^e to have a look at it." 
 
 For a moment the color forsook Lavender's face. "No, 
 thank you, Johnny," he was about to say, when his friend 
 interrupted him: '' Look here, Lavender; I know you would 
 like to see the place, and you can do it easily without being 
 seen. No one knows me. When we anchor in the bay, I 
 suppose Mr. Mackenzie as is the hospitable and praise- 
 worthy custom in these parts will send a message to the 
 yacht and ask us to dine with him. I, at any rate, can go 
 jp and call on him, and make excuses for you; and then I 
 could tell you, you know " Johnny hesitated. 
 
 "Would you do that for me, Johnny ?" Lavender said. 
 " Well, you ure a good fellow !'' 
 
 " Oh," Johnny said Kghtly, " it's a capital adventure for 
 me; and perhaps could ask Mackenzie Mr a Mackenzie; I 
 beg your pardon to let me have two or three clay pines, for 
 this briar-roo;; rapidly going to the devil." 
 
 -' He will giv: you anything he has in the house; you never 
 saw such a hospitable fellov/,- Johnny. But you must take 
 great care what you do." 
 
 ;< You must trust to me. In the meantime let's see what 
 Pate knows about Loch Roag." 
 
 Johnny called down his skipper, a bluff, short, red-faced 
 man, who presently appeared, his cap in his Iiand. 
 
 ''Will you have a glass of champagne, Pate 
 . "Oh, ay, sir," he said, not very eagerly. 
 
 '-' Vould you rather have a jlacs of whisky ?" 
 
 " Well, sir/' Pate said, ;n accents that showed that his 
 Highland pronunciation had been corrupted by many years' 
 residence in Grcenock, " I was t' ; akin' '.ho whisky was - wee 
 thinj better for ye on a cauld i~_ut. ;> 
 
426 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "Here you are, then! Now, tell me, do vou know Loch 
 Roag?" 
 
 "Oh, ay, fine. Many's the time I hiv been in to Borva- 
 post." 
 
 " But," said Lavender, " do you know the loch itself? Do 
 you know the bay on which Mackenzie's house stands ?" 
 
 " Weel, I'm no' sae cure aboot that, sir. But if ye want 
 to gang there, wo can pick up some bit body at Borvapost 
 that will tak' us around." 
 
 " Well," Lavender said, " I think I can tell you how to go. 
 I know the channel is quite simple there are no rocks 
 about and once you are round the point you will see your 
 anchorage." 
 
 "It's twa or three years since I was there, sir," Pate re- 
 marked., as he put the glass back on the table. "I mind 
 there was a daft auld man there that played the pipes." 
 
 * c That was old John the Piper,'' Lavender said. " Don't 
 you remember Mr. Mackenzie, whom they call the King of 
 Borva?" 
 
 "Weel, sir, I never saw him, but I was aware he was in 
 the place. I have never been up here afore wi' a party of 
 gentlemen, and he wasna coming down to see the like o' us." 
 
 \7ith what a strange feeling Lavender beheld, the following 
 aftei .icon, the opening to the great loch that he knew so well! 
 He recognized the various rocky promontories, the Gaelic 
 names of which Sheila had translated for him. Down there 
 in the South were the great heights of Suainabhal and Craca- 
 bahl and MealasabhaL Right in front was the sweep of 
 Borvapost Bay, and its huts and its smaH garden patches; and 
 up beyond it was th. hill on which Sheila used to sit in the 
 evening to watch tha sun go down behind the Atlantic. It 
 was j ;e entering again a world with which he had once been 
 familiar, and in which he had left behind a peaceful happi- 
 ness .e had sought in vain elsewhere. Somehow, as the yacht 
 dippsd to the waves and slowly made her way into the loch, 
 it seemed to him that he was coming home that he was re- 
 turning to the old and quiet joys he had experienced there 
 that all the past time that had darkened his life was now to 
 be removed. But when, at last, he saw Mackenzie's house 
 high up there over the tiny bay, a strange thrill of excitement 
 passed through him, and that was followed by a cold feeling 
 of despair, which he did not seek to remove. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 427 
 
 He stood on the companion, his head only being visible, 
 and directed Pate until the Phoebe had arrived at her moor- 
 ings, and then ho went below. He had looked v- istfully for 
 a time up to the square, dark house, with its scail.t copings, 
 in the vague hope of seeing some figure he knew ; but now 
 sick at heart, and fearing that Mackenzie might make him 
 out with a glass, he sat down in the state-room, alone and 
 silent and miserable. 
 
 He was startled by the sound of oars, and got up and list- 
 ened. Mosenberg came down and said, "Mr. Mackenzie 
 has sent a tall, thin man do you know him? to see who we 
 ^re, and whether we will go up to his house." 
 
 "What did Eyre say?" 
 
 " I don't know. I suppose he is going." 
 
 Then Johnny himself came below. He was a sensitive 
 young fellow, and at this moment he was very confused, ex- 
 cited and nervous. " Lavender," he said, stammering some- 
 what, "I am going up now to Mackenzie's house. You 
 know whom I shall see; shall I take any message if I see a 
 chance if your name is mentioned a hint, you know " 
 
 "Tell her," Lavender said, with a sudden pallor of de- 
 termination in his face; but he stopped, and said abruptly, 
 " Never mind, Johnny; don't say anything about me." 
 
 ''Not to-night, anyway," Johnny said to himself as he 
 drew on his best jacket, with its shining brass buttons, and 
 went up the companion to see if the small boat was ready. 
 
 Johnny had had a good deal of knocking about the West- 
 ern Highlands, and was familiar with the frank and 
 ready hospitality which the local lairds more particularly 
 jn the remote islands; where a stranger brought recent news- 
 papers and a breath of the outer world with him gran ted to 
 all comers who bore with them the credentials of owning 
 a yacht. But never before had he gone up to a strange 
 house with such perturbation of spirit. He had been so 
 anxious, too, that he had left no time for preparation. When 
 he started up the hill he could see, in the gathering dusk, 
 that the tall keeper had just entered the house, and when he 
 arrived there he found absolutely nobody about the place. 
 
 In ordinary circumstances he would simply have walked in 
 and called some one from the kitchen. But he now felt 
 himself somewhat of a spy, and wjs not a little afraid of 
 meeting the handsome M's Lavender, of whom he had heard 
 
428 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 so much. There was no hgnt in the passage, but there was a 
 bright red gloom in one of the windows, and almost inad- 
 vertently he glanced in there. What was this strange picture 
 he saw ? The red flame of the fire showed him the grand 
 figures on the walls of Sheila's dining-room, and lit up the; 
 white table-cover and the crystal in the middle of the apart- 
 ment. A beautiful young girl, clad in a tight blue dress, 
 had just arisen from beside the fire to light two candles tha>; 
 were on the table ; and then she went back to her seat anc j 
 took up her sewing, but not to sew, for Johnny saw her gently 
 kneel down beside a little bassinet that was a mass of won. 
 derful pink and white, and he supposed the door in the pas- 
 sage was open, for he could hear a low voice humming 
 some lullaby-song sung by the young mother to her child. 
 He went back a. step bewildered by what he had seen. Could 
 he fly down to the shore, and bring Lavender up to look at 
 this picture through the window, and beg of him to go in 
 and throw himself on her forgiveness and mercy? He 
 had not time to think twice. At this moment Mairi appeared 
 in the dusky passage, looking a little scared, although she did 
 not drop the plates she carried : " Oh, sir, and are you the 
 gentleman that has come in the yacht? And Mr. Mackenzie, 
 he is upstairs just now, but he will be down ferry soon; and 
 will you come in and speak to Miss Sheila?" 
 
 " Miss Sheila!" he repeated to himself .with amazement; 
 and the next moment he found himself before this beautiful 
 young girl, apologizing to her, stammering, and wishing that 
 he had never undertaken such a task, while he knew that all 
 the time she was calmly regarding him with her large, calm 
 and gentle eyes, and that there was no trace of embarrass- 
 ment in her manner. 
 
 "Will you take a seat by the fire until papa comes down?" 
 she said. "We are very glad to have any one come to see 
 us; we do not have many visitors in the winter." 
 
 "But I am afraid," he stammered, " I am putting you to 
 trouble ;" and he glanced at the swinging pink and white 
 couch?" 
 
 "Oh, no," Sheila said with a smile; " I was just about to 
 send my little boy to bed." 
 
 She lifted the sleeping child and rolled it in some enor- 
 mous covering of white and silken-haired fur, and gave the 
 small bundle to Mairi to carry to Scarlett. 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 429 
 
 "Stop a bit!" Johnny called out to Mairi; and the girl 
 started and looked around, whereupon he said to Sheila, with 
 much blushing, " Isn't there a superstition about an infant 
 waking to find silver in its hands? I am suie you wouldn't 
 mind my " 
 
 " He cannot hold anything yet," Sheila said, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Then, Mairi, you must put this below his pillow. Is not 
 that the same thing for luck?" he said, addressing the young 
 Highland girl as if he had known her all his life ; and Mairi 
 went away proud and pleased to have this precious bundle 
 to carry, and talking to it with a thousand soft and endear- 
 ing phrases in her native tongue. 
 
 Mackenzie came in and found the two talking together. 
 "How do you do, sir?" he said, with a grave courtesy. 1 
 " You are ferry welcome to the island, and if there is any- 
 thing you want for the boat you will hef it from us. She is 
 a little thing to hef come so far." 
 
 " She's not very big," Johnny said, "but she's a thorough 
 good sailer; and then we watch our time, you know. But 
 I don't think we shall go farther North than Lewis." 
 
 " Hef you no friends on board with you?" Mackenzie 
 asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes," Johnny answered, "two. But we did not wish 
 to invade your house in a body. To-morrow " 
 
 "To-morrow!" said Mackenzie, impatiently; "no, but 
 to-night ! Duncan, come here ! Duncan, go down to the 
 boat that has just come in and tell the gentlemen " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir," Johnny cried, ''but my two 
 friends are regularly done up tired; they were just going to 
 turn in when I left the yacht. To-morrow, now, you will see 
 them." 
 
 " Oh, ferry well, ferry well," said Mackenzie, who had 
 hoped to have a big dinner party for Sheila's amusement. "In 
 any way, you will stop and hef some dinner ? It is just ready 
 oh, yes and it is not a ferry fine dinner, but it will be dif- 
 ferent from your cabin for you to sit ashore." 
 
 ' Well, if you will excuse me " Johnny was about to say, 
 for he was so full of the news he had to tell that he would 
 have sacrificed twenty dinners to get off at this moment. 
 But Mr. Mackenzie would take no denial. An additional 
 cover was laid, for the stranger, and Johnny sat down to stare 
 
430 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 at Sheila in a furtive way, and to talk to her father about 
 everything that was happening in the great world. 
 
 " And what now is this," said Mackenzie, with a lofty and 
 careless air " what is this 1 see in the papers about pictures 
 painted by a gentleman called Lavender? I hef a great in- 
 terest in these exhibitions. Perhaps you hef seen the 
 pictures ?" 
 
 Johnny blushed very red, but he hid his face over his plate, 
 and presently he answered, without daring to look at Sheila: 
 "I should think I have seen them ! Why, if you care for 
 coast landscapes, I can tell you you never saw such thorough 
 good work in all your life ! Why, everybody's talking of 
 them. You never heard of a man making such a name for 
 himself in so short a time." 
 
 He ventured to look up. There was a strange, proud light 
 in the girl's face, and the effect of it on this bearer of good 
 tidings was to make him launch into such praises of these 
 pictures as considerably astonished old Mackenzie. As for 
 Sheila, she was proud and happy, but not surprised. She 
 had known it all along. She had waited for it patiently, 
 and it had come at last, although she was not to share in his 
 triumph. 
 
 " I know some people who know him," said Johnny, who 
 had taken two or three glasses of Mackenzie's sherry, and 
 felt bold; "and what a shame it is he should go away from 
 all his friends, and almost cease to have any communication 
 with them ! And then, of all the places in the world to 
 spend the Winter in, Jura is about the " 
 
 "Jura!" said Sheila, quickly, and he fancied that her 
 face paled somewhat. 
 
 "I believe so," he said; "somewhere on the Western 
 coast, you know, over the Sound of Islay." 
 
 Sheila was obviously very much agitated, but her father 
 said, in a careless way, " Oh, yes, Jura is not a ferry good 
 place in the Winter. And the West side, you said ? Ay, 
 there are not many houses on the West side; it is not a ferry 
 good place to live in. But it will be ferry cheap, whatever." 
 
 " I don't think that is the reason of his living there," said 
 -Johnny, with a laugh. 
 
 "But," Mackenzie urged, rather anxiously, "you wass not 
 saying he would get much for these pictures ? Oh, no, who 
 will give much money for pictures of rocks and sea-weed ? 
 Oh, no!" 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 431 
 
 " Oh, won't they, though ?" Johnny cried. " They give a 
 deal more for that sort of picture now than for the old-fash- 
 ioned cottage-scenes, with a young lady dressed in a drugget 
 petticoat and a pink jacket, sitting peeling potatoes. Don't 
 you make any mistake about that. The public are beginning 
 to learn what real good work is, and, by Jove! don't they 
 pay for it, too ? Lavender got eight hundred pounds for the 
 smaller of the two pictures I told you about." 
 
 Johnny Eyre was beginning to forget that the knowledge 
 he was showing of Frank Lavender's affairs was suspiciously 
 minute. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," Mackenzie said, with a frown. " It is all 
 nonsense the stories that you hear. 1 hef had great experi- 
 ence of these exhibitions. I hef been to London several 
 times, and every time I wass in the exhibitions." 
 
 " But I should know something of it, too, for I am an art 
 ist myself." 
 
 " And do you get eight hundred pounds for a small pic- 
 ture ?" Mackenzie asked severely. 
 
 "Well, no," said Johnny, with a laugh. " But then I am 
 a duffer." 
 
 After dinner Sheila left the room: Johnny fancied he knew 
 where she was going. He pulled in a chair to the fire, lit his 
 pipe, and said he would have but one glass of toddy, which 
 Mackenzie proceeded to make for him. And then he said to 
 the old King of Borva, " I beg your pardon, sir, but will 
 you allow me to suggest that that young girl who was in here 
 before dinner should not call your daughter Miss Sheila be- 
 fore strangers !" 
 
 " Oh, it is very foolish," said Mackenzie, " but it is an old 
 habit, and they will not stop it. And Duncan, he is worse 
 than any one." 
 
 " Duncan, I suppose, is the tall fellow who waited at 
 dinner ?" 
 
 "Oh, ay, that is Duncan." 
 
 Johnny's ingenious bit of stratagem had failed. He wanted 
 to have old Mackenzie call his daughter Mrs. Lavender, so 
 that he might have had occasion to open the question and 
 plead for his friend. But the old man resolutely ignored the 
 relationship between Lavender and his daughter so far as this 
 stranger was concerned, and so Johnny had to go away partly 
 disappointed. 
 
43 2 A PRlNCfiSS OF THULE. 
 
 But another opportunity might occur, and in the mean- 
 time was not he carrying rare news down to the Phoebe ? 
 He had lingered too long in the house, but now he made 
 up for lost time, and once or twice nearly missed his footing 
 in running down the steep path. He had to find the small 
 boat for himself, and go out on the slippery stones and sea- 
 weed to get into her. Then he pulled away from the shore, 
 his oars striking white fire into the dark water, the water 
 gurgling at the bow. Then he got into the shadow of the 
 black hull of the yacht, and Pate was there to lower the little 
 gangway. 
 
 When Johnny stepped on deck, he paused, in considerable 
 doubt as to what he should do. He wished to have a word 
 with Lavender alone; how could he go down with such a mes- 
 sage as he had to deliver to a couple of fellows probably 
 smoking and playing chess ? 
 
 " Pate," he said, "tell Mr. Lavender I want him to come 
 on deck for a minute." 
 
 " He's by himsei', sir," Pate said. " He's been sitting by 
 himsel' for the last hour. The young gentleman's lain 
 doon." 
 
 Johnny went down into the little cabin. Lavender, who 
 had neither book nor cigar, nor any other sign of occupa- 
 tion near him, seemed in his painful anxiety almost incapable 
 of asking the question that rose to his lips. 
 
 ' Have you seen her, Johnny? ' he said, at length, with 
 his face looking strangely careworn. 
 
 . Johnny was an impressionable young fellow. There were 
 tears running freely down his cheeks as he said, " Yes, I 
 have, Lavender, and she was rocking a child in a cradle.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 
 
 THAT same night Sheila dreamed a strange dream, and it 
 seemed to her that an angel of God came to her and .stood 
 before her, and looked at her with his shining face and his 
 sad eyes. And he said, " Are you a woman, and yet slow to 
 forgive? Are you a mother, and have you no love for the 
 father of your child ?" It seemed to her that she could not 
 answer. She fell on her knees before him, and covered her 
 
A PRINCESS OF IHULE. 
 
 face with her hands and wept. And when she raised her 
 eyes again the angel was gone, and in his place Ingram was 
 there, stretching out his hand to her and bidding her rise and 
 be comforted. Yet he, too, spoke in the same reproachful 
 tones, and said, " What would become of us all, Sheila, if 
 none of our actions were to be condoned by time and repen- 
 tance ? What would become of us if we could not say, at 
 some particular point of our lives, to the by-gone time, that 
 we had left it, with all its errors and blunders and follies, be- 
 hind us, and would, with the help of God, start clear on a 
 new sort of life ? What would it be if there were no forget- 
 fulness for any of us no kindly vail to come down and shut 
 out the memory of what we have done if the staring record 
 were to be kept forever before our eyes ? And you are a 
 woman, Sheila; it should be easy for you to forgive and to 
 encourage, and to hope for better things' of the man you 
 love ? Has he not suffered enouph ? Have you no word for 
 him?" 
 
 The sound of her sobbing in the night-time brought her 
 father to the door. He tapped at the door, and said, "What 
 is the matter, Sheila?" 
 
 She awoke with a slight cry, and he went into the room 
 and found her in a strangely troubled state, her hands out- 
 stretched to him, her eyes wet and wild. " Papa, I have 
 been very cruel. I am not fit to live any more. There is 
 no woman in the world would have done what I have done." 
 
 "Sheila," he said, " you hef been dreaming again about all 
 that folly and nonsense. Lie down, like a good lass. You 
 will wake the boy if you do not lie down and go to sleep; 
 and to-morrow we will pay a visit to the yacht that hass 
 come in, and you will ask the gentlemen to look at the 
 Maighdean-mhara." 
 
 " Papa," she said, "to-morrow I want you to take me to 
 Jura." 
 
 " To Jura, Sheila ? You cannot go to Jura. You cannot 
 leave the baby with Mairi, Sheila. 1 ' 
 
 " I will take him with me," she said. 
 
 " Oh, it is not possible at all, Sheila. But I will go to Jura 
 oh yes, I will go to Jura. Indeed, I was thinking last 
 night that I would go to Jura." 
 
 " Oh no, you must not go," she cried. "You would speak 
 harshly and he is very proud and we should never see each 
 
4.34 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 other again. Papa, I know you will do this for me you will 
 let me go." 
 
 "It is foolish of you, Sheila," her father said, "to think 
 that I do not know how to arrange such a thing without 
 making a quarrel of it. But you will see all about it in the 
 morning. Just now you will lie down, like a good lass, and 
 go to sleep. So good-night, Sheila, and do not think of it 
 any more till the morning." 
 
 She thought of it all through the night, however. She 
 thought of her sailing away down through the cold wintry 
 seas to search that lonely coast. Would the gray dawn 
 break with snow, or would the kindly heavens lend her some 
 fair sunlight as she set forth on her lonely quest? And ali 
 the night through she accused herself of being hard of heart, 
 and blamed herself, indeed, for all that had happened in the 
 by-gone time, Just as the day was coming in she fell asleep, 
 and she dreamed that she went to the angel whom she had 
 seen before, and knelt down at his feet and repeated in 
 some vague way the promises she had made on her marriage 
 morning. With her head bent down she said that she would 
 live and die a true wife if only another chance were given 
 her. The angel answered nothing, but he smiled with his 
 sad eyes and put his hand for a moment on her head, and 
 then disappeared, When she awoke Mairi was in the room 
 silently stealing away the child, and the white daylight was 
 clear in the windows. 
 
 She dressed with tremblinghands, and yet there was a faint 
 suffused sense of joy in her heart. She wondered if her father 
 would keep to his promise of the night before, or whether it 
 had been made to get her to rest. In any case she knew that 
 he could not refuse her much; and had not he himself said 
 that he had intended going away down to Jura? 
 
 "Sheila, you are not looking well this morning," her father 
 said; "it is foolish for you to lie awake and think of such 
 things. And as for what you were saying about Jura ; how 
 can you go to Jura? We hef no boat big enough for that. 
 I could go oh yes, / cculd go but the boat I would get at 
 Stornoway you would not get in at all, Sheila; and as for 
 the baby " 
 
 "But,. then, papa," she said, "did not the gentleman who 
 was here last night say that they were going back by Jura? 
 And it is a big yacht, and he has only two friends on board, 
 He might take us down." .- . 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 435 
 
 *' You tannot ask a stranger, Sheila. Besides, the boat is 
 too small a one for this time of the year. I should not like 
 to see you go in her, Sheila." 
 
 *' I have no fear," the girl said. 
 
 " No fear !" her father said impatiently. " No, of course 
 you heno fear; that is the mischief. You will take no care 
 of yourself whatever." 
 
 "When is the young gentleman coming up, this morning?'* 
 
 "Oh, he will not come up again till I go down. Will you 
 go down to the boat, Sheila, and go on board of her ?" 
 
 Sheila assented, and some half hour thereafter she stood at 
 the door, clad in her tight-fitting blue serge, with the hat and 
 sea-gull's wing over her splendid masses of hair. It was an 
 angry-looking morning enough; rags of gray clouds were 
 being hurried past the shoulders of Suainabhal; a heavy surf 
 was beating on the shore. 
 
 " There is going to be rain, Sheila," her father said, smell- 
 ing the moisture in the keen air. " Will you hef your water- 
 proof?" 
 
 " Oh, no," she said, " if I am to meet strangers, I cannot 
 wear a waterproof." 
 
 The sharp wind had brought back the color to her cheeks, 
 and there was some gladness in her eyes. She knew she 
 might have a fight for it before she could persuade her father 
 to set sail in this strange boat ; but she never doubted for a 
 moment, recollecting the gentle face and modest manner of 
 the youthful owner, that he would be really glad to do her a 
 service, and she knew that her father's opposition would give 
 way. 
 
 " Shall we take Bras, papa?" 
 
 " No, no," her father said " we will hef to go in a small 
 boat. I hope you will not get wet, Sheila ; there is a good 
 breeze on the water this morning." 
 
 " i think they are much safer in here than going around 
 the islands just at present," Sheila said. 
 
 " Ay, you are right there, Sheila," her father said, looking 
 at the direction of the wind. " They got in in a ferry good 
 time. And they may hef to stay for a while before they can 
 face the sea again.'' 
 
 " And we shall become very great friends with them, papa, 
 and they will be glad to take us to Jura," she said with a 
 smile, for she knew there was not much of the hospitality of 
 Borvapost bestowed wih ulterior motives. 
 
