TODDIE
 
 0T CMJF, M**AWY. 10*
 
 \ : A\
 
 TODDIE 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A WOMAN HATER 
 
 AUTHOR OF FORBIDDEN GKOUND, ETC., ETC. 
 
 FRONTISPIECE BY 
 R. G. VOSBURGH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 
 1911
 
 Copyright, 1911, by 
 THE CENTURY Co. 
 
 Published September, 1911
 
 TODDIE
 
 TODDIE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HAVE you ever stood in the rain and the dark- 
 ness, fearfully anticipating a cook, when 
 every inch of your person yearned for a familiar cor- 
 ner in a hopelessly distant bar? 
 
 If you have then you can sympathize with Toddie. 
 
 As Toddie stood there waiting for his knock to be 
 answered and more than half inclined to run away, 
 the little caddie recalled his master's words : " Go 
 round to the kitchen, Toddie, dry yourself at the fire, 
 and Devina will give you tea." 
 
 The Major had meant kindly no doubt, but he 
 had been prompted thereto by his companion. Why 
 had she joined them? It was all the fault of the 
 mist. Had she not lost her way they would still 
 have been practising approach shots untroubled by 
 women. And now his master had been beguiled in 
 at the front door, and he, Toddie, had been per- 
 emptorily ordered to the back, lured by the same in- 
 sidious bait warmth and tea. 
 
 3
 
 TODDIE 
 
 A not unwelcome proposal to wet and thirsty men, 
 it might be supposed; but, whatever the master's 
 feelings upon the subject, the caddie at all events 
 viewed it with dark suspicion from which the 
 reader may infer that Toddie was that unnatural and 
 misguided creature, a woman hater. 
 
 He knocked again, but barely had his wet and be- 
 numbed knuckles come into contact with the door 
 than the latter opened unexpectedly. A fierce light 
 leaped out, a disconcerting brightness that appeared 
 to take an inhuman pleasure in drawing attention to 
 his battered cap, his grimy muffler, his out-at-elbows 
 jacket, his frayed and sodden trousers, and his wet 
 and anxious face. 
 
 Within, but peering outwards through the nar- 
 now slit, was a female in black, speechless, forbid- 
 ding. Toddie could see her cap. His courage fled. 
 
 Wetting his lips with his tongue, he stared help- 
 lessly at the apparition. His brain, working uncon- 
 sciously along old and professional grooves, searched 
 for anything likely to offer assistance. 
 
 " Be up," suggested itself, but was instantly and 
 indignantly repudiated. Be up, indeed; he was too 
 near her as it was! 
 
 " Come in," she said. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " Come in," she repeated. As she spoke, she 
 opened the door slowly and grudgingly.
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Once inside, his eyes blinked weakly at the cheery 
 fire, at the spotless table, at the dresser with its rows 
 of winking plates, and at the face of Devina. The 
 last mentioned swept all else from his mind. To use 
 his own words whispered later in husky confidence 
 to Bob " It just gripped ye. Man, Bob, it just 
 put the fear o' death on ye." 
 
 Yet it was by no means an unpleasant countenance, 
 for the dark eyes were more indicative of sadness 
 than austerity, and the mouth, if stern, had been 
 known to soften on occasions to a very tender 
 smile. 
 
 For the moment, however, its expression was far 
 from reassuring; and, truth to tell, had Toddie been 
 a recently imported cannibal, and had Devina been 
 requested to give him tea, she could not have under- 
 taken the task with more unfeigned reluctance. 
 
 " What a mess 1 " she ejaculated with high disap- 
 probation, and not without reason, for a pool of con- 
 siderable dimensions was rapidly transforming Tod- 
 die into an island. 
 
 " I canna help it," said the culprit sulkily. 
 
 " Here stand still, till I get a cloth to ye." 
 
 She was back in a moment. Any one with half an 
 eye could see that she was a born worker. In a 
 twinkling Toddie stood upon dry ground. 
 
 " Take off yer boots," was her next remark. 
 
 Toddie frowned, opened his mouth to refuse, then 
 5
 
 TODDIE 
 
 mechanically, as one under an evil spell, began to 
 fumble at the knots. 
 
 Ruthlessly exposed, the holes in his socks protested 
 against the indignity. 
 
 Grimly Devina surveyed her guest. Of unusual 
 height, she looked down upon him from an altitude 
 that overawed him. Her handsome face still ex- 
 pressed disapproval. 
 
 " Give me yer coat," she commanded. 
 
 " Bob," said Toddie later, with awful solemnity, 
 " Bob, ye won't believe me, an' I 'm not blamin' ye, 
 but it 's God's truth the woman took the verra coat 
 off ma back ; an' I was in sair fear she would ask for 
 ma breeks too." 
 
 Not till the dripping garment had been hung up 
 to dry, and a semi-clad and bewildered Toddie had 
 been planted close to the fire, did the enemy turn her 
 attention to the rites of hospitality. The expedi- 
 tious way that tea made its appearance was not the 
 least among the wonders of the night. 
 
 " Two lumps ? " questioned Devina severely. 
 
 " Three," muttered Toddie. 
 
 He took the cup from her and nervously stirred 
 the contents with the handle of the butter-knife, till, 
 encountering her eye, he hastily substituted a 
 spoon. 
 
 The warmth of tea, combined with the heat of the 
 fire, thawed the cold out of his joints. Yet physical 
 
 6
 
 TODDIE 
 
 well-being failed to counteract mental anxiety. He 
 must be on his guard, he told himself, for you never 
 could tell what a woman would be at next. " Black," 
 he criticized, stealing furtive glances at his hostess. 
 " How comes it she 's wearin' black on a week-day ? 
 Maybe somebody 's dead? " Her neatness and clean- 
 ness made him vaguely uncomfortable. And as for 
 the genteel way she munched her toast ! " Weel, 
 there was nae word for it." Her figure, too, made 
 him ill at ease. Not it alone, but the masses of dark 
 hair coiled behind her shapely head, the turn of her 
 neck when she faced the fire, even the way she poured 
 out tea all were alarmingly feminine. 
 
 " What 's your name ? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 At the answer she actually laughed. It was won- 
 derful how a laugh became her. 
 
 " Toddie? " she repeated. " That 's a drink ! " 
 
 " Ye may say that, Devina," he guffawed, under 
 the influence of this stimulating idea. 
 
 Swiftly her face darkened. 
 
 "Who gave you permeesion to call me Devina?" 
 she demanded. Without waiting for an answer, she 
 swept on: 
 
 " Ma name 's Miss Greig, as I would have ye know ; 
 and I allow no man to miscall me." 
 
 The awkward silence that ensued was broken only 
 by the fire. It was marvelous how it managed to re- 
 tain its heat. 
 
 7
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Still suffering from extreme nervousness Toddie 
 had thoughts of spitting, but refrained. Devina 
 likewise was far from being herself; for, producing 
 a work-basket with an assumption of indifference, 
 she began to inspect an unfinished garment, then, 
 suddenly conscious of the presence of a man, ban- 
 ished it in confusion. 
 
 For a while they both sat quite still and if the 
 truth were known, each longed for the other to be 
 gone. Gradually Toddie's thoughts wandered to the 
 subject that preoccupied his mind his master, now 
 presumably conducting a similar campaign in the 
 drawing-room. Were they not allies, single men, 
 confronting the same peril? Indeed had it not been 
 for this conviction, and the belief that by sharing 
 his master's danger he was to some extent supporting 
 him, Toddie would have been by no means so easily 
 beguiled into a kitchen. 
 
 Regarding his employer's ultimate safety he felt 
 no anxiety. Even the Major's audible pleasure when 
 meeting the lady in the mist, his altered voice, his 
 words, betraying a refinement of language unknown 
 to golf, his alacrity in accompanying her had failed 
 to alarm him, for he attributed all to the artificial 
 polish of the upper classes. 
 
 Did he not know the Major? Had not his master 
 eluded the toils of matrimony for forty years? Were 
 not his days passed at golf and his evenings at the 
 
 8
 
 TODDIE 
 
 club? This visit was plainly an accident. No. 
 There was no cause for anxiety. 
 
 His attention turned to his companion. She was 
 leaning forward, her chin sunk to the palm of her 
 hand, her eyes fixed on the fire. An expression of 
 somber melancholy darkened her face. 
 
 "Greig?" muttered Toddie thoughtfully. "I 
 mind the name. You '11 no' be the daughter of Geor- 
 die Greig, him we called Skipper, drowned in the 
 harbor a matter o' five year back? " 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " I 'm sorry," he murmured, for her tone made 
 him feel that he had stumbled unwarrantably upon 
 a private and enduring grief. 
 
 " You '11 be a caddie? " she said. 
 
 " Just that." 
 
 " A hard life," she mused, and for the moment her 
 voice held unaccountable sympathy. 
 
 " Oh, betwixt an' between," said Toddie, instinct- 
 ively suspicious of all female compassion. 
 
 " It 's no life for an able-bodied man," she re- 
 sumed, with a fresh access of gruffness. " I 'd rather 
 break stones upon the road. Ye look strong, an' 
 ye 're not that old ; can ye no' find onythin' better to 
 do than runnin' after a silly ball ? " 
 
 Toddie rubbed his hands up and down his trouser- 
 legs. " It 's meat and drink to me," he growled in 
 self-defense.
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " More drink than meat, I '11 be bound." 
 
 A ghost of a twinkle crept into Toddie's eyes, but 
 he banished it in an access of caution. 
 
 " You '11 be a cook? " he suggested, then smiled, for 
 he considered this adroit change of subject " awful 
 clever." 
 
 " I was, but now I 'm the maid." 
 
 Toddie pursed his lips. His knowledge of maids 
 was limited to occasional glimpses of the species seen 
 between the bars of area railings. They had always 
 filled him with lively apprehension. 
 
 " Where where are the ithers ? " he questioned, 
 peering round him nervously. 
 
 " Ye '11 not find them there. That 's the larder. 
 Cook 's gone to see her mither ; and Jessie 's away 
 gallivantin'." 
 
 "And you sit here alone?" 
 
 " Not as a rule. I 'm generally up the stair." 
 
 He stole a glance at her, and finding her gazing 
 into the fire, was emboldened to inspect her with a 
 fearful and furtive curiosity. 
 
 " What 's the difference between a maid and a 
 cook? " he blurted suddenly. 
 
 "Are you for askin' riddles?" she inquired scath- 
 ingly. 
 
 " No, no ; I thought " 
 
 "Weel, can ye no' speak? What did you 
 think? " 
 
 10
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I thought all women were maids till till they 
 married." 
 
 She cast a look of unutterable contempt at his in- 
 nocent and serious countenance, then turned away. 
 
 " Did ye never hear tell o' a lady's maid? " she 
 asked abruptly. 
 
 Toddie pondered, then brightened. 
 
 " I 've heard o' an auld maid," he said hopefully. 
 
 What induced the woman to ejaculate " Impi- 
 dence ! " Toddie could never understand. The inci- 
 dent, though trivial, added to his nervousness. 
 
 " What d' ye come here for, wastin' my time? " 
 she demanded, after a lengthy pause. No intentional 
 rudeness lurked in the interrogation. Devina spoke 
 in all simplicity, as one stating a fact. 
 
 " I was told to come," he answered with resigna- 
 tion. 
 
 "Who told ye?" 
 
 " The Major and her." 
 
 "Miss Charity?" 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 Devina's face became thoughtful. 
 
 " She told me, too. I wonder at her," she said 
 slowly. 
 
 " And I wonder at him," pronounced Toddie with 
 decision. 
 
 Then little by little they drifted into desultory 
 conversation prompted thereto by a melancholy ac- 
 
 11
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ceptation of the inevitable rather than by motives 
 of sociability. 
 
 " Ah, but he 's a fine schollard," cried Toddie, 
 launching complacently upon a topic dear to his 
 heart. " It 's just amazin' how much he knows. 
 Book learnin' 's a queer thing." Here he passed a 
 thoughtful hand over his untidy hair. " I some- 
 times think it depends on the size o' a man's head. 
 A grand player, too ; we won the Jubilee Vase the- 
 gither, so we did. An' kind see here " he 
 reached out for his boots, " these were his once 
 London made, no less. A wee thing worn in the 
 soles but ah 1 there 's a bonnie pair of uppers for 
 ye!" 
 
 He broke off; for, despite his genuine and whole- 
 hearted enthusiasm, he was disconcerted by this grim 
 and silent woman who appeared to look through and 
 through him with her somber, observant eyes. She 
 plainly took no interest in boots. She did not even 
 seem to see them ! This amazing want of apprecia- 
 tion, casting as it did an aspersion upon the former 
 property of his master, roused Toddie into mild re- 
 sentment. With a desire to impress her at all costs, 
 he continued: 
 
 " Him an' me has walked the links thegither five 
 year come Martinmas, wet or fine, on or off, aye, 
 ever since he was minded to give heathen countries 
 the go-by and live respectable in his native land. I 
 
 12
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tell ye, he 's rich." He leaned over the table to- 
 wards her, his eyes big with importance. " Oh, I 've 
 seen his room, two rooms, no less. Ye dinna seem 
 partial to boots, but his neckties I Weel, I wish ye 
 could see them; ye just couldna help being stag- 
 gered." 
 
 " I 'm not carin'." 
 
 Toddie flushed. The deep, contemptuous voice 
 broke rudely upon his paean of praise. It contin- 
 ued: 
 
 "What do I care for yer Major? What's he 
 come here for; answer me that, you that brought 
 him?" 
 
 " Me I Me that brought him ! " 
 
 " Aye, you. Did he not come here with you the day? 
 An' the ither days, if ye didna bring him ye knew 
 fine where he was." 
 
 " Ither days! " he ejaculated in sudden consterna- 
 tion. " Here! I didna know." 
 
 " Weel, ye should ha' known, and that 's as bad. 
 D' ye hear? " Her voice rang loud and hard. " I 
 mistrust it." 
 
 He could only stare at her, speechless. 
 
 " An' as for yer flatterin' tongue, I dinna believe 
 a word ye 're sayin'. You men are all alike. / 
 know ! Ye tell lies about each other as easy as 
 winkin'. Kind, is he ! Let him keep his kindness out 
 of our drawing-room. And more ye think be- 
 
 13
 
 TODDIE 
 
 cause I say little I canna see ! Ye 're wrong. I see 
 fine. Major, say you! What's he anyway com- 
 pared to my Miss Charity ? Him!" She snapped her 
 fingers in contempt. " Not fit to clean her boots. 
 I tell ye once for all there 's not a finer dressed leddy 
 in the town, no, nor a better, nor a bonnier, nor a 
 kinder in all Scotland." 
 
 " I 'm not denyin' it ! " 
 
 She gave vent to a short and scornful laugh. 
 
 " Denyin' it ! I should think not indeed ! Drink- 
 ing her good two-shilling tea and denyin' it! Ma 
 word ! I 'd have ye out of her kitchen in a minute." 
 
 Before Toddie could recover, a peculiar and nasal 
 sound made itself heard. His face brightened. 
 
 " What 's that? " said Devina suspiciously. " Was 
 that you? " 
 
 "Na. That's Bob." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Just Bob. He 's come for me. I '11 have to 
 go. Ye see Bob will nose me oot o' ony house in 
 the town. There's not anither dog in St. Andrews 
 to beat him at smells. Here, keep quiet. I 'm 
 comin'." 
 
 When his boot 5 were on he looked at her doubt- 
 fully. She returned his look with a steady stare, not 
 bold, but full of a gloomy and brooding antagonism. 
 Ha faced her for a moment, breathed hard like a 
 man who would fain speak but is at a loss for words, 
 
 14
 
 TODDIE 
 
 then bidding her good night, marched hastily to the 
 door. 
 
 As she remained seated by the fire she heard frantic 
 yelps of delight mingling with : " Doon, Bob, ye 
 auld deevil ! That 's no way to behave. Keep doon, 
 ye wee rascal ! Man, but ye 're wet ! Come on." 
 
 Then the door closed and she was left alone.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A DAY of rain steady, hopeless rain fall- 
 ing from a sky that domed land and sea like 
 a vast leaden extinguisher. A dun yellow light, like 
 the dawn of some unearthly day, replaced the dark- 
 ness of night with a wan and sinister gloom through 
 which all things the club-house, the two big ho- 
 tels, the rows of gray houses, the deserted links and 
 the sea, heaving under a northerly swell, showed as 
 so many misty phantoms. Water everywhere. It 
 dripped from the roofs, it gushed down the gutters, 
 it lay in pools in every depression of the links, it sat- 
 urated the heavy gravel opposite the club-house and 
 squelched under the heavy boots of the hall-porter 
 as he forsook the shelter of the porch in order to 
 cast a gloomy eye at the weather. 
 
 The big clock that decorated the wall of the club- 
 house pointed to eight, yet despite the matutinal 
 hour and the hopeless character of the day, several 
 men might have been seen within the caddie shelter. 
 It was a bare and cheerless building. The boards 
 that composed the floor were worn and dirty. 
 
 A single bench ran round the interior, the wood- 
 16
 
 TODDIE 
 
 work of which was polished by continual friction. 
 An iron heat radiator stood at one end, but as it had 
 not been lighted, its ugliness but emphasized the 
 cheerless character of the scene. Three windows and 
 a door, usually open, gave light to those within. 
 Two of the former looked out on to the restricted 
 area where the caddies were wont to march to and fro 
 in fair weather the third commanded the club- 
 house. A small inner opening large enough for a 
 man's head and shoulders, communicated with the 
 caddie-master's box. 
 
 Upon the occasion in question, the air within this 
 building was heavy with moisture, chill with wintry 
 cold, acrid with the faint odor of decaying seaweed, 
 and unpleasantly suggestive of musty and saturated 
 clothing. 
 
 Five men waited here for the employers who never 
 came waited with what patience and hopefulness 
 they could summon to their aid. One, well stricken 
 with years, was seated on the bench. The water 
 dripped from his threadbare coat; it glistened on his 
 thin and wrinkled face, but he appeared unconscious 
 of it. With knees close together, back bent nearly 
 double, head sunk forward on his chest, and blue 
 hands limp and pendant by his side he stared out- 
 wards at the driving rain with an air of apathetic 
 vacuity. Another, known as " daft Willy " stood 
 near the door, a vacant smile on his long, expression-
 
 TODDIE 
 
 less face. The other three, stout fellows enough, 
 strolled up and down, shuffling their feet upon the 
 sodden boards, pausing occasionally to gaze out of 
 the streaming window-panes, to expectorate, and to 
 mutter curses at the weather. 
 
 " It 's on for the day," growled Murdock a 
 thick-set man with a bull-neck. "And a mighty 
 poor chance of a round for us." 
 
 " Some plays in the rain," quavered the old man 
 on the bench in a voice that belied the apparent hope- 
 fulness of the remark. 
 
 "Very few, Tarn," said a bearded giant, known 
 as big McPhee, filling a clay pipe. " I wish I 'd 
 stopped in ma bed. Dang these matches ; a body 's 
 boots are that wet they winna strike at all." 
 
 " There 's Mr. Macdonald," observed Murdoch. 
 
 "Where?" questioned Hunter. "Aye, so it is. 
 Ah, he '11 no' be playin' the day ; see to his mackin- 
 tosh, it 's sittin' by the club fire he '11 be after." 
 
 " A fire 's a fine thing," said Tarn wistfully, but no 
 one paid him attention. For some time there was a 
 mournful silence. McPhee, who had at last man- 
 aged to light his pipe, puffed energetically. The 
 reek of the coarse tobacco permeated the damp chilly 
 air, floated through the shelter and found its way 
 through the open door. The drip of the rain kept 
 up a monotonous accompaniment to the faint and 
 far-off moaning of the sea. The old man, his eyes 
 
 18
 
 TODDIE 
 
 closed, relapsed into a state of somnolent indiffer- 
 ence. The half-witted lad continued to smile va- 
 cantly at his hands. In his open mouth with its 
 weak pendulous lips the few discolored teeth stood 
 out like fragments. 
 
 " Here 's Toddie," cried Murdoch suddenly. He 
 was staring through the streaming window-pane, and 
 spoke in the voice of one who anticipates amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 " Aye, so it is," corroborated McPhee, looking over 
 his companion's shoulder. " What the deevil brings 
 him out on a day like this? That Major o' his is 
 terrible afeared o' water. Says he to Colonel Fife, 
 the ither day, ' I change ma shirt every time I 
 sweat.' " 
 
 The laughter with which this statement was re- 
 ceived was interrupted by the entrance of Toddie. 
 
 " Weel, lads, glad to see ye sae merry," he said, 
 beaming upon the company. Under his influence 
 they all brightened up, and even Tarn overcame his 
 predisposition to exist entirely in the past. 
 
 " Ye 're no' for playin' the day, are ye? " ques- 
 tioned Murdoch. 
 
 " Weel," said Toddie, ringing the moisture from 
 his cap, " I came doon to see, but they tell me the 
 Major's no' in the club yet. Ah, he's wise. What 
 a rain ! There will be a lot o' casual water after 
 this, I'm thinkin'." 
 
 19
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " What 's this I hear aboot ye, Toddie? " said Mc- 
 Phee with a wink to the others. 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " They tell me ye took yer tea wi* a woman the 
 ither night." 
 
 Toddie's cheerful face darkened. His companions 
 did not share his despondency, for a smile appeared 
 on every face. Even Tarn's bleared eyes twinkled, 
 and as for Daft Willy, his large mouth expanded 
 so far that it appeared doubtful if it would ever 
 again resume its normal proportions. 
 
 " It 's true, then ? " chuckled Murdoch. 
 