436 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 They went down the steep path to the bay, where the 
 Phoebe was lurching and heaving in the rough swell, her 
 bowsprit sometimes nearly catching the crest of a wave. No 
 one was on deck. How were they to get on board ?" 
 
 "They can't hear you in this wind," Sheila said. "We 
 will have to haul down our own boat." 
 
 \ And that, indeed, they had to do, though the work of get- 
 ting the little thing down the beach was not very arduous for 
 a. man of Mackenzie's build. 
 
 "I am going to pull you out to the yacht, papa," Sheila 
 said. 
 
 " Indeed you will do no such thing," her father said, indig- 
 nantly. "As if you wass a fisherman's lass, and the gentle- 
 men never wass seeing you before ! Sit down in the stern, 
 Sheila, and hold on ferry tight, for it is a rough water for 
 this little boat. ' 
 
 They had almost got out, indeed, to the yacht before any 
 one was aware of their approach, but Pate appeared in time 
 to seize the rope that Mackenzie flung him, and with a little 
 scrambling, they were at last safely on board. The noise of 
 their arrival, however, startled Johnny Eyre, who was lying 
 on his back smoking a pipe alter breakfast. He jumped up 
 and said to Mosenberg, who was his only companion, "Hal- 
 loa ! here's this old gentleman come on board. F.e knows 
 you. What's to be done?" 
 
 "Done?" said the boy, with a moment's hesitation; and 
 then a flush of decision sprang into his face. " Ajk him to 
 come down. Yes, I will speak to him, and tell him that 
 Lavender is on the island. Perhaps he meant to go into the 
 house; who knows? If he did not, let us make him." 
 
 " All right ?" said Johnny; "let's go a buster." 
 
 Then he called up the companion to Pate to send the gen- 
 tleman below, while he flung a few things aside to make the 
 place more presentable. Johnny had been engaged a few 
 minutes before in sewing a button on a woolen shirt, and 
 that article of attire does not look well beside a breakfast- 
 table. 
 
 His visitors began to descend the narrow wooden steps, and 
 presently Mackenzie was heard to say, "Tek great care, 
 Sheila; the brass is ferry slippery." 
 
 " Oh, thunder!" Johnny said, looking at Mosenberg. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Eyre," said the old King of 
 
A PRINCESS OP THULE. 437 
 
 stooping to get into the cabin; " it is a rough day you are 
 getting. Sheila, mind your head till you have passed the 
 door." 
 
 Mackenzie came forward to shake hands, and, in doing so, 
 caught sight of Mosenberg. The whole truth flashed upon 
 him in a moment, and he instantaneously turned to Sheila, 
 and said, quickly, " Sheila, go up on deck for a moment." f 
 
 But she, too, had seen the lad, and she came forward, with 
 a pale face, but with a perfectly self-possessed manner, ac.JL 
 said, " How do you do? It is a surprise your coming to 
 the island, but you often used to talk of it." 
 
 "Yes," he stammered, as he shook hands with her and her 
 father, " I often wished to come here. What a wild place it 
 is ! And have you lived here, Mrs. Lavender, all the time 
 since you left London ?" 
 
 "Yes, I have." 
 
 Mackenzie was getting very uneasy. Every moment he 
 expected Lavender would enter this confined little cabin; 
 and was this the place for these two to meet, before a lot of 
 acquaintances ? 
 
 "Sheila," he said, "it is too close for you here, and I am 
 going to have a pipe with the gentlemen. Now if you wass 
 a good lass you would go ashore again, and go up to the 
 house, and say to Mairi that we will all come for luncheon at 
 one o'clock, and she must get some fish up from 
 Borvapost. Mr. Eyre, he will send a man ashore with 
 you in his own boat, that is bigger than mine, and you will 
 show him the creek to put into. Now go away, like a 
 good lass, and we will be up ferry soon oh, yes, we will be 
 up directly at the house." 
 
 " I am sure," Sheila said to Johnny Eyre, " we can make 
 you mo^e comfortable up at the house than you are here, 
 although it is a nice little cabin." And then she turned to 
 Mosenberg and said, " And we have a great many things to 
 talk about." 
 
 " Could she suspect ?" Johnny asked himself, as he escorted 
 her to the boat and pulled her in himself to the shore. Her 
 face was pale, and her manner a trifle formal, otherwise she 
 showed no sign. He watched her go along the stones till 
 she reaches the path, then he pulled out to the Phoebe again 
 and went down below to entertain his host of the previous 
 evening. 
 
43 8 A PRINCESS OP THULE. 
 
 Sheila walked slowly up the rude little path, taking little 
 heed of the blustering wind and the hurrying clouds. Her 
 eyes were bent down, her face was pale. When she got to 
 the top of the hill, she looked, in a blank sort of way, all 
 around the bleak moorland, but probably she did not expect 
 to see any one there. Then she walked, with rather an un- 
 certain step, into the house. She looked into the room, the 
 door of which stood open. Her husband sat there, with his 
 arms outstretched on the table and his head buried in his 
 hands. He did not hear her approach, her footfall was so 
 light, and it was with the same silent step she went into the 
 room and knelt down beside him and put her hands and 
 face on his knee, and said simply, "I beg for your forgive- 
 ness." 
 
 He started up and looked at her as though she were some 
 spirit, and his own face was haggard and strange. " Sheila," 
 he said in a low voice, laying his hand gently on her head, 
 " It is I who ought to be there, and you know it. But I can- 
 not meet your eyes. I am not going to ask for your forgive- 
 ness just yet; I have no right to expect it. All I want is this; 
 if you will let me come and see you just as before we were 
 married, and if you will give me a chance of winning your 
 consent ever again, we can at least be friends until then. But 
 why do you cry, Sheila? You have nothing to reproach 
 yourself with." 
 
 She rose and regarded him for a moment with her stream- 
 ing eyes, and then, moved by the passionate entreaty of her 
 face, and forgetting altogether the separation and time of 
 trial he had proposed, he caught her to his bosom and kissed 
 her forehead, and talked soothingly and caressingly to her as 
 if she were a child. 
 
 " I cry," she said, " because I am happy because I believe 
 all that time is over because I think you will be kihd to me. 
 And I will be a good wife to you, and you will forgive me 
 all that I have done." 
 
 "You are heaping coals of fire on my head, Sheila," he 
 said, humbly. " You know I have nothing to forgive. As for 
 you, I tell you I have no right to expect your forgiveness yet. 
 But I think you will find out by-and-by that my repentance 
 is not a mere momentary thing. I have had a long time to 
 think over what has happened, and what I lost when I lost 
 you, Sheila." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 439 
 
 " But you have found me again," the girl said, pale a little, 
 and glad to sit down on the nighest couch, while she held 
 his hand and drew him toward her. " And now I must ask 
 you for one thing." 
 
 He was sitting beside her; he feared no longer to meet the 
 look of those earnest, meek, affectionate eyes. 
 
 " This is it/' she said. " If we are to be together not 
 what we were, but something quite different from that will 
 you promise me never to say one word about what is pact 
 to shut it out altogether to forget it !" 
 
 ''I cannot, Sheila," he said. "Am I to have no chance 
 of telling you how well I know how cruel I was to you how 
 sorry I am for it ?" 
 
 " No," she said, firmly. " If you have some things to re- 
 gret, so have I ; and what is the use of competing with each 
 other as to which has the most forgiveness to ask for ? Frank, 
 dear, you will do this for me ? You will promise never to 
 speak one word about that time ?' 
 
 How earnest the beautiful, sad face was ! He could not 
 withstand the entreaty of the piteous eyes. He said to her, 
 abashed by the great love that she showed, and hopelebo of 
 making other reparation than obedience to her generous 
 wish, " Let it be so, Sheila. I will never speak a word about 
 it. You will see otherwise than in words whether I forget 
 what is passed, and your goodness in letting it go. But, 
 Sheila," he added, with downcast face, " Johnny Eyre was 
 here last night. He told me " He had to say no more. 
 She took his hand and led him gently and silently out of the 
 room. 
 
 Meanwhile the old King of Borva had been spending a 
 somewhat anxious time down in the cabin of the Phoebe. 
 Many and many a day had he been planning a method by 
 which he might secure a meeting between Sheila and her 
 husband, and now it had all come about without his aid, and 
 in a manner which rendered him unable to take any precau- 
 tions. He did not know but that some awkward accident 
 might destroy all the chances of the affair. He knew that 
 Lavender was on the island. He had frankly asked young 
 Mosenberg as soon as Sheila had left the yacht. 
 
 "Oh, yes," the lad said, "he went away into the island 
 early this morning. I begged of him to go to your house; 
 he did not answer. But I am sure he will, I know he will," 
 
440 A PRINCESS OF THUEE. 
 
 " My Kott!" Mackenzie said, " and he has been wandering 
 about the island all the morning, and he will be very faint and 
 hungry, and a man is neffer in a good temper then for making 
 up a quarrel. If I had known the last night, I could hef had 
 dinner with you all here, and we should hef given him a good 
 glass of whisky, and then it wass a good time to tek him up 
 to the house." 
 
 " Oh, you may depend on it, Mr. Mackenzie," Johnny 
 Eyre said, " that Lavender needs no stimulus of that sort to 
 make him desire a reconciliation. No, I should think not. 
 He has done nothing but brood over this affair since ever he 
 left London ; and I should not be surprised if you scarcely 
 knew him, he is so altered. You would fancy he had lived 
 ten years in the time." 
 
 " Ay, ay," Mackenzie said, not listening very attentively, 
 and evidently thinking more of what might be happening 
 elsewhere; "but I was thinking, gentlemen, it wass time for 
 us to go ashore and go up to the house, and hef something to 
 eat." 
 
 " I thought you said one o'clock for luncheon, sir," young 
 Mosenberg said. 
 
 " One o'clock! " Mackenzie repeated, impatiently. " Who 
 the teffle can wait till one o'clock, if you hef been walking 
 about an island since the daylight, with nothing to eat or 
 drink." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie forgot that it was not Lavender he had 
 asked to lunch. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said, Sheila hass had plenty of time to 
 send down to Borvapost for some fish; and by the time you 
 get up to the house you will see that it is ready." 
 
 "Very well," Johnny said, "we can go up to the house, 
 anyway." 
 
 He went up the companion, and he had scarcely got 
 his head above the level of the bulwarks when he called 
 back, " I say Mr. Mackenzie, here is Lavender on the shore, 
 and your daughter is with him. Do they want to come on 
 board, do you think ? Or do they want us to go ashore?" 
 
 Mackenzie uttered a few phrases in Gaelic, and got up on 
 deck instantly. There, sure enough, was Sheila, with her 
 hand on her husband's arm, both looking toward the yacht. 
 The wind was blowing too strong for them to call. Mac- 
 kenzie wanted himself to pull in for them, but this was over- 
 ruled, and Pate was despatched, 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 44! 
 
 An awkward pause ensued. The three standing on deck 
 were sorely perplexed as to the forthcoming interview, and 
 as to what they should do. Were they to rejoice over a re- 
 conciliation, or ignore the fact altogether and simply treat 
 Sheila as Mrs. Lavender? Her father, indeed, fearing that 
 Sheila would be strangely excited, and would probably burst 
 into tears, wondered what he could get to scold her about. 
 
 Fortunately, an incident partly ludicrous broke the awk- 
 wardness of their arrival. The getting on deck was a matter 
 of some little difficulty ; in the scuffle Sheila's small hat, with 
 its snow-white feather, got unloosed somehow, and the next 
 minute it was whirled away by the wind into the sea. Pate 
 could not be sent after it just at the moment, and it was 
 rapidly drifting away to leeward, when Johnny Eyre, with a 
 laugh and a " Here goes!" plunged in after the white feather 
 that was dipping and rising in the waves hke a sea-gull. 
 Sheila uttered a slight cry, and caught her husband's arm. 
 But there was not much danger. Johnny was an expert 
 swimmer, and in a few minutes he was seen to be making 
 his way backward with one arm, while in the other hand he 
 held Sheila's hat. Then Pate had by this time got the small 
 boat around to leeward, and very shortly after Johnny, drip- 
 ping like a Newfoundland dog, came on deck and presented 
 the hat to Sheila, amidst a vast deal of laughter. 
 
 "lam so sorry," she said; "but you must change your 
 clothes quickly. I hope you will have no harm from it." 
 
 " Nat I," he said; "but my beautiful white decks have 
 got rather into a mess. I am glad you saw them while they 
 were dry, Mrs. Lavender. Now I am going below to make 
 myself a swell, for we're all going to have luncheon on shore, 
 ain't we?" 
 
 Johnny went below very well pleased with himself. He 
 had called her Mrs. Lavender without wincing. He had 
 got over all the awkwardness of a second introduction 
 by the happy notion of plunging after the hat. He had to 
 confess, however, that the temperature of the sea was not 
 just what he would have preferred for a morning bath. 
 
 By and by he made his appearance in his best suit of blue 
 and brass buttons, and asked Mrs. Lavender if she would 
 now come down and see the cabin. 
 
 " I think you want a good glass of whisky," old Mackenzie 
 said, as they all went below j " the water it is ferry cold just 
 now," 
 
442 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " Yes,** Johnny said, blushing, "we shall all celebrate the 
 capture of the hat." 
 
 It was the capture of the hat, then, that was to be cele- 
 brated by this friendly ceremony. Perhaps it was, but there 
 was no mirth now on Sheila's face. 
 
 " And you will drink first, Sheila," her father said, almost 
 solemnly, "and you will drink to your husband's health." 
 
 Sheila took the glass of raw whisky in her hand, and 
 looked around timidly. " I cannot drink this, papa," she 
 said. tl If you will let me " 
 
 "You will drink that glass to your husband's health, Sheila," 
 old Mackenzie said, with unusual severity. 
 
 " She shall do nothing of the sort if she doesn't like it?" 
 Johnny Eyre cried, suddenly, not caring whether it was the 
 wrath of old Mackenzie or of the devil that he was braving ; and 
 forthwith he took the glass out of Skeila's hand and threw 
 the whisky on the floor, Then he pulled out a champagne 
 bottle from a basket and said, "This is what Mrs. Lavender 
 will drink." 
 
 Mackenzie looked staggered for a moment; he had never 
 been so braved before. But he was not in a quarrelsome 
 mood on such an occasion ; so he burst into a loud laugh 
 and cried, " Well, did ever any man see the like o' that ? 
 Good whisky ferry good whisky and flung on the floor 
 as if it was water, and as if there wass no one in the boat that 
 would hef drunk it! But no matter, Mr. Eyre, no matter; 
 the lass will drink whatever you give her, for she's a good 
 lass; and if we have all to drink champagne, that is no mat- 
 ter, too, but there is a man or two up on deck that would not 
 like to know the whisky was spoiled." 
 
 " Oh," Johnny said, "there is still a drop left for them. 
 And this is what you must drink, Mrs. Lavender." 
 
 Lavender had sat down in a corner of the cabin, his eyes 
 averted. When he heard Sheila's name mentioned he looked 
 up, and she came forward to him. She said in her simple 
 way, " I drink this to you, my dear husband;" and at the 
 same moment the old King of Borva came forward and held 
 out his hand, and said, " Yes, and by Kott, I drink to your 
 health, too, with ferry good will !" 
 
 Lavender started to his feet. " Wait a bU, Mr. Macken- 
 zie. 1 have got something to say to you before you ought 
 to shake my hand," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 443 
 
 But Sheila interposed quickly. She put her hand on his 
 arm and looked into his face. " You will keep your promise 
 to me," she said; and that was an end of the matter. The 
 two men shook hands; there was nothing said between them, 
 then or again, of what was over and gone. 
 
 They had a pleasant enough luncheon together, up in that 
 quaint room with the Tyrolese pictures on the wall, and Dun- 
 can for once respected old Mackenzie's threats as to what 
 would happen if he called Sheila anything but Mrs. Lavender 
 before these strangers. For some time Lavender sat almost 
 silent, and answered Sheila, who continuously talked to him. 
 in tittle else than monosyllables. But he looked at her a great 
 deal, sometimes in a wistful sort of way, as if he were trying 
 to recall the various fancies her face used to produce in his 
 imagination. 
 
 " Why do you look at me so ?" she said to him in an under- 
 tone. 
 
 " Because I have made a new friend," he said. 
 But when Mackenzie began to talk of the wonders of the 
 island and the seas around it and to beg the young yachts- 
 men to prolong their stay, Lavender joined with a will in that 
 conversation, and added his entreaties. 
 
 " Then you are going to stay?" Johnny Eyre said, looking 
 up. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he answered, as if the alternative of going 
 back with them had not presented itself to him. " For one 
 thing, I have got to look out for a place where I can build a 
 house. That is what I mean to do with my savings just at 
 present; and if you would come with me, Johjiny, and have 
 a prowl around the island to find out some pretty little bay 
 with a good anchorage in it for you know I am going to 
 steal that Maighdean-mhara from Mr. Mackenzie then we 
 can begin and make ourselves architects, and plan oat the 
 place that is to be. And then some day " 
 
 Mackenzie had been sitting in mute astonishment, but he 
 suddenly broke in upon his son-in-law. " On this island t 
 No, by Kott, you will not do that! On this island? And 
 with all the people at Stornoway? Hoots, no! that will 
 neffer do. Sheila she has no one to speak to on this island, 
 as a young lass should hef; and you, what would you do 
 yourself in the bad weather? But there is Stornoway. Oh, 
 yes, that is a fine big place, and many people you will get to 
 
444 A PRINCESS OF 
 
 know there, and you will hef the newspapers and the letters 
 at once: and there will be always boats there that you can go 
 to Oban, to Greenock, to Glasgow anywhere in the world 
 whenever you hef a mind to do that; and then when you go 
 to London, as you will hef to go many times, there will be 
 plenty thereto look after your house when it is shut up, and 
 keep the rain out, and the paint and the paper good, more 
 as could be done on this island. On this island! how would 
 you live on this island?" 
 
 The old King of Borva spoke quite impatiently and con- 
 temptuously of the place. You would have thought his life 
 on this island was a species of penal servitude, and that he 
 dwelt in his solitary house only to think with a vain longing 
 of the glories and delights of Stornoway. Lavender knew 
 well what prompted these scornful comments on Borva. 
 The old man was afraid that the island would really be too 
 dull for Sheila and her husband, and that, whereas the easy 
 compromise of Stornoway might be practicable, to set up 
 house in Borva might lead them to abandon the North alto- 
 gether. 
 
 " From what I have heard of it from Mr. Lavender," 
 Johnny said with a laugh, " I don't think this island such a 
 dreadful place; and I'm hanged if I have found it so, so far." 
 
 " But you will know nothing about it nothing whatever," 
 said Mackenzie petulantly. "You do not know the bad 
 weather, when you cannot go down the loch to Callernish, 
 and you might have to go to London just then." 
 
 "Well, I suppose London could wait," Johnny said. 
 
 Mackenzie .began to get angry with this young man. 
 " You hef not been to Stornoway," he said, severely. 
 
 "No, I haven't," Johnny replied with much coolness, 
 "and I don't hanker after it. I get plenty of town life in 
 London ; and when I come up to the sea and the islands, 
 I'd rather pitch my tent with you, sir, than live in Stornoway." 
 
 " Oh, but you don't know, Johnny, how fine a place Stor- 
 noway is," Lavender said, hastily, for he saw the old man 
 was beginning to get vexed. " Stornoway is a beautiful little 
 town, and it is on the sea, too." 
 
 " And it hass fine houses, and ferry many people, and 
 ferry good society whatever," Mackenzie added with some 
 touch of indignation. 
 
 "But you see, this is how it siands, Mr. Mackenzie," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 445 
 
 .Lavender put in humbly. " We should have to go to Lon 
 don from time to time, and we should then get quite enough 
 of city life, and you might find an occasional trip with us 
 not a bad thing. But up here I should have to look onj 
 my house as a sort of workshop. Now, with all respect to! 
 Stornoway, you must admit that the coast about here is a 
 little more picturesque. Besides, there's another thing. 
 It would be rather more difficult at Stornoway to take a 
 rod or a gun out of a morning. Then there would be 
 caller?, bothering you at your work. Then Sheila would 
 have f; r less liberty in going about by herself." 
 
 " Eighthly and tenthly, you've made up your mind to have 
 a house here," cried Johnny Eyre, with a loud laugh. 
 
 " Sheila says she would like to have a billiard-room," her 
 husband continued. " Where could you get that in Storno- 
 way ?'' 
 
 " And you must have a large room for a piano, to sing in 
 and play in," the young Jew boy said, looking at Sheila. 
 
 " I should think a one-storied house, with a large veran- 
 dah, would be the best sort of thing," Lavender said, " both 
 for the sun and the rain; and then one could have one's easel 
 outside, you know. Suppose we all go for a walk around the 
 shore by-and-by. There is too much of a breeze to take the 
 Phoebe down the loch." 
 
 So the King of Borva was quietly overruled, and his domin- 
 ions invaded in spite of himself. Sheila could not go out 
 with the gentlemen just then ; she was to follow in about an 
 hour's time. Meanwhile they buttoned their coats, pulled 
 down their caps tight, and set out to face the grey skies and 
 the Wintry wind. Just as they were passing away from the 
 house, Mackenzie, who was walking in front with Lavender, 
 said in a cautious sort of way, "You will want a deal of 
 money to build this house you wass speaking about, for it 
 will hef to be all stone and iron, and very strong whatever, 
 or else it will be a plague to you from the one year to the next 
 with the rain getting in." 
 
 " Oh, yes," Lavender said, "it will have to be done well 
 once for all ; and what with rooms big enough to paint in 
 and play billiards in, and also a bedroom or two for friends 
 who may come to stay with us, it will be an expensive busi- 
 ness. But I have been very lucky, Mr. Mackenze. It isn't 
 the money I have, but the commissions I am offered. 
 
446 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 that warrant my going in for this house. I'll tell you about 
 all these things afterward. In the meantime I shall have 
 twenty-four hundred pounds, or thereabouts, in a couple of 
 months." 
 
 " But you hef more than that now," Mackenzie said, 
 gravely. " This is what I wass going to tell you. The 
 money that your aunt left, that is yours, every penny of it 
 oh, yes, every penny and every farthing of it is yours, sure 
 enough. For it wass Mr. Ingram hass told me all about it; 
 and the old lady, she wanted him to take care of the money 
 for Sheila; but what wass the good of the money to Sheila? 
 My lass, she will hef plenty of money of her own; and I 
 wanted her to hef nothing to do with what Mr. Ingram 
 said ; but it wass all no use, and there iss the money now for 
 you and for Sheila, every penny and every farthing of it." 
 
 Mackenzie ended by talking in an injured way, as if this 
 business had seriously increased his troubles. 
 
 "But you know," Lavender said, with amazement "you 
 know as well as I do that this money was definitely left to 
 Ingram, and you may believe me or not I was precious 
 glad of it when I heard it. Of course it would have been of 
 more use to him if he had not been about to marry this 
 American lady." 
 
 " Oh, you hef heard that, then?" Mackenzie said. 
 
 " Mosenberg brought me the news. But are you quite 
 sure about this affair? Don't you think this is merely a trick 
 of Ingram's to enable him to give the money to Sheila? 
 That would be very like him. I know him of old." 
 
 "Well, I cannot help it if a man will tell lies," said Mac- 
 kenzie. " But that is what he says is true. And he will not 
 touch the money indeed, he will hef plenty, as you say. 
 But there it is for Sheila and you, and you will be able to 
 build whatever house you like. And if you was thinking of 
 having a bigger boat than the Maighdean-mhara " the old 
 man suggested. 
 
 Lavender jumped at that notion directly. " What if we 
 could get a yacht big enough to cruise anywhere in the 
 Summer months ?"he said. " We might bring a party of peo- 
 ple all the way from the Thames to Loch Roag, and cast 
 anchor opposite Sheila's house. Fancy Ingram and his wife 
 coming up like that in the Autumn; and I know you could 
 go over to Sir James, and get us some shooting." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 447 
 
 Mackenzie laughed grimly: "We will see we will see 
 about that. I think there will be no great difficulty about 
 getting a deer or two for you, and as for the salmon, there 
 will be one or two left in the White Water. Oh yes, we will 
 have a little shooting and a little fishing for any of your 
 friends. And a; for the boat, it will be ferry difficult to get 
 a good big boat for such a purpose without you was planning 
 and building one yourself; and that will be better, I think, 
 for the yachts nowadays they are all built for the racing, 
 and you will have a beat fifty tons, sixty tons, seventy tons, 
 that hass no room in her below, but is nothing but a big heap 
 of canvas and spars, But if you was wanting a good, steady 
 boat, with good cabins below for the leddies, and a good 
 saloon that you could have your dinner in all at once, then 
 you will maybe come down with me to a shipbuilder I know 
 in Glasgow oh, he is a ferry good man and we will see 
 what can be done. There is a gentleman now in Dunoon 
 and they say he is a ferry great artist, too and he hass a 
 schooner of sixty tons that I hef been in myself, and it wass 
 just like a steamer below for the comfort of it. And when 
 tin. boat is ready I will get you ferry good sailors for her, 
 t :*at will know every bit of the coast from Loch Indaal to 
 ;\ie Butt of Lewis, and I will see that they are ferry cheap 
 for you, for I hef plenty of work for them in the Winter. But 
 I was no saying yet," the old man added, "that you were 
 right about coming to live in Borva. Stornoway is a good 
 place to live in ; and it is a fine harbor for repairs, if the boat 
 was wanting repairs." 
 
 "If she were, couldn't we send her around to Stornoway?" 
 
 " But the people in Stornoway it iss the people in Storno- 
 way," said Mackenzie, who was not going to give in without 
 a grumble. 
 
 Well, they did not fix on a site for the house that afternoon. 
 Sheila did not make her appearance. Lavender kept con- 
 tinually turning and looking over the long undulations of 
 rock and moorland; and at length he said, "Look here, 
 Johnny, would you mind going on by yourselves ? I think I 
 shall walk back to the house." 
 
 " What is keeping that foolish girl?" her father said, im- 
 patiently. "It is something about the dinner now, as if any 
 one was particular about a dinner in an island like this, where 
 you can expect nothing. But at Stornoway oh, yes, they hef 
 many things there,'' 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 " But I want you to come and dine with us on board the 
 Phoebe to-night, sir," Johnny said. " It will be rather a lark, 
 mind you; we make up a tight fit in that cabin. I wonder 
 if Mrs Lavender would venture; do you think she would, 
 sir?" 
 
 "Oh, no, not this evening, anyway, "said her father; " for 
 I know she will expect you all to be up at the house this even* 
 ing; and what would be the use of tumbling about in the 
 bay when you can be in a house? But it is very kind of you. 
 Oh, yes, to-morrow night, then, we will go down to the boat, 
 but this night I know Sheila will be ferry sorry if you do not 
 come to the house." 
 
 " Well, let's go back now," Johnny said, " and if we've 
 time we might go down for our guns and have a try along 
 the shore for an hour or so before the daylight goes. Fancy 
 that chance at those wild duck!" 
 
 " Oh, but that is nothing," Mackenzie said. "To-morrow 
 you will come with me up to the loch, and there you will hef 
 some shooting; and in many other places I will show you 
 you will hef plenty of shooting." 
 
 They had just got back to the house when they found Sheila 
 coming out. She had, as her father supposed, been detained 
 by her preparations for entertaining their guests; but now 
 she was free until dinner-time, and so the whole party went 
 down to the shore to pay a visit to the Phoebe and let Mac- 
 kenzie have a look at the guns on board. Then they went 
 up to the house, and found the tall and grim keeper with the 
 baby in his arms, while Scarlett and Mairi were putting the 
 (finishing touches on the gleaming white table and its show of 
 steel and crystal. 
 
 How strange it was to Sheila to sit at dinner there, and 
 listen to her husband talking of boating and fishing and what 
 not as he used to sit and talk in the olden time to her father, 
 on the Summer evenings, on the high rocks over Borvapost! 
 The interval between that time and this seemed to go clean 
 out of her mind. And yet there must have been some inter- 
 val, for he was looking older and sterner and much 
 rougher about the face now, after being buffeted about by 
 wind and rain and sun during that long and solitary stay in 
 Jura. But it was very like the old times when they went into 
 the little drawing-room, and when Mairi brought in the hot 
 water and the whisky, the tobacco and the long pipes, when 
 the old King of Bqrva sat himself down in his great chair by 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 449 
 
 the table, and when Lavender came to Sheila and asked her 
 if he should get out her music and open the piano for her. 
 
 "Madam,'' young Mosenberg said to her, "it is a long 
 time since I heard one of your strange Gaelic songs." " 
 
 "Perhaps you never heard this one," Sheila said, and she 
 began to sing the plaintive " Farewell to Glenshalloch." 
 Many a time, indeed, of late had she sung its simple and pa- 
 thetic air as a sort of lullaby, perhaps because it was gentle, 
 monotonous and melancholy, perhaps because there were lines 
 here and there that she liked. Many a time had she sung 
 
 Sleep sound, my sweet babe, there is naught to alarm the*, 
 The sons of the valley no power have to harm thee, 
 I'll sing thee to rest in the balloch untrodden, 
 With a coronach sad for the slain of Culloden. 
 
 But long before she had reached the end of it her father's 
 patience gave way, and he said, " Sheila, we will hef no more 
 of those teffles of songs! We will hef a good song; and 
 there is more than one of the gentlemen can sing a good 
 song, and we do not wish to be always crying over the sor- 
 rows of other people. Now be a good lass, Sheila, and sing 
 us a good cheerful song." 
 
 And Sheila, with great good nature, suddenly struck a 
 different key, and sang with a spirit that delighted the old 
 . man. 
 
 The standard on the braes o' Mar 
 
 Is up and streaming rarely; 
 The gathering pipe on Lochnagar 
 
 Is sounding lang and clearly; 
 The Highlandmen from hill and glen, 
 In martial hue, with bonnets blue, 
 Wi' belted plaids and burnished blades, 
 
 Are coming late and early. 
 
 " Now, that is a better kind of song that is a teffle of a 
 good song," Mackenzie cried, keeping time to the music with 
 his right foot, as if he were a piper playing in front of his 
 regiment. " Wass there anything like that in your country, 
 Mr. Mosenberg?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir," said the lad meekly, " but if you like, 
 I will sing you one of our soldiers' songs. They have plenty 
 of fire in them, I think." 
 
 Certainly, Mackenzie had plenty of brilliant and cheerful 
 and stirring music that evening, but that which pleased him 
 most, doubtless, was to see. as all the world could see, the 
 happiness of his good lass. Sheila, proud and glad, with a 
 light on her face that had not been there for many a day, 
 wanted to do everything at once to please and amuse hey 
 
45 
 
 A PRINCESS. OF THULE. 
 
 guests, and most of all to wait upon her husband ; and 
 ender was so abashed by her sweet service and her simple 
 ways that he could show his gratitude only by some furtive 
 and kindly touch of the hand as Sheila passed. 
 
 It seenced to him she had never looked so beautiful, and 
 never, indeed since they left Stornoway together had he 
 heard her quiet, low laugh so full of enjoyment. What had 
 he done, he asked himself, to deserve her confidence, 
 for it was the hope in her proud and gentle eyes that gave 
 that radiant brightness to her face. He did not know. He 
 could not answer. Perhaps the foregiveness she had so 
 freely and frankly tendered, and the confidence she now 
 so clearly showed in him, sprang from no judgment or argu- 
 ment, but were only the natural fruit of an abounding 
 and generous love. More than once that night he wished 
 that Sheila could read the next half-dozen years as though 
 in some prophetic scroll, that he might show her how he 
 would endeavor to prove himself, iT not unworthy for he 
 could scarcely hope that at least conscious of her great 
 and unselfish affection, and as grateful for it as a man could be. 
 
 They pushed their enjoyment to such a late hour of the 
 night that when they discovered what time it was, Mac- 
 kenzie would not allow one of them to venture out into the 
 dark to find the path down to the yacht, and Duncan and- 
 Scarlett were forthwith called on to provide the belated 
 guests with some more or less haphazard sleeping accommo- 
 dation. 
 
 "Mr. Mackenzie," said Johnny, "I don't mind a bit if I 
 sleep on the floor. I've just had the jolliest night I ever 
 spent in my life. Mosenberg, you'll have to take the Phoebe 
 back to Greenock by yourself; I shall never leave Borva any 
 more." 
 
 "You will be sober in the morning, Mr. Eyre," young 
 Mosenberg said; but the remark was unjust, for Johnny's en- 
 thusiasm had not been produced by the old king's whisky. 
 potent as that was. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 
 
 "I SHOULD like," said Mrs. Edward Ingram, sitting down 
 and contentedly folding her hands in her lap " I should so 
 much like, Edward, to have my own way for once, it would 
 be so novel and sp nice," 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 45! 
 
 Her husband was busy with a whole lot of plans all stretched 
 out before him, and with a pipe which he had some difficulty 
 in keeping alight. He did not even turn around as he an- 
 swered. " You have your own way always. But you can't 
 expect to have mine also, you know." 
 
 "Do you remember," she said, slowly, "anything your 
 friend Sheila told you about your rudeness to people? I 
 wish, Edward, you would leave those ragged children and 
 their school-houses for three minutes. Do ! I so much want 
 to see some places when we go to Scotland, for who knowr 
 when we may be there again? I have set my heart on the 
 Braes of Yarrow. And Loch Awe by moonlight. And the 
 Pass of Glencoe " 
 
 " My dear child," he said at last, turning around in his 
 chair, " how can we go to those places ? Sheila says Oban 
 on the fifteenth." 
 
 " But what Sheila says isn't an Act of Parliament," said 
 the young American lady, plaintively and patiently. " Why 
 should you regulate all your movements by her ? You are 
 always looking to the North: you are like the spires of the 
 churches that are said to be always telling us that Heaver, u 
 close by the Pole Star." 
 
 " The information is inaccurate, my dear," Ingram said, 
 looking at his pipe, " for the spires of the churches on the 
 other side of the world point the other way. However, that 
 does not matter. How do you propose to go rampaging all 
 over Scotland, and still be at Oban on the fifteenth ?" 
 
 "Telegraph to Mr. and Mrs. Lavender to come on to 
 Edinburgh, and leave the trip to Lev/is until we have 
 seen those places. For, once we have got to that wild 
 island, who knows when we shall return ? Now, do, like a 
 ' good boy. You know this new house of theirs will be all the 1 
 drier in a month's time. And their yacht will be all the' 
 more ship-shape. And both Sheila and her husband will be 
 the better for coming down among civilized folks for a week's 
 time especially just now, when numbers of their friends 
 must be in the Highlands; and, of course, yor. get better at- 
 tention at the hotels when the season is going on, and they 
 have every preparation made; and I am told the heather and 
 fern on the hills look very fine in August ; and I am sure 
 Mr. and. Mrs. Lavender will enjoy it very much if we get a 
 carriage somewhere and ie^ve the railways altogether, and 
 drive by ourselves all through the prettiest districts.'' 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 She wished to see the effect of her eloquence on him. It 
 was peculiar. He put his pipe down and gravely repeated 
 these lines, with which she was abundantly familiar: 
 
 " Sez vather to I, * Jack, rin arter him, du I ' 
 Sez I to vather, ' I'm darned if I du ! ' " 
 
 " You won't ? " she said. 
 
 "The proposal comes too late. How can you expect 
 Sheila to leave her new house, and that boy of hers, that oc- 
 cupies three-fourths of her letters, just at this time. I think 
 it was very kind of her, mind you, to come away down to 
 Oban to meet u ? and Lavender, too, is giving up the time 
 out of the best working season of the year. Bless you! you 
 will see far more beautiful things as we go from Oban to 
 Lewis than any you have mentioned. For we shall probably 
 cut down by Scarba and Jura before going up to Skye; and 
 then you will see the coast that you admired so much in Lav- 
 ender's pictures." 
 
 " Is the yacht a large one, Edward?" his wife asked, some- 
 what timidly. 
 
 " Oh, big enough to take our party a dozen times over." 
 
 " Will she tumble about much, do you think ?" 
 
 " I don't know," Ingram said,withan unkindly grin. "But 
 as you are a weak vessel, Lavender will watch the weather 
 for you, and give it you as smooth as possible. Besides, look 
 at the cleanliness and comfort of a smart yacht! You are 
 thinking of one of those Channel steamers, with their engines 
 and oil." 
 
 " Let us hope for the best," said his wife, with a sigh. 
 
 They not only hoped for it, but got it. When they left 
 the Crinan and got on board the big steamer that was to 
 take them up to Oban, all around them lay a sea of soft and 
 shining blue, scarcely marred by a ripple. Here and there 
 sharp crags that rose out of the luminous plain seemed al- 
 most black, but the farther islands lay soft and hazy in the 
 heat, with the beautiful colors of August tinting the great 
 masses of rock. As they steamed northward through the 
 shining sea, new islands and new channels appeared until 
 they came in sight of the open Atlantic, and that, too, was 
 as calm and as still as a summer night. There was no white 
 cloud in the blue vault of the sky, there was no crisp curl 
 of a wave on the blue plain of the sea, but everywhere a 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 453 
 
 clear, radiant, salt-smelling atmosphere, the drowsy haze of 
 which was only visible when you looked at the distant islands 
 and saw the fine and pearly vail of heat that was drawn over 
 the soft colors of the hills. The sea-birds dipped and dis- 
 appeared as the big boat churned its way onward. A white 
 solan, far away by the shores of Mull, struck the water as he 
 dived, and sent a jet of spray into the air. Colonsay and 
 Oronsay became as faint clouds on the Southern horizon, the 
 jagged coast of Lome drew near. And then they went up 
 through the Sound of Kerrara and steamed into the 
 broad and beautiful bay of Oban, and behold! here 
 was Sheila on the pier, already waving a handkerchief 
 to them, while her husband held her arm, lest in her excite- 
 ment she should go too near the edge of the quay. 
 
 "And where is the boat that we have heard so much of?" 
 said Mrs. Kavanagh, when all the kissing and handshaking 
 was over. 
 
 " There !" said Sheila, not without some shamefaced pride, 
 pointing to a shapely schooner that lay out in the bay, with 
 her white decks and tall spars shining in the afternoon sun. 
 
 "And what do you call her?" asked Mrs. Kavanagh's 
 daughter. 
 
 "We call her Princess Sheila? said Lavender. "What 
 do you think of the name ?" 
 
 " You couldn't have got a better," Ingram said, senten- 
 tiously, and interposing as if it was not within his wife's 
 province to form an opinion of any sort. " And where is 
 your father, Sheila ? In Borva ?" 
 
 'Oh, no, he is here," the girl said, with a smile. "But 
 the truth is, he has driven away to see some gentlemen he 
 knows, to ask if he can have some grouse for you. He 
 should have been back by this time." 
 
 "I would not hurry him, Sheila," Ingram said, gravely. 
 " He could not have gone on a more admirable errand. We 
 must await his return with composure. In the meantime^ 
 Lavender, do make your fellows stop that man; he is 
 taking away my wife's trunk to some hotel or other." 
 
 The business of getting the luggage on board the yacht 
 was entrusted to a couple of men whom Lavender left on 
 shore, whereupon the newly-arrived travelers put off in a lit- 
 tle pinnace and were conveyed to the side of the handsome 
 schooner. When they were on board an eager exploration 
 followed; and if Sheila could only have undertaken to vouch 
 
454 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 for the smoothness of the water for the next month, Mrs. 
 Ingram was ready to declare that at last she had discovered 
 the most charming and beautiful and picturesque fashion of 
 living known to civilized man. She was delighted with the 
 little elegancies of the state-rooms; she was delighted with 
 the paintings on the under skylights, which had been done 
 by Lavender's own hand ; she was delighted with the white- 
 ness of the decks and the height of the tapering spars; and 
 she had no words for her admiration of the beautiful sweep 
 of the bay, the striking ruins of the old castle at the point, 
 the rugged hills rising behind the white houses, and out there 
 in the West the noble panorama of mountain and island 
 and sea. 
 
 "lam afraid, Mrs. Ingram," Lavender said, "you will 
 have cause to know Oban before we leave it. There is not 
 a breath of wind to take us out of the bay." 
 
 " I am content/' she said, "with a gracious calm." 
 
 11 But we must get you up to Borva, somehow. There it 
 would not matter how long you were becalmed, for there is 
 plenty to see about the island. But this is a trifle common^ 
 place, you know." 
 
 " I don't think so at all. I am delighted with the place," 
 she said. "And so are you, Edward." 
 
 Ingram laughed. He knew she was daring him to contra- 
 dict her. He proposed he should go ashore and buy a few 
 lines witn whicn they might fish for young saithe or 
 lythe over the side of the yacht, but this project was stopped 
 by the appearance of the King of Borva, who bore trium- 
 phant proof of the success of his mission in a brace of 
 grouse held up in each hand as a small boat brought him 
 out to the yacht. 
 
 " And I was seeing Mr. Hutcheson," Mackenzie said to 
 Lavender,as he stepped on board, "and he is a ferry good- 
 natured man whatever, and he says if there is no wind at 
 all he will let one of his steamers take the yacht up to 
 Loch Sunart, and if there is a breeze at all we will get it 
 there." 
 
 "But why should we go in quest of a breeze?" Mrs. In- 
 grarn said, petulantly. 
 
 " Why, mem," said Mackenzie, taking the matter se- 
 riomly, " you was not thinking we could sail a boat without 
 wind ? But I am no sure that there will not be a breeze 
 before night." 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 455 
 
 Mackenzie was right. As the evening wore on and the sun 
 drooped in the West, the aspect of affairs changed some- 
 what, and there was now and again a sort of shiver apparent 
 on the surface of the lake-like bay, When, indeed, the peo- 
 ple on board came up on deck, just before dinner they found 
 a rather thunderous-looking sunset spreading over the sky. 
 Into the clear saffron glory of the Western sky some dark 
 and massive purple clouds had risen. The mountains of 
 Mull had grown light and milk-like, and yet they seemed 
 near. The glass-like bay began to move, and the black 
 shadow of a ship that lay on the gleaming yellow plain began 
 to tremble as the water cut lines of light across the reflection 
 of the masts. You could hear voices afar off. Under the 
 ruins of the castle and along the curves of the coast the 
 shadows of the water were a pure green, and the rocks were 
 growing still more sharp and distinct in the gathering dusk. 
 There was a cold smell of the sea in the air. And then 
 swiftly the pale colors of the West waxed lurid and fierce, 
 the mountains became of a glowing purple, and then all the 
 plain of the sea was dashed with a wild glare of crimson, 
 while the walls of Dunolly grew black, and overhead the 
 first scouts of the marshaling forces of the clouds came up in 
 flying shreds of gold and fire. 
 
 "Oh, ay, we may hef a breeze the night," Mackenzie said. 
 
 " I hope we shan't have a storm," Mrs. Ingram said. 
 
 " A storm ? Oh, no ; no storm at all. It will be a ferry 
 good thing if the wind lasts till the morning." 
 
 Mackenzie was not at all sure that there would be storm 
 enough, and went down to dinner grumbling over the fine- 
 ness of the weather. Indeed, when they came on deck again 
 later on in the night, even the slight breeze that he had hoped 
 for seemed impossible. The night was perfectly still. A few 
 stars had come out overhead, and their light scarcely trem- 
 bled on the smooth waters of the bay. A cold, fresh scent 
 of seaweed was about, but no wind. 1 he orange lights in 
 Oban burned pale and clear, the red and green lamps of the 
 steamers and yachts in the bay did not move. And when 
 Mrs. Ingram came up to take Sheila forward to the bow of 
 the boat, to sit down there to have a confidential talk with 
 her> a clear and golden moon was rising over the sharp black 
 ridge of Kerrara into the still and beautiful skies, and there 
 was not a ripple of the water along the sides of the yacht to 
 break the wonderful silence of the night. 
 
45 & A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 "My dear," she said, "you have a beautiful place to live in." 
 
 " But we do not live here," Sheila said, with a smile. 
 " This is to me as far away from home as England can be to 
 you when you think of America. When I came here for the 
 first time I thought I had got into another world, and that I 
 should never be able to get back again to the Lewis. 
 
 "And is the island you live in mere beautiful than this 
 place?" she asked, looking around on the calm sea, the 
 lambent skies and the far mountains beyond, which were gray 
 and ghost-like in the pale glow of the moon. 
 
 " If you see our island on such a night as this, you will say 
 it is the most beautiful place in the world. It is the Winter- 
 time that is bad, when we have rain and mist for weeks 
 together. But after this year I think we shall spend all the 
 Winters in London, although my husband does not like to 
 give up the shooting and boating; and that is very good 
 amusement for him when he is tired with his work." 
 
 " That island life certainly seems to agree with him," said 
 Mrs. Ingram, not daring even to hint that there was any 
 further improvement in Sheila's husband than that of mere 
 health: " I have never seen him look -so well and strong. I 
 scarcely recognized him on the pier, he was so brown ; and 
 and and I think his sailor clothes suit him so well. They 
 are a little rough, you know; indeed, I have been wondering 
 whether you made them yourself.'' 
 
 Sheila laughed: "I have seen you look at them. No, 1 
 did not make them. But the cloth, that was made on the 
 Island, and it is very good cloth whatever." 
 
 " You see what a bad imitation of your costume I am conv 
 pelled to wear. Edward would have it, you know. I think 
 he'd like me to speak like you, if I could manage it." 
 
 " Oh, no, I am sure he would not like that," Sheila said, 
 "for many a time he used to correct me; and when he first 
 came to the island I was very much ashamed, and sometimes 
 angry with him." 
 
 " But I suppose you got accustomed to his putting every- 
 body right ?" said Mr. Ingram's wife, with a smile. 
 
 " He was always a very good friend to me," Sheila said, 
 simply. 
 
 " Yes, and I think he is now," said her companion, taking 
 the girl's hand and forcing herself to say something of thai" 
 which lay at her heart, and which had been struggling for 
 utterance during all this beating about the bush. " I am sure 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 45'; 
 
 you could nc>t have a better friend than he is; and if you 
 only knew hew pleased we both are to find you so well and 
 50 happy" 
 
 Sheila saw the great embarrassment in her companion's 
 face, and she knew the good feeling that had driven her to 
 this stammering confession. " It is very kind of you," 
 she said, gently. "I am very happy; yes, I do not think I 
 have anything more to wish for in the world." 
 