 "Aye," said Toddie reluctantly. "It's a fact; 
 though there 's naethin' to grin at. Oh, it wasna ma 
 idea. What was I to dae when I was telt to go in? 
 Me that cold and wet, ye could ha' squeezed me like a 
 sponge." 
 
 " She'll be the Fords' cook ? " questioned Murdoch, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Na, she 's the maid. Did ye never hear tell o' 
 a leddy's maid, Murdoch? I 'm surprised at ye. 
 Oh, they 're common in big houses ; they just wash up 
 after the leddy. Man, she was terrible genteel, and 
 maist extr'ornar clean aye, fair lifted oot o' her 
 station." 
 
 " Did ye kiss her? " questioned Hunter with in- 
 terest. 
 
 If Toddie had been asked whether he had 
 20
 
 TODDIE 
 
 murdered her, he could not have looked more horri- 
 fied. 
 
 " Aye," went on Hunter, wagging his head, " I 
 hear there 's a bonnie lassie there. The butcher's 
 man telt me. Will that be her, think ye? " 
 
 " I heard aboot the lassie too," corroborated Mur- 
 doch. " It was Jock Aitken told me. He said after 
 he 'd swept the chimneys he aye washed his face at 
 the Fords' it was weel worth the trouble." 
 
 " Some likes ye to kiss them quick," mused Mc- 
 Phee in tones of tender reminiscence, " and ithers 
 prefers ye to do it wi' wi' premeditations." 
 
 "That's a powerful word," ejaculated Murdoch. 
 " Where did you come by that, McPhee ? " 
 
 " I got it f rae a professor. He said it was the 
 way he played golf, so I kent it meant somethin' aw- 
 ful slow." 
 
 " I believe ye," agreed Hunter. 
 
 " There was a cook I once kep* company with," 
 smiled McPhee. " The woman would ha' deceived 
 ony man withoot he was weel acquaint wi' the queer 
 contradictious ways o' her sex. So, if Toddie here 
 didna take advantage o' the leddy's kindness in 
 givin' him a chance, he 's mair o' a fool than he 
 looks." 
 
 Toddie's face as he listened to these remarks was 
 a study. It expressed the utmost incredulity and 
 disapproval. Twice he was on the point of interrupt- 
 
 21
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ing, and no sooner had McPhee made an end of speak- 
 ing than he burst forth. 
 
 "Here!" he blurted. "That's no way to talk! 
 Have ye no sense o' decency, o' o' respect ? Takin' 
 away an honest woman's character; aye, behind her 
 back, and you a man. Ye ken her weel enough. 
 She 's Skipper's daughter. Ma word, I 'd like fine 
 to see you take any liberties wi' her! She'd just 
 start to sweep the floor wi' ye ; aye, and I believe she 
 could dae it too, she 's that big." 
 
 " Hello ! Hello ! " ejaculated Hunter. " What 's 
 come over ye? I thought ye disliked women." 
 
 " I canna bear them," muttered Toddie, in con- 
 fusion. 
 
 McPhee laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 "Weel," he said, spitting on the floor. "Ye've 
 a verra queer way o' showin' it. Onybody would 
 think ye loved them all. Man, ye 've a lot to learn ! 
 I was like you, Toddie, when I was a laddie 
 somethin' peetyful. Respec' indeed! Ye make me 
 laugh. Respec' yer grannie! Aye, aye, respec' is 
 a braw word, but love 's a better. Just you mind 
 that when ye come to be walkin' oot." 
 
 Toddie's indignant repudiation of any desire or in- 
 tention to walk out, or walk in, or walk anywhere in 
 company with one of the opposite sex, was not re- 
 ceived with the gravity it merited. His auditors, 
 with the exception of old Tarn and Daft Willy, 
 
 22
 
 TODDIE 
 
 judged it an excellent and fitting opportunity for 
 banter. Their jests, if somewhat broad and heavy, 
 were at all events free from ill-nature, and served to 
 beguile the tedium of the bitter winter's day. 
 
 " What makes ye sae hard on the women-folk, 
 Toddie?" inquired Murdoch curiously. 
 
 " D' ye no' ken? " broke in Tarn, speaking eagerly. 
 " Toddie had a mither." 
 
 " So have I," exclaimed Daft Willy with a pleased 
 smile. 
 
 " We '11 no' speak aboot her, if ye please," said 
 Toddie to Tarn. 
 
 The old man quailed before the unusual severity in 
 the eyes of his friend. Murmuring in incoherent 
 apology, he retired into the grimy recesses of his 
 green coat. 
 
 " Some mithers are no' precisely suited for the 
 job," mused McPhee. 
 
 " Havers ! " growled Hunter with some heat. 
 " That kind 's no' common." He paused, rumina- 
 ting ; then with laborious reminiscence : " When I 
 think o' mine it puts me in mind o' me bein' a laddie 
 at the schule, and her and her coaxin' me to say 
 ma bit prayers." 
 
 McPhee and Murdoch, unfeignedly amazed, gazed 
 at the besotted face of the speaker. 
 
 " Damn rot ! " muttered Hunter apologetically, 
 and avoiding their eyes.
 
 TODDIE 
 
 "Aye, aye. Oh, aye. M-m, M-m," commented 
 McPhee. 
 
 Daft Willy looked from one to the other. His 
 eyes betrayed an eagerness and intelligence which 
 they had before lacked. Several times he moistened 
 his pendulous lips with his tongue, then remarked 
 with complacency: 
 
 " Ma mither 's a good woman." 
 
 There was an awkward silence, then Murdoch tit- 
 tered and was secretly kicked by Toddie, for the 
 lady in question was notorious for her lack of vir- 
 tue. 
 
 Accustomed to be the butt of the more unfeeling 
 among his associates, this considerate silence encour- 
 aged the half-witted lad. His smile vacant and 
 meaningless on other occasions, a mere nervous con- 
 traction of the facial muscles became unexpectedly 
 luminous and even tender, the sign of a devotion so 
 deep-rooted as to be the soil from which sprung the 
 only purifying influence in his down-trodden life. 
 
 " Aye," he said softly. " She hasna her like in all 
 St. Andrews. I whiles peety ither chaps." 
 
 Still smiling, he relapsed into silence. In the pause 
 that ensued the patter of the rain on the roof was de- 
 pressingly audible. 
 
 " When a laddie hasna had a kind hame," quavered 
 Tarn all at once, " it isna to be wondered at if he 
 gets like Toddie here ; and f orby was he no' brought 
 
 24
 
 TODDIE 
 
 up by Jock Aitken him that died o' jaundice 
 and ye all ken what sort o' a wife he had." 
 
 " Tarn," said Toddie sternly. 
 
 "Aye, Toddie?" 
 
 " Did I give ye leave to talk o' ma private af- 
 fairs?" 
 
 "No, Toddie." 
 
 " Weel, shut yer mouth." 
 
 Tarn obeyed. 
 
 McPhee yawned loudly, then muttered an oath. 
 
 " Anither day wasted, just look at it ! It 's no' like 
 a day at all. Nae wonder they 've got the gas 
 lighted in the club. No use waitin'. I 'm off. The 
 sight o' all this water makes a man thirsty. Are ye 
 comin', lads? " 
 
 Hunter and Murdoch accepted his invitation; and 
 the three men squelched away over the saturated 
 gravel. Daft Willy slunk off by himself. Only 
 Tarn and Toddie were left.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 '"1 II THAT are ye after doin'? " questioned Tarn. 
 V V His tone betrayed the fact that he recog- 
 nized Toddie for a born leader, and would cheerfully 
 conform to anything he might suggest. 
 
 " I thought I might ha' got a sight o' him," mur- 
 mured Toddie, who was standing at the window. 
 
 " Yer Major?" said Tarn indifferently. 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " You 're awful fond o' him ? 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 Tarn coughed. The hoarse, rasping sounds filled 
 the dark and dreary shelter. The spasm shook the 
 bent figure as though with rough hands. 
 
 " It beats me," he gasped. 
 
 " What beats ye ? " questioned Toddie, turning. 
 
 " How ony sensible caddie can care for a club 
 member." 
 
 Toddie, planted firmly on his sturdy legs, surveyed 
 the huddled and bent figure before him with compas- 
 sionate superiority. 
 
 " D' ye no' feel whiles that ye just have to care 
 for something ? " he asked. 
 26
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " No," replied Tarn after lengthy thought. 
 " No." 
 
 " Weel, I does. I tell ye, Tarn, I couldna gang 
 through the day withoot it. It just warms me." 
 
 Tarn looked up with interest. 
 
 " Warms ye, Toddie? If I thought that I" 
 
 " Hoots, man, I was speakin' feeguratively. 
 That 's like a parable, ye ken. Oh, I grant ye it 's 
 no* given to onybody to speak like that. Ye just 
 say the wan thing and mean the ither. It 's a gift." 
 
 "Aw!" ejaculated his auditor. 
 
 " Aye," pursued Toddie, serious, but conscious of 
 being delicately flattered. " It warms me to care. 
 I canna help it. If ye 've got that feelin' in yer 
 heart it just bubbles oot. It 's a grand thing I 've 
 got the Major and Bob. Ma word!" his voice rose 
 with sudden and unwonted vehemence, " if I hadna 
 found them, who kens but I might start carin' for 
 some daft-like thing for yerself, maybe?" 
 
 "Would ye, though?" cried Tarn with gratitude. 
 
 " I didna say I would. I said I might. But ye 
 never can tell the way it takes ye. There 's days 
 T 'm awful near tempted to care for the sea and the 
 sunshine, but, hoots, that 's weakness, Tarn. When 
 that silly feelin' comes over me I just thinks o' the 
 game and looks hard at the Major." 
 
 " Aye, aye," murmured his companion, essaying 
 to warm his benumbed and damp fingers by feebly 
 
 27
 
 TODDIE 
 
 rubbing them together, then with a sigh : " I wish I 
 was mair like you, Toddie. I 've not cared for ony- 
 body this lang while back." 
 
 " For naebody, Tarn? " 
 
 The old man looked up at him with dull eyes, then 
 slowly shook his head. " Na. No' that way. I 
 care for you, Toddie but it doesna make me 
 ony warmer." 
 
 "It's no' to be looked for, Tarn. Na, na, that 
 would be expectin' too much o' nature." Then, with 
 a kindly but critical glance at his friend's shivering 
 anatomy : " It would take a terrible lot o' carin' to 
 warm you." 
 
 Tarn pondered over the situation. His thin, hag- 
 gard face, on which the white bristles stood out like 
 frosted stubble above a dirty soil, betrayed the 
 difficulty its owner experienced in analyzing his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 " Ye may be right," he quavered reluctantly. 
 " There 's no' denyin' when ye 're no' there I never 
 thinks aboot ye. I thinks aboot maself." 
 
 " That 's what keeps ye cold, Tarn." 
 
 "Is that a fact? But " and Tarn gazed anx- 
 iously up into the face of his friend " Ye 're not 
 speakin' in parables again, are ye? " 
 
 Toddie smiled. 
 
 " I believe I was ! Ma wordl That 's the best of 
 a habit, Tarn. It bides with ye. It 's not surprisin' 
 
 28
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ye find me puzzlin'- whiles I 'm bothered to find ma 
 meanin' maself." 
 
 " It 's a bad habit," pronounced Tarn, speaking 
 with unusual conviction. 
 
 Toddie caressed his chin. " Weel, I wouldna go 
 sae far as to say that. I tell ye there 's mony a 
 thing the Major says I canna put a meanin' to at all. 
 But, hoots, that doesna show the meanin' is no' there. 
 Na, na, I 've obsairved, Tarn, the cleverer ye are the 
 mair ye hide yer meanin'. No' that ye 're ashamed 
 o' it, but just to give folk the pleasure o' findin' it 
 oot. A meanin' is like a lost ball, Tarn. Ye canna 
 see it, but it 's there. Aye, and some folks canna 
 find it, while ithers just walks straight to the place. 
 Ye take me?" 
 
 Tarn opened his mouth in admiration. 
 
 " Losh ! What a man ye are, Toddie ! What a 
 way ye have o' muddlin' things ! Ah ! " he shook 
 a mournful head " I fear ye 're clever." 
 
 " Ye think sae, Tarn? " 
 
 " I do. Ither caddies can talk and I just under- 
 stand every word they 're sayin'. But you ye 
 take a thing an easy thing, mind ye and twid- 
 dle it aboot, and call it a golf ball, and say it 's lost, 
 and, by Jove, it is ! " 
 
 Toddie smiled complacently. 
 
 " I like fine to hear ye haverin'," continued Tarn, 
 nodding. " It does naebody ony harm. Aye, and 
 
 29
 
 TODDIE 
 
 it takes a body's thoughts off hisself . It 's a grand 
 thing to forget. It 's like bein' asleep, and maybe 
 like bein' dead. But the worst o' it is, when ye 
 stop, a body kind o' wakes up and minds the links and 
 the rheumatics and the cold aye, that 's the worst 
 o' it, a body 's just dragged aboot by hisself." 
 
 There was a note of deep and unconscious pathos 
 in the statement. Nor was it rendered less poignant 
 by attendant circumstances the gloom of the win- 
 ter's day the patter of the rain the moaning 
 of the sea, and the pallid face and shrunken figure of 
 the poor old derelict seen dimly in the obscurity. 
 
 30
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 DAVID McCLURE, then alias Toddie, was one 
 of a type of caddie fast becoming extinct 
 even on the classic links of St. Andrews. Another 
 and a younger race are superseding them, a race less 
 wedded to their employer's interests, and less mind- 
 ful, it may be added, of the true and sporting spirit 
 of the game. 
 
 As a caddie, Toddie had been from the first an un- 
 qualified success even as a player he had acquitted 
 himself by no means despicably. It was not for 
 nothing that his eye for flying, or even for stationary 
 balls was unerring, and that his memory for lines 
 was little short of miraculous. This proficiency 
 stood him in good stead. Many a time when on some 
 bitter winter's day his companions were beating their 
 blue and unemployed hands against their sides, or 
 tramping to and fro to keep up their circulation, 
 casting despairing glances the while at the almost 
 deserted club-house, Toddie as blue and unem- 
 ployed as his neighbors would hear the little win- 
 dow that gave light to the caddie-master's box open 
 abruptly. 
 
 31
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The head of that individual would pop into sight 
 with disconcerting suddenness, like a royal and an- 
 cient jack-in-the-box released from inaction by the 
 sum of eighteenpence his eyes ranging over his 
 subordinates with the controlling and fateful glance 
 of a generalissimo surveying his forces. There 
 would ensue a moment of anxious suspense. A hush 
 would fall upon the little assembly. Men who had 
 been walking would become motionless men who 
 had been talking would become dumb. Fifteen pairs 
 of eyes would rivet themselves, pleadingly, sullenly, 
 or resentfully according to the characters of their 
 respective owners upon the head framed by the 
 tiny window, and thirty ears would listen and long for 
 the sound of their owners' names. 
 
 " McClure," would bellow the caddie-master, and 
 snap would go the closing window. A babel of 
 voices would suddenly arise. 
 
 " You again, Toddie," McPhee or Hunter would 
 exclaim with an oath. 
 
 " It 's Colonel Hardy ; he aye asks for you, Tod- 
 die," Tarn would sigh, actuated as much it is a 
 pleasure to record by melancholy pride in his com- 
 rade's popularity as by any sting of personal disap- 
 pointment; and away Toddie would stump, golf 
 bag under his arm, followed by many an envious 
 glance. 
 
 A lonely man, Toddie occupied one small room at
 
 TODDIE 
 
 No. 7 Logie's Lane. This he referred to as 
 " Hame," and viewed it, dark and cheerless though it 
 was, with not a little proprietary complacency. Its 
 position in the very center of the town was a source 
 of much pride to him. He considered it genteel, al- 
 most aristocratic. The immediate vicinity of the 
 town church cast upon his humble dwelling a shadow 
 of undeniable respectability. When he visited other 
 and less favored mortals Tarn, for instance, who 
 lived in a rickety tenement hard by the harbor his 
 breast swelled with complacency, which, however, he 
 was careful to conceal when sufficiently sober to master 
 his emotions. Nor were reasons wanting for such 
 satisfaction. Tarn's home had its staircase all upon 
 the outside now you could inspect the exterior of 
 Logie's Lane for a week and discover nothing but 
 that you were wasting your time. Then, too, Tarn's 
 plebeian dwelling suffered from the effects of a 
 perennial washing-day. Call when you pleased, 
 your eyes were sure to be scandalized by the sight 
 of the most private of garments shamelessly publish- 
 ing to the world the sex and secrets of their wearers, 
 contorting their limbs like so many tight-rope 
 dancers, doubling spasmodically upon themselves as 
 though overcome with the fantastic humor of the 
 situation, and, in a word, behaving without the least 
 respect for the proprieties. This, on the face of it, 
 smacked of the slums. It was a matter of self-con- 
 
 3 aa
 
 TODDIE 
 
 gratulation to Toddie that no one apparently washed 
 in Logic's Lane. 
 
 There existed some souls of the baser sort who, 
 actuated doubtless by envy, accused Toddie of thrust- 
 ing himself among his betters, aye, of actually living 
 next door to a greengrocer. But it is to be noted 
 that these detractors were the very people who with a 
 smirk of ill-concealed importance would, when in com- 
 pany, refer to " Oor freend in Logic's Lane." 
 
 Toddie's mistrust of women was an instinct of 
 long and steady growth. It began with his earliest 
 recollections of his mother. Upon no consideration 
 would he, it is true, permit any remark derogatory 
 to her to be uttered in his hearing, and indeed owed 
 one black eye which had rendered him disreputable 
 for a week to his ardent championship of her im- 
 aginative virtues but " the evil that men do lives 
 after them," and Jessie McClure was branded by all 
 who remembered her with the epithets of shrew and 
 drunkard. When she died, and Toddie was freed 
 forever from her alternate fits of violence and neglect, 
 what wonder that he transferred his apprehension 
 and dislike to the entire sex. It was remarked by 
 the women of the neighborhood that for long after he 
 had been left an orphan you could not speak to him 
 without seeing his little elbow raised in instinctive 
 defense a pitiable sign that told its own tale. 
 
 Accustomed from infancy to look upon the dark 
 34
 
 TODDIE 
 
 side of family life, Toddie would, as a child, listen 
 to the drunken quarrels of married folk which took 
 place as sure as the Saturday night came round, and 
 so listening drew therefrom his own immature con- 
 clusions. 
 
 " Marriage will be a sair misfortune," he had once 
 confided to a playmate in the interval of top-spin- 
 ning. " I canna think how the Lorrd permits it." 
 And in his fervent prayers for like many another 
 Scottish lad he had passed through a phase of acute 
 religion he had been wont to wrestle with his 
 Maker, beseeching Him to hasten the blessed time, 
 when, according to his promise, there would be 
 neither marriage nor giving in marriage. 
 
 And yet, though shunning female society, Toddie 
 occasionally mustered up courage to speak to old 
 women and little girls. The former, as they sat in 
 their doorways baiting hooks, or were encountered 
 hobbling painfully over the cobble stones, awoke some 
 instinct of pity, and even of tenderness. They had 
 so few pleasures. He forgot their sex in sorrow for 
 their infirmities. Age, by purging them of all at- 
 tractiveness, had robbed them of all danger. There 
 was one in especial with whom he occasionally en- 
 joyed a chat. Something peculiarly reassuring em- 
 anated from her presence she was so like a man. 
 He would meet her sometimes far out among the 
 rocks, at low tide, gathering shell-fish. When ac- 
 
 35
 
 TODDIE 
 
 costed, she would straighten herself with difficulty, 
 and brushing aside a wisp of long white hair that in- 
 variably impeded her vision, would look at him with 
 rheumy, lack-luster eyes in which, however, there 
 might be discovered a faint light of sociability. 
 
 " What a sight o' cockles ! " he had once said to 
 her, pointing to her distended apron. " Ye '11 never 
 eat these all yerself, will ye? " 
 
 " Na," she had answered, looking at the shell-fish. 
 " There 's a man in Glasgow takes them aff me," she 
 paused, then : " They 're awful good for worrms," 
 she added thoughtfully. 
 
 "Worrms?" 
 
 " Aye, better nor onything ye '11 get oot o' a 
 chemist's shop " she paused again, eyed him with 
 a dawning interest, then inquired, " Have ye ony 
 bairns? " 
 
 With a muttered negative he had hastily resumed 
 his walk. It was fully a month before he had ven- 
 tured to speak to her again. 
 
 She seemed to him a natural part of the scenery, 
 like the brown and barren sand, did this little old 
 woman, and he thought about neither till they were 
 immediately under his eyes. One Sabbath afternoon 
 Toddie was gazing at the sea, half mesmerized by its 
 lights and movement, when he heard a feminine voice 
 raised unexpectedly behind him. 
 
 "Oh, it's you," he ejaculated with considerable
 
 TODDIE 
 
 relief, as, turning, he recognized his nameless ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 " Aye, it 's me. I kenned yer back. How are ye 
 keepin'?" 
 
 " Fine. Ye 're no' gatherin' cockles the day, are 
 
 " Na. I gie them a rest on the Sabbath." 
 
 "What brings ye here?" 
 
 She looked at him for a moment as one in doubt, 
 then, evidently making up her mind to trust him, 
 whispered confidentially, *' I picks up things, bottles 
 an' boxes, an' firewood See here ! " and opening 
 her apron she treated him to a sight of its contents. 
 His appreciative comments raised her spirits won- 
 derfully. 
 
 Side by side they stood and watched the waves 
 sweeping landwards. Toddie had almost forgotten 
 her when all at once she spoke again. " The queer 
 things it brings ye," she murmured, indicating the 
 sea with a nod of her draggled bonnet. " I mind 
 once it brought me a lot o' coal good coal it was, 
 too. And anither time it brought me a fish, aye, a 
 black fish as long as yer arm." She paused, sighed 
 thoughtfully, then added : " The doctor said I 
 shouldna ha' eaten it." 
 