 There was no embarassment in her manner as she made 
 this simple avowal, her face was clear and cairn in the moon- 
 light, and her eyes were looking somewhat distantly at the sea 
 and the island near. Her husband came forward with alight 
 shawl and put it around her shoulders. She took his hand 
 and for a moment pressed it to her lips. Then he went back 
 to where Ingram and old Mackenzie were smoking, and the 
 two women were left to their confidences. Mrs. Kavanagh 
 had gone below. 
 
 What was this great noise next morning of the rattling of 
 chains and the napping of canvas overhead? There was a 
 slight motion in the boat and a plashing of water around her 
 sides. Was the Princess Sheila getting under weigh ? 
 
 The various noises ceased, so also did the rolling of the 
 vessel, and apparently all was silent and motionless again. 
 But when the ladies had dressed and got up on deck, behold 
 they were in a new world ! All around them were the blue 
 waters of Loch Linnhe, lit up by the brilliant sunshine of 
 the morning. A light breeze was just filling the great white 
 sails, and the yacht, heeling over slightly, was cutting her 
 placid way through the lapping waves. How keen was the 
 fresh smell of the air ! Sea-gulls were swooping down and 
 around the tall masts; over there the green island of Lismore 
 lay bright in the sunshine ; the lonely hills of Morven and the 
 mountains of Mull had a thousand shades of color growing 
 on their massive shoulders and slopes ; the ruins of Duart 
 Castle, out at the point, seemed too fair and picturesque to 
 be associated with dark legends of blood. Were these faint 
 specks in the South the far islands of Colonsay and Oronsay? 
 Lavender brought his glass to Mrs. Ingram, and, with many 
 apologies to all the ladies for having woke them up so 
 soon, bade her watch the flight of two herons making in 
 for the mouth of Loch Etive. 
 
 They had postponed for the present that Southward trip 
 
458 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 to Jura. The glass was still rising, and the appearance of the 
 weather rendered it doubtful whether they might have wind 
 enough to make such a cruise anything but tedious. They 
 had taken advantage of the light breeze in the morning to 
 weigh anchor and stand across for the Sound of Mull ; if it 
 held out, they would at least reach Tobermony, and take 
 their last look at a town before rounding Ardnamurchan and 
 making for the wild solitudes of Skye. 
 
 "Well, Cis," Ingram said to his wife, as he busied himself 
 with a certain long fishing-line, " what do you think of the 
 Western Highlands?" 
 
 " Why did you not tell me of these places before ?" she 
 said, rather absently, for the mere height of the mountains 
 along the Sound of Mull the soft green woods leading up 
 to the great bare shoulders of purple and gray and brown 
 above seemed to draw away one's eyes and thoughts from 
 surrounding objects. 
 
 " I have often. But what is the use of telling?" 
 
 " It is the most wonderful place I have ever seen," she 
 said. " It is so beautiful and so desolate at the same time. 
 What lovely colors there are everywhere on the sea, and on 
 the shores there, and up the hills and everything is so 
 bright and gleaming! But no one seems to live here. I 
 suppose you couldn't; the loneliness of the mountains and 
 the sea would kill you." 
 
 "My dear child, these are town-bred fancies," he said, in 
 his usual calm and carelessly sententious manner. " If you 
 lived there, you would have plenty to do besides looking at 
 the hills and the sea. You would be glad of a fine day to 
 let you go out and get some fish or go up the hills and get 
 some blackcock for your dinner; and you would not get sad 
 by looking at fine colors, as towns-folk do. Do you think 
 Lavender and Sheila spend their time in mooning up in that 
 island of theirs? and that, I can tell you, is a trifle more 
 remote and wild than this is. They've got their work to 
 do, and when that is done they feel comfortable and se- 
 cure in a well-built house, and fairly pleased with themselves 
 that they have earned some rest and amusement. I dare 
 say if you built a cottage over there, and did noth- 
 ing but look at the sea and the hills and the sky at 
 night, you would very soon drown yourself. I suppose 
 if a man were to give himself up for three months to think- 
 ing of the first formation ,of the world, and the condition e>* 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 459 
 
 affairs before that happened, and the puzzle about how the 
 materials ever came to be there, he would grow mad. But 
 few people luckily have the chance of trying. They've got 
 their bread to earn: if they haven't, they're bent on killing 
 something or other foxes, grouse, deer, and what not and 
 they don't bother about the stars, or what lies just outside the 
 region of the stars. When I find myself getting miserable 
 about the size of a mountain, or the question as to how and 
 when it came there, I know that it is time to eat some- 
 thing. I think breakfast is ready, Cis. Do you think you 
 have the nerve to cut this hook out of my fingers ? and then 
 we can go below." 
 
 She gave a little scream and started up. Two drops ot 
 blood had fallen on Lavender's white decks. 
 
 " No, I see you can't," he said. " Open this knife, and I 
 will dig it out myself. Bless the girl! are you going to faint 
 because I have scratched my finger ?" 
 
 Lavender, however, had to be called in to help, and while 
 the surgical operation was going forward Mrs. Ingram said, 
 " You see we have got towns-folks' hands as yet. I suppose 
 they will get to be leather by and by I am sure I don't 
 know how Mrs. Lavender can do those things about a boat 
 with the tiny little hands she has." 
 
 " Yes, Sheila has small hands, hasn't she ?" Lavender said, 
 as he bound up his friend's finger; "but then she makes up 
 for that by the bigness of her heart." 
 
 It was a pretty and kindly speech, and it pleased Mrs In- 
 gram, though Sheila did not hear it. Then, when the doc- 
 toring was over, they all went below for breakfast, and an 
 odor of fish and ham and eggs and coffee prevailed through- 
 out the yacht. 
 
 "I have quite fallen in love with this manner of life," Mrs. 
 Ingram said. " But, tell me, is it always as pleasant as this ? 
 Do you always have those blue seas around you, and green 
 shores ? Are the sails always white in the sunlight ?" 
 
 There was a dead silence. 
 
 " Well, I would not say," Mackenzie observed seriously, as 
 no one else would take up the question " I would not say it is 
 always ferry good weather off this coast oh no, I would not say 
 that for if there was no rain, what would the cattle do, and 
 the streams ? they would not hef a pool left in them. Oh, 
 yes, there is rain sometimes, but you cannot always be sailing 
 >bout, and when there will be rain you will hef jour thicrf* 
 
460 A PRINCESS OF THULE. 
 
 to attend to in-doors. And there is always plenty of good 
 weather if you wass wanting to tek a trip around the islands 
 or down to Oban oh, yes, there is no fear of that; and it 
 will be a ferry good coast whatever for the harbor, and there 
 is always some placs you can put into if it wass coming on 
 rough, only you must know the coast and the lie of the islands 
 and the rocks about the harbors. And you wouij learn it 
 ferry soon. There is Sheila there; there is no one in the 
 Lewis will know more of the channels in Loch Roag than she 
 does not one, I can say that; and when you go farther 
 away, then you must tek some one with you who wass well 
 acquainted with the coast. If you wass thinking of having 
 a yacht, Mr. Ingram, there is one I hef heard of just now in 
 Rothesay that is for sale, and she is a ferry good boat, but 
 not so big as this one." 
 
 " I think we'll wait till my wife knows more about it, Mr. 
 Mackenzie," Ingram said. " Wait till she gets round Ardna- 
 murchan, and has crossed the Munch, and has got the fine 
 Atlantic swell as you run into Borvapost." 
 
 " Edward, you frighten me," his wife said: " I was begin 
 ning to give myself courage." 
 
 "But it is mere nonsense," cried Mackenzie, impatiently. 
 "Kott pless me! there is no chance of your being ill in this 
 fine weather; and if you had a boat of your own, you would 
 ferry soon get accustomed to the weather oh, ferry soon, 
 indeed and you would hef no more fear of the water than 
 Sheila has." 
 
 " Sheila has far too little fear of the water," her husband 
 said. 
 
 " Indeed, and that is true," said her father; "and it is 
 not right that a young lass should go about by herself in a 
 boat." 
 
 " But you know very well, papa, I never do that now.'' 
 
 "Oh, you do not do it now," grumbled Mackenzie. 
 " No, you do not do it now. But some day you will for- 
 get when there is something to be done, and you will run a 
 great danger, Sheila," 
 
 " But she has promised never to go out by herself, haven't 
 you, Sheila?" her husband said. 
 
 " I did; I promised that to you. And I have never been 
 out since by myself." 
 
 " Well, don't forget, Sheila," said her father, not very sure 
 
A PRINCESS OF THULE. 461 
 
 but that some sudden occasion might tempt the girl to her 
 old deeds of recklessness. 
 
 The two American ladies had little to fear. The 
 Hebrides received them with fair sunshine and smooth seas, 
 and all the day long their occupation was but to watch the 
 wild birds flyingr from island to island, and mark the gliding 
 by of tne beautiful coasts, and listen to the light rushing oi 
 the waves as the fresh sea-breeze flew through the rigging. 
 And Sheila was proud to teach them something of the mys- 
 tery of sailing a small craft, and would give them the tiller 
 sometimes, while her eye, as clear and keen as her father's, 
 kept watch and ward over the shapely vessel that was making 
 for the Northern seas. One evening she said to her friends, 
 " Do you see that point that runs out on this side of the 
 small island? Round that we enter Loch Roag." 
 
 The last pale light of the sun was shining along the houses 
 of Borvapost as the Princess Sheila passed. The people 
 there had made out the yacht long ere she came close to 
 land, and Mackenzie knew that twenty eager scouts would 
 fly to tell the news to Scarlett and Duncan, so that ample 
 preparation would be made in the newly-finished house down 
 by the sea. The wind, however, had almost died away, and 
 they were a long time getting into Loch Roag in this clear 
 twilight. They who were making their first visit to Sheila's 
 island sat contentedly enough on deck, however, amazed 
 and bewildered by the beauty of the scene around them. 
 For now the sun had long sunk, but there was a glow all over 
 the heavens, and only in the far East did the yellow stars 
 begin to glimmer over the dark plain of the loch. Mealasa- 
 bhal, Suainabhal, Cracabhal lifted their grand shoulders and 
 peaks into this wondrous sky, and stood dark and clear there, 
 with the silence of the sea around them. 
 
 As the night came on the yellow stars grew more intense 
 overhead, but the lambent glow in the North did not pale. 
 
 They entered a small bay. Up there on a plateau of 
 the rocks stood a long, low house, with all its windows 
 gleaming in the dusk. The pinnace was put off from the 
 yacht; in the strange silence of the night the ripples 
 plashed around her prow; her oars SJ.ruck fire in the 
 water as the men rowed into the land. And then, as 
 3heila's guests made their way up to the house, and when they 
 reached the verandah and turned to look at the sea and the 
 and the far mountains opposite, they beheld the dea* 
 
462 A PRINCESS OF THULfi. 
 
 and golden sickle of the moon rising from behind the black 
 outline of Suainabhal into the soft and violet skies. As the 
 yellow moon rose in the South a pathway of gold began to 
 tremble on Loch Roag, and they could see the white curve 
 of sand around the bay. The air was sweet with the 
 cold smell of the sea. There was a murmur of the far 
 Atlantic all around the silent coast. 
 
 It was the old familiar picture that had charmed the imagi- 
 nation of Sheila's first and only lover, when as yet she was to 
 him as some fair and wonderful princess living in a lonely 
 island and clothed around about with the glamor of old le- 
 gends and stories of the sea. Was she any longer this strange 
 sea-princess, with dreams in her eyes and the mystery of the 
 night and the stars written in her beautiful face ? Or was 
 she to him now, what all the world long ago perceived her to 
 be, a tender wife, a faithful companion and a true and loyal- 
 hearted woman? Sheila walked quietly into the house; 
 there was something there for her friends to see, and, with a 
 great pride and gentleness and gladness, Scarlett was des- 
 patched on a particular errand. The old King of Borva 
 was still down at the yacht, looking after the landing of cer- 
 tain small articles of luggage. Duncan had come forward to 
 Ingram and said, "And are you ferry well, sir?" and Mairi 
 come down from Mackenzie's house, had done the same 
 Then there was a wild squeal of the pipes in the long apart 
 ment where supper was laid, the unearthly gathering cry of 
 clan, until Sheila's husband dashed into the place and 
 threatened to throw John into the sea if he did not hold his 
 peace. John was offended, and would probably have gone 
 up the hillside and, in revenge, played " Mackrimmon shall 
 no more return," only that he knew the irate old King of 
 Borva would, in such a case, literally fulfill the threat that 
 had been lightly uttered by his son-in-law. In another room, 
 where two or three women were together, one of them sud- 
 denly took both of Sheila's hands in hers and said, with a 
 great look of kindness in her eyes, " My dear, I can believe 
 now what you told me that night at Oban." 
 
 THE END. 
 
MR. PISISTRATUS BROWN, M. P. 
 
 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF 
 A HOUSE-BOAT 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACK 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," "THE MONARCH OF MINCING LANE," 
 "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON," ETC. 
 
THE 
 
 WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AT FASSLIE FAKM. 
 
 DEEP and heavy the long-swelling surge of the North Sea thun- 
 dered along the Cromarty shore ; and high and shrill above that 
 reverberating plunge sang and whistled and shrieked a strenuous 
 wind, sweeping inland from the wide waste of waters ; but never- 
 theless there was not a cloud in the clear night sky ; the world 
 was tilled with a lambent white moonlight ; and far across the 
 silver-touched waves there was visible the dusky outline of the 
 opposite coast, by Fort George, and Nairn, and Findhorn, and 
 Burghead. 
 
 In a small and dimly lit room in a farm-house built high over 
 that wild sea, an old or, rather, elderly man was seated in front 
 of a massive iron chest, the top of which he was carefully scraping 
 with some kind of iron instrument. He was a man short of stat- 
 ure, but of powerful build ; his face hard set and tanned and 
 furrowed with wind and sun and rain ; his hair almost white, and 
 white also the bushy eyebrows set over a pair of remarkably pen- 
 etrating gray eyes. This man was Robert Graham, the tenant of 
 an extensive sheep farm ; and the huge iron coffer before him, 
 from which he was diligently scraping the last traces of whatever 
 paint might still be visible, had been at one time the military 
 chest of the garrison of Fort Augustus, from whence it had been 
 allowed to fall into private hands when the fort was dismantled. 
 But it was not the contents of this massive chest that seemed to 
 concern the farmer ; it was the few remaining touches of green. 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 paint here and there ; and to aid him in the searching removal of 
 these he had placed a solitary candle beside him, though, indeed, 
 as the coffer stood in the window-recess, there was almost enough 
 light coming in from the moonlit world without to enable him to 
 prosecute his task. 
 
 Now so still and hushed was this little room that, in spite of all 
 the wild roar of the wind and sea outside, the scratching of the 
 iron point was quite audible ; and not only that, but also certain 
 low mutterings with which from time to time the old man gave 
 expression to such fancies as crossed his brain. But these were 
 broken and detached, for sometimes he relapsed into silence, and 
 so it will be more convenient to put them down here consecutively 
 and in as plain language as possible*. 
 
 " I am not more superstitious than most ; but it's better to be 
 on the safe side. The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof ; 
 but He has permitted strange things to be in the world, and maybe 
 they have grown stronger than He intended, and can do more harm 
 now. It's better to be friendly with both sides ; and if there waa 
 a Sith-bruth* on Fasslie, it's not a man or boy on the place would 
 I allow to cut a twig or lift a stone there. It's live and let live ; 
 and if the little people bide in these knolls, it's not I that would 
 be for disturbing them ; even if they cannot harm a man, as some 
 say, maybe they can harm a sheep ay, or a score of sheep. . . 
 And were there no Grahams, now, among the soldiers of Fort 
 Augustus that they allowed this chest to be painted green ? Is 
 there a Graham alive that does not know what color it is that is 
 fatal to every one of the name ay, when it is even a common story 
 that never was a Graham shot in battle but it was found the bullet 
 had gone through the green check of the tartan ? And twice and 
 three times I stopped bidding for it ; until I said to myself : 
 What has been put on can be taken off, and what the knife will 
 not finish the turpentine will finish ; and where can the ill-luck 
 come from then ? The five great locks, and tricks, and contriv- 
 ances to outwit a regiment ; what prying eyes or fingers will get 
 to know about my business when I have everything shut up here ? 
 Alison may think what she likes ; the lass has grown saucy of late ; 
 
 * Sith-bruth A fairies' dwelling; generally a rocky mound, under whicn 
 toe fairies are supposed to live. 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 5 
 
 but this is no kind of cupboard or desk that she can try with hel 
 keys when I ain up on the hill. No, no, lass ; what I have toiled 
 and moiled for, that I mean to keep ; and there will be no need to 
 trust a bank in Inverness when I have a safeguard like this iron 
 chest. . . . But not a spot or streak of green not a spot or 
 streak. Who can tell where the ill-luck comes from ? Sometimes 
 it strikes at your blood a*d marrow; sometimes it's a bad lambing 
 season ; sometimes it's a bank that breaks. But I do my best to 
 keep well with both sides ; the minister has no fault to find with 
 me ; and if there are things that are stronger for good-luck or ill- 
 luck I do my best ay, even to keep from naming them. Maybe 
 that was why I got the warning that Jean Gillespie was to die 
 three taps on the window just half an hour before, and none hear- 
 ing them but myself. And the corpse-lights on Drumsinnon Moor 
 it's I would have ridden along with the factor into the bog but 
 for the lights and I cried to him but the cry he sent back was the 
 cry of a drowning man. But there are some that have seen more 
 than that, and have heard more than that ; and it's well to be 
 friends with them that can hurt whether they are below ground 
 or above ; ay, its better to say nothing, lest they should hear evil 
 spoken of them, and work mischief among the lambs, or bring 
 lightning about the house, as I have heard tell. Not since I was a 
 senseless lad have I shot a single hare just in case there might 
 be a mistake, and a witch or a warlock spring up from the ground ; 
 it's better to be on the safe side." 
 
 For the moment he seemed to have done with his scraping and 
 polishing ; at all events, he laid aside the knife and chisel he had 
 been using, and proceeded to open the chest. But this was a 
 serious undertaking, for not only had the big key to turn five 
 locks at once, but also there were bars and levers to be raised 
 simultaneously, demanding the exercise of a good deal of strength. 
 Eventually, however, the heavy lid yielded. He took both his 
 hands to raise it, and no doubt the next minute it would have 
 been resting against the wall or the window-sill but that there was 
 a sudden interruption that startled him. There was a brief, sharp 
 tapping, and the door of the room was thrown open. At the same 
 time the roar of the sea and the wind that seemed to fill the house 
 rushed into the little apartment, and a cold air made the candle 
 flame flicker. Robert Graham had not been expecting any such 
 
6 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 unceremonious visitor. He wheeled round in his chair ; the lid 
 of the chest slipped from his hand and shut with an alarming noise 
 all the five locks and levers clanging at once ; and then he found 
 standing before him the stranger who had made this sudden 
 entrance. 
 
 And yet this was neither ghost nor wizard that confronted him. 
 On the contrary, the new-comer was a good-looking young fellow 
 of six-and-twenty or so, with frank eyes, close-cropped raven-black 
 hair, and an expression of features that in ordinary circumstances 
 might have been pleasant and friendly enough, but was now some- 
 what embarrassed by uncertainty. Obviously he was a sailor, but 
 the smartness of his costume showed that he was not an ordinary 
 hand. In point of fact, he was mate of a trading schooner then 
 lying at Nairn ; his name, Alec Jameson. 
 
 "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Graham," he began, with some 
 hesitation. 
 
 "But ye do interrupt me," the other said sharply; and he 
 scowled at the younger man from under the bushy white eyebrows. 
 " Ye do inteiTupt me. Think ye I have naething to do wi' my 
 time ? I'm not a gentleman that can loiter about wi' my hands 
 in my pockets, hindering other folk and coming where he's not 
 wanted. Ma certes, there's some that canna take a hint to leave 
 until they feel a horsewhip curling round their calves." 
 
 There was a flash of fire in the young sailor's eye, but he strove 
 to remain calm and even courteous. 
 
 "If it's me you mean, Mr. Graham," said he quietly, "yon 
 may rest content that there's not a man in this country-side will 
 lay either hand or horsewhip on me. But let that pass " 
 
 " What do ye want ?" the old farmer said, abruptly. "Time's 
 money." 
 
 "Well, I'm off for Inverness to-morrow morning " 
 
 "Ye're welcome." 
 
 But Jameson seemed determined to be civil, if that were pos- 
 sible. 
 
 " And Alison," he continued, " was asking if you and I cannot 
 manage to part a little better friends. The lass is sorry and no 
 wonder and if there's anything that I have done, if there's any- 
 thing wrong that can be put right " 
 
 " Let Alison mind her own business," was the instant rejoinder, 
 
TSE WISE WOMEN Of 1 INVERNESS. 7 
 
 " and I can mind mine ; and, what's more, neither Alison's busk 
 ness nor my business is any o' yours. So you're welcome to set 
 off for Inverness as soon as ever ye like." 
 
 " I did not wish to go without holding out my hand and seeing 
 if we cannot come to more peaceable terms," the young sailor 
 said. " It's a fair offer, anyway. It must be a hard thing for a 
 young lass to be in a position like that, troubling herself that the 
 only friends she has should be separated by a quarrel. And a 
 quarrel about what ? for I'm sure it's not me that knows." 
 
 " Alison wants no friends but her own kith and kin ; that's enough 
 for her," the old man said. "Why should she take up wi' 
 strangers ? "What is she to gain by that ? Ay, it's not her gain, 
 it's theirs that's in question. Ay, ay, the old man may be an old 
 man, and still see clear enough. It's young eyes that are dazzled ; 
 it's young brains that are made a fool of ; and a silly crayture of a 
 lass will believe any smooth-spoken idle fellow that comes hanging 
 about her and speaking her fair. But I'll have none o' that in this 
 house, young man ; so you've fair warning in time. Alison was 
 left in my charge, and in my charge she'll bide. I'm for no inter- 
 lopers here. I'm for people minding their own business. In 
 trouble is she ? and what's that to you ? A pretty pack of non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 "Well, yes, Mr. Graham," the younger man said, civilly, "Ali- 
 son is in your charge at present, but she might not be always." 
 
 The deep-set gray eyes darted an evil glance at him, but he did 
 not seem to notice that. 
 
 " You know what both her and me have been looking forward 
 to," he continued, in the most pacific tone of voice, " and I am 
 sure it would be better for every one if there was a more friendly 
 feeling about it. And what is the objection ? If she leaves the 
 farm there's many another you could get to keep the house " 
 
 " And it's you that comes in to tell me what I maun do ! " the 
 old man said, glaring at him. "It's you that comes to me wi' 
 advice ? Let me tell ye, my lad, that I'm quite capable o' looking 
 after my own affairs, as ye'll find out if ye daur to meddle wi' them. 
 Ay, or wi' Alison's either. A clean pair o' heels ; that's the best 
 thing for you ; and if Fasslie never sees ye again Fasslie will be 
 none the worse." 
 
 There was sufficient discourtesy in the words ; there was more 
 
8 THE WISE WOtiEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 in the tone in which they were uttered ; and the younger man, 
 though he strove to keep cool, began to lose that timid look of 
 appeal that had been in his eyes. 
 