 After a while, turning weary eyes on him, she re- 
 marked : 
 
 " You 're a lonely man." 
 37
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie ventured to disagree. But she persisted: 
 " Aye, but you are. The ither day I thought I seed 
 ye wi' yer arm round a lassie's waist doon the 
 Lade Braes, it was Ma certes ! I was that pleased. 
 But when ye came by me I saw it was n't you at all, 
 but a good-lookin' chap." 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 " Aye, he had a beard." 
 
 " We canna all grow beards " began Toddie, 
 then broke off in some confusion, for he saw that she 
 possessed a promising little beard herself. " We 
 canna all be good-lookin'," he corrected good-na- 
 turedly. 
 
 " That 's true," she assented with earnestness, lay- 
 ing a claw-like hand on his arm. " That 's what I 
 used to tell ma Jock when he called me a broom- 
 handle." 
 
 " Nae doot he meant it kindly," soothed Toddie, 
 for the memory seemed to rankle. 
 
 "I 'm no' sae sure," she said doubtfully. " That 
 would be awful unlike Jock. But, hoots ! When a 
 man 's dead ye just have to try and make the best o' 
 him. Aye, broom-handle, it was. I never could see 
 the likeness. Broom-handle? I wonder Ah, weel, 
 I 've lasted him oot onyway. But you nae doot 
 you 're just bidin' yer time." 
 
 "For what?" 
 
 " For marryin'." 
 
 38
 
 TODDIE 
 
 His scandalized denial failed to convince her. 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried, " you 're one of the cautious 
 ones. I see that fine. Tak' the advice o' an auld 
 woman that 's seen a lot o' trouble, never to be led 
 away by looks, and however much she bothers ye 
 never call her a broom-handle." 
 
 " I 'm no' for marryin' at all," cried Toddie, who 
 had been vainly endeavoring to assert himself. " I 
 canna abide women." 
 
 She looked at him skeptically, then the ghost of a 
 smile flitted across her wrinkles. 
 
 " Hoots, never think to escape. A man 's like a 
 cockle. He just clings to his shell, but there comes 
 a braw day and a woman howks him oot at last. 
 I '11 see ye courtin' yet, or ma name 's no' " 
 
 He left her so abruptly that he never discovered 
 her name. When he had gone some little distance he 
 cautiously looked back. She had begun to poke 
 about in the sand with the point of a very dilapidated 
 umbrella. 
 
 As for little girls, Toddie felt drawn to them in- 
 explicably. When alone he pondered over this in- 
 stance of the heart's depravity. Why did he not 
 prefer little boys? It was puzzling. He sought 
 to excuse himself in his own eyes by the reflection 
 that all young things, even pigs, were lovable in ex- 
 treme youth. 
 
 He had his favorites among the miniature women 
 39
 
 TODDIE 
 
 who played in the seclusion of Logic's Lane. One 
 frail little cripple who, aided by crutches, sought in 
 vain to keep pace with the active legs of her robust 
 companions, was the recipient of many a shy grimace, 
 and even though this only on rare occasions and 
 when no one was looking of pokes of sweeties. 
 Her claim upon his affection was due not so much 
 to her infirmity, as to the fact that he had serious 
 doubts as to whether she would ever grow up to be a 
 woman. 
 
 Yes, he liked children well. Their shrill, unmu- 
 sical voices echoing from the gray walls, filling the 
 twilight with animation and peopling the fancy with 
 dreams of lives yet to be lived, cheered the lonely man 
 on his way to his solitary home. From a distance 
 he took a genuine and whole-hearted interest in their 
 games. Even when the worse for liquor he would 
 take the most elaborate precautions not to upset the 
 atom the least secure upon its legs; sometimes going 
 the length of leaving the infant reveler in full and 
 undisputed possession of the pavement, while he him- 
 self tacked carefully past in the road. 
 
 At times, when confronted unexpectedly by some 
 little mite crying as though its heart would break, he 
 would stop, bend over it, an expression of lively com- 
 miseration imprinted upon his weather-beaten counte- 
 nance, and there would ensue the following collo- 
 quy: 
 
 40
 
 TODDIE 
 
 "What's like wrang wi' ye, wee lassie?" (If 
 there existed the least doubt as to sex, Toddie in- 
 variably took for granted that it was a lassie.) 
 
 " Boo-hoo ! " 
 
 " Hoots ! Ye 're no' hurt, are ye? " 
 
 " Boo-hoo ! " 
 
 " What the deevil ! Stop greetin'. Wipe yer 
 face. Ye 're no' fit to look after yer bit self. 
 What 's yer faither thinkin' aboot? Why is he no' 
 mindin' ye, eh? " 
 
 The novelty of this surprising idea would some- 
 times have the desired effect. The noise would cease, 
 and the look of profound astonishment would be 
 fixed on this singular man through eyes bright with 
 unshed tears. 
 
 "Ah," Toddie would chuckle. "See to that. 
 The verra mention o' her faither does the trick. 
 Noo," he would shove a penny in the tiny hand, " run 
 awa' hame to him ; nae doot he 's just wearyin' for a 
 sight o' ye."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 BUT it was not till five years before the opening 
 of our story that the color of real personal 
 feeling came to warm Toddie's lonely existence. 
 That wonderful year brought the Major and Bob. 
 Looking back upon his life before he had met either 
 of these blessings Toddie marveled how he could have 
 lived at all. 
 
 To take the Major first. 
 
 He had appeared one winter when business on the 
 links was unusually slack. 
 
 "Are you engaged?" he said to Toddie, singling 
 out the little caddie by chance from his associates. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Well, take my clubs." 
 
 Toddie obeyed. 
 
 "Who's this I've got?" Toddie whispered 
 hoarsely to McPhee as they followed their employers 
 to the first tee. 
 
 "I'm told his name's Dale, Major Dale, retired 
 from India. What a sight o' clubs!" 
 
 " Aye, but can he play? " 
 42
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The moment the Major gripped the shaft of his 
 driver all doubts were dissipated. 
 
 "He'll do fine," Toddie ejaculated, his honest 
 face aglow. " See that ! A bonnie swing. Just 
 watch that ! Ma word, there 's power for ye ! " 
 
 The first hole fell to Dale in a perfect three. 
 
 Toddie had difficulty in suppressing a chuckle. 
 
 " Ye 've played before, Major," he observed, as 
 side by side they followed the second faultless drive. 
 
 " Once or twice," assented the Major laconically, 
 at which Toddie forgot himself so far as to wink. 
 
 The satisfaction was apparently mutual, for at 
 the end of the afternoon round the Ma j or said : 
 
 " Here 's your money. Are you engaged to-mor- 
 row ? No ? Well I '11 take you by the month. Are 
 you agreeable ? " 
 
 By the month! No more uncertainty no more 
 following free trippers no more struggling to 
 make ends meet ! A pound a week ! Toddie had 
 never felt more agreeable in his life. It was the real- 
 ization of his rosiest dream. At least an inch higher 
 that afternoon, he whistled himself all the way back 
 to Logic's Lane. 
 
 Neither party had cause to regret the bargain. 
 The years that followed but cemented the satisfac- 
 tion, until there grew up between them a feeling 
 which, if it were not friendship, was at all events as 
 deep and abiding. And, as in love there must be
 
 TODDIE 
 
 always one who kisses and one who offers the cheek, 
 so also in comradeship it is inevitable that one shall 
 be first in staunchness, first in unselfish devotion. 
 Toddie led, an easy first. It was a case of ardent 
 hero-worship from the start. He admired the Ma- 
 jor tremendously admired his size, his strength, 
 his quiet manner that yet gave the observer an 
 impression of power his golf, his learning, his halo 
 of reputed military glory, his indifferent perform- 
 ance on the flute. He even had an awestruck ad- 
 miration for his employer's occasional severity. But 
 his crowning admiration was reserved for the fact 
 that the Major, despite fearful temptations, was 
 still a bachelor. 
 
 Naturally, as time went on, each had to make 
 allowances. Dale, for example, had to overlook occa- 
 sional lapses into liquor; but as no amount of drink 
 appeared to affect Toddie's sight or judgment, it was 
 not such a serious defect in a caddie as might be 
 supposed. 
 
 Toddie, on his part, had to excuse a testiness that 
 showed itself only at golf, an impatience of involun- 
 tary movement, a sudden glare of an offended eye. 
 Once the Major had said: "Toddie, you lost me 
 that hole." And Toddie, falsely accused, had lain 
 awake thinking of it for a week. 
 
 And now for Bob. 
 
 Bob had come into Toddie's life one dark rainy 
 44
 
 TODDIE 
 
 night when that individual had been lurching home- 
 ward, not be it with sorrow recorded without 
 involuntary deviations and unconsidered halts to as- 
 certain his whereabouts. "What's this?" Tod- 
 die had ejaculated as he all but fell over the wriggling 
 impediment. " Shoo ! ye beastie ! " But Bob would 
 not be shooed. Tacking after his chance acquaint- 
 ance across the reaches of Grey Friars' Gardens, fol- 
 lowing him like a shadow, as he steered an uncertain 
 course between the lamp-posts of Market Street, Bob 
 succeeded in slipping into No. 7 Logic's Lane un- 
 perceived. 
 
 That night Toddie slept in his boots. But the 
 first thing that met his sober and astonished gaze 
 upon the following morning was Bob seated at the 
 foot of the bed, wagging a nervous tail, but ready 
 to be happy and confidential if cause were shown. 
 
 From that moment they were even as David and 
 Jonathan. 
 
 Were it not for golf Bob would have been su- 
 premely happy. " Ye see I canna take ye," Toddie 
 had explained earnestly, the shaggy head between 
 his knees. " It 's as much as ma place is worth. 
 D' ye see that, Bob ? Ye wouldna ruin me a' the- 
 gither, would ye now? " 
 
 And Bob had listened with his almost human eyes 
 fixed on his master, concerned but puzzled, ready 
 for anything, save indeed to be left at home. 
 
 45
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Bob was a mystery. His birthplace, his age, his 
 former master, his breed, all were secrets. No one 
 knew aught about him, no more than if he had 
 dropped from the clouds. 
 
 Toddie, excited as a boy, had to repeat the story 
 of his discovery many times. It was : " Ye see, 
 it was like this, me here, and him there; me rubbin' 
 ma eyes, an' him waggin' his bit tail " etc., etc. 
 
 "Found him in yer bed!" ejaculated Herd, the 
 greengrocer's assistant; then added, not without 
 envy : " Man, ye must ha' been drunk ! " 
 
 " He '11 not be a retriever, will he ? " suggested 
 Haxton, the butcher's man, doubtfully. " He 's 
 mair like an Aberdeen terrier, yet I confess his tail 
 bothers me." 
 
 Even McPhee, who set up for being a dog-fancier, 
 scratched his head. 
 
 " If ye look at the one-half of him ye would say 
 a collie," he pronounced oracularly, " and if ye look 
 at the ither weel, ye 're just flabbergasted." 
 
 The three visitors went away wagging doubtful 
 heads, while Bob, knowing well that he had been dis- 
 paragingly criticized, feigned profound interest in 
 a flea. 
 
 " Send him to the police office," advised Haxton 
 from the door. 
 
 " Deed I will not ! " cried Toddie indignantly. 
 " Did he no' come to me trustin'-like ? Aye, chose 
 
 46
 
 TODDIE 
 
 me oot, ye may say, from all the folk in St. An- 
 drews? Na, na, Bob bides here." 
 
 But Toddie was not kept long in the dark as far 
 as Bob's profession was concerned, for even while 
 they sat at breakfast upon the second morning, the 
 sound of distant bleating floated in at the open door. 
 In a flash Bob was transformed from a patient em- 
 bodiment of hunger, to a breathless interrogation. 
 A moment he stood trembling, his whole heart visibly 
 in his ears, then bolted. 
 
 On reaching Market Street his master saw him 
 wheeling, charging, circling, and explaining to .a 
 flock of bewildered sheep exactly what he wished 
 them to do. 
 
 " Guid sakes ! " gasped Toddie, suddenly enlight- 
 ened. " He 's a collie ! " 
 
 What was a caddie to do with a collie? There 
 was but one solution. Bob must change his ways. 
 In pursuance of this plan he was lectured, argued 
 with, entreated. To do him justice he listened with 
 great good nature, but the moment he met a sheep, 
 away he went again like an arrow from a bow. He 
 simply could not help it. He could no more refrain 
 from unnecessary advice than can a relation. 
 
 One consolation, that Toddie hugged to his breast, 
 was that the dog appeared actuated only by mo- 
 tives of kindness. Had any doubt existed on this 
 point it would have been dispelled by his conduct one 
 
 47
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Sunday morning. The two friends had gone out for 
 a walk when, suddenly, with a yelp of excitement, 
 Bob cleared a wall. 
 
 Hastily pursuing, Toddie found what? 
 
 Bob posing as an unwelcome instructor? No. 
 But Bob stretched on the grass beside a newly-born 
 lamb, licking the little creature's face with every 
 sign of tenderness and affection. 
 
 48
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TODDIE was on his way to the links. The fine- 
 ness of the morning, however, tempted him 
 to pause where Murray Park debouched on to the 
 Scores. 
 
 " Man ! " he soliloquized, shading his eyes with a 
 horny fist, " but the sea 's real bonnie the day. An' 
 bright, it just bothers ye to look at it." Then, 
 catching sight of the brown sail of a fishing boat dark 
 against the light " Yon will be the Children's 
 Friend. Jock and Sandy have been oot all night. 
 A fine life ; a fine stirrin' life. Aweel, aweel, we 
 canna all serve the Lorrd on the water. An' nae 
 doot if His Will was known, He wouldna wish the 
 links to be neglected." 
 
 Lost in vague yet pleasurable contemplation, he 
 did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps 
 until a thick-set man closely followed by a terrier 
 was upon him. 
 
 " Mornin', Toddie," said the newcomer briskly. 
 
 " Mornin'," growled Toddie, eying him with open 
 distaste. 
 
 4 49
 
 TODDIE 
 
 "How's yerself ? " inquired the stranger with af- 
 fectionate solicitude. 
 
 "Fine." 
 
 " I 'm glad to hear it. It was only the ither day 
 that Auchtermuchtie says to me : ' Herd,' says he, 
 ' Toddie 's gettin' auld ; he 's that white aboot the 
 gills.' ' Havers ! ' says I, takin' your part, ' That 's 
 not age, that 's drink ; when I canna afford one 
 maself his breath is sort o' consolation to me.' ' 
 
 " I '11 trouble you to leave me oot o' yer talk." 
 
 " Hoots, man, no trouble at all, we had nothin' 
 worse to talk aboot. Kirkentilloch he's just 
 buried his Jean, his third she was Weel, says he 
 to me : * Toddie needs chastenin', he ought to 
 marry.' Man, ye needna glower at me, I didna say 
 it. But he 's a lad o' experience is Kirkentilloch, 
 says he : c Herd, ye never find real blessed peace 
 till ye lend all yer dear ones to the Lorrd.' But I 
 up and told him there was no fear o' you lendin' 
 onything to onybody if ye could help it; and 
 forby, that women just frightened ye oot o* yer 
 life." 
 
 Toddie opened his mouth angrily, then, thinking 
 better of it, closed it with a snap. Herd possessed 
 the unpleasant accomplishment of rubbing him up 
 the wrong way; yet so plausible were most of his 
 enemy's remarks that for the life of him Toddie 
 could never think of an appropriate retort. 
 
 50
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " She found six Colonels, and five Dunlops, and 
 two Zodiacs no later than yesterday," announced 
 Herd suddenly, jerking his thumb with admiration 
 at the terrier. " She gets cleverer an' cleverer every 
 day. She 's just got a passion for lost balls. Where 
 think ye she found one last week? In Tom Brown's 
 shop." 
 
 He laughed with immense appreciation, but Tod- 
 die preserved a stony silence. 
 
 " It 's a grand, independent life," Herd hitched 
 himself as he spoke on to the sunlit wall. " Nothin* 
 to do but walk aboot. Ma brains an' Nell's legs; 
 a sort o' partnership ye would say. Lucrative, too. 
 I made five shillings yesterday. I never know what 
 it is to want now, the Lorrd be thankit 1 " 
 
 He wiped his mouth with the back of a dirty hand, 
 and gazed at the sea. 
 
 Toddie produced an old and much abbreviated 
 pipe. 
 
 " Ye never carry now ? " he inquired of Herd, be- 
 tween puffs. 
 
 "Me? No' likely! I'm ma own master; go oot 
 when I like; come home when I like; eat when I 
 like, an' drink when I like." He paused, then, still 
 gazing at the sea "Drink when I like," he re- 
 peated softly. 
 
 Toddie suppressed a strong desire to tip him over 
 the wall. 
 
 51
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " How 's Bob ? " questioned the unconscious Herd 
 with patronage. 
 
 " Fine," grunted Toddie. 
 
 " Dod ! I 'm glad to hear it. It 's no* natural 
 for a dog to be gnawin' the legs off a kitchen table 
 six days oot o' the seven. I hope ye give the poor 
 beastie a run on the Sabbath ? " 
 
 Toddie disdained to answer. 
 
 " He canna help bein' stupid," said Herd leniently. 
 " He 's not like Nell here. Look there see her 
 now ! By gosh ! if she 's no' huntin' for lost balls 
 in yon drain. Man, she 's a treat ! But, as I was 
 minded to say, Bob 's verra bark makes ye despair 
 o' him; just a daft, senseless noise. But we canna 
 expect sense in a mongrel." 
 
 " Mongrel yerself ." 
 
 " Man, ye 're testy ! All pride, so it is. Get rid 
 o' it, Toddie. A humble heart is what you need. 
 Did ye hear the sermon the ither Sabbath? No? 
 Weel, ye missed somethin' rare, for the Meenister 
 was uplifted. He taught us what to do wi' oor tal- 
 ents. Thinks I I had two bran new balls in ma 
 pocket Nell had hunted oot of Colonel Hardie's bag 
 you may say what ye like aboot dumb beasties, 
 but ma dog sets us all an example, for she makes 
 mair use of her one talent than does mony a Chris- 
 tian." 
 
 Accustomed though he was to parables this un- 
 52
 
 TODDIE 
 
 expected rendering of the Scriptures took Toddie 
 aback. Truth to tell, he resented this embroidery 
 as an unwarrantable encroachment upon his own 
 rights. 
 
 " See here now," Herd laid a hand on Toddie's 
 arm, " I '11 tell ye what I '11 do. I '11 help ye teach 
 him." 
 
 " When I want yer help I '11 come for it," blurted 
 Toddie, shaking him off. " Bob 's no' the dog to 
 sneak aboot pickin' up things that dinna belong 
 to him. And more the deil can quote Screepture 
 to his purpose. Guid day, to ye." 
 
 As he stumped away he heard steps following 
 him. 
 
 " Who 's Ford ? " questioned the irrepressible 
 Herd, keeping pace. But Toddie professed not only 
 ignorance, but indifference. 
 
 " Weel, that 's queer, seein' you 're playin' with 
 him the day." 
 
 "Eh?" Toddie stopped short. 
 
 " Aye, Dale and Ford. Ten minutes to ten, I 
 seed it on the startin' board maself. Will Ford be 
 a club member, think ye ? " 
 
 Toddie scratched his head. " There 's auld Mr. 
 Ford," he mused, forgetful of his annoyance. " But 
 he 's near eighty." 
 
 " Maybe it 's his daughter Charity they call 
 her." 
 
 53
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie laughed the suggestion to scorn. Herd, 
 however, wagged his head. 
 
 " Ye never can tell," he said darkly. " Women 
 are aye where they 're least wanted. The lassie tries 
 to play, I 've seen her at it maself . Maybe you and 
 yer Major will be for giving her a lesson. I wish 
 I could stop an' hear ye." 
 
 Laughing offensively, he lurched away. 
 
 Reaching the club-house, Toddie verified Herd's 
 statement. Extremely puzzled, he consulted several 
 of his associates, eliciting, however, nothing more 
 satisfactory than that, as it could not be old Mr. 
 Ford, it must be his daughter. It was early in the 
 day to quarrel, yet Toddie was never nearer it. For 
 a mere nothing he would have fought them all. The 
 suggestion that his Major "a scratch player, 
 mind ye," would allow himself to be seen in the 
 same match with a woman, rankled deeply. 
 
 "Is it likely?" he snorted with immense scorn, 
 when McPhee tried to reason with him. 
 
 " It 's human natur'," mused McPhee with melan- 
 choly philosophy. " Ye may think to wriggle oot 
 of it, but Natur' grips ye at the last. A woman 
 turns yer head. She makes ye dizzy. I know what 
 I 'm talkin' aboot, for I mind the last time but three 
 when I was walkin' oot " 
 
 But here Toddie flung himself off. 
 54
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Taking up his stand beneath the big window of 
 the smoking-room a favorite position which, from 
 its isolation, he imagined to impart dignity to one 
 engaged by the month fears, irritations, suspi- 
 cions all fell from him. Faith in the Major again 
 burned high. Ford would no doubt turn out to be a 
 visitor, a fine player. Toddie and his master would 
 have the satisfaction of relieving him of half-a- 
 crown at the last hole. Lovingly polishing a mashie 
 with a wisp of sand-paper, he awaited the starting 
 hour. 
 