 " Well, it's a pity," he said. " Hard words will not mend mat- 
 ters ; and I had wished to leave Alison in happier spirits 
 
 " The leaving her is the best thing ye can do, and the sooner 
 the better. Have I not bid ye never darken my door again ? God 
 bless me, is a man not to have peace and quietness in his own 
 house ? " the old man cried, angrily. 
 
 "As to that, I am not so sure that it is your own house," the 
 young sailor said, quietly but his face had gradually been be- 
 coming firmer and firmer. " But I am not a lawyer. It was 
 Alison's father's house, I know ; and I dare say he did not leave 
 her without her share in it. But this I'm quite sure of, as long as 
 Alison is in it, and as long as she is willing I should conie to see 
 her, I'm not going to ask anybody else's leave. I don't want to 
 quarrel, Mr. Graham. I don't want to make matters worse. In- 
 deed, I thought I might come to some kind of friendly under- 
 standing if not for our own sakes, at least for Alison's. The lass 
 is sore put about ; and why need that be ? Why should she be in 
 trouble, when there's no cause for it ? I'm not asking her to marry 
 to-morrow or the next day ; it would be when it was most con- 
 venient for her and for you." 
 
 Jameson spoke fairly and temperately, and also with a touch of 
 hope or, at least, of appeal in his look ; but the unlucky refer- 
 ence to the ownership of the house had caused the farmer's eyes to 
 gleam with wrath, and now his voice, when he spoke, was hardly 
 under his control, so fiercely angry was he. 
 
 " And how daur ye, sir ; how daur ye come here to speak to me 
 about Alison or any other in this house ? What concern have ye 
 as to whether my niece is well or ill ? Ay, I will tell ye what your 
 interest is ; well I know that, my fine fellow, that can go about 
 the country like a gentleman, while other folk have to work and 
 earn their living! Alison? it's not Alison, but Alison's gear 
 you're after. And ye think that a decently brought up girl like 
 ihat will consort with an idle wastrel and gangrel, with a sailor 
 chap, that has a wife in every port he sails to ? Get out of this 
 house, sir; that is my answer. What, do ye think the lass ia 
 blind ? Ye come after her wi' your flattering and fawning ; but isi 
 
9 
 
 she blind ? Doesna she see that it's her share, her small share, in 
 the farm that you're after, that her father left her, and that I have 
 tended as it was my own ? And where would it be in a year in a 
 week if you had it to scatter ? But she's not blind ; she's not 
 blind ; you'll go the way ye came, and empty-handed as ye came ! " 
 
 He paused, for fair lack of breath ; but meanwhile the face of 
 the younger man had grown darker. 
 
 " Alison knows better," said he, and as if it were safer to say no 
 more. 
 
 " Alison ! " the old man said, with his voiced now roused to 
 passion pitch. " I'll have her know ay, and you, too who is the 
 master in this house. I'm for no gangrels and wastrels skulking 
 about my premises if there's a shotgun or a horsewhip handy. 
 A fine thing, to make a fool of a silly idiot of a lass, that doesna 
 ken the difference between an honest man and a thief a thief that 
 would get hold of whatever she has, and waste it in his idle 
 courses. But that's no done yet ; no, nor while I'm above ground 
 will it be done. " 
 
 " It's the first time in my life that I have ever been called a 
 thief," Alec Jameson said and his hands were trembling a little, 
 though he spoke with a kind of forced composure. " Well, I 
 mean to see who is the thief." 
 
 " What mean ye, you scoundrel ? " 
 
 " I mean this plump and plain will I tell ye what I mean," the 
 younger man said, and it was evident that he had done now with 
 all thoughts of pacification. ' ' I offered to make friends wi' you, 
 for Alison's sake. That's not to be. Well and good. You and I 
 will settle this matter between ourselves now, Mr. Graham ; and 
 brag will not do it ; and bluster will not do it ; and calling names 
 will not do it. Thief ! My good man, that is a very ugly word. 
 It's I that want to know who is the thief 
 
 " Will you leave my house ? " the farmer said, springing to his 
 feet. 
 
 " No. I will not. And I will not leave this room until I have 
 said my say," was the calm rejoinder, though Jameson's lips were 
 rather pale, and his eyes full of a dangerous fire. " Mind you, 
 Alison will be guided by me that's one thing you may make sure 
 of ; and I'm thinking it's time there was a settlement about her 
 share in the farm that was left her bv her father. Where has tha) 
 
10 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 gone to all these years ? Not a penny has she had to spend on herself 
 except for clothes, and she's clad like a servant lass ; she is but a 
 servant lass, but she gets no wages. "Where's her money ? Where's 
 her father's will, that she can tell what belongs to her ? And you 
 think that everything is to go on as it is, the lass slaving away at 
 keeping the house for you, and never to think of altering her con- 
 dition, and never to ask questions, but to let you make away with 
 her money from year to year ? But there's an end to that now 
 there's an end ; and the lawyers at Inverness will be called in to 
 declare who is the thief." 
 
 Rage pure and simple seemed to have paralyzed the old farmer, 
 but only for a few seconds. With a kind of an inarticulate ciy of 
 " You scoundrel ! you scoundrel ! " he sprang forward with up- 
 lifted arm, as if threatening to fell his enemy. But Jameson 
 merely held out his open hand palm outward. 
 
 "Don't you come near me. I warn you. You're an older man 
 than I am, and I don't want to strike you ; but I will allow no 
 man to put a hand on me. I'm going. I've said my say. I 
 wanted to be friends with you for Alison's sake. Now it's war. 
 And there's them in Inverness will soon be brought to declare 
 wliich of us two is the thief." 
 
 He turned abruptly and left. 
 
 " And may the lightning from heaven blast you ere ever you set 
 foot in Inverness streets ! " the older man said, scowling helplessly 
 at the now vacant doorway. 
 
 He went back to his seat in front of the iron chest, and sat 
 down ; he was all shaking with the excitement of his stormy inter- 
 view ; but the anger in his heart, instead of subsiding, grew only 
 the more fierce as he thought of the meaning of the young sailor's 
 threats. He chanced to look out of the window at the heavily 
 rolling sea that was clearly visible for miles and miles in the moon- 
 light. 
 
 " Ay," he said to himself, " that is the sailor's grave, wide and 
 deep ; that is the thing that comes to you in the end. There are 
 no threats when there's fifty fathoms o' water above ye and I 
 would to God you were lying there now ! The insolent scoundrel ! 
 and he has got this brat to go with him ; and the lawyers at 
 Inverness ? " 
 
 He arose and began walking up and down the small apartment, 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 1 1 
 
 muttering to himself sometimes, as was his wont, and sometimes 
 standing still to look out on the far stretch of wind-driven, moon- 
 lit sea. 
 
 " There's them that can't hurt," he was saying to himself, " and 
 if all the stories be true, sometimes you can get them on your side, 
 and they'll work for you a mischief on your enemies as easily as 
 anything else. I've heard of ships being struck by lightning com- 
 ing out of a clear sky ; how was that but by some interference ? 
 But he's not on the sea, nor will be for awhile yet, I suppose ; 
 the grave is waiting him there wide and deep, wide and deep ; 
 but it may be a long time yet." 
 
 He turned to the open door, as if fearful that these unspoken 
 desires might be overheard ; then he went to the top of the stair 
 and listened ; there was no sound but the cry of the wind and the 
 heavier plunge of the sea ; then he returned to the room, and shut 
 the door behind him, and resumed his dark meditations. 
 
 " The venomous snake, to come creeping into a man's house ; 
 but I'll be even with him yet, if I burn the heather for a mile 
 round him. Ay, I have seen them twisting themselves into a ball, 
 and writhing as the circle of fire came closer and closer on them ; 
 and that's how I'll have him writhe sooner or later ; and then 
 there will be a laugh ! Oh, it's very safe you are when you're 
 burning the heather ; your on the outside of the ring ; it's the 
 adders that are in the middle, and lively enough they are when 
 the flame comes hotter and hotter on them. And that's the flame 
 I would have burning in his heart ! " 
 
 And then he went back upon the line of thinking that had oc- 
 cupied him when he was scraping the last traces of paint from the 
 lid of the iron chest. 
 
 " I have been a careful man, careful not to offend either side ; 
 and if they're friendly to me now, as I think they were when the 
 factor rode into the bog, maybe they would help me. Ay, that 
 would be the way to get even with him, instead of waiting for the 
 wide grave there ; and maybe, if they would set to work at once, 
 there might be a stop put to his business with the lawyers in In- 
 verness. They say the wise women can manage it, but it's hard 
 to get at them ; the fiscal hunts them, and hunts them whenever 
 he gets the chance, and there's scarcely a one left now. But I've 
 heard of them now and again, and I could find out ; and it thg 
 
12 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 unknown people are friendly to me if they understand that I 
 never took a stick or a stone from a Sith-bruth all the years of my 
 life then, my friend Jameson, I may be upsides with you ; ay, it 
 will not be the lawyers in Inverness you will be thinking of ; you 
 will be writhing like the snakes when the heather is on fire." 
 
 CHAPTEE H. 
 
 BY THE SHORE. 
 
 MEANWHILE the young sailor had quickly recovered his equanim- 
 ity ; as he went down the stair and along the passage to the outer 
 door of the house, he was somewhat ostentatiously whistling just 
 in case one or other of the lads or lasses might happen to have 
 overheard these high words. And probably in making that final 
 appeal to the old man, he had been moved rather by the wish to 
 please pretty Alison Graham, than by any distinct hope of suc- 
 cess ; and now he was no worse off than he was before ; rather bet- 
 ter he was, in truth, for this open declaration of war was preferable 
 to mere shilly-shallying and futile balancing of probabilities. 
 Alison would now know the worst ; she would be called upon to 
 choose for herself. And as for the taunt that it was only her 
 money that he was after well, he would leave that question also 
 to be settled by Alison, and he thought he knew what the answer 
 would be. 
 
 And so he left the house fixing his cap tight in order to face 
 the fierce gusts of wind and set out along the road leading by 
 the shore. If he was whistling now no one could hear him, for 
 all the night was filled with the rush and roar of that wild, moon- 
 lit sea, that came thundering in on the rocks below him ; but 
 there seemed no further need to make any such professions of 
 cheerfulness, for apparently he was quite alone in this strangely 
 clear and vivid world. For some little distance, as he walked smartly 
 on, the road followed the windings of the shore, then it struck in- 
 land somewhat, skirting a plantation of larch and spruce, and 
 it was at the corner of this wood that Jameson paxised and 
 looked around him, uncertain. He had not long to wait. The 
 next moment the figure of a young woman had come quickly and 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 13 
 
 quietly out from the dusk of the larches into the open moonlight ; 
 his sweetheart was clasped in his arms. 
 
 " Well, Ailie, lass, it's a wild night to be keeping you outside." 
 
 " But what said he, Alec? What said he ? " she broke in, with 
 a trembling anxiety in her tone. "Is it all right now, Alec? 
 Have you made friends ? " 
 
 The young sailor laughed in an embarrassed kind of way, and 
 pushed back the thick tartan shawl which she had thrown over 
 her head and shoulders, so that he could get a better view of the 
 upturned oval face and tender dark blue eyes and rich and abun- 
 dant chestnut-brown hair. He seemed in no hurry to begin his 
 story. Those eyes were pretty to look at, despite their eager ques- 
 tioning, and her brown hair that he had brought about her cheeks 
 was soft to the touch. 
 
 "Tell me, Alec, is it good news you have?" she pleaded, for 
 that short laugh of his sounded rather ominous. 
 
 " Faith, Ailie, lass, the news is none of the best," said he, though 
 he spoke quite cheerfully, and petted and caressed her at the same 
 time. " But it's nothing to be downhearted about, not a bit, my 
 brave lassie. He cannot blame you for what has happened, any- 
 way, and you'll be no worse off at the farm than before." 
 
 " But what has happened then, Alec ? " she said, with her troubled 
 eyes fixed intently on him. 
 
 " What has happened ? Well, the fat's in the fire this time, and 
 no mistake, and that's about what has happened, Ailie, darling," 
 said he, rather ruefully, and yet with no deep chagrin, for he 
 wished to make light of the whole matter. " Oh ! there's to be 
 no more beating about the bush, I warrant ye ; your uncle and I 
 have come to a plain understanding at last." 
 
 " You've quarrelled worse than ever ! " she cried. 
 
 "Well," said he, and he took the pretty oval face in his two 
 hands, "and what is there to be frightened at? W T hy should 
 your pretty eyes look so troubled all about nothing ? " 
 
 "And you said you would be patient you said you would be 
 patient for my sake," she said, reproachfully. 
 
 "And I was," he answered. "I was indeed. Patient? Yes, 
 as long as might be. Well, I'll tell you the truth, Ailie. I did 
 what I could at the beginning. I tried to be as friendly as ever 
 I could speak, though I would not have taken what he said to me 
 
14 THE WISE WOMEtf OF INVERNESS. 
 
 from any other man, for I kept thinking of you, Ailie, and of your 
 life at the farm ; and, says I to myself, hard words don't break 
 bones, and it's all for Ailie's sake ! Then there came something 
 that I could not stand." 
 
 He paused, seemingly reluctant to go on. 
 
 "What was it, Alec?" 
 
 He regarded her in silence for a second or so, pretending to scan 
 her face curiously. 
 
 " But if I put such things into your head, my darling, maybe 
 you'd think them true ! " 
 
 "What things?" 
 
 " Supposing you were to hear it said that it was not you that 
 I wanted, but your money, your share of the farm and the house ? " 
 
 He affected to retreat from her a little bit ; and, in fact, with- 
 drew his hands from her shoulders. 
 
 " And if you told me so yourself I would not believe you," said 
 she, simply. 
 
 " But are you sure now, Ailie ? Maybe it's true. If you were 
 to be told that I was an idle wastrel and vagabond, with a wife in 
 every port the Princess Mary sails to ; and that I only wanted to 
 get hold of your money to scatter and spend it and to leave you 
 when it was done, I dare say supposing you were to hear that 
 said of me ? " 
 
 There was a proud smile on her face ; she did not answer. 
 
 "Look here, Ailie," he continued. "Just consider. Maybe 
 they're no so far wrong. Here am I with an offer from the owners 
 of the Princess Mary that they'll make me skipper as soon as I can 
 raise enough money to buy a fifth share. It's a terrible tempta- 
 tion for a man. And then there's a young lass at Fasslie that 
 ought to be well off if she had all that belongs to her ; and I come 
 courting that young lass and telling her she's the prettiest lass in 
 the north of Scotland only that's no lie, for her looking-glass can 
 tell her as much any day in the week and pretending that it's her 
 I'm after, when it's the captain's cabin in the Princess Mary I'm 
 after " 
 
 " And you would have the money to-morrow morning, Alec, if I 
 had it to give you," said she which was a quite illogical climax to 
 these speculations of his. 
 
 "But wait a minute, Ailie," he said, "for this you'll never 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 15 
 
 guess. I go to see the uncle of the young lass, to make peace 
 with nim and win him over ; but he'll no hear of anything of the 
 kind, and what is all the quarrel about ? Why, it's about the 
 young iass's property, and her share in this and that, and what the 
 lawyers in Inverness would have to say. Money, money, money is 
 the whoie cry. Very well, and yet you say you would not believe 
 that of me ! " 
 
 "And maybe it's not the first time I have heard such things 
 hinted," said she with a smile ; and, Indeed, if he remained at a 
 little distance and affected to scrutinize her, the look that she 
 bestowed on him in return had not much of doubt or distrust in 
 it. " Oh, yes ; and many's the time I have been glad to think 
 that something would be coming to me if my uncle would only 
 make up the accounts. For, if we were to marry Alec " 
 
 " If we were to marry ? " he cried, and he came nearer her again 
 and took hold of her by the two shoulders. 
 
 " Well, when we many?" she said, with downcast eyes, "it 
 will be something to start the house with, wherever we choose to 
 live. Oh, yes, and the share in the ship, too, if it is possible. Do 
 you think you would be five minutes without that if I had the 
 money in my hand ? Would it not be for my good as well as for 
 yours, my dear ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes," said he, "for there's the captain's cabin, Ailie, and 
 you could come a voyage with me now and again, and I would in- 
 troduce you to my other wives in the different places." 
 
 " I am not afraid of that," she said. 
 
 "Well, now, Ailie," said he, speaking more seriously, "when 
 that was cast in my teeth that it was your money I was after I 
 could not stand that. To be called a thief, too ; aye, and who is 
 the thief, says I ? Where is the money you have kept back from 
 Alison all these years ? What kind of a story will the lawyers 
 have to make out ? For it was a stiffish quarrel, Ailie, darling, 
 and that's a fact, and it's all over between him and me for certain, 
 and we've got to make the best of matters as they stand. It's 
 never again shall I be within that house, that's fixed. No, it's you 
 that have to come to me now ; I will never be inside that house 
 again." 
 
 " Alec, Alec ! " she said in a voice of deep entreaty. " Surely 
 it is not so bad as that ! I asked you to be patient " 
 
16 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 " Patient, lassie ! " he exclaimed. " I tell you I was as patient 
 as man ever was bless me, I had to warn him back or he would 
 have struck me with his fist. The man's mad, I'm thinking ; or 
 else it's this that he is keeping back even more than we suspect, 
 and that the very mention of lawyers is enough to drive him out 
 of his wits. Well, what's done is done ; what we have to do is the 
 next thing. You see, lass, I have no right to interfere in your 
 affairs at all." 
 
 "And why not, Alec?" said she. "And if not you, who else 
 then ? It's not my uncle I would look to. I think he would be 
 glad if I were dead and out of the way." 
 
 " No doubt ; that's the very thing that would suit him ; but we 
 cannot just oblige him so far as that, lass," Jameson said. " Out 
 of the way, maybe ; yes, we may take ye out of the way, or out of 
 his way, rather ; but if ye were to be ruled by me or if it was my 
 business to interfere he would soon find out that ye were not 
 dead at all, but very much alive. " 
 
 " What would you have me do, Alec ? .1 have none to look to 
 but you. What is it you want me to do ? " said she, with absolute 
 trust in her eyes. 
 
 " Leave Fasslie," said he at once, " and come and live with my 
 mother at Nairn for a few weeks. Then we will get married ; and 
 then I will have the right to interfere vn your affairs and who ele ?" 
 
 She sighed a little. 
 
 "It's a pity," she said, at length. " I thought some friendly 
 arrangement might be made. Why should my uncle be set against 
 it? He will have plenty, even after I go." 
 
 " Perhaps there is a little settling up of accounts that might be 
 inconvenient," the young man suggested, dryly ; but instantly he 
 added in a tone of vexation, " but how is it that money and money 
 and money seems to fill the whole of this night ? No, no, I will 
 not interfere. Somebody else must guide ye, lass. Take advice 
 now ; go to some shrewd-witted person, and just tell the truth. 
 Say you have a sweetheart, and you are not sure of him 
 
 " Alec ! " she said, and forthwith the pretty, appealing blue eyes 
 began to fill with tears. 
 
 " But it's the way of the world you foolish creature?" he said 
 with pretended anger. " How do you know that your uncle is not 
 right ? " 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 17 
 
 "It is no use your speaking like that to me," she said proudly. 
 "No, and it is not fair, Alec. And it is not so much time we have 
 together that you should throw it away in speaking nonsense." 
 
 " Well, then, will you leave Fasslie ? " 
 
 For answer she clutched his hand, in affright. Her feminine 
 watchfulness had caught sight of something that he had not no- 
 ticed at all the figure of a man along there on the white moonlit 
 road. 
 
 " It's my uncle," she said, and instinctively she caught her lover 
 by the arm and drew him further into the dusk of the trees. 
 
 But they could still easily make out the dark figure coming 
 along the white road ; nay, more ; they could observe his every 
 movement. And presently it was apparent that he was searching 
 every nook and cranny along the shore, and they guessed readily 
 enough that he had come out in quest of his niece, having missed 
 her in the house. Jameson and his sweetheart stood perfectly 
 still, behind the screen of young larches and spruce. As for the 
 young man, he was quite aware tha.t the farmer would be in a vio- 
 lent temper, but he did not heed that much. He merely thought 
 that it would be an excellent joke if Alison's uncle were to go by 
 their hiding-place, so that the girl might get home before him. 
 And if he did find her, what more could he do than scold ? and 
 he, Jameson, would take care that the words were not too uncivil. 
 
 But the next moment a quick pang of dismay or of anger, or 
 of both together shot through his heart. The old man earned a 
 horsewhip ! A horsewhip and for whom ? Would he dare to 
 raise it against her even by way of threat as he drove her home ? 
 All the young man's blood was on fire. A horsewhip to his Alison ! 
 
 ' ' Here, lass, come along ; I want to see what this means ? " 
 
 He took her hand and led her out into the road. When tho old 
 farmer came along they were standing right before him. 
 
 " And it's there ye are, ye limmer, ye hussy disgracing an 
 honest man's house ! " he said, in tones of suppressed rage but 
 he did not come any nearer, for Jameson had stepped forward. 
 " Home wi' ye home wi' ye ye shameless hussy." 
 
 The two men were now face to face. 
 
 " Another word like that to the lass," the younger man said, 
 " and by the Lord I'll heave you on to the rocks there ! " 
 
 A timid hand was put on his arm ; he shook it off. 
 
IS THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 " Leave me alone, lass ; we're going to settle this thing nov 
 and here." 
 
 " Settle it?" the old farmer said and the horsewhip which ha 
 held in his hand shook and trembled with the violence of his pas- 
 sion. " And who are you, sir, that daur to come between me and 
 her ? I tell you I will have the mastery of her so long as she bides 
 in my house I will not have the very name of the place disgraced 
 by her wandering about at night wi' a vagabond. Out of the way 
 now and you, you limmer, home wi' ye, ere the very servants 
 come out to mock ye." 
 
 And perhaps he would have gone forward to seize her by the 
 arm and drag her home, but that the young sailor who stood before 
 him did not show the slightest intention of stepping aside. On the 
 contrary, he was very much in the way, and remained so ; and 
 there was a kind of sarcasm in his look. 
 
 " Yes, it's a fine home for her to go to," said he (for he was not 
 much of a hand at scolding), " and it's a fine guardian you've been 
 to her, just as if she had been your own bairn. Oh, yes ; saving 
 up for her and scraping everything together for her, it was just 
 out of kindness, I suppose, that she has scarcely ever had a six- 
 pence to spend on herself. Yes, and selling the pony that her 
 father bought for her ; that was to add up, too, I suppose 
 
 " Alec ! Alec ! " the girl said, trying to interpose. " And you, 
 uncle, why should there be a quarrel ? " 
 
 " Will ye go home will ye go home, I tell ye ? " the old man 
 roared. 
 
 " No, she will not go home until it suits her own convenience," 
 Jameson said ; and he seemed to grow more and more cool and 
 quiet in his demeanor, the greater the rage of his antagonist be- 
 came. " It's a nice home you've made it for her since her father 
 died, and it's a pleasant life the lass has had to lead. Well, that's 
 about over now. If it's news to you, you're welcome Alison is 
 going to leave Fasslie." 
 
 " Leave Fasslie ! " the other gasped. It seemed, then, there 
 was a conspiracy between these two ? They had laid their heads 
 together to dare him to try to cheat him out of that hoard that 
 he had been so diligently amassing, ever since the management of 
 the farm fell into his hands ? 
 
 , I do not wish to leave Fasslie," Alison pleaded and^- 
 
THE mSE WOMEN OP INVERNESS. 19 
 
 she had been crying a little over this wrangle that seemed so 
 hopeless, and that seemed to bode so much trouble for the future. 
 
 "No, nor will ye leave Fasslie with my will, ye graceless hus- 
 sy ! " he cried. " Will ye leave the place ye were born in and 
 for what ? To face the world with an idle vagabond -- " 
 
 " Vagabond he is not ! " she exclaimed, firing up at the word. 
 " And you will do no good with me, uncle, by speaking ill of 
 him -- " 
 
 "Ailie, lass, what does it matter?" her lover interposed ; but 
 she was not to be interrupted ; she would have her say out. 
 
 " And I did not wish to leave Fasslie ; but what else is there 
 now ? What can I do but that ? There will be no peace 
 
 " What else is there ? " he bellowed, for he was like a madman in 
 his impotent fury Jameson, standing there facing him and dar- 
 ing him to advance a step. " What else? There's a whip to curl 
 round your shoulders, ye impudent li miner." 
 
 " Ay," said Jameson, quickly, " is that it, then ? " 
 
 Before the farmer could tell what had happened the horsewhip 
 was snatched from his hand, the stick of it snapped in two, and 
 both pieces whirled away through the air and falling, indeed, 
 on the rocks below them. 
 
 " And it's the same for you, if you like, my man," the young 
 sailor said, with his eyes afire. "Would you like to follow? A 
 horsewhip to a young lass? To speak of such a thing, you 
 white-headed old thief and coward by the Lord, I wonder I can 
 let you stand there." 
 
 For a moment it seemed as if the old man was about to rush on 
 his antagonist (who was sorely hampered, too, by Alison clinging 
 to him and trying to pull him away), but he suddenly changed his 
 mind ; he turned and strode off crunching the stones in the road 
 in the blind fury of his wrath ; and plainly enough they could 
 hear him say : " I'll have the dogs down I'll have the dogs down, 
 and chase ye from the country-side, ye scoundrel vagabond ! " 
 
 And then the young sailor turned to his sweetheart, who was all 
 trembling and sobbing and frightened, and he would wipe the 
 tears away from her pretty face, and he called her all kinds of soft, 
 pet names, and bade her be of courage. 
 
 " For you see how matters stand now, Ailie, my dear," said he, 
 and he smoothed her hair back from her forehead, as if he woul<} 
 
20 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 have nothing come between him and the open clear depths of her 
 eyes, "and it's no use hoping that a madman will become a rea- 
 sonable man. Your life at the farm will be a misery as long as 
 you bide there, and I am not afraid to ask you to come away ; 
 anything will be better than that, and when you are living with 
 my mother, then there will be time and peace and comfort for you 
 to consider what you will do next. No, I am not afraid to ask you 
 to do as much as that, for that will be for your good, I know." 
 
 " But I will do anything you tell me, Alec," said she, and her 
 absolute confidence in him was apparent as much in her manner 
 as in her words, ' ' for I have no one in the world to guide me but 
 you." 
 
 " And your own common sense, Ailie. And you must not trust 
 me any further than what a stranger would say was right." 
 
 "But I do trust you; and how can yon help that?" said she, 
 with a smile struggling through her tears. 
 
 ' ' Then I'll have to guard you against yourself ; and very easy 
 it will be, for when you're living in Nairn we'll just get the lawyer 
 folk to tie up whatever money you may have I mean whatever 
 money they may be able to get from your uncle " 
 
 " But they cannot tie it up if I want to give it to you," said she. 
 " And, oh, Alec, wouldn't it be fine if we could buy the fifth share 
 in the ship and you to be made captain " 
 
 " Yes, and what would be just as fine would be this, if we were 
 to rent a small cottage just outside Nairn, or Elgin, or Inverness, 
 and you to have a little garden to amuse yourself wi' when I am 
 away, and a little servant lass to help you. You see, Ailie, every- 
 thing's to be little the cottage, the garden, the servant lass. It's 
 like the old song, you know, ' When a little farm we keep ' I 
 say, everything is to be little except one thing, and that is the love 
 in your heart, Ailie." 
 
 " But you cannot expect me to keep that little," said she, 
 regarding him with her fond, trusting eyes. "Anything else, 
 except that." 
 
 " No, no ; you will keep that as big as you can, my dear, as long 
 as it is mine," said he. 
 
 Then he bethought him of the farmer's parting threat. 
 
 " Well, I must be off, Ailie, for I don't want to be worried by et 
 Jot of yelping collies," 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 21 
 
 " Oh, do you think the dogs would harm any one that is with 
 me ? " she said, confidently. 
 
 " Well, it's no use having any more quarrelling ; there's been 
 enough of that for awhile ; and as soon as I get back I will go 
 through to Nairn, and my mother will arrange for your coming, 
 and the sooner the better. The Princess Mary will not be ready 
 for a week yet, and you could write and say where I am to meet 
 you " 
 
 " But if my uncle will not let me leave the farm ? " 
 
 " How is he to hinder you ? " 
 
 " He might lock me up in a room," said Alison. 
 
 And loudly he laughed. 
 
 " I'm thinking that would not last long, Ailie, my dear ! I'm 
 thinking I would soon have some of the lads with me, and we'd 
 get you out if we stripped the slates off the roof. No, no ; it's 
 when you want to leave the farm, you'll leave it I will take care 
 of that ; and your room will be ready for you in Nairn as neat 
 and clean and smart as a new pin." 
 
 And then at last he had to go, and he had comforted her amaz- 
 ingly, and she was smiling through her tears ; and when the final 
 good-bye was said, and the last hand-shake and kiss given and 
 taken, and the last, long, lingering look withdrawn, sjie turned 
 and took her way toward the solitary farm house, through the loud- 
 reverberating, clear, moonlight night. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A CONSPIEACY. 
 
 INVERNESS is not much of seaport, and the occasional rows of 
 small houses in the neighborhood of the almost disused quays are 
 visited by but few passers-by, especially in the daytime. And yet 
 old Robert Graham, as he slowly walked along one of those soli- 
 tary thoroughfares pretending to saunter idly and aimlessly, 
 indeed, as if he had only wandered hither by chance had a keenly 
 apprehensive look in his deep-set eyes ; and he was sharply and 
 covertly watching the movements of every human being within 
 sight. As a matter of fact there was only one person who could 
 possibly be a spy on him ; and that was a man who, slung over 
 
22 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 the side of a big schooner lying high and dry on the mud, was 
 working on the hull while his back was turned on the street, and, 
 moreover, he was engaged with his own affairs, hoarsely singing 
 the while some dolorous sailor song. 
 
 Twice and three times did the old farmer slowly walk up and down 
 this empty street ; though well he knew the house he was seeking, 
 for it had been shewn him the evening before, toward dusk, when 
 the dim light in the window seemed to him something mysterious 
 and awful, and the very silence around unholy. And now, when 
 he at length mustered up courage to approach the door that his 
 eye had been stealthily fixed on for some time back, there was a 
 curious sensation of dread about his heart and the hand that he 
 timidly raised to the rude iron knocker was shaking a little, though 
 he did not notice that. He hesitated but for a second ; he rapped, 
 but not loudly ; the next moment the door ~ras opened. 
 
 A tall, thin, gray-haired, quiet and respectable-looking woman 
 stood before him, regarding him with mild and melancholy eyes. 
 She earned in her hand a piece of sewing ; apparently she had 
 been at work. 
 
 " Yes, sir? " she said, inquiringly ; and mild and melancholy as 
 those eyes appeared, they seemed to have scrutinized him from 
 head to foot in the meanwhile. 
 
 Mr. Graham was rather taken aback. Could this quiet-looking 
 creature be one of the two wise women the spey wives that fore- 
 told the fortunes of the young lasses about and sold charms to 
 sailors and were suspected of even darker dealings ? He had ex- 
 pected to find a couple of venomous old hags, crouching in some 
 dark chimney corner, to whom he could at once have revealed his 
 designs, beseeching their aid to rid him of his enemy. However, 
 he was a little bewildered and a little frightened ; and at length 
 he managed to say : 
 
 "Nancy Lissom ?" 
 
 " That's my sister's name," was the calm answer, and the 
 scrutiny of those mild but watchful eyes was continued. 
 
 41 1 want to see her," he said. 
 
 "The poor old woman's no so well the now," she said. "I 
 would rather not disturb her." 
 
 " But I maun see her it's business it's important," the farmer 
 said, rather breathlessly. 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 23 
 
 " I dinna see who that can be," the other answered him. " It's 
 me that minds the house, and the rent's paid and the taxes, and 
 the water and everything, and we dinna owe a penny to any living 
 though it's a hard enough struggle for two old folk like her and 
 me." 
 
 " Bless me, woman, I ken a' about you and your sister," said he 
 impatiently, for he did not wish to be seen talking at the door. 
 " Let me inside the house, and I'll tell you what I want." 
 
 " Ye're welcome to come in, sir," she said, and she made way for 
 him to pass, and shut the door after him, " but if a' the magis- 
 trates in Inverness were to come into this house, they would find 
 nothing wrong only two old wives, making but a scant living wi' 
 their needle ay, and one o' them getting so blind now that she 
 can scarce add a stitch." 
 
 "I'm not a magistrate," said he, almost under his breath ; for 
 the little room into which he was now ushered seemed strangely 
 quiet. And, indeed, there was no suggestion of necromancy about 
 this commonplace little apartment. It was just such another as 
 one might have expected in that neighborhood, only that it was 
 cleanly and tidily kept, however poor and plain the furniture might 
 be. There were the usual ornaments on the mantelpiece big sea- 
 shells, two cheap glass vases surmounted each with a frill of green 
 paper, and one or two photographs in frames. But what the 
 farmer instantly noticed was that on the little table at the window, 
 where the family Bible ought to have been, no family Bible was 
 there ; in place of that there was merely a flower-pot with some 
 red and yellow paper flowers in it, to attract the gaze of the 
 passer-by without. Then he turned to the melancholy-eyed 
 woman, who stood calmly waiting for Mm to speak. 
 
 "I want to be friends wi' ye, and wi' your sister," said he. 
 " I'm not a magistrate at all. I've heard o' ye. I've come here to 
 ask your help, ay, and I'll pay well for it. But it was Nancy Lis- 
 som I was told to ask for." 
 
 " My sister's in there," the woman said, nodding her head in the 
 direction of a door behind him, and still continuing to regard him 
 with suspicion. " But she's a poor old woman now, that can 
 scarce talk to strangers. And if ye've come to do us an ill turn, 
 sir, I wish you would go away again. We harm nobody. We just 
 want to be let alone." 
 
24 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 "An ill turn, ye foolish woman ! " he said angrily ; and then he 
 instantly altered his tone. " No, no, I want to be friends wi' ye, if 
 ye can give me any help. I'll make it worth your while. Look here." 
 
 He took out from his breast pocket a small parcel of 1 bank 
 notes, dark and dirty, as these usually are in the country districts 
 of Scotland and selecting two of them from the rest, placed them 
 open on the table. 
 
 " There's a handsel," said he. 
 
 When the woman saw the two bank notes lying there, her eyes 
 contracted like the eyes of a cat about to spring, and instinctively 
 she was about to seize them. But then she paused. She looked 
 at him. 
 
 "Is it a trap?" 
 
 She went quickly to the window, and, as well as she could, 
 glanced up and down the street to see if he had any accomplice 
 waiting without. There was no one there. She returned to the 
 table and took up the notes and said with a kind of sigh : 
 
 " I'm sure, sir, ye wouldna seek to harm two poor old women, 
 &nd one o' them near to her death, as I'm thinking. But nowa- 
 days it's a sin and an outciy if ye take a pack o' cards and tell a 
 lass whether her sweetheart is to be dark or fair. Not that I ken 
 anything about that, o. that I would do sic a thing ; but come in 
 and see my sister, and tell her what your business is. Folk call 
 her a wise woman but what's that ? It's just that she has the 
 skill and experience o' a long life, and many a one she has helped, 
 though many's the ill name that both o' us get in return for it. 
 And did I thank ye for this money, sir ? It's a poor life we lead, 
 for she's nearly blind, and I'm not so quick with the needle as I 
 was." 
 
 She opened a door in the partition dividing the lower floor of 
 the house, and preceded him into the back room. It was about 
 the same size as the one in front, but much more poorly furnished, 
 and it was darker also. There was a small fire burning in the 
 grate, though it was far from being cold weather without, and in 
 an easy chair by the side of the fire sat a little old woman older 
 than her sister and whiter of hair who was wrapped up in a thick 
 shawl, and wore on her head an old-fashioned " mutch." 
 
 She looked startled and even frightened when she saw the 
 stranger, and quickly turned to her sister. 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 25 
 
 " It's a' right, Nancy," the taller woman said. " The gentleman 
 has gi'en me a good handsel, and I'll leave him to tell ye his busi- 
 ness himsel'." 
 
 So saying she withdrew ; and then the interview on which the 
 old farmer had staked all his vengeful hopes began. And at first 
 it proceeded slowly enough ; for the little old woman, who seemed 
 to have remarkably sharp eyes, considering that her sister had 
 said she was nearly blind, would admit nothing ; pretended that 
 she only gave good advice ; then admitted that she practised a 
 little harmless forecasting by means of cards, and so forth. At 
 times, the farmer grew angry ; then, fearing to offend her, would 
 become quite humble again ; and finally he had recourse to fur- 
 ther money persuasions. The fact was he was desperate. If they 
 could not help, who could ? Would he have to part with his 
 niece, and her share of the profits of the farm that he had held 
 back, and her share of the stock as it stood, and all because an 
 insolent young puppy had chosen to interfere ? And this was the 
 only way of meeting him ; and time pressed ; and why would this 
 old woman that he had been assured had dark and mysterious 
 relations with the unseen powers prevaricate, and make false 
 assurances, and refuse to aid him ? 
 
 But this further bribe, though the parting with these two pounds 
 was like rending his heart in twain, prevailed ; and the little old 
 woman rose from the chair, and hobbled across the apartment, 
 and for a little while was busy in a little cupboard there. When 
 she came back she had something or other wrapped up in her 
 apron. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said she, in her quavering voice, as she sank into the 
 easy chair again, and pretended to keep her eyes fixed absently 
 on the fire, " if the police or the fiscal was coming, he would be 
 here ere now ; and its only when one is sure that one can speak 
 out ; and it's no often nowadays, when there's so few that believes 
 there's so few that believes. Well, well, poor things, maybe 
 it's better they shouldna ken what's going to happen. What use 
 is it to them to ken beforehand that the head of the house will 
 never come back frae sea, or that the bairn will be ta'en from 
 them, or that the money they hope for will never be theirs ? And 
 if they dinna believe that harm can be fended off well, well, they 
 must suffer, poor things. It wasna so once. I mind the daya 
 
26 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 when folk were glad to take warning ay, and to pay for the warn- 
 ingand to take heed, and guard themselves against the ill that 
 was coming. But there's few that believe nowadays, and a poor 
 old wife has amaist lost the secret o't, though it's them that's near- 
 est the grave that can see best." 
 
 He let her mumble on, apparently to herself ; for partly he was 
 hoping that she would of herself come to the mysterious art of 
 which he was in quest, but partly also because he was a little bit 
 overawed. There was something gruesome in being in solitary 
 converse with a reputed witch ; she did not seem to heed him 
 now ; she kept her eyes on the smouldering fire as if she saw 
 things there shipwrecks, funerals, children crying, women sitting 
 and moaning alone. And if the hope in his heart burnt fiercer, 
 it also made him afraid. He was coming close to these awful and 
 unknown influences, and how might they not affect himself ? He 
 had been most propitiatory to this old woman and her sister ; but, 
 after all, they were only instruments. And when once his pur- 
 pose was known, would the vague powers that compassed evil and 
 harm be on his side, and work with him ani for him, or might 
 they not turn against him and wither him with their malignant 
 craft ? 
 
 And now that she was satisfied he did not mean to betray her 
 that he was in reality seeking supernatural aid, and willing to 
 pay for the same she seemed bent on convincing him that he had 
 not come hither in vain. 
 
 " But there's no many now that care to be warned," she contin- 
 ued, still vacantly staring into the fire. " It was different in former 
 days. Maybe you've heard o' Willox the Warlock ?" 
 
 " I remember the name, but I never saw him," the farmer said, 
 and the very sound of his own voice made him start, so intently 
 had he been occupied with his fancies and his fears. 
 
 " Poor man, he died in '33. I mind him well. Macgregor was 
 his real name. And do ye ken what gave him power over the 
 spirits ay, so that he could raise a storm on a loch and drown 
 a boat ere ever warning could reach them? It was what they 
 call a talisman, that had been handed down to him ; and this 
 was the way of it. In former days there was a Water Kelpie in 
 Loch Ness, and he would linger on the road by the side of the 
 loch, in tiie shape of a fine horse all saddled and bridled, and 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 27 
 
 when some tired traveller would fain come along and get a ride 
 for a mile or two, no sooner was he in the saddle than down into 
 the loch ran the Kelpie and drowned him. But one o' the Mac- 
 gregors heard o' the Kelpie and attacked him, and slashed at the 
 head o' the horse with his claymore, and cut away the end o' the 
 bridle and a piece o' the bit ; and it was this that was handed 
 down to Willox the Warlock, as they called him, and many a 
 strange thing he did wi' it, as the folk will tell ye till this day. 
 Well, sir, ye hae been kind to two poor auld women, and I'm sure 
 ye're no in league with the police, and I'm just going to show ye 
 that very talisman that was well known in this countiy-side when 
 I was a young lass." 
 
 She opened her apron and took up a piece of yellow metal, and 
 held it out for him to look at. But he would not touch it. He 
 did not know what subtle power it might yet possess, and perhaps 
 for evil to the unwary. 
 
 " And what can ye do with that, then? " he said, almost in a whis- 
 per, and he had a sudden vision of Alec Jameson and of a storm just 
 outside Nairn harbor, and of a sinking ship, and then a wide, empty 
 sea, with darkness and night and silence coming down on it. 
 
 " It's no much that I can do wi' that," she said, absently. "The 
 day has gone by. The folks dinna believe in Water Kelpies 
 now " 
 
 " Ay, but if there was one ready to believe ? " said he eagerly. 
 " What then, what then, good-wife?" 
 
 She had taken from her lap another object an oblong piece of 
 crystal, pierced with several holes. 
 
 " Here," she said, " is the other talisman that Willox the War- 
 lock used, and maybe there's more to be done wi' that, if ye would 
 learn what's going to happen. Ay, there's many a strange thing 
 has been seen through that glass many a thing that has come 
 true when least it was expected, for days are no more than hours, 
 and years no more than days, when ye look through it. Would ye 
 like to try ? " 
 
 Well, this was not what he came for ; but he was fearful to 
 offend her, and how could he tell but that at any moment she 
 might suggest the very means that he desired ? So he assented, 
 and in a kind of half mystified way lie saw her go and fetch a bowl 
 of water- which she placed in front of the fire. 
 
3 THE '[VISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 " Kneel down," said she, " and put the glass on the top of the 
 water, and tell me if you see anything on the bottom of the 
 bowl." 
 
 He was afraid to take hold of the piece of crystal, but on the 
 other hand he did not know what danger he might incur by refus- 
 ing, so he did as he was bid. Of course when the crystal was in- 
 terposed between the glow of the fire and the bowl of water there 
 were shadows thrown on the bottom of the vessel, and sharper 
 lights where the holes were pierced ; and then again these seemed 
 to move, for he did not himself know that his hand was so trem- 
 bling and unsteady. 
 
 ''If it's waves," she said, slowly, and her eyes could now watch 
 him unseen, "it's a voyage." 
 
 There was no answer. He was puzzling over those mysterious 
 shadows, and too perturbed to make a definite guess. 
 
 " If it's trees," she continued 
 
 " Ay, it's more like trees, I'm thinking," he muttered. 
 
 "If it's trees it's a kirkyard," she said. 
 
 He sprang to his feet. 
 
 "A kirkyard ! For whom ? " he cried, perfectly aghast. 
 
 But the old woman took no notice of this sudden fright. 
 
 "How can I tell that," said she, in the same calm voice, "until 
 I hear what it is ye want to learn ? Indeed, I'll do my best for ye, 
 sir though there's nothing sure, there's nothing sure. But ye've 
 been a good friend to us this day I'll do my best." 
 
 Here, then, was the opportunity he wanted, and he strove to 
 collect himself. He reverently placed the piece of ciystal and the 
 bowl on the table, for although fortune-telling was not what he 
 was after, still these things might work mischief and then he 
 began his story. Truth to say, it was a very transparent fabrication. 
 It needed no witch to surmise that he was speaking of himself and 
 his own affairs. The story was of a farmer dwelling in a certain 
 place, who lived soberly and discreetly, trying to do his best by the 
 farm, and saving up every penny that he could save. And why ? 
 Because he had a niece, who, in the ordinary course of nature, would 
 fall heir to the property. But was she content with that ? No. 
 The idle hussy must needs take up with a harum-scarum young sailor 
 fellow, and now he was for taking her away from the house ; and 
 he was going to the lawyer's to make the farmer hand over all that 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 29 
 
 was due to her though that had all been expended in the bring- 
 ing of her up and also the value of her share in the stock, no 
 doubt. And not only that, but this impudent rascal of a sailor 
 had challenged the farmer to fight, and had miscalled him, and 
 would have lashed him with a horsewhip but that the whip broke 
 in his hands. And could she wonder, he asked eagerly, if he 
 wanted to baffle the intentions of this robber and plunderer ; aye, 
 and take vengeance on him for his threats and scorn ? And was 
 there no way of doing that ? The farmer would pay, he said. 
 Oh, yes, he would pay when the work was done. Hardly as he 
 had earned every penny of his savings, he would do much to save 
 his niece from becoming the slave of such a scoundrel. 
 
 " That, now," he said, fixing his eyes on the piece of yellow metal 
 that lay in her hand, " could not that work him a mischief ? " 
 
 " I'm no sure about that," she answered. " There's other ways 
 ay, there's other ways o' working a harm, if it was safe to 
 do it. But I maun have the name o' the farmer and o' the young 
 sailor lad," she added. 
 
 " Surely that's no needfu'," he said, rather drawing back. 
 
 " Indeed but it is," she said, doggedly. 
 
 He was loth to compromise himself so far, but, on the other 
 hand, being apparently so near the accomplishment of his wishes, 
 and having risked so much already, he could not think of giving 
 up. 
 
 " Graham," he said, with evident timidity, "that is the farmer's 
 name ; and the sailor's name, Jameson." 
 
 At the mention of the latter's name there was a curious little 
 twitch of the old woman's eyes, which he did not notice, and she 
 suddenly said to him : 
 
 "But his pther name I mean the sailor lad's." 
 
 " Oh, that's Alec ! " he said; he had less scruple about giving 
 her that information. 
 
 " And it's him that wants the young lass with the money? " she 
 said, with a quick glance at him. 
 
 Then she resumed her absent staring into the fire again. He 
 remained regarding her in silence. He guessed that she was de- 
 vising sure and certain means for the destruction of his enemy and 
 would not interfere. 
 