 The weather contributed insensibly to his regained 
 composure. The links were deluged with sun, the 
 frosty, clear-eyed sunlight of northern winters that 
 tingles in the quickened blood like some rare vintage. 
 The far hills quivered through silver haze. A flock 
 of sea-gulls at breakfast on a patch of reclaimed 
 land, made a cheerful clamor; at times whirling up- 
 ward like a handful of snowflakes tossed into the 
 blue, and again settling in a flutter of varied and 
 infinite grace. The world seemed a good place, 
 made on purpose for masculine golf, full of sights 
 and sounds reminiscent of old associations, reassur- 
 ing, intimate. 
 
 " Ours will be the next number," murmured Toddie 
 complacently, as Braid's stentorian voice roared out 
 the players' names. With that he cast a glance to- 
 
 55
 
 TODDIE 
 
 wards the club window which generally framed the 
 imposing figure of the Major, but that hero was no- 
 where to be seen. 
 
 Still lost in speculation, Toddie gazed vacantly, 
 when Tarn Macintyre, who had stolen upon him un- 
 perceived, remarked : 
 
 " Look the ither way. Yon 's him comin' across 
 the links." 
 
 Toddie obeyed quickly ; as he did so his heart 
 sank, for beside his master's soldierly form, a golf- 
 bag depending from her shoulder, walked a woman. 
 
 56
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 NO sound fell upon the listening ear save the 
 raving of the wind, a noise strangely dis- 
 quieting to the imagination, suggestive of something 
 that sobbed and moaned and wailed of something 
 that pleaded to be left alone yet was hounded piti- 
 lessly forward into the blackness of the winter's 
 night. Even within the kitchen, where the solitary 
 woman sat waiting, something of the same inde- 
 scribable sensation of eerieness and abandonment 
 made itself felt. 
 
 Devina had turned down the gas from motives of 
 economy, but the red glow of firelight played upon 
 her. It tipped her hair, strayed like a blush over 
 her strong dark features, reflected itself in the somber 
 light of her eyes, and accentuated the shapely lines 
 of her figure. Not that she was conscious of it, 
 for she had forgotten her surroundings, forgotten 
 even the reason of her lonely vigil. In the dusk and 
 the silence a familiar voice was whispering to her 
 the voice of the past. 
 
 How long she sat she knew not, but she was 
 roused from retrospection by the solemn striking of 
 
 57
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the clock. Sitting erect, she counted " One, two, 
 three." Three o'clock! The night was far spent. 
 
 " She '11 be comin' home soon now," she muttered 
 to herself, then listened intently, but nothing was 
 audible save the mournful violence of the gale. 
 
 Mechanically, moved thereto by the lateness of 
 the hour and still bemused with dreams, she raised 
 her arms and slowly pulled out her hair-pins. 
 Freed from their support, the dark and luxuriant 
 masses fell in confusion about her shoulders. Her 
 hair was Devina's chief glory. It reached to her 
 knees. Though dark, it had yet the peculiar quality 
 of attracting the light. To see it smoldering in the 
 sunshine was purely sensuous joy. When plaited it 
 made a rope almost as thick as her arm. Devina 
 herself contemplated its beauty with mingled feel- 
 ings of half-bashful gratification and openly-ex- 
 pressed indifference. At times she was even haunted 
 by the misgiving that its uncanny superfluity was 
 an earnest of the divine determination to test her 
 a temptation to vainglory which, unless she re- 
 sisted with steadfast humility as became a member 
 of the U. P. Kirk, would inevitably drag her down 
 to the horrors of the pit. 
 
 With listless fingers, hardly aware of what she 
 did, she began to disentangle the massive and shining 
 coils. Then, acting under the influence of some 
 semi-conscious instinct, she rose, turned up the gas, 
 
 58
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and stood before a small mirror suspended on the 
 wall. 
 
 For a moment or two she silently contemplated 
 her image, contemplated it with a stern and critical 
 impartiality that yet had in it something of the 
 pathetic wistfulness inherent in her nature. But as 
 she gazed, a swift frown darkened her face. 
 
 " What 's the use o' it," she muttered with bitter- 
 ness. " Much good it 's done ye." Then abruptly, 
 and in sudden panic : " What 's this ? Undressin' in 
 the kitchen! What would the mistress say? Think 
 shame o' yersel' for a daft auld wife ! " 
 
 All at once, clearly distinct in the silence of the 
 night, came the rumble of distant wheels. In less 
 time than it takes to record it, Devina was at the 
 front door, peering into the gusty darkness. 
 
 " Ye 're late," she said as a muffled figure came 
 quickly towards her. Despite the ungracious words 
 even a stranger would have distinguished the note 
 of real solicitude. 
 
 "Why did you sit up?" came a fresh young 
 voice. " I never meant you to do that. I have the 
 key." 
 
 "Hoots! Can a key unfasten ye behind? A 
 godless hour o' night this to be gallivantin'. Come 
 away to yer bed." 
 
 As they entered the bedroom, Charity cried out : 
 
 " A fire ? That is nice of you. And soup ? De- 
 59
 
 TODDIE 
 
 vina, you spoil me. Why " She broke off and 
 gazed up at her attendant in wonderment. 
 
 Devina betrayed instant confusion. Her hands 
 sought her head. 
 
 " I *m sorry," she apologized gruffly. " I wasna 
 thinkin' what I was doin'." 
 
 " It 's not that, but " She touched a long and 
 dusky tress. " I 've never seen your hair down be- 
 fore. It 's ever so much thicker than mine. De- 
 vina " She looked up with smiling admiration 
 into the self-conscious face " Devina, you 're hand- 
 some." 
 
 " Havers ! " cried Devina, visibly flattered, but 
 protesting. 
 
 " But you are. Very handsome. Every one must 
 think so. I wonder why " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence; and Devina, ap- 
 parently unaware of the omission, began to relieve 
 her of her cloak. 
 
 It was a pretty picture that was given to the gas- 
 light. But, charming as was the costume, it was the 
 face that attracted, for its dominant characteristic 
 was a peculiarly endearing and sunny charm. 
 
 And it was evident that Devina too was of this 
 opinion, for as she stepped back, the cloak still in 
 her hands, her eyes reflected nothing but a loving 
 and whole-hearted admiration. 
 
 Suddenly aware of inspection, Charity smiled. 
 60
 
 "Do you like it?" she asked. "Do I look 
 nice?" 
 
 Devina sniffed, and feigned immediate interest 
 in the cloak. 
 
 " It 's a Godly heart I 'm lookin' to see in you, 
 Miss Charity, and not merely a hankerin' after 
 earthly braws. In the midst o' life we are in death. 
 Here, stand still till I undo ye." 
 
 " The lace is beautiful, is n't it? " commented 
 Charity, touching it lightly. 
 
 " It 's weel enough." 
 
 " Well enough 1 Why, it 's the making of it. Of 
 course there were several prettier dresses. Lily Lo- 
 gan's now " 
 
 " Her. Set her up ! A gawky, red-headed 
 washin' pole, so she is. With a neck on her like a 
 scarecraw. She couldna hold a candle to you, dress 
 or no dress. Umph, were there ony ithers ? " 
 
 It is pleasant to record how unexpectedly gentle 
 was the touch of this serving woman's hands, hard 
 and work-worn though they were, and with what 
 obvious and proprietary pride she waited upon her 
 mistress. Nor is it less pleasant to tell of the affection 
 and childlike dependence as though the elder woman 
 were a sister rather than a servant with which 
 Charity accepted her services. 
 
 " Did you help the Master to bed? " asked the 
 latter, seated before the fire and sipping soup. 
 
 61
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Poor Daddy, he 's getting very old, Devina ; 
 and very feeble ; I hope he did n't miss me much." 
 
 " Hoots, he never missed ye at all ! Says he, 
 'I'm glad she's en joy in' herself.' 'It's good for 
 her young legs,' says I. Then when I 'd given him 
 his pipe, says he : ' You and I get on fine, De- 
 vina.' ' Onybody would get on wi' you,' says I, 
 * for ye 're no' like a man at all.' ' 
 
 " And what did he say to that compliment? " 
 
 " Compliment? I never pay compliments. It 
 was the truth. For a more civil-spoken auld gentle- 
 man I never wish to wait on. Oh, he will have his 
 bit joke! He canna help that somethin' aboot 
 dancin' it was, but I just told him that we auld folk 
 were better at home." 
 
 "Old folk? What nonsense!" 
 
 " Na, there 's no nonsense aboot it. I 'm thirty- 
 three, ma dear, just an auld maid. But what does 
 it matter; naebody cares." 
 
 " Thirty-three 's not so very old. I '11 be thirty 
 myself in seven years. And besides I care." 
 
 Devina's face glowed, but she only said : " Yer 
 hair 's comin' out ; ye put too many French denti- 
 frishes on. Nothing touches mine but cauld water, 
 an' it was the same with ma mother before me. Keep 
 yer head still. What like dances had ye? " 
 
 She listened to the vivacious account with keen 
 62
 
 TODDIE 
 
 feminine curiosity, through which shone a nai've and 
 modest amazement. 
 
 " Have you never been to a dance? " asked her 
 mistress, roused by her ejaculations. 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Don't you like dancing? " 
 
 Devina shook her head. " Na, na, dancin' has 
 never come ma way. I used to keek at them all 
 dancin' at the fair. I aye liked the music fine, but, 
 Lorrd keep us ! I know too much aboot men to 
 be carin' to be gripped by the likes o' them." 
 
 Charity did not smile, for there was that in the 
 deep voice that would have stifled all temptation to 
 merriment. 
 
 " You 've not been happy," she said impulsively, 
 then wished the question unspoken, for curiosity con- 
 nected with Devina seemed an inexcusable lack of 
 delicacy. But to her surprise and relief Devina 
 did not resent it. The hour, the silence, the shaded 
 lights, the atmosphere of sympathy, had not only 
 broken down the barriers of reticence but had ob- 
 literated class distinctions. More they awoke in 
 Devina's lonely heart an imperative longing to be 
 understood by one of her own sex to seek the 
 alleviation of spoken words, if only words would 
 come. 
 
 For a moment there was a silence painfully sug- 
 gestive of effort, then in a low awkward voice, and 
 
 63
 
 brushing sedulously at her mistress's hair Devina 
 began : 
 
 " I might have been happy, but how can I tell 
 ye. It 's the way ye 're made. Some folk get all 
 the love, an' others get none." She broke off, then 
 with a burst of feeling strangely and unexpectedly 
 eloquent : " Oh, it 's easy for you, ma dearie, with 
 your laughin' wee face and bonnie manners to win 
 love, and glad and proud am I to see it but I 'm 
 different. There was a time I once thought 
 but that 's all over now. Naebody will ever love me. 
 Whisht, keep still, ye needna contradict. I ken fine 
 what I 'm sayin'. When ye 've a face that glowers 
 like like a ghost, ye just give folk the shudders. 
 I 've thought about it more than I like to tell ye. 
 Folk are blind, an' ye canna blame them, for a 
 woman's heart is like her hair I 'm thinkin', mostly 
 out o' sight, and it 's the false that makes the most 
 show." 
 
 There was a note of unconscious tragedy in her 
 voice that seemed to rise from some profound depth 
 of sadness and disillusion. It moved Charity deeply, 
 but fearful of interruption, and still under the spell 
 of surprise, she sat still. 
 
 " There was father," continued Devina colorlessly. 
 " I believe he was willin' to love me. That 's queer, 
 is it no'? But I was hard on him. He was just 
 a bairn, ye may say, and bairns canna thrive without 
 
 64
 
 TODDIE 
 
 love ; an' I gave him black looks and a rough tongue. 
 What if he did drink? " Her voice rose harsh and 
 aggressive. " What if he was n't honest an' sairly 
 wanted releegion? Didna everybody love him? 
 An' it was ma fault. When mother died * Be kind 
 to him, Devina,' says she. And how did I do it? I 
 drove him to his death." 
 
 " No, no." 
 
 " But aye, it 's clear to me now. If I 'd brung him 
 up different would he have stolen yon treesure? 
 Would he have gone wi' all his sins like scarlet 
 straight to the Judgment Seat o' God? " 
 
 " But he was drowned trying to do his duty 
 trying to bring it back." 
 
 " And so he was, the Lorrd be thanked ! And now 
 it 's his own daughter that 's tryin' her best to rob 
 him o' his good name. That 's just like me. Here, 
 pass that ribbon." 
 
 " Was there no one else? " asked Charity in a low 
 voice. 
 
 There came no answer, but the hands tying the 
 ribbon trembled. 
 
 " Don't tell me, Devina t I should n't have 
 asked." 
 
 " There 's little to tell, dearie, only anither mis- 
 take. But " Her tone changed swiftly 
 " what right have I to trouble you, more shame to me 
 a young thing like you. I have to thank ye, ma 
 5 65
 
 TODDIE 
 
 dear, for listenin* sae kindly, I canna think what 
 made me talk like that. Hoots! " Her hand 
 rested on the girl's shoulder, for Charity was looking 
 round at her with very real trouble in her eyes 
 " Hoots, never bother yer head about me I 'm fine. 
 Now, sup yer soup and say yer prayers." 
 
 Little more was said, and that little touched ex- 
 clusively on practical matters, but as Devina crossed 
 the room to put out the gas, something white on 
 the carpet attracted her attention. She picked it 
 up. 
 
 " That 's my program. Give it to me." 
 
 The tone of the girl's voice made Devina look at 
 her. Charity, now beneath the bedclothes, was 
 holding out her hand. 
 
 " What like 's a program ? " she questioned with 
 curiosity. 
 
 The explanation caused her to cry : " I 'd like 
 fine to see it." 
 
 Charity hesitated. 
 
 " Only if ye like," added Devina with a flush. 
 
 Receiving permission she inspected it with eager- 
 ness. 
 
 " Ma word ! What a lot o' dances ! And will 
 these queer marks be yer partners ? " 
 
 "Y-es." 
 
 '* I canna make them out. Here 's a D. an' there 's 
 66
 
 TODDIE 
 
 a D. and there 's anither and anither D. further on 
 ten, aye eleven. And who will D. be ? " 
 
 Her grave, truth-compelling eyes rested on her 
 mistress. Charity, rosy with a pretty embarrassment, 
 was forced to murmur: 
 
 " Major Dale." 
 
 erf
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE confession of the program did not pass from 
 Devina's mind. 
 
 And to realize to the full its effect upon her, it 
 will be necessary to dwell upon her relations towards 
 her mistress. 
 
 Devina belonged to that fast disappearing class 
 of Scottish domestic servants whose interests are 
 welded inseparably with those of their employers 
 who enter service with no thought of chang- 
 ing who remain in it with no idea of " bettering " 
 themselves who become almost one of the family, 
 honest, self-respecting, hard-working, and plain- 
 speaking, subject to tantrums, as who among us is 
 not ? but steadfast as their native hills and, if put to 
 the proof, faithful even unto death. 
 
 And it was but natural that Devina, entering the 
 Fords' employment bowed down by her father's 
 tragic death and broken by her one disastrous love 
 affair, should attach herself passionately to the 
 motherless girl who came into her empty life like a 
 heaven-sent consolation, unconsciously appealing to 
 love and fostering care. 
 
 68
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The heart of the lonely woman a heart too big 
 to be articulate, capable of all devotion, all self- 
 sacrifice expended itself with unstinting prodigal- 
 ity. It gave its all and looked for no return. Yet 
 this labor of love brought its own reward. In the 
 day-long service, in the unsleeping vigilance, even 
 in the practice of rigid and unnecessary economy 
 Devina, unseeking, found temporary anodyne from 
 sorrow. And if, in the night watches, the phantoms 
 of dead hopes haunted her pillow, she would banish 
 them sternly, forcing wistful dreams, and tender but 
 unrealized anticipations to the bottom of her aching 
 heart. 
 
 Her position in the household had from the first 
 been one of unquestioned authority. Her fellow 
 servants discovered, greatly to their indignation, 
 that if they failed to please Devina they had to go 
 an alternative of which they availed themselves with 
 disconcerting frequency. Unsparing towards her- 
 self, she had no thought of sparing others. As a 
 cook she had proved a failure. Not but that her 
 performances, viewed from the dining-room, were 
 above reproach. Still, the meals in the kitchen were 
 productive of nothing but discontent, aggravated 
 by her suspicion of " nights out " and deadly hostility 
 to " followers." 
 
 " Jane has given warning," Charity had said once, 
 when she was old enough to visit the kitchen for the 
 
 69
 
 TODDIE 
 
 purpose of " receiving " rather than " giving " or- 
 ders. 
 
 " A good riddance," Devina had retorted grimly. 
 
 " That is the third housemaid in six months." 
 
 " Weel, we 're better without them. A set o* silly 
 hussies, aye thinkin' of their faces or their stomachs. 
 I 've no patience with them." 
 
 Elevated to the rank of lady's maid a promotion 
 due more to interest than suitability Devina took 
 kindly to her new duties. It pleased her well to be 
 the personal attendant of " the mistress." But far 
 from being puffed up, she was not above turning 
 her hand to anything required, or not required, of 
 her, from sweeping floors to cleaning silver. As an 
 overseer of slaves Devina would have been invalua- 
 ble ; but as one of a civilized household, expected to 
 run in treble harness with a cook and a house-table 
 maid it must be admitted that Devina was a sad 
 stumbling-block. Between her and her fellows there 
 was war perennial and bitter that stopped short only 
 at active hostilities, for she exercised over them a 
 grim and suspicious surveillance hard to be borne, 
 harder to forgive. 
 
 " Do yer duty an' I 've naethin' to say," she would 
 explain to a newcomer in a tone that announced 
 that, as far as she was concerned, her mind was made 
 up for the worst. 
 
 Taken to task by Charity for some speech of es- 
 70
 
 TODDIE 
 
 pecial severity, she would listen with a comical mix- 
 ture of penitence and obstinacy, then cry : " Did 
 I not see her eatin' your dessert? No better nor a 
 common thief! Aye, ye can go and see for yerself, 
 Miss Charity ; there 's only six sweeties left in the dish, 
 and was I to let that pass? Not likely ! " 
 
 Domineering over her mistress, guarding her inter- 
 ests with the fidelity of an honest watch-dog, envelop- 
 ing her with a worship that, balked of natural outlet, 
 struggled continually to express itself in a barren and 
 intemperate zeal, Devina had gradually come to con- 
 sider Charity as a something peculiarly her own, a 
 treasure confided to her care during their passage 
 through a naughty world. 
 
 The simile of the dog holds good. For even as a 
 collie might defend a lamb from wolves, so was Devina 
 prepared to defend her mistress from men. 
 
 Nor was she without high authority for her dis- 
 torted philosophy, abounding in Scriptural quotations 
 from which, though she usually kept them to herself, 
 she derived an austere and melancholy satisfaction. 
 " All men are liars," may be cited as an example. 
 
 Still, with commendable foresight she did not seek 
 to induce her mistress to forbid them the house. 
 Sterling common sense whispered to her that even 
 were she successful a result by no means probable, 
 for Charity was not without considerable independ- 
 ence of character she would, by so doing, put her- 
 
 71
 
 TODDIE 
 
 self beyond the pale of confidence. This fear 
 brought her heart to her mouth, for the delightful 
 intimacy when she waited on her mistress and listened 
 enthralled to the girlish chatter were the golden hours 
 of Devina's life. 
 
 Forced to dissemble, and even to feign an interest 
 in these natural foes she was far from feeling, Devina 
 watched them come and go with profound, if secret, 
 disapproval. Until the night of the ball, however, 
 all had seemed well. Despite her remarks to Toddie 
 upon the occasion of her memorable tea-party, even 
 her jealous eyes had discovered no real cause for 
 apprehension. Charity, coaxed artfully thereto, had 
 always appeared ready to air her innocent views upon 
 all male visitors with the light-hearted ingenuousness 
 of one essentially fancy free. 
 
 But the episode of the program had banished for- 
 ever all feelings of security. Too poignantly aware 
 of the swift and insidious advances of love, Devina 
 noted with mute consternation the infallible symp- 
 toms the sudden illuminating silence when Dale's 
 name was mentioned, the tell-tale blush that, like a 
 danger signal, gave warning of his approach and, 
 so noting, marveled at and passed censure on her 
 blindness. 
 
 It was characteristic of her that she blamed neither 
 Charity nor the Major. It was to her morbidly con- 
 scientious mind as though she herself had proved 
 
 72
 
 TODDIE 
 
 false to a solemn trust. Exaggerated as was this 
 conviction, it yet had its roots in the soil of bitter 
 personal experience. Seared by a great sorrow, the 
 one preoccupation of her troubled and unselfish heart 
 was to save this young and joyous life from a similar 
 catastrophe. Wistfully and with infinite pathos she 
 recalled the days when she, too, had trembled and 
 grown glad, when the world had seemed nothing but 
 a dream of color, and light, and music recalled also 
 the dark awakening, the abandonment, the despair. 
 
 Who shall ridicule her for her misgivings, extrava- 
 gant though they were? Who but must pity and 
 sympathize ? 
 
 She did not give in. Something could surely be 
 done ? What ? Resolutely she set herself to face the 
 situation. It was she, Devina, single-handed against 
 the oldest and most immutable law of nature. As she 
 recognized the might of the forces ranged against 
 her, there rose in her bosom a cold and deadly sensa- 
 tion of impotence. She strove to fight it down, angry 
 at her weakness, but it would not be dismissed. If 
 only she could find an ally, some one who shared her 
 views, some one whose interests and whose happiness 
 were equally at stake. But to whom could she turn? 
 To Charity? No. To one of her fellow servants? 
 Never.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 <T Tf TILL we be goin' oot this afternoon, sir? " 
 \ V The Major replied in the negative. 
 
 A gleam of satisfaction shone in Toddie's eyes. 
 
 " What will you do ? " questioned his master. 
 
 Toddie shifted the heavy bag. Their morning 
 round finished they were standing opposite the club- 
 house, in full view of the caddies' shelter. Out of 
 the tail of his eye Toddie could see Murdoch and 
 Hunter leaning on the railings. Hastily assuming 
 a confidential attitude, intended to convey to these 
 unbelievers that he and his master were deep in one 
 of the long and intimate talks of which he was in 
 the habit of boasting, he said gratefully:- 
 
 "Aweel, Major, this is verra kind o' ye verra 
 kind indeed. Ye see, I was asked to do a job, wheelin' 
 rubbish it was, oot o' Mister McCrae's garden. Ye 
 siee, these builder chaps have dumped it doon on his 
 bit grass, an' him that partic'lar. So Mister McCrae 
 up an' says to me, ' Toddie,' says he, ' I '11 give ye 
 tuppence a load to wheel it doon the lane.' Ye see, 
 he was standin' like as it might be you " 
 
 74
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I quite understand," interposed the Major. 
 " Good day." 
 
 Cut short in the full swing of recital, Toddie was 
 left with open mouth. And to make matters worse 
 an ironical laugh from Murdoch was unpleasantly 
 audible. 
 
 " Here, Maj or ! " he cried imploringly to the broad 
 retreating back. " Ye 're makin' an awful mistake. 
 That 's not what I 'm goin' to do at all." 
 
 Dale turned round. A look of long-suffering, se- 
 verely strained, pushed Toddie straight to the point. 
 
 " I 'm just goin' to take Bob for a run." 
 
 "Bob?" 
 
 " Aye. Ye 'd be astonished at his cleverness. 
 He 'd find oot I 'd been cartin' rubbish. He 'd smell 
 it on ma boots. He 'd be sair disappointed. Hoots, 
 naebody kens better nor you, Major, that when ye 
 have a dog dependin' on ye, ye canna just do as ye 
 like." 
 
 The Major smiled. Toddie flashed a triumphant 
 glance at Murdoch, then indulged in the whimsical 
 grimace he fondly imagined to be indicative of merri- 
 ment. 
 
 "That's so. That's a fact," he cried in high 
 good humour. " And you, Maj or, what are ye goin' 
 to do yerself ? " 
 
 For a moment Dale a person of no little dignity 
 was of a mind to administer a snub, but so guile- 
 
 75
 
 TODDIE 
 
 less and friendly was the little caddie, so transpar- 
 ently unaware of having overstepped the bounds of 
 professional etiquette, that he could not find it in his 
 heart to voice it. 
 
 " I 'm going out to tea," he announced gravely. 
 
 Long after the swing doors had snatched his mas- 
 ter from sight, Toddie stood staring blankly at the 
 club-house. 
 
 " Goin' oot to his tea," he muttered as he turned 
 away. " To his tea with her, I '11 be bound. Lorrd 
 help him ! " 
 
 Even the behavior of Bob wild with excitement 
 at the prospect of the unusual walk failed to dissi- 
 pate his melancholy. 
 
 The friends shaped their course for the sands 
 Toddie, silent, brooding, his head bent, his hands 
 plunged into his trousers pockets Bob, careering 
 far and wide savoring the joys of freedom excur- 
 sions to sample irresistible odors, alternating with re- 
 assuring and affectionate visits to his master. 
 
 Protracted dejection, however, that even the sight 
 of a sea-gull is unable to alleviate, is apt to prove in- 
 fectious. Bob began to realize that something was 
 wrong. Why was his master sad? It was unusual. 
 It was plainly necessary that he, Bob, should admin- 
 ister comfort. Full of this idea he laid a stick 
 proudly at Toddie's feet, then stood aside with loud 
 barks of joyous anticipation. But Toddie walked on. 
 
 76
 
 TODDIE 
 
 No whit discouraged, Bob repeated the perform- 
 ance. 
 
 " Bob," said Toddie, coming to a halt and rousing 
 himself, " Bob, I 'm not mindin' ye." 
 
 Bob looked with insinuating eagerness first at the 
 stick and then up into his master's face. 
 
 " I have nae heart for sticks the day," explained 
 Toddie. 
 
 Unwilling to disappoint the eager little creature, 
 however, he complied with the vociferous entreaties. 
 But it was a poor, half-hearted throw, and afforded 
 no real satisfaction to four active legs longing for 
 exercise. Even Bob was forced to admit that there 
 exist human moods that lie beyond the reach of sticks. 
 Giving it up as a bad job he came to heel. And thus 
 they fared forward, man and dog, two small and 
 slow-moving figures, over the wide and desolate 
 sands. 
 
 The afternoon was cheerless. Overhead, heavy and 
 ominous clouds passed sullenly. At times the bitter 
 wind fell upon the comrades, then fled seawards, 
 snatching at the waves and blowing backwards in 
 long fringes of foam. The dark line of dunes that 
 upreared themselves against the west, and lay like a 
 rampart between the beach and the links, stood out, 
 naked, full of gloom. When the wind lulled, the 
 sea could be heard moaning disconsolately. Behind 
 them, St. Andrews perched upon the gray cliffs was 
 
 77
 
 TODDIE 
 
 all but lost in the murky atmosphere. Nothing 
 moved, nothing was alive above and about this dreary 
 expanse save the mysteries of sea, and wind, and 
 cloud. Though but little after three o'clock, the 
 northern winter had already enshrouded the scene in 
 dusk. One might have said that night had come, 
 had it not been that low in the west, through a rift 
 in the wind-blown wrack, there still shone a lurid and 
 watery gleam. The pervading sentiment of the hour 
 and place was one of infinite melancholy. 
 
 Toddie, still a victim to forebodings, seated him- 
 self on a small hillock upon which tall and feathery 
 reeds bent to the fitful violence of the wind. Bob, 
 nothing loath, followed his example, nestling close to 
 his master's side for warmth and protection. He had 
 the air of one silent from sympathy. 
 
 " Bob," said Toddie suddenly, putting his arm 
 round the patient form, " Bob, he '11 be drinkin* his 
 tea the now." 
 
 Bob licked his lips. Toddie continued: 
 
 " I wish I knew what she was after. I mistrust 
 her. Women, they 're that soft ootside and that hard 
 inside, that an unsuspectin' man has nae chance at 
 all. Are ye listenin' ? " 
 
 Bob gave the required assurance. Toddie mean- 
 dered on: 
 
 " Ye see, it 's no' ma place to meddle. He 'd tell 
 me to mind ma ain business as if this wasna ma 
 
 78
 
 TODDIE 
 
 business, me that has carried for him five year come 
 Martinmas ! But I 'm bothered, I am indeed. He 's 
 nae match for her in craftiness scratch player and 
 all though he is. Book learnin' is all verra weel, but 
 when it comes to meddlin* with a woman, hoots, it 's 
 no more good to ye nor a split ball. What are ye 
 after now ? " 
 
 The remonstrance was not unreasonable, for Bob 
 was engaged in an attempt to bury himself inside his 
 master's waistcoat. 
 
 " Ye see," Toddie went on, obligingly unfastening 
 a button, " it 's help I 'm needin'. I can do nothin' 
 by maself . I 'm j ust a fool at the thinkin'. Man ! if 
 I could only find somebody Here ! for ony sake lie 
 doon, what are ye aboot ? " 
 
 A touch of exasperation rang in his voice, for Bob, 
 springing from his warm retreat, began to bark fu- 
 riously. His curiosity aroused, Toddie stared in the 
 direction indicated. He had not long to wait, for, 
 even as he looked, round an adjacent hillock, black 
 against the dark dunes and the ominous sky, came a 
 woman. 
 
 79
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 TODDIE sat still. So silently and unexpectedly 
 had the intruder appeared that he had neither 
 time to avoid her nor to retreat. At first he hoped 
 she would turn to the left where an opening in the 
 low hills led to the sea, but undisturbed by Bob's 
 outcry and apparently deep in thought she continued 
 to advance straight upon them. When she was 
 within a couple of yards it was with astonishment 
 that Toddie recognized Devina. 
 
 The recognition was mutual. Devina came ab- 
 ruptly to a standstill. 
 
 "You!" she ejaculated in a tone of disapproba- 
 tion. 
 
 " Aye, me," blurted Toddie defiantly. 
 
 Despite his courageous attitude he stared up at her 
 with considerable apprehension. Dressed as usual in 
 black, she loomed above him, dark against the dusky 
 background ; appeared indeed to be a symbol of it. 
 It was as though the desolate sands, shadow-haunted 
 and oppressed with imminent night, had metamor- 
 phosed themselves into her lonely form. 
 
 Not that Toddie was moved by any such fanciful 
 80
 
 TODDIE 
 
 imaginings. But her face held him. Singularly; 
 handsome, singularly masterful, from the steady eyes 
 to the firm mouth, its suggestion of underlying 
 strength troubled him, as did its expression of mel- 
 ancholy. This he vaguely felt with something 
 akin to awe was no shiftless, garrulous specimen of 
 her sex, such as he heard railing in Logic's Lane of 
 an evening, but a woman steadfast and sparing of un- 
 necessary speech as the Maiden Rock, that isolated 
 pinnacle that, breaking the iron coast-line to the 
 south, frowned down upon the sea. 
 
 " What are ye do in' out here ? " she demanded. 
 
 " The sands is free," he retorted. 
 
 She looked as though she would fain have con- 
 tradicted this statement. The silence that ensued was 
 long and full of hostile constraint. Ancient preju- 
 dices were at work in the minds of each. Yet neither 
 would speak, and neither would retreat. 
 
 From Toddie's point of view Bob's behavior at this 
 crisis was not only inexplicable but inexcusable. In- 
 stead of supporting his master, as in duty bound, he 
 by nature undemonstrative to strangers actu- 
 ally made friendly overtures to the enemy, and more 
 astounding still, they were accepted with a species of 
 grim toleration. 
 
 " That 's a nice wee dog," she said awkwardly. 
 
 " No' bad," muttered Toddie, scowling reproach at 
 Bob, but inwardly flattered. 
 6 81
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The wind swept down upon them, a cutting blast 
 that pierced to the bones, for the distant hills were 
 white with newly-fallen snow. Devina clutched at 
 her hat, and Toddie volunteered the information that 
 they were " bonnily protectet " by the sand-dunes, 
 but otherwise both seemed to take the inclemency of 
 the weather as a matter of course. 
 
 All around, upon the innumerable little hillocks 
 that dotted the higher sand-slopes, the dry and with- 
 ered reeds rustled mournfully. Behind the man and 
 woman the shadows were massing steadily and imper- 
 ceptibly. The light in the west had been slowly 
 blotted out. All was gray with an opacity that in- 
 creased momently, and sad with a sadness that rose 
 from the dead earth like an exhalation, moaned far 
 off in the voice of the sea and fell as a pall from 
 the starless sky. 
 
 Something in the loneliness and isolation of their 
 position, added to a craving for human sympathy, 
 inarticulate and almost unconscious, drew them to- 
 gether. In Toddie, as he looked up at her dark and 
 dominant figure, it gave birth to a wondering and 
 fearful curiosity that suddenly vented itself in the 
 question : " Do ye often walk oot here ? " 
 
 " Sometimes," she replied curtly. 
 
 " What for? " he blurted. 
 
 She looked at him as though she resented his ques- 
 tion, then said : " Thinking." 
 
 82
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " It 's a grand place for that," he assented, then 
 added, not without melancholy pride : " Me and Bob 
 was doin' a bit o' thinkin' oorselves." 
 
 But she betrayed no interest in this information. 
 
 There ensued another lengthy silence. 
 
 " I must be goin' home," said Devina. She spoke 
 as one waking from a dream, and drew her cloak more 
 tightly about her. 
 
 " There will be a tea-party at your house the day," 
 remarked Toddie gloomily. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Not a party ! " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "What! Just himself ?" 
 
 "Just who?" 
 
 "Himself. The Major." 
 
 The name stung her. She wheeled upon him. 
 
 " Is he there again ? " she cried thickly. 
 
 " He is." His master's voice caused Bob to prick 
 apprehensive ears. " I was afeared of it. I knew 
 it. Oh, never tell me ye didna ken. I dinna believe 
 ye. You that waits on her. There 's no trustin'.one 
 of ye. You women are all alike." 
 
 He had risen to his feet. Confronting her, for- 
 getful of his fear, he voiced in his accusations all the 
 pent-up apprehensions of his heart. 
 
 The outburst took Devina aback. It was a swift 
 and unforeseen turning of the tables. It anticipated 
 
 83
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and silenced the anger in her that cried aloud for ex- 
 pression. Ingrained suspicion arose, but was in- 
 stantly discarded, for it was impossible to listen to 
 this man and not credit him with absolute sincerity. 
 No resentment at the aspersions cast upon her sex held 
 place in her thoughts. Bewildered, she gazed through 
 the windy dusk at the small, thick-set form of her 
 antagonist threatening her with angry and strangely- 
 unwonted gestures. Then, for the first time, a faint 
 glimmer of hope broke upon her darkness. 
 
 " Why do you care ? " she said slowly. 
 
 The question was unexpected. It forced him to 
 think, to put into words much that was to him inex- 
 pressible. 
 
 " Why do you care ? " she repeated. 
 
 " Why do I care ? I care because weel, I do 
 care, but I 'm not goin' to tell you. I see what ye 're 
 after. It 's a trap." 
 
 " It s no trap," she cried. " It 's the truth I 'm 
 wantin*. Man, what have I to do with your feelin's? 
 It 's of her I 'm thinkin'." 
 
 Toddie gasped. "Of her? What of her?" he 
 ejaculated. 
 
 The question let loose the dark brood of fears that, 
 like poisonous snakes lived and preyed in secret upon 
 Devina's heart. In the short and often broken sen- 
 tences, where strong emotions struggled too often 
 inarticulately, there sounded a suggestion of personal 
 
 84
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and undying tragedy that became audible only under 
 cover of deep and unselfish anxiety for another. 
 
 Toddie, giving ear, semi-bewildered and awe-struck, 
 recognized his own apprehensions as in a mirror, and, 
 like objects seen in a mirror, facing the opposite way. 
 Her doubts did not appear to him so much distorted 
 as misapplied. Yet such as they were, they came 
 upon him with the startling suddenness of a revela- 
 tion. For the first time in his life he was made to 
 see that there existed another side the woman's 
 point of view and it was painted for him in colors 
 that flamed. 
 
 Gradually, when his first temptation to incredulity 
 had been overcome, it dawned upon his simple mind 
 that, though viewing the impending catastrophe from 
 different standpoints, their mental attitude towards 
 it was amazingly similar that Devina was as re- 
 solved to save her mistress, as he was determined to 
 protect his master. 
 
 This discovery revolutionized his outlook. It 
 chased away much of his hostility towards his com- 
 panion. Nay, more, by depriving her of the fearful- 
 ness due to her sex for he now viewed her not as a 
 woman but as an ally it almost banished his 
 timidity. 
 
 His mind teemed with new and remarkable thoughts, 
 in which Devina played the principal part. Master- 
 ful though she undoubtedly was, Toddie told him- 
 
 85
 
 TODDIE 
 
 self not without inward trepidation that she 
 would be but a tool in the hands of a capable man. 
 The idea flattered him. 
 
 Devina ceased to speak. She stood before him, 
 dark and tempestuous as the gathering night. Now 
 was the time. 
 
 " Me and you," began Toddie with extreme cau- 
 tion, and amazed to hear his own voice linking him 
 with a woman, " me and you wants the same thing." 
 
 He paused. There was that in his opening words 
 that reminded him of an election speech delivered once 
 in his hearing by the Liberal Parliamentary Candi- 
 date. The resemblance surprised, yet delighted him. 
 He had no idea he could be so eloquent. Somewhat 
 flushed, he tried to make out whether his companion 
 was duly impressed, but, owing to the dusk, failed 
 to see her expression. Trying to fit in the remem- 
 bered utterances of the popular demagogue with the 
 case in point, he continued: 
 
 " Ye may ask yerself no' withoot reason why I 'm 
 standin' up here the night. Weel, I '11 tell ye. We 
 wants the same thing. We 're sensible folk. We 
 see plain. We kens the danger that threatens us. 
 It 's a danger o' a danger o' dang it ! I canna 
 put it into words, but ye ken weel enough what I 
 mean." 
 
 Her gloomy affirmative consoled him for the break- 
 down. He continued : " We wants the same thing. 
 
 86
 
 TODDIE 
 
 It 's like this. What I mean is, two heads are better 
 nor one, even if one o' them has the misfortune to be 
 a woman. But it will no' be easy. I can see that. 
 But hoots, we '11 just save him in spite o' himself." 
 
 " Her," corrected Devina sternly. 
 
 " Weel, if ye do the one thing ye do the ither. 
 But what I was minded to say dinna speak or ye '11 
 put it oot o' ma head was this, me and you must 
 work thegither. It 's what the Maj or was say in' 
 only last week " 
 
 " What 's he to do wi' it?" interrupted the deep 
 voice with scorn. 
 
 "Whisht, till I tell ye. Toddie,' says he, and 
 verra pleasant he was for we 'd won oor match five up 
 and four to play. ' Toddie, it 's workin' thegither 
 does it.' Now you " carried away by his subject 
 he would have laid an explanatory forefinger on her 
 arm, but she avoided him. " You in the house and 
 me on the links is no good at all. Ye see that? " 
 
 She acquiesced reluctantly. 
 
 " Aye," he went on, " no good at all that is, 
 withoot we meet. Oh, it 's a misfortune I grant ye 
 that: but, mind ye, I do it for the Major's sake. I 
 do believe I 'd foregather wi' the deil himself if it 
 would pleesure him." 
 
 She listened grimly. 
 
 " What would ye advise ? " she inquired, after a 
 pause. 
 
 87
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie could scarcely believe his ears. She this 
 big fearsome woman was actually asking his ad- 
 vice ! A gush of unusual self-importance inflated his 
 chest. But, mastering this weakness, he frowned. 
 
 " I canna tell ye the now. I must think it oot. I 
 do most o' ma thinkin' wi' Bob. But never you fear, 
 I '11 tell ye sure enough when we meet." 
 
 " And when will that be? " 
 
 Toddie had to listen attentively, for her voice was 
 all but carried away by the wind. He could scarcely 
 see her save as a blur against the deeper shadows of 
 the sand-hills. It was as if he were addressing a 
 phantom. 
 
 " Friday ? " he proposed, after thought. 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Weel, Saturday then?" 
 
 " I canna come except on ma day out that 's 
 once a fortnight. And I 'm no' goin' to have the 
 likes of you hangin' aboot the house on ma account." 
 
 " But it 's no' on your account," he blurted, with 
 alarm. 
 
 " Weel, I 'm not goin' to stand it onyway." 
 
 Toddie snorted. 
 
 " Ye 're difficult," he said testily. 
 
 " I 'm not. I 'm doin' more than I like to think 
 about, and that 's tellin* ye. It 's a fool-like business 
 onyway. Still, if ye want to see me you must just 
 make some other plan." 
 
 88
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddle scratched his head. 
 
 " I 'd no idea there was such difficulty aboot meetin' 
 a woman ! " he confessed naively, " but I '11 tell ye 
 ye might be taken sick, an' forced to run for the doc- 
 tor. Women are aye delicate, I hear." 
 
 But Devina murdered this proposal with scorn. 
 
 " Aweel," he said wearily, " choose yourself. It 's 
 no' ma fancy to spend the night here, an' Bob 's 
 wantin' his supper." 
 
 Devina pondered long. 
 
 " Cook and Jessie are goin' to a dance on Satur- 
 day night," she began grudgingly. 
 
 " The day after to-morrow ? That 's awful soon. 
 It was the week after, I meant." 
 
 " That '11 be too late ; it 's now or never. Are ye 
 for drawin' back? " 
 
 " No, no," he protested. 
 
 " Weel, then, if you think o' onything that makes 
 it worth ma while to waste time on ye, come round to 
 the back door aboot nine o'clock." 
 
 " I '11 come," he muttered with resignation. 
 
 Then, side by side, and in constrained silence, they 
 wended their way towards the town. 
 
 89
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE compact made on the sands was faithfully 
 adhered to. Not once but several times did the 
 conspirators meet to exchange news and to concoct 
 plans. Devina's attendance upon her mistress of- 
 fered perhaps greater facilities for the exercise of 
 influence and observation than did the more mechan- 
 ical and peripatetic servitude of Toddie, but so fear- 
 ful was she of loosening the bands of intimacy and 
 confidence, that, though filled with anxiety, she did 
 not dare to voice it. 
 
 As for Toddie, when in the presence of the Major 
 he was equally mute at least so far as his secret 
 apprehensions were concerned. Ever since the day 
 of humiliation, when his master had played golf with 
 a woman, he had been the prey of fears that drove 
 him daily to consult the starting list with an anxious 
 heart, and turned the Major's engagement book into 
 an object of enthralling but troubled curiosity. 
 
 Many a time did Toddie eye it enviously. 
 
 " Who did ye say we were playin' to-morrow ? " he 
 had inquired upon one occasion with the air of a man 
 apologizing for a defective memory, and the infor- 
 
 90
 
 TODDIE 
 
 mation elicited: "And who the next day?" This 
 unusual interest had caused Dale to inspect his cad- 
 die with astonishment, and such was the gravity, not 
 to say severity, of his aspect when under the influ- 
 ence of this emotion, that the abashed Toddie rum- 
 bled from incoherent excuses to penitential silence. 
 
 Forced to withdraw into inarticulate depths, he con- 
 tented himself with gazing at his master with such 
 mournful intensity, such unexpressed and inexpressi- 
 ble affection and commiseration that Dale was moved 
 at last to remonstrate. 
 