 " It's dangerous work," she said, at length. 
 
30 TUE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 "Ay, but when it's done it will be well paid for," said lie, 
 eagerly. " Can ye do it can ye do it, good wife ? Can ye bring 
 something upon him ? or can ye whisper them that can some- 
 thing quick and sudden, now, ere he gets time to go to the law- 
 yer's ? I tell ye, the lass is talking o' leaving the farm at once, 
 and together they'll be at the lawyer's ; haste ye to think now. 
 Can ye make something befall him something sharp and sudden, 
 that will end him for ever ? It was a kirkyaird I saw in the bowl 
 I'm sure o't trees and bushes it was that I saw a kirkyaird it 
 was and was that for him, good wife ? " 
 
 She seemed to pay but little heed to his malignant vehemence. 
 For awhile she sat perfectly silent and apparently absorbed, and 
 than she said slowly : 
 
 "There's the old and the sure way, if ye are daring enough to 
 do it." 
 
 " What is't what is't ? " he said, quickly. 
 
 She looked up again. 
 
 " Are ye so hard set against the lad ? " 
 
 " Wife, wife, ye dinna understand what he threatens to me and 
 mine ! " he exclaimed, but in a low voice. " Tell me what's to be 
 done, and leave the rest to me. And quick, quick it maun be, ere 
 the scoundrel gets to the lawyer's." 
 
 Inadvertently he had confessed that he himself was the farmer 
 of his imaginary story, but she knew that already. 
 
 "It's the old and the sure way," she repeated, in the same slow 
 fashion. " Ye take a wax image, and ye make ready a big fire, 
 and ye put the image before the fire, and when it begins to melt, 
 sickness strikes at his heart. Ay, and he pines and he pines, and 
 no one can tell what is the matter with him ; and on the second 
 day ye put the image to the fire again, and ye begin to stick 
 needles into it, and with every needle ye say, 
 
 ' Fire burn, fire stew, 
 Another knife I stick in you,' 
 
 until the image is finished ; ay, and when that's finished, the 
 man's finished, and it's the kirkyaird then for him, and a cold 
 stone at his head." 
 
 " And the wax image where could one get that, good wife?" 
 said he, almost in a whisper. 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 31 
 
 She regarded him. 
 
 " Come here to-night at nine o'clock to the minute, and it will 
 be ready for ye," she answered. "And mind ye, let no one see 
 your coming in or your going out ; for it's compassing a man's 
 life, and what does that mean, if it's found out, but the gallows ? " 
 
 He started, for there almost seemed a menace in her tone ; but 
 surely she was as much implicated as he himself was. However, 
 he promised to be there punctually at nine that evening, in 
 the utmost secrecy ; and so he got out of the house and into 
 the quiet little thoroughfare. As he made his way back to the 
 busier part of the town, the white daylight around seemed to have 
 a bewildering effect on his eyes, and his heart was darkened with 
 a nameless dread ; and his brain was busy trying to recall the 
 ghastly incantation he was to use when he put the waxen image of 
 his enemy before the sharp flames. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE WOKKING OF THE CHABM. 
 
 AT nine o'clock that night the moon was not yet over the chim- 
 ney-tops ; and this little thoroughfare that he sought with stealthy 
 step and anxious look was dark and solitary enough. And well 
 he wished himself out of Inverness, and back home ; at Fasslie he 
 could take safe and leisurely precautions to avoid observation ; 
 here he knew not what silent foot might be following him, what 
 unseen eye might be upon him ; nor yet what fell enchantment 
 might not be hovering around this very house that he was about 
 to visit. He was a little before the appointed time ; he walked 
 round by the quay and back again ; and ever his attention was 
 fixed on that particular window, where a dull red light shone. 
 What was it that made that light look baleful and sinister ? He 
 wished this business was over, and himself back at Fasslie Farm. 
 
 So far as he could perceive, he was quite unobserved as he 
 finally went up to the house, tapped lightly and was admitted. 
 Not a word was spoken by the taller of the two women, who re- 
 ceived him as on the previous occasion ; she merely opened the 
 door of the back room, and shu.t it behind him when he had 
 
32 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 entered. And the next moment his startled glance fell upon some- 
 thing that was lying there upon the table something that made 
 him shiver, though he had never seen the like before ; for the 
 waxen image that lay among some cotton fitted into a small box, 
 however rudely it may have been fashioned, seemed to him like a 
 corpse, and to have the cold, clammy, clayey look of a corpse. 
 He turned to the old woman, dreading to find her eyes fixed on 
 him and reading alike his desires and fears ; but her face was 
 away from him ; she was staring blankly into the fire. 
 
 " Ay, and what now, good-wife ? " said he, pretending not to 
 have seen that ghastly object lying there. 
 
 " It's ready for ye," said she, and she turned and glanced at the 
 table. ' ' There is that that will make a sick man of him, and syne 
 a dead man. Ay, that's the sure way, surer than the talisman that 
 Willox and Warlock cut frae the Kelpie's mouth." 
 
 " And when will it begin to work, good-wife ? " Said he anx- 
 iously. ' ' Maybe he's in Inverness at this minute ; maybe he'll nc 
 wait for the young lass to come from the farm ; maybe he'll go to 
 the lawyer's and make mischief ere he can be stopped. When will 
 it begin to work, tell me ; when will he fall ill ? " 
 
 " As soon as ever that wax is put to the fire and begins to melt," 
 said she, "then the sickness will strike into him. It's a dreadfu' 
 thing to think of a young man in the prime and health o' life 
 
 " Ay, but such a rascal as ye ne'er heard o'," he said, eagerly, for 
 he did not wish her to repent of her connivance ; perhaps she 
 might recall the charm at the last moment. " I tell ye, ye do well 
 to work harm on such a worthless, mischievous fellow ay, a ras- 
 cal that would rob an old man, and steal away a lass from her 
 proper home, and seek to get hold o' her money to spend it on 
 riotous living. Na, na, dinna fash your head about that, good-wife ; 
 he deserves all he'll get and mair. It's a good job ye've done." 
 
 And then he turned to the table and regarded the rudely-shaped 
 little effigy. 
 
 "And, maun I keep it at the fire melting and melting to the 
 end ? " said he, for now that the means were within his reach, he 
 seemed impatient to begin. 
 
 "No, no," she answered him. "Three days must go by; and 
 if at the end o' the third day it's no a' melted away, then into the 
 fire wi' it poor young fellow, that will be his death hour." 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 33 
 
 " But when I take away the wax frae the fire, will the illness 
 stop ? " he asked. 
 
 "No, no; when ye take the wax frae the fire it will harden; 
 but when once a man is struck with a pining, that holds him ay, 
 until it's time for the tramp o' the coffin men to be heard on the 
 stair." 
 
 ' ' And no matter where he is, will this reach him ? " he said. 
 
 " Ay, whether he is on sea or land, far or near, in a rich man's 
 house or in a poor, when the wax is put to the fire, then the pin- 
 ing and wasting begins, and every time ye put a needle into the 
 wax that is a pain going through his heart. Bethink ye, sir, what 
 ye are doing and spare him if ye can. My sister and me are poor 
 folk, and it's ill to get a living in such hard times as these ; and 
 I'm sure we would rather keep to the sewing if my eyes were no 
 so bad. It's no my own will that I would meddle wi' such things 
 as that. I wouldna harm a living soul." 
 
 He seemed to pay no heed to these pleadings, except in so far 
 as they tended to confirm his belief in the deadly power of this 
 instrument she had made for him ; and now but with rather 
 uncertain fingers he had taken the box in his hand. 
 
 "But what's this, good wife?" he said, suddenly; "What 
 color is this box ? Green, surely ? Ay, that will never do at a'. 
 Yell have to get me another box. There'll be no good luck to 
 me or mine if I take aught o' that color into the house. Bless 
 ine, it's a wonder I noticed it in candle-light." 
 
 " There's not another box o' the kind, but or ben," said she. 
 
 "Well, well," said he, "I'll take it wi' me as it is, and get 
 another ere I set out for home in the morning," and with that 
 he put the lid on and tied a bit of string round it, and was ready 
 to go. 
 
 "But ye're no leaving us that way," said she, with a kind of 
 feeble, whining remonstrance, ' ' after a' our trouble. We're poor, 
 poor folk, my sister and me ; and what with the police and the 
 fiscal and the neighbors spying on us, and glad to say an ill word 
 when they can, it's a hard struggle to live. And this practising 
 on a man's life, that we risk the gallows by, is that not to be paid 
 for?" 
 
 " But I've given ye four pounds, woman ! " he said, angrily. 
 
 And then he quickly bethought him that this was not the tone 
 
34 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 in which to address one who might turn these very powers against 
 himself. 
 
 "But dinna let's quarrel," said he. "No, no; see here's 
 another ; that's five and a good day's wage. But it's not five, 
 but twice five ye'll have from me when this work's done. Ten 
 pounds will I give ye on that day ; just mind that now, and ye'll 
 be looking forrit to the end as eager as I am mysel'. And so 
 goodnight to ye, good-wife ; and just keep a quiet tongue in your 
 head about this affair until I see you again." 
 
 And so he got him out of the house, and stole qiaietly away 
 back to the inn where he was lodging. There he succeeded in 
 getting a box something of the same size as the green one ; and 
 when he had transferred to it the deadly instrument which was 
 to work woe on his enemy, he felt more a't ease. And late into 
 the night he sat up in his solitary little room, wondering at what 
 hour of the following evening he would begin to melt the wax 
 figure, and wondering where Alec Jameson would be when first 
 he should find himself smitten with that strange sickness. Com- 
 punction, remorse, hesitation, he had none. He was all too anxious 
 to strike. Not only revenge for the past, but regard for his own 
 safety in the future, goaded him on. And how could any one 
 call it murder, when he but melted a doll at a fire, as any child 
 might do ? If there were maleficent beings who would make that 
 the occasion for working a man's bane, he knew them not. But 
 if these invisible powers befriended him, as they had befriended 
 him in times past, surely he would be gmteful to them, though 
 he might never know how to call them by their name. The old 
 woman, too, he would establish friendly relations with her ; it 
 was better to be safe with every one all round. 
 
 He reached home the following afternoon, and he was unusu- 
 ally civil to his niece- but in a suspicious, watchful way when 
 that he chanced to meet her about the house. Again, as they sat 
 down to supper in the evening, he said, with an appearance of good 
 humor : 
 
 " Well, now if you have any sense, lass, ye'll change your mind 
 about leaving Fasslie." 
 
 "And, indeed, uncle," she said, "it's no wish of mine that I 
 should leave Fasslie at least not the now ; and if I have to go, it 
 will be with no great gladness." 
 
TSB WISE WOMEN Of INVERNESS. 3a 
 
 " But who can make ye go if ye dinna want to go ? " he said, 
 eagerly. " Think o't, lass. Think o' the changes o' life, and you 
 going out to face them by yoursel', yes, by yoursel' ; for what 
 better is a sailor's wife than a left widow woman when he's away 
 at sea ? Ay, and the chances o' storms and shipwrecks, think o' 
 that ; and you living by yoursel' and waiting and waiting. That's 
 a terrible life for a young lass to lead. Here ye've a comfortable 
 home, where your father's name is weel kenned in the coun- 
 try-side ; and here's friends for ye in time o' trouble ; and ye 
 can see that everything that's done to better the house or the 
 building or the farm, that's a' being done for what is your own or 
 for what will be your own when I am taken. It's a sad thing to 
 see a young lass beguiled and led away from her own folk ; where 
 she has everything and no trouble ; and to see her going out to 
 face the world by hersel', among strangers that ken nothing about 
 her or hers, and will swindle her, or misca' her, or cheat her, 
 whenever they get the chance. It's a sad, sad thing to see ; and 
 I never thought it would be you, Ailie, lass." 
 
 He had never spoken like this to her before. Ordinarily he 
 was querulous, dissatisfied, complaining in his manner toward her, 
 and often-times downright ill-tempered, dictatorial, and brutal. 
 And for a second or two this plausible reasoning and this ap- 
 parent friendliness of his tone rather bewildered her, but presently 
 she said : 
 
 " It's too late to think o' that, uncle. I have given my word to 
 Alec Jameson and I am not going to take it back." 
 
 "It's never too late to mend an error," said he and he was 
 watching her with some eagerness, as if he expected to see some 
 sign of yielding in her face. 
 
 "And as for being a sailor's wife," she continued, "I suppose 
 every one has some trouble. Besides, it will not be so bad when 
 Alec is made captain, and then I can go a voyage with him from 
 time to time." 
 
 " And who is going to make him captain ? " he said, scornfully. 
 
 "They would make him that now," she answered, simply, "if 
 only he had money to buy a fifth share in the Princess Mary." 
 
 Instantly his face changed, and there was a savage gleam from 
 under the bushy eyebrows. 
 
 " Ay, ay, there again it's money he's after, as well I kenned," 
 
3 > THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 he said, between his teeth. " Money to buy a fifth share in the 
 Princess Mary ! Well, well, what's going to be will be ! " 
 
 Apparently he was trying to conceal his anger. He remained 
 silent for some little while, busying himself with his supper. 
 Then he said, in quite a conciliatory way : 
 
 " Ailie, lass, do you think they could light a fire for me in the 
 safe room ? " For so he had chosen to designate the room in 
 which he had placed the iron chest. 
 
 " Oh, yes, 1 ' said she, " it's many a day since there was a fire in 
 that room, but I dare say the chimney will draw well enough." 
 
 " As soon as ye've finished, then, just bid the lasses light a fire 
 there," said he, " ay, and a good blazing fire, for I have papers and 
 things to burn." 
 
 "Very well, uncle," she said, and, as she had just then finished 
 supper, she went away to do as she was bid. 
 
 It did not occur to him as unnecessarily and wantonly cruel to 
 ask a yonng girl to go and get ready a fire for the slow burning of 
 her lover's effigy ; his thoughts were elsewhere ; he was trying to 
 guess where Alec Jameson might be at this moment, now that this 
 fell disease was about to strike at his vitals. In a public house, 
 making merry ? Or on board the Princess Mary, wondering when 
 he was to become captain ? Or, perhaps, deciding as to which of 
 the lawyers he would go to on the following day ? Anyhow, for 
 him, and his mischief-making, and his insolent designs, there had 
 come an end. 
 
 It was Alison herself who came to announce that the fire was lit 
 and burning well. He went away and got a pair of iron pincers ; 
 then he sought out the little chamber and shut himself in, locking 
 the door behind him. Outside the world was growing white with 
 the moonlight the sea was distinctly visible and the far and dusky 
 line of coast under the clear, still heavens ; and so, for some reason 
 or another, he went to the window and closed the shutters and 
 barred them. Then he lit the solitary candle that was standing on 
 the mantel-shelf ; after a hard struggle he managed to open the 
 big iron chest ; he took therefrom the little box he had deposited 
 there for safety in the afternoon ; and presently the wax effigy was 
 in the firm grip of the pincers. He went to the fire. The flames 
 were burning merrily now. And then, after a moment's hesitation, 
 be thrust the wax in front of the hot red glow. 
 
THE l.ISE WOVEN OF INVERNESS. 37 
 
 All tliis lie liad done as one in a dream. It was not of these 
 mechanical appliances he was thinking ; it was of the effect of this 
 incantation, as it would now be happening many a mile away. 
 Had the pain begun ? Or was it only a feverish heat he felt as yet 
 and a sickness ? And were the maleficent spirits at work, hovering 
 over the house where Jameson was, and chuckling, maybe, and 
 laughing over their devilish trade ? Did the old woman know 
 what was going on ? Perhaps she could help ? He had left her 
 in a friendly mood. She had everything to hope for thwarting 
 him would not serve her turn, aiding him would be to her own 
 advantage. And Alison would still remain at Fasslie, and the 
 money and bonds and railway shares would be untouched and his 
 own, and no longer would the nights be full of fears as to what the 
 lawyers in Inverness might do. 
 
 But this wax image seemed hard and cold and impenetrable. It 
 did not seem to melt. And was the fire not yet beginning to pierce 
 him ? Perhaps the favoring unseen powers and influences were 
 waiting, were impatient, might go away ? And so he held the effigy 
 closer and closer to the bars, until it almost touched the coals. A 
 drop fell, and another, and another, and he began to tremble and 
 his head to swim for that they looked so like blood. And then, in 
 a half-dazed way, he rather withdrew the wax from the heat. The 
 melting was to be done thrice ; too fierce and sudden a sickness, kill- 
 ing a man at once, might provoke suspicion. And so he withdrew 
 the image somewhat, suffering it to harden again, and yet gradu- 
 ally. No matter if it were hardened quite and cold, the pain had 
 struck ; the disease would work now his enemy was disposed of. 
 
 And yet he was not altogether satisfied. "Why should a few 
 minutes' torture imperil a man's life? Perhaps he had been too 
 hasty in withdrawing the image from the fire ? And then again, al- 
 though the wise woman had instructed him to pierce the wax with 
 needles on the second day of the melting, what harm could there be 
 in putting in one now, just to make assurance doubly sure ? So he 
 held the effigy to the flames again, but not too near, until the wax 
 grew soft ; and then, tinder his breath, and with a malignant 
 emphasis which showed how profoundly he believed in the bale- 
 ful efficacy of the charm, lie repeated the words : 
 
 Fire burn, fire stew, 
 
 This first knife I stick in you, 
 
38 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 and drove the point of the needle into the upper part of the image, 
 about where the heart of a man would be. A further drop or two 
 of the wax fell on the hearthstone more like blood than ever, as 
 it appeared to him. But he was satisfied now, The mischief was 
 begun. His unknown friends could not complain of any want of 
 thoroughness on his part. 
 
 When he had replaced the now shrunken image in the box, and 
 placed that again in the iron chest, and locked the same, he blew 
 out the candle and made his way back to the parlor. Here he 
 found Alison and the servant lasses assembled for family worship, 
 that being the custom of the house ; and there was the big chair 
 drawn in to the table, and the family Bible lying open. His first 
 duty was to read a chapter, and he began to do so at once, but in 
 a mechanical fashion, for he could not keep his thoughts from 
 going back to the little chamber, and the red fire, and the needle, 
 and the drops falling like blood on the hearthstone. This was the 
 twenty-third chapter of the Book of Numbers he was reading, and 
 he had come upon it quite fortuitously ; for the practice of the 
 house was to go steadily through the Bible, from end to end, one 
 chapter a night. And yet as he read of Balak, the King of Moab, 
 who would have a curse fall upon Israel, and how Balaam was 
 constrained to bless the people, his mind was haunted with mis- 
 givings ; and then came the verse : " Surely there is no enchant- 
 ment against Jacob, neither is there any divination against Israel : 
 according to this time it shall be said of Jacob and of Israel, 
 ' What hath God wrought ! ' " But the mechanical reading came 
 to an end ; then he gave out the Psalm : 
 
 " They in the Lord that firmly trust 
 
 Shall be like Zion hill, 
 Which at no time can be removed, 
 
 But standeth ever still. 
 As round about Jerusalem 
 
 The mountains stand alway, 
 The Lord His folk doth compass BO, 
 
 From henceforth and for aye ; " 
 
 and they sang that to the plaintive tune of " Martyrdom," Alison 
 leading ; and then Alison and the girls went and he was left alone. 
 There was something disquieting in that chapter, however per- 
 functorily he had read out the verses ; and now, as he sat in the 
 
WISE WOMEN OF HnfflRlW88. 39 
 
 big arm-chair, plunged in a profound reverie, he tried to recall 
 
 them. And what was it that had caused the curse of Balaam to 
 
 
 
 fail? What had changed it into a blessing ? Surely the fact that 
 the children of Israel were under the special protection of the 
 Almighty, who had interfered with the ordinary course of nature 
 on their behalf. 
 
 "And it was long ago," he continued to reason with himself, in 
 these half-disconnected musings, "and it was in another part of 
 the world altogether. But long ago as it was, long before that 
 there were the other powers, in the glens and among the hills and 
 by the lochs, and who has put them away ? Before ever the chil- 
 dren of Israel were brought out of Egypt the kelpies were in 
 every water in Scotland ; and the underground people in every 
 lonely mound and hillock ; and spirits in every wood and glen and 
 on every wide untenanted moor ; who could think that they had 
 all been destroyed ? Balaam's curse was turned into a blessing 
 but that was in another land ; and the Lord was working miracles 
 from day to day on behalf of a particular people. But that was all 
 over now ; and here in Scotland the mysterious powers that dwelt 
 in earth, and air, and water, were allowed to work their will, as 
 thousands upon thousands of stories testified. And who was Aleo 
 Jameson that any interference should be made on his behalf? A 
 common sailor, that might lose his life to-morrow, or next day, by 
 stumbling over the edge of a quay, or falling down a stair, and 
 the world pay no heed at all. No, no ; there could be no interfer- 
 ence in his case. There were reasons for miracles in former days, 
 when there was a whole nation to save ; but this was merely a 
 sailor lad in Inverness. Who was to interfere to save him ? And 
 already the fire was kindled the consuming fire that was to eat 
 through him, and wither him, and destroy him forever." 
 
 That night old Kobert Graham could not sleep ; when he dozed 
 off for a few minutes, appalling visions presented themselves to 
 him and he would awake with a cry of terror, gazing wildly at the 
 door of his room, as if he expected strange figures to stalk in. At 
 last he got up and lit a candle and tried to read ; and then he 
 would walk up and down the room for another half -hour, thinking 
 mostly of Inverness and what might be happening there in the 
 dead of night ; and finally, when the first gray light of the dawn 
 appeared, he completed his dressing and was right glad to get into 
 
40 PHE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 the actual world, thcmgh it was as yet all voiceless and tantenanted 
 and spectral. 
 
 During that day he was quite anxiously civil toward his niece ; 
 though he did not notice that she, on her part, was disturbed and 
 restless, and absent from time to time for a considerable period. 
 
 " Ailie, lass," said he, at their midday dinner, "I'm thinking of 
 taking a trip to Edinburgh in a week or two's time." 
 
 ' ' Yes, uncle ? " 
 
 " "Would ye like to go wi' me ? " he said ; but he kept his eyes 
 down, for this was not a natural part for him to play. 
 
 " Me, uncle ? " she said, in great surprise. 
 
 " Both of us have as hard work as most folk," he said ; " what 
 wi' the farm and the house ; and we're no so ill off, though it's a 
 lot o' money to spend on the railway. But ye've often said ye 
 would like to see Edinburgh, and a lass come to your time o' life 
 shouldna have it to say that ye ne'er saw a town bigger than Inver- 
 ness, and I'm thinking we'll just have a bit holiday together if 
 ye're willing. Your mind has been set on other things as weel I ken, 
 but a young lass's fancies alter and alter as the days pass, and I dare 
 say you will be as well pleased to see Edinburgh as anybody. And 
 we'll no spend so much money after a', for we'll go to some quiet, 
 clean, comfortable bit inn or lodging-house about the Cowgate ; 
 and for the sight-seeing for ye maun see the Castle and the Cal- 
 ton-hill and Holyrood, and a mony things like that weel, we'll 
 just do it on foot as heaps o' better folk have to do. Ay, ay, lass, 
 your mind will hae plenty to think o' when ye climb up Arthur's 
 Seat and see the big town lying below ye. It's a fine sight that, 
 I've heard folk say there's not a finer in the three kingdoms." 
 
 Alison Graham could not at all understand this unwonted com- 
 plaisance on the part of her uncle, but she said little ; she seemed 
 preoccupied. And had he, also, not been so busy with his own 
 affairs, he might have complained of her repeated absences from the 
 house in the afternoon. But he did not notice. He was looking 
 forward to the evening and the renewal of the torture. What was 
 happening in Inverness ? The pining and wasting had lasted now 
 nearly twenty-four hours ; soon there would come the occasion for 
 the driving in of those vengeful knives. 
 
 Just before slipper he thought he would steal into the safe room 
 for a minute and see how the corpse-like image looked after the 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 41 
 
 melting of the previous night. He had not ordered the fire to be 
 lit as yet, and as he had left the window barred, he took a match 
 with him in order to light the candle. He approached the doo* 
 silently and stealthily, as if there were a coffin in the room. 
 
 His fingers trembled as they groped for the handle of the door, 
 though he could scarce have told why ; what was there to harm in 
 a piece of moulded wax ? Inside, the little chamber was quite 
 dark. He felt for the head of the match. And then over there 
 at the window recess he saw something white. His eyes were 
 fascinated ; he went forward ; it was something wavering, blue- 
 white, and spectral in the darkness ; was it on the lid of the iron 
 chest ? A kind of wave of shadow passed over it, and it partly dis- 
 appeared ; the next moment it shone out with an appalling dis- 
 tinctness the likeness of a gallows in gleaming white fire. Terror- 
 stricken, speechless, with palsied hands and frenzied eyeballs, he 
 stood and glared at this awful thing ; and then three shrieks 
 three shrill, sharp shrieks, uttered in rapid succession rang 
 through the silent house, and the old man fell helpless and sense- 
 less to the floor. 
 
 CHAPTEB V. 
 THE BRIDE'S DOWBT. 
 
 WHEN those three shrill screams rang through the house, Alison 
 Graham, who was seated alone in the parlor but apparently not 
 very intent on the work that lay in her lap threw her sewing 
 aside and went swiftly up the stair. When she reached the land- 
 ing the dim moonlight in the passage showed her that the door of 
 a small storeroom there was just being opened ; and she knew 
 that the dark figure issuing from it must be Alec Jameson. She 
 caught him by the arm. 
 
 "Oh, Alec! what has happened ?" she said, in a frightened 
 whisper, " What is it ? What has happened ? " 
 
 " Get a light and see," he answered, hurriedly, but in an under- 
 tone. " Maybe your uncle has had a fit. I'm going down to the 
 shore ; I'll wait for you there." 
 
 He disappeared. She had to return to the parlor for a candle ; 
 but her mind was so bewildered by wild forebodings that she 
 
42 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 seemed as one dazed, and she could scarce light the candle for the 
 shaking of her hand. Had the two men met ? Had a murder 
 been done in the house ? Was there some ghastly object lying 
 there in the saferoom ? And yet Jameson had declared to her 
 that his first object was to keep out of the way of her uncle, and 
 had made the most elaborate precautions for concealing himself in 
 the store-closet. However, she could not reason about it. The 
 three piercing shrieks were a summons. Whatever sight might 
 be awaiting her, to that dreaded saferoom she must go. 
 
 She went quickly up to the stair again, and had just reached the 
 door, when she heard a stirring within. For a moment she 
 paused, as if to summon her courage together ; then she boldly 
 opened the door and entered. The next instant she had uttered a 
 sharp cry of alarm. 
 
 "Uncle, what is it?" 
 
 The old man was struggling to his feet, white-faced, with star- 
 ing eyes, and apparently speechless. He seized her by the hand 
 and clung to her, then he darted a brief, terrified glance back to- 
 ward the iron chest in the recess ; there was nothing of an unu- 
 sual kind visible there.. 
 
 " Ailie Ailie, lass," said he at length, and she felt that he waa 
 trembling like a reed, and was, indeed, like to fall to the floor 
 again, " dinna leave me, just bide here for a minute or two, I've 
 had a kind o' wakeness come o'er me, but I'll be all right in a min- 
 ute " 
 
 He stopped for want of breath. 
 
 "I'll go and fetch you something, uncle," said she, "some 
 brandy " 
 
 " Ay, ay, brandy brandy," he managed to stammer out. 
 
 " Then sit down for a moment, uncle, and I'll bring it. Here, 
 let me get you the chair " 
 
 " No, no, dinna leave me, Ailie, lass no, no wait a minute 
 and I'll gang wi' ye ; ay, now, help me a bit, we'll get down to the 
 parlor; there, now, that's a good lass." 
 
 She gave him what help she could, while she held the candle 
 aloft with her other hand ; and in this way they came down to the 
 parlor, where he sank helplessly into an arm-chair. 
 
 "The brandy, now, Ailie ; it's a kind of wakeness that came o'ei 
 me there's a good lass." 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 43 
 
 For she had quickly gone to the cupboard and poured some 
 brandy into a tumbler and brought it to him. With a shaking 
 hand he managed to raise it to his lips and take a gulp of it. 
 At the same moment there was a noise without in the passage a 
 servant lass was bringing along the things for supper. 
 
 "No, no," he said, and he held up his hand as if to forbid her 
 entrance. "Go and tell her, Ailie, not to come in here not yet 
 later on." 
 
 Alison went to explain to the girl that her uncle was not yet 
 ready for his supper ; and while she was gone he kept muttering 
 to himself. 
 
 " They're against me they're against me and the wise woman 
 spoke of a gallows, too what has angered them ? but there's an 
 end of that now." 
 
 Alison returned ; and, though she had no great cause to testify 
 solicitude about her uncle whose treatment of her had been of 
 the harshest still he was in need of help and care, and woman- 
 like, she busied herself about him, and got a pillow for his head, 
 and made a hundred little suggestions for his comfort. 
 
 " I've been an ill man, Ailie," he said, though it almost seemed 
 to her that he was talking to himself, so absent were his eyes. 
 " I've done wrong and harm ; but surely the worst sinner will find 
 mercy and peace if he repents. There's aye that. Seek and ye 
 shall find. The door is aye open. The Lord is merciful ay, 
 even to. the worst. Ailie, lass, bring over the big Bible to the 
 table, and read me the Twenty-third Psalm there's a good lass." 
 
 " But will I not send for the doctor, uncle ? " she said, quickly ; 
 for this calling for religious consolation startled her. 
 
 ' ' No, no ; there's the doctor I want peace and mercy peace 
 and grace-^the door's aye open." 
 
 So she went 'and got the Bible, and laid it on the table ; and 
 proceeded to read the Psalm that he wanted. And as she read he 
 followed her, apparently repeating phrases from time to time ; 
 with little comments of his own : 
 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd ay, that's right, the Lord can save : 
 what for would anyone go away from Him ? . . . Yea, though 
 I walk through the valley of the shadow of death no terrors no ter- 
 rors now. I would be on the safe side on the Lord's side and 
 then who can harm ? . . . Thou preparest a table, before w$ 
 
44 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 ay, indeed, it's the Lord's side that's the safe side ; no harm can 
 come then ; safety only, and peace, and a quate mind. . . . 1 
 trill dwell in the house of the Lord forever ay, that's right. I'm 
 obliged to ye. Ailie, lass, ye may shut the book now ; in the 
 house of the Lord forever, that's where there's safety, that's the 
 safe side, in the house of the Lord forever. " 
 
 When she had shut the big Bible and put it back in its place, 
 she returned to him, anxious to do what she could for him ; and 
 indeed those mumbled remarks had caused her some concern, for 
 they sounded like the utterance of one whose mind had been 
 unhinged. And yet her uncle was evidently recovering his ordi- 
 nary look ; and, not only that, but he had some thought to bestow 
 upon her. He would have her call to the servant to bring supper 
 now ; and it was not for himself, it was for her. Why should she 
 be kept hungry merely because a weakness had come over him, 
 and he had sunk fainting to the floor for a minute or two ? Nay, 
 he insisted. Alison, who was far more solicitous about him than 
 he had any right to expect, would have dismissed all notions 
 about supper but that he would not be denied ; so the girl was 
 summoned and the table laid. During that time the old farmer 
 remained profoundly silent and thoughtful. When the girl had 
 gone he spoke. 
 
 " Ailie, lass," said he, in a low voice as if he feared some one 
 might be listening without "tell me now, do you happen to be 
 aware o' Alec Jameson's address in Inverness ? " 
 
 She was startled, and looked at him as if to find out what he 
 meant by such a question ; but his eyes were bent on the floor. 
 
 " Yes, uncle," she answered. 
 
 "Well, now, lass," he said, but still not regarding her, "after 
 ye've finished wi' your supper, ye'll jist sit down and write him a 
 bit note, bidding him to come through to Fasslie. It's a bad thing 
 to have quarrelling a bad thing ; it's better to be friendly ; and 
 you jist tell him that if he'll come through here, we'll see if some- 
 thing cannot be done to put us a' on friendly terms. Ay, ay ; and 
 just in case he should have gone to Nairn, to see his mother, send 
 him a bit note there too ; it's all the one writing, and no great 
 trouble." 
 
 " Indeed, uncle, it is not any trouble I would spare to bring you 
 and him together," she said, but she was entirely bewildered, She 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 45 
 
 could not understand this sudden change of front, nor yet the 
 singular events of that evening. 
 
 " Ay, and if he is not well enough to come," the old man con- 
 tinued, cautiously, "if anything is the matter with him, and he 
 canna come through to Fasslie, then ye'll just tell him that we 
 would like to make friends all the same, and he is to look forward 
 to that when he gets better, and that there's none wish him sooner 
 well again than the folk at Fasslie." 
 
 "But he's not ill at all, uncle," Alison exclaimed. 
 
 " How ken ye that?" said he, quickly. 
 
 " Because -" said she, and then she stopped and stammered, 
 and it was well that he did not notice her confusion. " Because 
 he would have let me know oh, I am sure he is not ill at all. I 
 am sure of that." 
 
 The old man relapsed into silence, and she went on with her 
 supper. When she had finished she asked him whether she should 
 summon the lasses for family worship, or whether he would not 
 omit that on this evening, seeing that he was not so well. But 
 the old farmer would not hear of any such omission ; the girls 
 came in ; the big Bible was opened, and he began the reading. 
 
 It was the twenty -fourth chapter of the Book of Numbers he had 
 to read, and he seemed singularly distraught and absent as he be- 
 gan : "And when Balaam saw that it pleased the Lord to bless 
 Israel, he went not, as at other times, to seek for enchantments, 
 but he set his face toward the wilderness." Nay, now and again 
 he would stop and repeat a phrase, as if pondering over the appli- 
 cation of it to his own case ; and especially he did so when ho 
 came to " Blessed is he that blesseth thee." Alison could not but 
 observe that her uncle was very strange in his manner, and more 
 than ever was she bewildered as to what had happened during the 
 evening ; but she knew that an explanation would soon be forth- 
 coming as soon as she could slip away from the house and seek 
 out her lover, who was waiting for her down by the shore. 
 
 That opportunity arrived directly ; for when family worship was 
 over her uncle bade her go away and write the two letters, charg- 
 ing her to make them as friendly as possible. 
 
 Instead of going to her own little room, she merely drew a shawl 
 around her head and shoulders, opened the front door quietly and 
 stole out into the night. 
 
46 THE WISE WOMEX OF IN VEEN I. 
 
 The sea was much quieter now than it had been during the past 
 few days, though still a murmurous noise told of the regular fall 
 and recoil of the waves ; and if the moonlight was scarcely so 
 strong as it had been, it was still clear enough to lighten up this 
 solitary world of shore and water and solemn over-arching sky. 
 She walked quickly ; she could hear even her light footfalls in the 
 prevailing silence that the monotonous wash of the waves hardly 
 seemed to break. But by-and-by she was nearer down to the sea. 
 Then she began to look around her. She heard her name whis- 
 pered. The next moment she was in a sheltered nook among the 
 rocks, with her sweetheart's arms enfolding her. 
 
 " Oh, Alec, tell me what it is all about it is all so strange, so 
 strange," she said, as she freed herself from the encumbering 
 shawl so that she could nestle close to him. " Do you know that 
 my uncle thinks you have been ill ? " 
 
 " It's no fault of his that I am not," he said, grimly. 
 
 "Oh, but you must not speak like that any more," said she, 
 earnestly. "It is to be all different now. He is most anxious to 
 be friends with you." 
 
 "What, already?" 
 
 " At this very moment he thinks I am writing to you, bidding 
 you come to Fasslie ; and there's to be no more quarrelling, but 
 everything friendly and well. And what has made the change, 
 Alec ? What has happened ? Tell me quick, dear, for I must get 
 back to my uncle." 
 
 " Is he ill after the fright ? " the young sailor asked and there 
 was a curious smile on his face. 
 
 " Not so ill as he was oh, no ; we had the family worship, just 
 as usual. But he has been greatly disturbed. Maybe the faint- 
 ing fit frightened him ; now, tell me, Alec, what you wanted to be 
 in the house for." 
 
 " But it's a long stoiy, Ailie, my dear " 
 
 " He'll no miss me for a while," said she, " f or I had two letters 
 to write and he was anxious they should be very, very friendly, 
 and bring you to Fasslie just at once." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " That's a change in the weather," said he. " However, I'll 
 tell how it all came about. Your uncle has been trying to mur- 
 der me." 
 
TEE WISE WOVI-JX OF INVERNESS. 47 
 
 " Alec ! " she exclaimed, and she tried to withdraw herself from 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, but it's true, Ailie, darling," said he, coolly. "First he 
 thought to fell me ; but I bid him beware of what would happen ; 
 then he brought out a horsewhip, but I broke that ; then he spoke 
 about the collies, but what was the use of that when you were by 
 me ; and so, as he couldna get at me any other way, what more 
 natural than that he should try if a witch could help him ! Ailie, 
 my dear, your uncle's a queer man ; surely, he was born and 
 brought up in Shetland ; why, there's not an ignorant servant lass 
 nor a half-witted sailor has such a faith in magic and witchcraft, 
 if all I hear be true. Ay, and it is true ; and what has happened 
 this night is a proof o't. Would yon believe it, then your uncle 
 went into Inverness to get hold of some witch or -spey wife there 
 that would work a mischief on me ; and, as good luck would have 
 it, he happened on two poor old bodies called Lissom, that get a 
 sixpence or a shilling now and again by telling fortunes. I'm told 
 that it's only of late years they've taken to such tricks ; when 
 my mother knew them in Nairn they were respectable, hard-work- 
 ing folk just like others ; but as they grew old they got less work ; 
 and I suppose the temptation of picking up a little money easily 
 in that way was too much for them ; so that now when a sailor- 
 lad wants to know if his lass will bide true to him, he just slips 
 round to the wise women, and they bid him look through a piece 
 of crystal or some nonsense of that kind, and then he comes on 
 board with a light heart. Ay, and that old Nance Lissom is a 
 sharp one ; she led your uncle on from one thing to another, 
 and got hold of the whole story, and all the time she was say- 
 ing to herself : ' This will be news for Mrs. Jameson, and per- 
 haps her laddie will gain by it.' As for old Nancy," the young 
 sailor continued, with a laugh, " five pounds was what she got 
 and a mighty windfall it was for them, I'm thinking but they 
 were to get ever so much more as soon as they managed to kill me, 
 so I'm much obliged to them for staying their hand." 
 
 " But what do you mean, Alec kill you? " the girl exclaimed. 
 
 "Why, she pretended she could waste me with a sickness by 
 melting a wax image before a fire ; and she gave your uncle the 
 image, and told him what to do, and last night he was to begin." 
 
 Alison uttered a little cry. There flashed into her memory the 
 
48 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 
 lighting of the fire of the previous evening. Could this terrible 
 
 tale be true ! Had her uncle really been plotting against the life 
 of her lover ! 
 
 " Ay, she is a sharp one, that old Nancy Lissom," he continued, 
 in his matter-of-fact way. " The very first thing the next morning 
 she sent tier sister to my mother to find out where I was ; and 
 then I went back with her ; and between them they made out a 
 fine plan at least, I'm thinking it has worked veiy well so far, 
 Ailie, and I think that neither you nor me will ever have a word 
 to say against spey -wives as long as we live. I need not tell you 
 how it was all arranged ; for ye must be getting back to the house 
 if your uncle found out I was in the neighborhood he might 
 suspect ; but this I will tell you, that when he went into the safe- 
 room this evening he saw something he will not forget in a hurry. 
 There was a gallows painted in white fire on the lid of the iron 
 chest. "Was not that a good warning ? Faith, it was a narrow 
 squeak for me, for I had just time to bolt into the store closet 
 when I heard his foot on the stairs ; ay, and no sooner was I in 
 than the phosphorus bottle fell from my hand and I thought he 
 would have heard the rattle of it, but I suppose he did not. And 
 so he wants to be friends wi' me ? Well, I'm willing to let bygones 
 be bygones. When I said to old Nancy Lissom, ' but if I put that 
 phosphorus gallows on the iron chest I may frighten the old man 
 out of his senses,' she says directly, 'Well, then, he would have 
 murdered you if he could.' So it's quits, as far as I am minded. 
 Now, Ailie, dear, I would like to stand here talking to you the 
 whole night through, but we must not run any risk. He must not 
 know I am here " 
 
 " But you will stay on at the keeper's cottage, Alec," she said, 
 "until there's time for the letters to go to Inverness and for you 
 to come back ? Of course, you will do that, when he is so anxious 
 to see you. And to-morrow forenoon, about eleven, be at the 
 corner of the fir plantation, and I will come and tell you how 
 things are going. Good night, good night." 
 
 They parted, and she hastened back to the house. She found 
 that the old farmer had not noticed her absence ; he had drawn 
 the arm-chair in to the table, and was poring over the family 
 
 Bible, occasionally repeating a verse aloud " Thy word is a 
 
 lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. . . . The wicked 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 49 
 
 have laid a snare for me ; yet 1 erred not from thy precepts. . . . 
 I have inclined mine heart to perform thy statutes alway, even unto 
 the end." And when lie ceased lie told Alison that on reflection 
 his conscience would not allow him to touch the little keg of smug- 
 gled whiskey that had been secretly sent him from the "Black 
 bothy " (it was really a bribe ; for the whereabouts of the illicit 
 still was well known to the shepherds), but that if it was presented 
 to Mr. Maclnroy (the minister of the parish) there would be a kind 
 of sanctifying it to good uses ; consequently he bade Alison see 
 that the little cask was despatched to the manse on the following 
 morning, with a message of compliments ; for Mr. Maclnroy was a 
 good man, and respected, and it behoved all decent people to do 
 what they could for the comfort and well-being of a minister of 
 the gospel. After that he counselled Alison to be a good girl, and 
 said that peace and prosperity came to those who walked in straight 
 and upright ways ; and then, after she had persuaded him to have 
 a little supper, and also (without any persuasion) a stiff tumbler of 
 whiskey and water, he again recommended her to walk in the 
 paths of mercy and justice and loving kindness to all mankind, 
 and got him away to bed. 
 
 Well, when sufficient time had been allowed to elapse for the 
 arrival of the letters in Inverness and Nairn, and for the return of 
 the proper answer, Alec Jameson made his appearance ; and very 
 much surprised he appeared to be at the summons, but humble, 
 and civil, and courteous withal. After one sharp, brief glance, 
 the old man rather kept his eyes away from him ; but that single 
 glance had satisfied the farmer that no mischief at all had been 
 wrought by the charm. Had the unseen powers been mocking 
 him, then, or luring him on to his doom ? Anyway, that was all 
 over; he would keep to the straight path; whatever amends had 
 to be made, he would make now ; and then, with his hands washed 
 clean of Alison's affairs, how could anyone in the future harm him, 
 above ground or under ground, in the water, or above the sky ? 
 
 Alison, her uncle, and Alec Jameson were in the parlor. 
 
 "It's but a natural thing for young. folk to think of getting 
 married," said the farmer, " and I've changed my mind ; I'll no* 
 stand in your way any longer. And then there's another thing : 
 When Alison leaves the farm she maun take wi' her her share ; 
 that's but right ; I want to be just and fair to everyone, man or 
 3 
 
50 THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 
 
 woman, old or young. It's no for me to say how much it is ; for 
 I've worked hard for her sake and my own ; but we'll have the 
 lawyers draw out an account, and whatever is hers she'll have. 
 Are ye satisfied ? " 
 
 He looked up at the young man. 
 
 " It was not after Alison's money that I ever came to Fasslie," 
 Alec Jameson said. 
 
 " But are ye satisfied ? " 
 
 "I would take Alison without a penny, if that was her condi- 
 tion," he said. 
 
 " But are ye satisfied ? " the old man insisted. 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes. On behalf of Alison I cannot but say that is a fair 
 offer." 
 
 " For this is what I want to say," the old farmer continued 
 " that when Ailie has got eveiy penny that is strictly hers, weel, 
 then, a young lass should hae a little bit extra to spend on hersel' 
 when she's going to get married, and over and above what the 
 lawyers give I mysel' will give her fifty pounds fifty pounds will 
 I give her. For what? Just to show that there's nae ill-feeling 
 between me and her, or the man she's going to marry, or any other 
 human crayture." 
 
 Of course they professed themselves profoundly grateful. It 
 was none of their business to probe deeps of human motives- 
 though they may have had a little bit of a guess as to the origin 
 of this unwonted generosity. Besides, the fifty pounds would 
 do something to beautify the little cottage just outside Inver- 
 ness that these two had talked off from time to time, but with 
 scant notion that it was to be so soon in their possession. 
 
 And a very pretty cottage it is, too, at this moment ; and if you 
 happen to be driving by you may catch a glimpse of Alison Gra- 
 hamor rather, Mrs. Jameson, for such has been her state and 
 title these three or four years or more at work trimming and 
 pruning in the "back garden, while a small, bullet-headed boy is 
 tumbling about near her among the gooseberry bushes, and doing 
 what mischief his tiny fists can. The fifty pounds were carefully 
 expended, but as for the other money coming to Alison, that has 
 not been touched ; on the contrary, it has been added to, for Cap- 
 tain Jameson's fifth share has so far been profitable. Alison has 
 gone one or two voyages in theJPrincess Mary ; but she is not par- 
 
THE WISE WOMEN OF INVERNESS. 51 
 
 ticularly fond of it ; with two children to look after the time does 
 not hang heavily on her hands. She has her holiday time when 
 Alec Jameson comes home from sea; and they have plenty of 
 friends in Inverness ; though she has not yet mustered up courage 
 enough to accept her husband's jocular invitation that she should 
 go and see the two wise women. She prefers to leave them alone. 
 As for old Robert Graham, he is an elder now. The shrunken wax 
 effigy he buried at cock-crow on a Sabbath morning, when, as every 
 one knows, charms and incantations are powerless to harm ; the 
 rest of the day he devoted to reading aloud from the family Bible. 
 Whether the mysterious and unnamed powers are still unfriendly, 
 or are content to let bygones be bygones, he cannot judge ; at all 
 events, he would cherish no ill-will against them ; perhaps they 
 only resented some touch of green being left on the big iron chest. 
 But he never goes into the safe-room now after the sun has sunk 
 behind the western hills. 
 
 THK KKD. 
 
UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIL 
 
 A 000784710 6