 " What 's the matter with you, Toddie ? " he cried. 
 " Are you ill? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then for goodness' sake look cheerful. You '11 
 put me off my game." 
 
 A foozled approach confirmed the prognostication ; 
 and Toddie, swiftly overtaken by remorse, strove hard 
 for the remainder of the match to school his features 
 to a deceitful serenity. 
 
 But he eased his mind on the subject when next he 
 met Devina. 
 
 " Ye see," he mourned, " ma verra face Is no' mine, 
 for how can I call it mine when it isna allowed to look 
 as it likes? Na, na, looks has become a luxury I 
 canna afford. I 'm just miserable. When I see him 
 playin' a grand game seventy-five it was yester- 
 day, every putt holed wi' marriage just hangin' 
 
 91
 
 TODDIE 
 
 over his unsuspectin' head, I say, when I see that, it 
 sends ma heart into ma boots or rather into his 
 own boots," he added with mournful exactitude, be- 
 stowing a glance at the Major's cast-off property. 
 
 These meetings were a consolation to them both. 
 Begun with disinclination and even distaste they grad- 
 ually came to be a something to which to look for- 
 ward, if not with conscious pleasure, at least with 
 feelings of melancholy alleviation. The opportunity 
 for voicing anxieties, for railing at marriage, for be- 
 moaning those instincts that drive even the best of 
 men, and the most perfect of women, to seek a peril- 
 ous and unaccountable pleasure in each other's so- 
 ciety, came as a welcome relief to both. 
 
 It was inevitable that they should have occasional 
 differences of opinion. Toddie was severe upon the 
 vice of feminine tea-parties, which he darkly stigma- 
 tized as traps for unwary men. Devina was equally 
 withering upon the sin of male visitors. She would 
 point out that the devil a regular visitor was 
 a male. " And does he no' go about seekin' whom 
 he may devour? " she would cry triumphantly. 
 
 Her partiality for unpleasant Scriptural quota- 
 tions tried Toddie sorely. Crawling reluctantly to 
 their first assignation, he found her seated at the 
 kitchen table, poring with knitted brows over an open 
 Bible. He was about to inquire for her health, when 
 she stayed him with a gesture. 
 
 92
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Here it is," she cried with a triumphant glance 
 in his direction. " Mark this : * Withhold thy foot 
 from thy neighbor's house, lest he weary of thee and 
 so hate thee.' ' 
 
 Toddie, one foot upon the threshold, withdrew it in 
 dismay. 
 
 " Who 's thinkin' of you," she cried, and her scorn 
 was cutting. " It 's yer master I mean." 
 
 With a mixture of relief and indignation he en- 
 tered the kitchen and verified the quotation. 
 
 " Aye," he muttered reluctantly, " there 's no de- 
 nyin' that 's what he says. But, hoots, it 's weel 
 he didna ken the Major. Hate him! Ma word, I 
 wish she would. It 's her lovin' him that 's the dan- 
 ger." 
 
 One dark night they met at the corner of Gibson 
 Place. 
 
 " Onythin' new? " inquired Devina curtly. 
 
 " He would n't eat but the one egg for his break- 
 fast," said Toddie gloomily. 
 
 "How d'ye know?" 
 
 " I seed him through the window." He sighed, 
 then added : " The ither was bad." 
 
 Her snort of indignation seemed to him to betray 
 a deplorable want of sympathy. 
 
 " And yer mistress I suppose she 's weel 
 enough? " he asked with some bitterness. 
 
 " She sneezed twice at her tea."
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddle's inconsiderate laughter was the reason of 
 their parting with additional coolness. 
 
 Upon another occasion one fine Sunday after- 
 noon they met in the ruined cathedral. The con- 
 versation turned upon the Major. 
 
 " The very way he walks before ye up the stair 
 tells ye he means it," said Devina despondently. 
 
 " Aye," assented Toddie with ready admiration, 
 " he 's a hard man to beat, is the Major." 
 
 "That jaw o' his," continued Devina with sup- 
 pressed indignation. " He just sets it at ye. He 's 
 that big, and slow, and sure ; when I see him standin' 
 on our front step he puts me in mind o' a mountain, 
 and I just wish I 'd faith enough to cast him into the 
 sea, so I do." 
 
 " Ah, but ye couldna keep him there ! " cried his 
 admirer exultantly. " He 'd get oot in spite of ye." 
 Then sobering, and shaking a pensive head: " I 
 sometimes think he 's what Professor Hay calls a wise 
 law o' nature, bound to have its way. There 's 
 nothin' that man couldna do if he liked. He could 
 get on the town council to-morrow but he 's not 
 carin'. Slow and sure, is he? Weel, and what if 
 he is? Is that no' ma advice to him every single 
 blessed day? Hoots, away wi' ye, woman, ye 're just 
 praisin' him withoot meanin' it." 
 
 She looked at him with unusual intentness. He re- 
 turned her gaze, his face flushed with enthusiasm. 
 
 94
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " You 're staunch," she said slowly, and it ap- 
 peared as though she were actuated by a grudging 
 and involuntary approval. Toddie, much embar- 
 rassed, turned the conversation to a tombstone. 
 
 They seated themselves on a low and broken wall, 
 more by reason of the unseasonable warmth, than 
 from sociability. An elusive suggestion of spring was 
 in the air. Above the crenelated line of ruins, the 
 sun sent rays that gladdened the heart. The moist 
 earth, that lay so lightly upon the many dead, seemed 
 to stir in its wintry rest, as though dreaming of flow- 
 ers. This plot of sanctified soil that had witnessed 
 strange and stirring scenes, bloodshed and the stormy 
 passions of men, seemed now content to watch and 
 wait in obedience to some Divine command. Far be- 
 low, but hidden from sight by the Cathedral wall, 
 lay the sea, an emblem of the world's unrest; but 
 on the summit of the cliff, in God's acre, there was 
 peace. 
 
 The quiet and pensive serenity unconsciously at- 
 tuned the spirits of Toddie and Devina to subjects 
 unconnected with the avowed object of their meeting. 
 
 " A place like this makes ye think," said Devina, 
 her eyes on a family vault. 
 
 "It does that," assented Toddie. "I wish Bob 
 was here." 
 
 " They was all like us once," she continued, waving 
 her umbrella at the tombstones. " And no' sae lang 
 
 95
 
 TODDIE 
 
 syne maybe full o' the lust o' life eatin' and 
 drinkin' and thinkin' o' their clothes. And where are 
 they now? I ask ye where? " 
 
 Her listener, secretly uncomfortable, made haste to 
 disclaim all responsibility. But Devina scarcely 
 heard him. For some time she remained plunged in 
 gloomy thought, then suddenly fixing Toddie with a 
 disconcerting and prophetic eye, said solemnly : " Me 
 and you will be like them soon." 
 
 " Hoots, no I " ejaculated Toddie with heat. " Not 
 for a matter o' thirty, or maybe forty year." 
 
 " What 's that compared wi' eternity ? See that 
 auld tombstone? Nae doot it covers a man, perhaps 
 a caddie like you. And now ye canna even read his 
 name." 
 
 " He 's not carin'," cried Toddie sturdily. " Nae 
 doot he's better off where he is. Maybe he had a 
 wife, poor chap." 
 
 " What 's that to do wi' it? " 
 
 " Everythin'. D' ye mind Abraham's bosom? " 
 
 She assented suspiciously. 
 
 " Weel, ye '11 not deny Lazarus had a bad time o' 
 it. What wi' sores, and one thing and anither, he 
 couldna have had worse if he 'd been born a caddie. 
 Weel, does he fash himself over a silly tombstone 
 now? No' likely! The Lorrd has made it up to 
 him though I 'm no' keen on onybody's bosom ma- 
 self," he added truthfully. 
 
 96
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Devina listened, divided between disapproval and 
 bewilderment. 
 
 " Aye," went on Toddie more cheerfully, " I may 
 be wrong, but it 's the way I think. It 's like the 
 golf. It 's what I tell the Maj or. If ye 're off yer 
 game the one day, ye 're on it the next. Here ! I '11 
 tell ye a story. D' ye mind Jock McClusky him 
 we used to call pimple-face? I see ye don't. Weel, 
 that man was like Job, he lost every mortal thing he 
 had 'except his wife. She had jaundice wi' just 
 awful complications, but, hoots, naethin' could kill 
 the woman. McClusky bore it like a man better 
 nor Job ; ye didna find him sittin' idle on a dungheap ; 
 he just hoed turnips. ' Toddie,' says he, ' the Lorrd 
 will make it up to me.' ' In Heaven ? ' says I. ' No,' 
 says he, ' on earth.' We all thought he was daft wi' 
 grief. But one day there comes a man who says to 
 him : * Are you Jock McClusky ? ' ' That 's me,' 
 says he. * Weel,' says the man, ' yer brither Tarn 
 has died in America and left ye twa hundred thou- 
 sand pounds.' ' That 's a tidy bit o' money,' says 
 McClusky, * if ye just take a seat till I 've finished 
 thae turnips I '11 speak to ye.' Ye see, Devina, he 
 never kenned his brither was alive at all, but he had 
 faith in the Lorrd. Is that no' a bonnie story? " 
 
 " It 's no' to ma taste," answered Devina sourly. 
 
 This reception not encouraging further anecdote, 
 Toddie relapsed into a depressed silence. He was 
 7 97
 
 TODDIE 
 
 wondering what on earth had induced him to waste 
 his Sabbath when she spoke again. 
 
 " He 's over there." 
 
 " Who? " cried Toddie with a start. But when he 
 had gazed in the direction indicated by her forefinger, 
 his equanimity returned, for not a soul was to be 
 seen. 
 
 " Father." Devina made this announcement in the 
 gloomy yet important tones with which the Scottish 
 lower orders are in the habit of referring to their 
 departed. " We buried him under yon wall. It 's 
 real bonnie; the snowdrops will be comin' up soon. 
 Poor father " She sighed. " He was aye hot 
 and impatient in the flesh, but he 's cold enough 
 now." 
 
 " I wouldna make too sure o' that," said Toddie 
 cautiously. 
 
 "What d'ye mean?" 
 
 " Ye were lucky to find yer father's corp," he con- 
 tinued hastily. " They never found mine." 
 
 " Dearie me, is that so? " 
 
 " It 's a fact. Mither was awful disappointed, I 
 hear." 
 
 Devina's eyes softened. 
 
 " The sea 's bound to give him back to her." 
 
 " Umph, maybe. But seein' that she 's been dead 
 a matter o' thirty years, she canna be expected to take 
 much interest in the funeral." 
 
 98
 
 TODDIE 
 
 For a short time neither spoke. Devina, whose 
 brows were puckered, stole a glance at her compan- 
 ion, but Toddie was innocently occupied in examining 
 a thumb nail. 
 
 " Why did ye say ' maybe '? " she demanded. 
 
 " Weel, ye never can tell what the sea will be after. 
 Whiles it 's laughin' and dimplin' like like a wee 
 baby, and whiles it just roars at ye like a woman in 
 drink. Na, na, I wouldna trust it to give onythin' 
 back." 
 
 " But the Lorrd 's promised it." 
 
 " Ye mean when there will be nae mair sea? " 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " And ye think the man will just be left high and 
 dry? " 
 
 Her brows gathered ominously. 
 
 " That 's no way to talk o' the wonders o' the 
 Lorrd. I fear me ye 're irreleegious." 
 
 Toddie avoided her eye. 
 
 " Who d' ye sit under? " she said sternly. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " D' ye never go to Kirk at all? " she cried aghast. 
 
 He held up a protesting hand. To his surprise 
 and even consternation, this woman's good opinion 
 suddenly struck him as worth possessing. 
 
 " I will not deceive ye," he said earnestly, .and 
 Devina, marking him closely, was impressed with his 
 air of ingenuous veracity. " I will not deceive ye. 
 
 99
 
 TODDIE 
 
 I dinna trouble the meenister reg'lar like, but I 'm not 
 what ye would call irreleegious. Na, na; I do ma 
 best. I thank the Lorrd for all His goodness, the 
 bonnie sunshine, like the day ; and the gale we had 
 last week. For His mercies too, Bob and the Major, 
 and His havin' preserved me a bachelor." 
 
 "What next!" she ejaculated. 
 
 " Aye," cried Toddie warmly. " Ye may scoff. 
 But you 're a sort o' female bachelor yourself. And 
 more nor that. Here ! you 're great on Scripture, 
 what says the Apostle Paul aboot bachelors ? He aye 
 like them fine. He was one himself. Ye see, I ken 
 ma Bible." 
 
 To this outburst Devina found no answer, but a 
 feeling of having been knocked down with her own 
 weapon lent indignation to her eye. 
 
 Toddie, pausing in a flush of triumph, wiped his 
 face on his coat sleeve. An exclamation of strong 
 disapprobation caused him to start. 
 
 "Where's your handkerchief?" questioned De- 
 vina. 
 
 " I havena got one," he answered sulkily. 
 
 " D' ye always do that? " 
 
 " N-a, not always." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 He ventured another look at her. She was sitting 
 at some little distance from him, bolt upright. The 
 last rays of the sun shone full upon her face, lending 
 
 100
 
 TODDIE 
 
 to it an indescribably prevailing and even compelling 
 quality. Recognizing this, Toddie's heart sank. 
 
 " Aweel," he muttered awkwardly, picking the plas- 
 ter out of the interstices in the wall, " there 's some 
 days when ma coat does the job fine; and there's 
 ithers when I 'm that warm I 'm just forced to take 
 to the flags. Aye," he continued, answering the in- 
 terrogation in her eye, " the golf flags." 
 
 " And what do the gentlemen say to that? " 
 
 Toddie pondered. " Aweel," he said at length, 
 with a reminiscent smile, " the ither day Friday it 
 was we 'd finished the match and I was polishin' up 
 the flag, when Mr. Gibb says to me : a very pleas- 
 ant gentleman is Mr. Gibb, he ay has his joke. 
 ' Toddie,' says he, * where 's your handkerchief? ' ' I 
 never had one,' says I. * Hoots, man ! ' says he, 
 ' ye 've eighteen.' " 
 
 Before Devina could vent her feelings, the sound 
 of approaching footsteps caused them both to look 
 anxiously over their shoulders. Strolling towards 
 them came a man whom Toddie recognized as Herd. 
 As he neared them his habitual expression of bland 
 self-complacency gave place to one of incredulous 
 amazement. 
 
 " Toddie 1 " he ejaculated. 
 
 " Just me," grunted Toddie. 
 
 Herd's eyes, more and more amazed, wandered from 
 Toddie to Devina, and back again to Toddie, then 
 
 101
 
 TODDIE 
 
 gradually a broad and meaning smile made its ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " I 'm sorry to disturb ye," he began with feigned 
 gravity. But the effort was apparently beyond him, 
 for, breaking off, he exploded into a shameless guf- 
 faw, and hastened along the path. 
 
 " Eediot ! " shot forth Devina, gazing with pro- 
 found contempt at his retreating form. " He '11 be 
 a friend o' yours," she added scathingly. 
 
 Toddie shook an emphatic head. 
 
 " I canna bear the man. He just lives on a dog. 
 He 's queer at times, but I 've never seen him as bad 
 as this. I wonder what like 's the matter wi' him." 
 
 Devina flashed a suspicious glance, but her com- 
 panion's open countenance revealed only a simple- 
 minded astonishment. 
 
 " Ye see," he continued, " Herd's notions o' hon- 
 esty are not easy accounted for, so it 's kind .o' nat- 
 ural that his idea o' a joke should be beyond oor 
 comprehension too. But, ma conscience, it was a 
 sair misfortune his catchin' us thegither." 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, but despite the firmness of her 
 voice, her mind misgave her. 
 
 " Because," he explained earnestly, gazing full in 
 her face and wagging a stumpy forefinger, " Herd 's 
 an awful one at the talkin'. It '11 be all over St. An- 
 drews the morn. Me and you workin' thegither 
 partners, ye may say. I hope to goodness it doesna 
 
 102
 
 TODDIE 
 
 get to the Major's ears, for that would spoil our 
 chance. But one grand thing is the Major will not 
 listen to silly gossip. Have I not noticed it many 's 
 the time? ' Your shot,' says he, in that quiet voice o' 
 his and the ither gentleman has to shut up. Na, na, 
 ye never hear him say onything aboot onybody but 
 what 's kind. And more " he added, bringing an 
 emphatic fist down upon the wall, " he wouldna be- 
 lieve I was with you, he 's that slow to think ill o* 
 folk." 
 
 108
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE tacit understanding that existed between 
 the conspirators was that, although a place and 
 hour of meeting for the next interview was decided 
 upon each time before they parted, yet should one 
 of them lack matter of importance to communicate, 
 he or she would be excused from keeping the ap- 
 pointment. 
 
 Toddie and Devina had been remarkably unani- 
 mous upon this point. 
 
 " If I dinna see ye," Toddie had remarked, " I '11 
 ken fine ye have naething to say. It will be an awful 
 relief." 
 
 " Aye," Devina had assented with unusual alacrity, 
 " and if I 'm there and you dinna come, I '11 go a walk 
 by maself. It '11 be something to look forward to." 
 
 " That 's it," Toddie had ejaculated with hearty 
 approval. " That way we '11 see nae mair of each 
 ither than we can help. Ma worrd ! " he came near 
 to beaming upon her "You and me understands 
 each ither fine. Good day." 
 
 At the club steps one morning about lunch-time a 
 conversation took place between Dale and his satel- 
 lite. 
 
 104.
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Can't carry for me this afternoon ! " exclaimed 
 the astonished Maj or. " Why not ? " 
 
 " Weel, ye see, Major," explained Toddie with an 
 air of chastened melancholy, " it 's no' to pleesure ma- 
 self. Na, na, if I was to think o' that, I 'd rather 
 be oot on the links wi' you, for ye 're sure to beat him 
 again easy. But " and he wagged a dismal head, 
 " I have what ye may call a duty to perform." 
 
 Dale looked attentively at his caddie. Something 
 in the pious resignation of Toddie's features, some- 
 thing solemn and suggestive of sorrow, induced his 
 master to sink his voice to hushed and sympathetic 
 comprehension. 
 
 " I see, Toddie. No need to say more. Of course 
 I '11 excuse you." He was turning away, when, 
 prompted by curiosity, he inquired : " At what hour 
 does it take place? " 
 
 " Three o'clock," mumbled Toddie unwillingly. 
 
 " In the Cathedral grounds, I suppose." 
 
 Genuinely alarmed now, the conspirator looked 
 up at his master. Could anything be hid from one 
 so uncannily omniscient? 
 
 " Na," he faltered, " not this time." 
 
 " Where then? " pursued Dale, considerably mys- 
 tified. 
 
 " Doon at the harbor. Just ootside the Bell Rock 
 Inn, sir." 
 
 "What! In the street? Nonsense!" 
 105
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Na, it 's no nonsense. That 's the place right 
 enough. I 'm to be there the day weather per- 
 mittin'." 
 
 " But I don't understand. You can't bury 
 him there." 
 
 The golf -bag nearly dropped from Toddie's arm. 
 
 " Bury! Bury, Major? " 
 
 " Of course; is n't it a funeral? " 
 
 " Gude sakes, no ! It 's a sort o' unpleasant ap- 
 pointment I just canna get oot of. Funeral 1 Ma 
 conscience! That must be a joke." And suddenly 
 throwing back his head, and distending his mouth to 
 its uttermost, Toddie indulged in his irrepressible 
 chuckle. 
 
 " Ye '11 excuse me, Maj or," he said, sobering 
 hastily as he marked the contraction of his master's 
 bushy eyebrows ; " I ken it 's an awful liberty to 
 laugh at your jokes, but I just canna help it. The 
 idea o' comparin' her tae a funeral " 
 
 " Who? " demanded the Major. 
 
 Toddie stopped short. The consciousness of hav- 
 ing nearly betrayed the great secret lent an expres- 
 sion of pathetic indecision to his face. 
 
 " And " continued his master sternly, " what 
 about me? Did n't I engage you by the month? " 
 
 " Ye did," assented Toddie, highly relieved and 
 speaking with great earnestness, " and proud I am of 
 it. Oh, never think I 'm not grateful, sir. I '11 never 
 
 106
 
 TODDIE 
 
 do it again if I can help it. And I '11 no' see you a 
 loser, for I 've fixed it up with Murdoch to carry for 
 ye. Oh, a mere matter o' eighteenpence. If he 
 doesna give ye full satisfaction, come to me. I 've 
 lectured the man ; I 've told him to mind ye to keep 
 yer head doon, and he 's promised tae hold his breath 
 on the greens, and to get behind yer back if it 's pos- 
 sible. I '11 not deny I 'm anxious, for it 's not every 
 one would suit you, Ma j or. When you 're put oot 
 there 's a glare in your eyes would just give ony 
 common caddie convulsions. But Murdoch 's pre- 
 pared for the worst : and I don't mind tellin' you, sir, 
 I 've promised him a penny if ye win, for says I tae 
 him: 'The Major's awful grumpy if he's doon, 
 but real pleasant and friendly when he 's up.' No 
 offense to you, sir, verra natural ; shows a fine sportin' 
 spirit that does ye credit, I 'm sure." 
 
 Having personally conducted the start, with hoarse 
 mutters of warning to the substitute, and respectful 
 entreaties to the Major to " go in and win," Toddie 
 found himself free to dispose of the afternoon. 
 
 " Found himself free " is a misleading expression, 
 and one that is pointed with the bitter barb of irony ; 
 for was not the hapless Toddie bound to see the wheels 
 of this inevitable appointment, even as captives in a 
 Roman Triumph to the chariot of their conqueror? 
 
 She would be waiting for him, the grim, handsome 
 woman, at three o'clock precisely no hope of her 
 
 107
 
 TODDIE 
 
 being late, no such feminine weakness as a complacent 
 unpunctuality in that alarmingly well-regulated na- 
 ture. Toddie sighed profoundly. He knew what 
 would happen so well. He would see her a long way 
 off, from the top of the brae that led down to the 
 harbor, and at the sight his heart would conceal itself 
 precipitantly in the Major's boots, and, as long as she 
 was there, would absolutely refuse to return to the 
 comfort of its owner's warm and manly breast. He 
 would near her with slow reluctance, vainly cudgel- 
 ling his brains in search of an excuse for having kept 
 her waiting anticipating the scathing reproach and 
 the disapproving glance which were sure to find him 
 speechless, awed, exasperated, yet incomprehensibly 
 spell-bound by the overmastering dominance of her 
 presence. 
 
 He pondered over all this gloomily as he walked 
 slowly back to Logic's Lane. 
 
 What a fool he had been to allow himself to be be- 
 guiled into these assignations. And yet there was 
 no denying that she was handsome. Catch him doing 
 it again, if only he were well out of it this time. And 
 yet her eyes ! Aye, and that turn of her head 
 and the queer feeling she gave a man at times when 
 she forgot to be alarming ! Devil take the woman ! 
 He kicked an unoffending stone with the warmth of 
 a purely personal rancor. He would think about 
 her no more. She was a sort of disease. Yes, suffi- 
 
 108
 
 TODDIE 
 
 cient unto the day was the evil thereof and had he 
 not a blessed half hour to be free, and manly, and 
 happy ? And yet and yet . He frowned por- 
 tentously. 
 
 It was just as he came face to face with a linen- 
 draper's window that Toddie came to an abrupt stand- 
 still. What moved him so strangely? What de- 
 prived him almost of breath? It could not have been 
 the lady in the fashionable stays upon whose picture 
 his eyes were eagerly riveted, for, truth to tell, he 
 did not even see her. She was a mere coincidence 
 a type or symbol of the feminine arming herself for 
 the inevitable combat; aye, protecting her heart 
 if she had one, the hussy! with the very bones of 
 whales. But the innocent Toddie gazed past and be- 
 yond her, straight at the dawn of some glad possibil- 
 ity, at the light of some unexpected and radiant prom- 
 ise of emancipation. Under this joyous influence he 
 gave vent to a loud and cheerful guffaw. Then, sud- 
 denly, overcome with shame, for the passers-by were 
 betraying unfeigned amazement at the sight of a 
 caddie laughing hilariously at a Parisian corset, he 
 lurched onwards, muttering to himself the while. 
 
 " No news ! I 've naethin' to tell her. I needna 
 go. That 's a grand idea. I never thought o' that. 
 I'll bide at hame. Na, I'll take Bob for a walk. 
 He '11 be fair off his head, the beastie ; aye, wi' sur- 
 prise and pleesure. I wonder what she '11 do ? I 'm 
 
 109
 
 TODDIE 
 
 not carin'. Maybe she '11 sit on the pier and throw 
 stones into the water. But, hoots, a woman canna 
 throw straight. Maybe she '11 be expectin' me. 
 Weel, what if she does ? Let her expect I It 's none 
 o' ma business. I canna make news oot o' naethin'." 
 
 Reaching his home, he let himself in and was en- 
 thusiastically welcomed by Bob. But it was towards 
 the grandfather's clock that his anxious glance was 
 directed. 
 
 " Quarter to three," he soliloquized. " Doon, 
 Bob; doon! She'll just be leavin' Gibson Place. I 
 can see that black bonnet o' hers. Aye, aye, nae 
 doot it sets her off fine. Bob, ma mannie, what d 'ye 
 say to a walk? Ah, I thought it would pleesure ye; 
 but no need to worry ma trousers. She '11 be in 
 North Street now. It seems a peety she should have 
 that trouble. I wonder what she 's got to tell me ? " 
 
 Peeling inexplicably restless, he rose to his feet, 
 crossed to the little window, gazed at the blank wall 
 upon the opposite side of the lane as though he 
 fully expected it to make up his vacillating mind, 
 then, still absorbed in thought, returned to the fire- 
 place. 
 
 For a whole minute he sat contemplating Bob with 
 awful intentness, to the no small discomfiture of that 
 sagacious animal who, convinced that he had been 
 discovered in wrong-doing, gave voice to sundry little 
 whines of protest and propitiation. Then, suddenly, 
 
 110
 
 TODDIE 
 
 propelled thereto by some inward force, his eyes again 
 sought the clock. 
 
 "Eight minutes now," he muttered; "I've just 
 time but no I 'm ashamed of ye, Toddie. Be 
 a man. Can ye no* keep to what ye said? And 
 yet I 'm no' so sure it 's a sensible plan after all. 
 Bob, dinna scratch, ye deevil ! I see ye fine. It 's 
 this way the woman may have found oot some- 
 thin' verra important. I ought to hear it. And 
 then, anither thing, it looks awful like as I was 
 af eared of her. Ma word ! I 'm no' af eared of ony 
 woman ! I '11 let her see. Then maybe if I 'm not 
 there she '11 think me unceevil. I 'd be sorry for 
 that, for after all the woman 's a woman." He 
 sighed deeply, thrust his legs out, and shook his head 
 at the keen, questioning eyes that were watching him 
 from somewhere about the altitude of his knee. 
 
 " This will never do, Bob. I see fine ye 're anx- 
 ious. Ye wouldna have yer master misjudged, would 
 ye? What's that ye 're say in'? Ye 'd like to go 
 to the harbor? Mind ye, it 's not for me, I 'm not 
 carin', but I 'd be sorry to disappoint you, for there 's 
 no denyin' that for a dog ye take a real sensible in- 
 terest in the boats. Come on." 
 
 Ill
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE afternoon was fine, although the sun, fully 
 occupied no doubt in shining upon other and 
 more favored localities, held himself sternly aloof. 
 But Toddie was too much engrossed with his own af- 
 fairs to miss the sunshine, and, even had he been less 
 self-centered, it is open to argument whether he would 
 have given the absentee a thought. 
 
 St. Andrews is a child of the North a child of 
 the sea cradled on cliffs brooded over by 
 storms clad in sea-mists, and half lights, and veils 
 of veering vapor gray and desolate as her own 
 naked rocks inured to cold and rough weather as 
 the sea-gulls that flit around her ruined towers, and 
 live their wild free life on wind-blown surges and 
 wind-swept sand. 
 
 Toddie was a piece of St. Andrews. Its clean 
 caller air had made him the man he was, sound in 
 limb and weather-beaten in aspect. Something of 
 her air of reticence, her elemental picturesqueness, 
 her self-respecting sufficiency, and uncompromising 
 independence had found its way into his bluff man- 
 ner and honest face. It is morally certain that his
 
 TODDIE 
 
 suspicion of all strangers, save only those who con- 
 tributed directly to his income, was derived from his 
 surroundings. His primitive idea of a joke, too, 
 might be traced to the same source. Could you im- 
 agine the Cathedral retailing a good ecclesiastical 
 story to the Castle presumably chuckled along the 
 subterranean passage and the two venerable ruins, 
 forgetful of age, dignity and infirmities, fairly ex- 
 ploding into peals of jolly laughter I say could 
 you imagine this, then you might imagine Toddie 
 appreciating a Southern witticism. 
 
 These points of resemblance might be added to 
 indefinitely. For example, his inability to whistle a 
 tune correctly, or even recognizably, Toddie owed 
 to the town band; and his error in mistaking the 
 odor of garbage for ozone, to the town council. 
 His noblest conception of drama was undoubtedly 
 " Pierrots," and his most enlightened and refined 
 entertainment the annual fair. Yes, Toddie was ex- 
 traordinarily like St. Andrews. 
 
 A person like a town? Why not? Nothing more 
 common. We have all of us been unfortunate enough 
 to meet a man like Glasgow, and a woman like Dun- 
 dee. You cannot mistake them, any more than you 
 could mistake a dog like Skye, or a pony like Shet- 
 land. Then again, people who live constantly to- 
 gether, grow, we are told, to resemble each other. 
 It is the price we all pay for propinquity. And 
 8 118
 
 TODDIE 
 
 what more natural than that Toddie, who had neither 
 kith nor kin, wife nor bairn, should make good the 
 omission by personifying and resembling his native 
 town. The likeness was of course unconscious. No 
 one would have been more astonished than he, had 
 you drawn his attention to the fact. Had you done 
 so, it is more than probable that he would have 
 thought you were " getting at him," a form of 
 erudite humor too subtle to be encouraged, too per- 
 sonal to be pleasant, and which, therefore, a Scotch- 
 man resents from the very bottom of his solemn and 
 self-respecting heart. 
 
 But, we must apologize; this is pure and inde- 
 fensible digression, for is not Toddie on his way to 
 meet Devina, the seeds of unimagined love within his 
 heart, but grim anticipation within his soul? 
 
 Bob kept close to his master. Even the sound of 
 a distant sheep failed to lure him away. There ex- 
 ists in animals, and more especially in dogs, a loving 
 and intuitive instinct, surpassing that of women, 
 which enables them to read the secret thoughts of 
 those to whom they attach themselves. It is an in- 
 strument of much delicacy, subtle as their sense of 
 smell. Like an emotional plummet, it sounds the 
 deeps of mental sensation, discovering strange cur- 
 rents, submerged rocks, and dangerous shoals. Bob 
 was making use of it now. His master's visible pre- 
 occupation, unseeing eyes, portentous frown and
 
 TODDIE 
 
 compressed lips had given him a clue which his own 
 genius for psychological investigation was pursuing 
 to its furthest limits. 
 
 Bob scented danger. An invisible danger, that 
 did not even growl, was much to be dreaded. It 
 got on your nerves, and raised your back hair. Im- 
 possible to tell when, or in what form, it would at- 
 tack you. You simply were forced to wait. Inac- 
 tion under such circumstances becomes an ordeal. 
 Danger? Danger to whom? Presumably to Tod- 
 die. For himself, Bob did not care. Let peril take 
 the form of the largest and most ferocious dog that 
 canine imagination could conceive, Bob would have 
 welcomed it with defiance. But where Toddie was 
 concerned it was a very different matter. With his 
 nose glued faithfully to his master's heels, and his 
 remnant of a tail carried threateningly, Bob fol- 
 lowed his human divinity as he would have followed 
 him unhesitatingly into the very forefront of battle. 
 
 Together, but in silent Indian file, the friends 
 reached the top of the hill that commanded the har- 
 bor. The sea lay outstretched beneath them, ex- 
 traordinarily calm here a dull and oily expanse 
 there a glitter as of naked steel ; dotted at far in- 
 tervals with the sails of fishing boats. Nearer still 
 could be seen jagged reefs exposed to sight by an 
 unusually low tide, black and cruel, with a lazy wash 
 of surf whitening their flanks. Still nearer, where 
 
 115
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the steep descending path joined the quay-side, rose 
 the Bell Rock Inn, a structure with no pretensions 
 to beauty, but of a solid, durable and hospitable as- 
 pect, as became a building that dispensed whisky 
 and defied the storms of winter. At the corner, 
 where the Inn abutted upon the highway, stood a 
 woman. 
 
 There she was! Toddie's heart leapt, then sank. 
 He felt ungenerously inclined to growl " I told ye 
 so," and to lay the blame entirely on Bob, who, as the 
 reader will remember, had insisted upon the harbor 
 as the objective of their walk. Repressing this in- 
 clination, Toddie tried to face the inevitable, but 
 his courage oozed away, his pace relaxed, his nerv- 
 ousness increased. By her attitude he saw plainly 
 that she had caught sight of him, otherwise it is 
 more than probable that he and Bob would have 
 turned tail and slunk off in an entirely different 
 direction. Again he forced his eyes to encounter 
 her. That solitary black figure seemed to be the one 
 important feature in the landscape. It dwarfed 
 everything. In it were suggested the ominous calm 
 of the sea, the sunless gloom of the land, the dis- 
 quieting sense of vague yet depressing expectancy 
 that brooded over all things. More than that, it had 
 for Toddie all the fascination, the attraction, and the 
 terror of the unknown. Within it might be dark and 
 gathering storms more to be dreaded than the anger 
 
 116
 
 TODDIE 
 
 of the ocean, flashes of wrath more to be avoided than 
 the lightning. As he looked and quaked he felt a cold 
 thrill run up and down his sturdy little backbone. 
 
 What would she say when she found out that he 
 was there under false pretenses? That he had no 
 news? Her high moral nature was incapable of de- 
 ception, incapable also of forgiving deception in 
 others. Would she resort to violence? Strange to 
 say, at that possibility his courage returned, and 
 jerking his head like one who recognizes that there 
 can now be no turning back, he advanced to the en- 
 counter. 
 
 " Good day," he cried defiantly, while still at a 
 distance. 
 
 This was a master-stroke in active hostilities it 
 is half the battle to strike first. 
 
 " Good day," she answered. 
 
 Screwing up his courage, he stared her straight 
 in the face. 
 
 " Dang it ! I '11 let her see who I am," he thought 
 desperately, as if indeed there could be any reasona- 
 ble doubt about the matter. His valor was of that 
 foolhardy description inspired by fear. Yet, such 
 as it was, it not only amazed, but filled him with a 
 glow of self -admiration that was singularly comfort- 
 ing. 
 
 But, as he glared, he experienced the shock of a 
 surprise. For the first time in the history of their 
 
 117
 
 TODDIE 
 
 acquaintance Devina avoided his eyes. More than 
 that, she seemed ill at ease. A warm flush, singularly 
 heightening to the dark and stern character of her 
 beauty, spread over the clear surface of her cheeks. 
 And if it does not sound preposterous to mention 
 such irresolute adjectives in connection with Devina 
 she appeared to be not only nervous, but timid. 
 
 Like snow before the sun Toddie's antagonism 
 evaporated. In its place were to be read amazement, 
 admiration, and a relief that would not be concealed. 
 For a moment he gaped at her helplessly, possessed 
 by the surprise and pleasure of it; then, all at once, 
 remembering that she was a woman, he pulled himself 
 together. 
 
 " I 'm late," he announced with a fine assumption 
 of indifference, calculated to let her see that whatever 
 her sentiments, he cared not a jot. 
 
 " No," she murmured, " naethin' to speak aboot." 
 And again he was awed by the soft, deep inflections 
 of her rich voice. 
 
 Was this actually Devina! Amazement grew so 
 intense as to border upon incredulity. But there 
 was no mistaking her identity. Even Bob had rec- 
 ognized her, and far from considering her the danger 
 he had been led to expect, was snuffing with affec- 
 tionate interest at her skirt as if the odor was dis- 
 tinctly agreeable to his taste. 
 
 Together they stood in the windless gray of the 
 118
 
 TODDIE 
 
 afternoon just a speechless little caddie, thick-set, 
 commonplace, but thrilling with emotions that 
 seemed to have come straight from heaven, and a tall, 
 shapely woman in black, with downcast eyes and a 
 tinge of tell-tale rose upon her cheeks. 
 
 " I canna think why I came," she said, and with 
 an effort her eyes met his. Within their black depths 
 Toddie read something unexpectedly wistful that 
 roused every ounce of gallantry that had slumbered 
 undisturbed in his breast for forty years. 
 
 " Nae doot ye had yer reasons," he said with re- 
 spectful deference, and no courtier could have said 
 it better. 
 
 She shook her head. " No," she dissented, and 
 neither he nor she gauged the naive significance of 
 the denial. " I had nae reasons." She paused, then 
 looking towards the sea, and speaking hurriedly: 
 " I have naethin' to tell ye. I needna have come at 
 all. I didna mean to come, but but here I am." 
 
 The termination was abrupt and defiant a touch 
 of her old self. 
 
 " That 's awful like me ! " cried Toddie, much in- 
 terested. 
 
 She looked at him swiftly. Was she angry? But 
 no, her eyes were more wondering and troubled than 
 indignant. 
 
 " I J ve no news eether," he continued, sinking his 
 voice confidentially. " The Major has had nae time 
 
 119
 
 TODDIE 
 
 for nonsense. Golf 's a grand thing for keepin' a 
 man oot o' mischief. At first I '11 no' deceive ye 
 - I thought of takin' Bob for a run. Not comin' 
 near ye, ye understand. But somehow or ither, 
 it beats me what wi' lookin' at the clock, and what 
 wi' thinkin' of you, I I 'm here, too 1 " 
 
 So engagingly impressive was his manner, so 
 frank and ingenuous his confession, so entirely and 
 delightfully did he ignore the real factor in the case, 
 that as he stood before her with one homy hand 
 amicably outstretched, he would have disarmed a 
 tigress. And Devina was no tigress, but a woman 
 profoundly troubled, listening with reluctance and 
 dismay to the voice of conflicting emotions. 
 
 " It 's queer, is it no' ? " commented Toddie. " It 's 
 what the Major would call a coincidence." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " Weel, 1 5 m no verra sure maself , but it 's a sort 
 o' fluke a thing ye canna take the credit of 
 like holin' oot in one, ye understand? " 
 
 She assented doubtfully. 
 
 " And now," he continued more cheerfully, " what 
 will we do next? " 
 
 " I 'm goin* home." 
 
 " Ye canna mean it ! " 
 
 " I 've been here long enough." 
 
 " But you 've only just come ! " 
 
 " It was daft of me." 
 
 120
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Na, na, dinna say that. It was real sensible 
 and and friendly." He broke off, astonished to 
 hear these sentiments issuing from his own lips ; then, 
 all power of self-criticism swamped in the rush of 
 his eagerness to keep her : " Here ! what the deevil 
 does it matter what we talk aboot I If ye like I '11 
 no' talk at all." 
 
 A faint smile hovered round the corners of her 
 mouth. 
 
 " There 's no call to swear," she said demurely 
 but her eyes still twinkled. 
 
 " Ah ! " chuckled Toddie much relieved. " That 's 
 right. Smile away. I like fine to see it. I '11 tell 
 ye what I '11 do I '11 take ye for a walk." 
 
 Had he been proposing to treat her to the Dundee 
 pantomime Toddie could not have made the offer 
 with a more prodigal and " damn-the-expense " air. 
 From Devina's expression, however, it could not be 
 inferred that the unusual pleasure commended itself 
 to her. She looked into his eager and smiling face 
 with extreme doubt, with a hesitation so long and 
 troubled as almost to appear distress. 
 
 " Weel," said Toddie encouragingly, " are ye for 
 comin' ? " 
 
 "What's the good of walkin'?" she objected, 
 wavering. 
 
 For a moment he scratched his head then, seized 
 with a bright idea, cried : " It 's good for the legs.
 
 TODDIE 
 
 No' that mine needs it, for they 're always walkin' ; 
 but, what wi' sittin' all day in a chair, yours must be 
 awful soft. Oh, no offense, ye needna jump ; maybe I 
 shouldna have taken the liberty o' mentioning them 
 at all, but I 'm no' used to suitin' ma talk to leddies, 
 and forby ye canna deny ye have them." 
 
 " I dinna wish to deny it," she said loftily, " but 
 if ye canna suit yer talk to me I '11 just go home." 
 
 " Ka, na ; I didna mean that at all. I said I wasna 
 used to it, but I can try. A man can dae nae mair. 
 Just you say what ye like best to talk aboot, and if 
 I says onythin' onsuitable, just you give me a dig 
 in the ribs. D'ye see? That way we '11 get on fine." 
 
 So earnest was he, so visibly anxious to please, 
 that Devina thawed in spite of herself. 
 
 " Umph," she commented, then with an air of in- 
 difference : " Which way will we go ? " 
 
 " Doon by the rocks," he suggested. " Naebody 
 will think o' lookin' for us there." 
 
 Without further talk they set out, side by side.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 DEVINA'S nervousness and Toddie's amaze- 
 ment thereat having worn off, the friends re- 
 laxed into something not far different from their 
 former strained relationship. That she should be out 
 walking with a man, with no visible excuse, save in- 
 deed the questionable pleasure she experienced in his 
 society, appeared to Devina a weakness worthy of 
 the severest condemnation. It put her hopelessly in 
 the wrong. It rankled. It caused her to fume in- 
 wardly. Had she not that very morning spoken 
 scathingly to Jessie concerning plumbers and the 
 offense of accompanying them in their evening con- 
 stitutionals? And here was she, Devina, actually 
 walking with a caddie. Her upright, self-respecting 
 nature winced at this culpable backsliding from the 
 solitary path of virtue, at the hypocrisy that could 
 openly denounce a course of conduct in others which 
 she herself practised blushingly in secret. Accord- 
 ing to her rigid code of morality be he caddie or 
 plumber, a man was a man for a' that, and unto no 
 woman worthy of the name was it permitted to de- 
 
 123
 
 TODDIE 
 
 mean herself by encouraging his existence, save in- 
 deed in exceptional cases, such as the transaction 
 of lawful conspiracy. To discover herself acting 
 contrary to these principles, and to know Toddie for 
 the cause, forced her back upon the old forbidding 
 demeanor singularly damping to the scarce-fledged 
 ardor of her companion. 
 
 He, poor fellow, was also suffering from a bit of 
 reaction. As he lurched along by her side, the 
 crown of his battered cap upon the level with her 
 shoulder, essaying to keep step with her long and 
 masculine strides, Toddie cast from time to time a 
 nervous look up into her face. What he saw there 
 by no means reassured him. The newborn charm 
 he experienced in her society had fled with this re- 
 turn to hostile and monosyllabic tactics. She com- 
 pelled him to call to mind the Major's allusion to 
 the funeral. It seemed dismally appropriate now. 
 Indeed Toddie could mention several funerals that 
 had been festive in comparison. In a word she forced 
 him to remember that she was a woman a fact he 
 had almost lost sight of and what could be more 
 alarming and distasteful to a bachelor of Toddie's 
 time-honored prejudices? 
 
 On their way to the rocks they passed the old 
 cockle gatherer. She was groping in a little pool 
 that lay imprisoned between two boulders. As she 
 recognized Toddie she looked from him to his com- 
 
 124,
 
 TODDIE 
 
 panion, then smiled a smile of much feminine sub- 
 tlety. 
 
 "What did I tell ye?" she called out trium- 
 phantly, jerking her wisp of gray hair out of her 
 eyes. 
 
 Quitting Devina's side, Toddie hastily turned back. 
 
 " I see fine what ye 're thinkin'," he said in a gruff 
 indignant voice, " but ye 're wrong." 
 
 " Who 's that ? " questioned Devina, when he re- 
 joined her. 
 
 " Just a daft auld wife," responded Toddie, still 
 much upset. 
 
 " And what would she be sayin' to you? " 
 
 " Oh, just nonsense." 
 
 " Aye, but what was it? What 's that she said she 
 told ye before? " 
 
 Thus cornered, Toddie growled inarticulately. 
 Then, becoming aware of her eyes fixed upon him, 
 and full of feminine curiosity, he added defensively: 
 " I canna repeat it." 
 
 She tossed her head and looked away. 
 
 For some time they walked on in silence. Having 
 traversed a space of level sand, they at length reached 
 the rocks. These ridges and reefs, deeply concealed 
 by water at high tide, were now a chaos of boulders 
 of very unequal size, and densely covered for the 
 most part with a matted garment of black and glis- 
 tening weed. Here, the naked rock peeped through 
 
 125
 
 TODDIE 
 
 there, colonies of shell-fish adhered to the sides 
 and crests, so small, innumerable, and close that they 
 had the appearance of patches of black velvet. Be- 
 tween these boulders lay pools fringed with delicate 
 and feathery growths, within whose becalmed and 
 translucent depths the gazer saw at will his own 
 face and the mirror sky, or a submerged and min- 
 iature world. Sand and shells, the gleam of wet 
 pebbles, evidences of humble life made beautiful with 
 vivid color intensified by the motionless element, all 
 lent to these tiny rock-gardens a charm as rare as it 
 was unexpected. As the shadows of Toddie and De- 
 vina fell upon their hiding-places, little crabs scurried 
 away in sudden alarm, disappearing beneath the 
 crystal-like substance that seemed less a liquid than a 
 denser atmosphere, so pure was it, so suggestive of 
 being renewed and renovated daily by the strong 
 salt flood of the sea. 
 
 The footing upon this playground of the waves 
 was precarious in the extreme. It necessitated the 
 agility of an acrobat and the balance of a tight- 
 rope dancer. Bob, shivering from the effects of more 
 than one involuntary bath, made frequent appeals 
 for help. Indeed he neglected no means within his 
 power to point out to his companions that, as far as 
 he personally was concerned, he washed his paws of 
 the whole undertaking. 
 
 Shod in thick nailed boots, Toddie fared better 
 126
 
 TODDIE 
 
 than did Devina, for her foot-gear was thin and but 
 ill-suited to cope with the difficulties of the situation. 
 More than once he watched her anxiously over his 
 shoulder, restrained, however, from offering her as- 
 sistance by a feeling of awkwardness. Though un- 
 used to women, and unaccustomed to criticize, even he 
 could not but observe and admire her gracefulness, 
 her strength, and her decision. Devina tackled slip- 
 pery and insecure boulders with a quick judgment 
 and a light and accurate foot mounting, descend- 
 ing, leaping, landing, balancing, never far behind 
 her guide as he led the way with the ease of one born 
 and bred upon the coast. Her fine figure was seen 
 to advantage against the somber background. Lis- 
 som as that of a girl, it still retained all the charm 
 of youth. And indeed who shall say that she was more 
 than a girl, this strong stately woman, with her 
 masses of dark hair ruffled by the unwonted exertion 
 and the glow of healthy blood dyeing her cheeks? 
 Not Toddie for one, be sure of that. 
 
 On the far side of a crevasse he paused and looked 
 back. A gulf lay between them, filled to the brim 
 with deep water, and surrounded on all sides by pre- 
 cipitous and seaweed-covered rocks. A gulf surely 
 too wide to be crossed without masculine as- 
 sistance. 
 
 " Here," he cried to her, leaning far over the pool, 
 " give me yer hand.'* 
 
 127
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Out of the way," she exclaimed impatiently, and, 
 even as she spoke, she sprang. 
 
 The impetus of her leap, and the treacherous sur- 
 face upon which she alighted, caused her to slip. 
 There broke from her an involuntary cry. Quick 
 as thought his arm was round her, and she was 
 dragged to a position of safety. To Devina the 
 sensation was not only novel but unexpectedly pleas- 
 ant. For a moment she looked at her rescuer, a new 
 light within her eyes. 
 
 " You 're strong," she said with slow and uncon- 
 scious approval. And Toddie, outwardly unmoved, 
 glowed at the compliment. 
 
 Gaining the farthest limit of the rocks, they seated 
 themselves upon a convenient ledge . situated high 
 above the advancing tide. Bob, somewhat more rec- 
 onciled, condescended to make use of the tail of his 
 master's coat. 
 
 A quarter of a mile now separated the trio from 
 the cliffs that formed the coast-line. Before, and 
 on either side of them, where the promontory thrust 
 itself outwards, lay the sea. Through the haze that 
 had begun to creep landwards, several fishing-boats 
 could be faintly distinguished. With lowered sails 
 they rocked gently at anchorage, awaiting the high 
 tide that would permit them to enter the harbor. A 
 great calm lay over all one of those calms that 
 visits this iron-bound coast not infrequently in winter, 
 
 128
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and during which all inanimate things seem either 
 dead or sunk into profound slumber. Barely stirring 
 the breathless air came faint, thin cries of distant 
 sea-birds, far out, in the offing. These sad and al- 
 most inaudible sounds, suggestive as they were of 
 infinite space and unfettered lives, lent a strange, wild 
 sweetness to the scene. Nature herself seemed to be 
 present, brooding upon her masterpiece, the sea. 
 
 The isolation of their position, combined with the 
 sense of comradeship it engendered, went far towards 
 dispelling the restraint that had tied their tongues, 
 and before many minutes had passed they found 
 themselves chatting with surprising sociability. Tod- 
 die had been the first to break the silence. 
 
 " He '11 be goin' to the sixteenth hole now," he 
 mused, and there was a note of envy in his voice. " I 
 hope Murdoch winna forget to tell him to keep his 
 head doon. The Principal's Nose is aye a nasty 
 bunker. We was badly in it this momin'. ' Tod- 
 die,' says he, real testy " 
 
 " Who ? " demanded Devina with a frown. 
 
 " The Major, of course." 
 
 " See here, you 've not brought me out to talk aboot 
 that man? " 
 
 "Why not? We couldn't get onythin' better to 
 talk aboot." 
 
 " Weel, if ye do I 'm not goin' to listen ; that 's 
 tellin' ye." 
 
 9 129
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Dearie me ! Is that so ? What sort o' thing 
 should I say ? " 
 
 Again a faint smile stole across her averted face. 
 
 " Na," mused Toddie, scratching his head, " I sup- 
 pose not. But there 's awful little I can talk 
 aboot except the golf." 
 
 " I wonder at ye. If I was a man " She broke 
 off, amazed with herself. 
 
 " Aye, what would ye do ? " cried Toddie, leaning 
 forward. 
 
 Her gloved fingers plucked inadvertently at the sea- 
 weed her eyes gazed at the water gurgling and 
 eddying around the rocks. 
 
 " I 'd make somethin' better of ma lif e. I 'd try 
 to do some good with it. There 's an awful lot o' 
 poor ignorant folks in in darkness. Aye, poor 
 bodies that hasna had a chance. I 'd like to give 
 them a chance." 
 
 " A chance o' what? " 
 
 " A chance of raisin' themselves." 
 
 " Oho, it 's a meenister you 'd be I " 
 
 "And why not? What are ye smilin' at? Is it 
 not a grand thing to save lost sheep? " 
 
 "That's like Bob," commented Toddie thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " Whiles," she went on unheeding, a flush mounting 
 to her face, " when I 'm listenin' to Mister McColl 
 
 ISO
 
 TODDIE 
 
 I just burns all over like the Apostles when the 
 tongues o' fire fell on their blessed heads." 
 
 " Gude Sakes ! " 
 
 " Aye, I canna contain maself. I can hardly sit 
 still. I'm just yearnin' to dae somethin' I dinna 
 ken what but somethin' grand and useful some- 
 thin' that '11 help folks, I mean. And then, me fair 
 uplifted, all at once I catches sight o' a silly hat, 
 and ma bonnie castle o' dreams just tumbles doon. 
 For what can a woman do but bide at hame and 
 dust, and mend stockings, and dress Miss Charity's 
 hair? 
 
 , " Weel, weel I We canna all be meenisters. And 
 nae doot if ye does yer duty in yer ain station, the 
 Lorrd will excuse ye." 
 
 " Ye think that? " 
 
 " I do. There 's times I 'd like fine to be a Club 
 member ; but, thinks I, the Lorrd kens best." 
 
 She looked at him long. 
 
 " I believe you 're releegious after all," she said, 
 and there was wonder and solemnity in her voice. 
 Toddie smiled deprecatingly. She continued: 
 
 "I misjudged ye. I see that. I'm sorry. It 
 will be a lesson to me no' to judge folk I 'm far 
 too fond of doin' that. But " and her brows 
 gathered again, " does it no' make your heart ache 
 to see the awful wickedness of St. Andrews ? " 
 
 131
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Hoots ! no. We get on fine. There 's just the 
 one thing we 're needin', and that is a tariff on the 
 auld course." 
 
 " Na, it 's love we need to love one anither." 
 
 His start and look of alarm were lost upon her 
 for she continued with great earnestness. " We 're 
 all hard at heart, somethin' terrible. Oh, I 'm as 
 bad as the rest. I just say things I 'm ashamed 
 of. The day now, I came awful near to slappin' 
 Jessie's face it 's that impident. But you men are 
 the worst. A body canna go oot on a Saturday 
 night withoot hearin' language no' fit for a Chris- 
 tian country. And then, there 's the drink." 
 
 Toddie shifted uneasily. 
 
 " It 's the curse o' Scotland." 
 
 " Na, na, not sae bad as that." 
 
 " It is," she vociferated, turning indignantly upon 
 him. " It makes a man a beast worse nor a beast. 
 Think of his poor defenseless wife and his wee inno- 
 cent bairns robbed of their bread." 
 
 " He might be a bachelor," suggested Toddie hope- 
 fuUy. 
 
 " I tell ye," she continued, unheeding, " if I was 
 the King or the Provost I 'd throw all the whisky in 
 Scotland oot there, aye, into the sea." 
 
 Toddie gasped. His eyes distended with con- 
 sternation at the bare notion of such a national ca- 
 
 132
 
 TODDIE 
 
 lamity gazed at the spot indicated by her resolute 
 forefinger. 
 
 " Would ye? " was all he could ejaculate. " Would 
 ye now? " 
 
 " I would. And so would you." 
 
 This was the last straw. 
 
 After a pause she continued. 
 
 " What made me think o' speakin' to the likes of 
 you at all was that I kenned ye for a steady, sober 
 man. I 'm not often mistaken. Ye dinna say very 
 much, but there I see by your face ye thinks with 
 me." 
 
 The countenance in question had become suddenly 
 suffused with a guilty red. Fain would poor Toddie 
 have contradicted her fain would he have denied the 
 possession of the unnatural virtues thus unexpectedly 
 imputed to him. But, as he opened his mouth to 
 speak, the sudden, overpowering conviction that, were 
 he to deny it, he would forfeit forever her esteem, 
 changed what he had been about to say into: 
 
 " Aye, aye. Weel. Umph t Maybe." 
 
 " I knew it," she cried, and Toddie's conscience 
 smote him hard at the approval in her voice. 
 
 183
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 FROM this moment to the end of the interview 
 a marked change might have been observed in 
 Devina's manner towards her companion. Her se- 
 verity almost disappeared her voice lost much of 
 its hardness, her eyes much of their disapprobation. 
 And if she still retained her old abruptness and 
 " dourness " an ungracious trait, a national as well 
 as a personal characteristic it was less on account 
 of a desire to repel, than the involuntary expression 
 of a proud, shy, and modest self-consciousness. 
 
 The twin discovery that " the man " was not with- 
 out " releegion " and eschewed liquor were the chief 
 factors in the transformation. Although she would 
 not own it, even to herself, Toddie had risen appre- 
 ciably in her estimation. From a brand to be 
 snatched from the burning, he had become a torch 
 that might be expected to give light to a naughty 
 world. Nor was this change unnatural. When a 
 woman begins by disliking a man, and suddenly dis- 
 covers that she likes him, the reaction in his favor 
 is apt to carry her far. Her very generosity be- 
 comes his ally, and seeks to compensate him by pres- 
 
 134
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ent kindness for all he has suffered from her injustice 
 in the past. 
 
 The only fear is that she may overdo it. 
 
 For the first time then since her unfortunate love- 
 affair, Devina showed signs of a leniency towards 
 masculine society. She found herself listening with 
 complacence and even with interest to the man's point 
 of view, and, what is more, actually forgetting to 
 condemn it. Several times she surprised herself in 
 the very middle of a smile, for Toddie's naivete and 
 frankness tickled her sense of humor and, Devina 
 must indeed have been badly introduced to the reader 
 if this does not show an immense advance along the 
 path of unconscious friendship. 
 
 A world of men typified by Archie, the rock 
 upon which her fair vessel of hope had foundered 
 gave place in slow and laborious transition to a world 
 of men exemplified by Toddie. A shattering of dis- 
 beliefs is sometimes as poignant as a shattering of 
 beliefs. The mind, like the body, is the slave of 
 habit, and in the severing of chains necessitates labor. 
 Devina felt this, but only partially, for her feelings 
 towards Toddie had barely crossed the borderland 
 that separates tolerance from disapprobation. To 
 her he was still " a man," a thing apart, as aloof from 
 her existence as though he were an inhabitant of 
 Mars. But there was nothing to force a woman to 
 assume the defensive with him. He was just a plain, 
 
 135
 
 TODDIE 
 
 down right, civil-spoken body, so unmistakably well- 
 meaning that he could not fail to inspire confidence. 
 And yet there was something so engaging in his very 
 simplicity, something so childlike and spontaneous in 
 his habit of blurting out just what he thought, that 
 it would have taken a far harder-hearted woman than 
 Devina to deny him a modicum of sympathy. 
 
 More she pitied him. Yes, she was convinced 
 that the body was sorely in need of feminine guid- 
 ance. She began to observe him. Her quick eyes 
 detected the absence of a button. Continuing their 
 researches they noted and condemned the tear under 
 his left arm where the heavy golf -bag was wont to 
 hang. She longed to do battle with that coat 
 not for the sake of its wearer, she reassured herself 
 as to that, but out of a sense of decency. 
 
 Pity ! The very light of heaven in a good woman's 
 eye. But a dangerous emotion to bestow upon a 
 single man when a woman desires to remain on purely 
 platonic relations with him. Devina, however, was 
 as unconscious of danger as a babe unborn. 
 
 Many things puzzled her when she had time to 
 ponder over them. That she should speak to him so 
 freely of matters and feelings which she considered 
 sacred was astounding. Her want of reticence filled 
 her with amazement, with incredulity. Unknown to 
 herself, it went far towards revolutionizing her out- 
 look. 
 
 136
 
 TODDIE 
 
 As for our hero, he too was most pleasantly as- 
 tonished. A woman was evidently not such a poor 
 companion after all ! It was a revelation. He won- 
 dered that he had not ' found it out before. But, 
 pondering thereon, he came to the conclusion that 
 Devina must be one bright exception to her sex. 
 His good fortune in having discovered just the one 
 companionable and safe woman in the world struck 
 him as amazing. " None of yer silliness, but just 
 sensible," was his verdict, as she assented to the ma- 
 jority of his statements. Her present attitude to- 
 wards him an attitude that might almost be termed 
 genial speedily thawed his reserve. He expanded 
 and laid down the law, more and more at his ease. 
 It was as good as being with Tarn. He gazed with 
 increasing confidence into the dark face turned ap- 
 preciatively towards him, and his eyes expressed a 
 satisfaction and an approval, which, however, his 
 lips were far too cautious to corroborate. Her un- 
 spoken, yet visibly golden, opinion of him warmed 
 him to his sturdy backbone. That it was entirely 
 unmerited mattered nothing. That was a mere de- 
 tail. Toddie silenced his conscience so successfully 
 that he persuaded it to go to sleep, while he reveled 
 in the delightful delusion that he was a sober and 
 religious member of society. It was so unusual. 
 He scarcely recognized himself. He became firmly 
 convinced that nature had really intended him to be 
 
 137
 
 TODDIE 
 
 virtuous. That he had not been so in the past was 
 merely an accident a postponement. Had he not 
 the future for his own? Time enough yet. No oc- 
 casion to hurry. Such a reformation demanded 
 thought. 
 
 Meanwhile it was all very pleasant very pleas- 
 ant indeed. Devina's praise contributed not a little 
 towards his appreciation of her society. She was 
 clever. No doubt of that. In a few short inter- 
 views she had discovered the real Toddie or we 
 might say, the future Toddie a personage, mark 
 you, compact of solid and admirable qualities, hith- 
 erto unappreciated. To know that we are admired 
 is an incentive to us to show ourselves at our best. 
 And O strange anomaly of the human heart 
 is not the flattery that credits us with virtues foreign 
 to our natures, more silver-sounding than any recog- 
 nition of the merits to which we can honestly lay 
 claim ? 
 
 Toddie, then, was at his best. Mounted upon his 
 favorite hobby-horse, never before had he galloped 
 so gaily in conversation. He reminded himself of 
 the Major at his best and for the first time in his 
 life saw no presumption in the comparison. Pearls 
 of inestimable value fell from his lips. He betrayed 
 a knowledge of life, a profundity of observation 
 wholly unsuspected. His remarks upon the folly of 
 those who " walked oot " were both pungent and 
 
 138
 
 TODDIE 
 
 caustic. His tirade against matrimony was calcu- 
 lated to damp the ardor of the most burning of 
 bridegrooms. And as for his condemnation of that 
 crowning absurdity called " love " well, it was more 
 than sufficient to make Venus weep and induce Cupid 
 to break his arrows in despair. 
 
 Devina listened and acquiesced. " Aye, that 's 
 what I tell Jessie." " Just so, keepin' company is 
 awful silly." " D 'ye think that? That's the way 
 I looks at it maself." " Ma word, I just wish Miss 
 Charity could hear ye." 
 
 These and kindred observations were as fuel to his 
 fire. 
 
 And all the while, intent only on convincing her of 
 the imbecility nay, the non-existence of love, he 
 edged nearer, laid the point of a confidential and 
 explanatory forefinger on her knee, gazed earnestly 
 into her face, sunned himself in the approving light 
 of her eyes, drank the cup of her intoxicating pres- 
 ence, and read in her looks, in her attention, the 
 manifest and unmistakable evidence of a dawning 
 appreciation that equaled his own. 
 
 Then alas that there should be a " then," for 
 in this case it is as tantalizing as an " if," as post- 
 poning as a " but " Bob spoiled it all. 
 
 That unaccountable animal had for some time 
 shown signs of uneasiness. One might have sup- 
 posed that, in common gratitude for his share of 
 
 139
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddle's coat, he would have lent an approving ear 
 to sentiments so deserving of respect. But no. Not 
 at all. The conversation might have been carried 
 on entirely in Greek for all the notice he took of it. 
 His mind was plainly engrossed with mundane mat- 
 ters ! Time and again in the middle of an improving 
 sentence he had whimpered and scratched, looking 
 with anxious eyes alternately from the sea to his 
 master's face. In vain had he been commanded to 
 " Lie doon," and to " Stop yer botherin'." He had 
 but redoubled his exertions. 
 
 All at once his pantomime had the desired effect. 
 Toddie's curiosity was aroused. He observed Bob 
 closely. Then, his eyes too rested on the sea. 
 
 " Ma God ! " he cried, and started to his feet. 
 
 At any other time the ejaculation would have 
 elicited Devina's stern condemnation, but something 
 in her companion's face drove the profanity from 
 her memory. 
 
 " What is it ? " she cried in alarm. 
 
 " That ! " And he pointed. 
 
 Slowly and insidiously, while they had been en- 
 grossed with each other, the tide had risen. Rocks 
 that upon their arrival had been a good three feet 
 above water were now submerged. There was some- 
 thing menacing in this stealthy encroachment. It 
 endowed the sea with life and a purpose ; as though 
 it were a wild animal licking and growling, feigning 
 
 140
 
 TODDIE 
 
 gentleness and amiability, but in reality creeping 
 nearer and ever nearer before it sprang and destroyed. 
 The mist, too, was upon them. Seen through its 
 mysterious folds, the water gleamed wickedly. 
 
 " Come on," cried Toddie ; and, seizing her by the 
 arm, he dragged her to her feet. 
 
 As they hastily retraced their steps, scrambling up 
 and down the slippery boulders, he explained in a 
 few words the cause of his alarm. He reminded her 
 of a gap in the reef. It had been dry sand when they 
 had traversed it some half an hour before. It would 
 be under water now. 
 
 Again and again he cursed himself for his stupid- 
 ity. It was all his fault. What had possessed him? 
 How could he have forgotten the tide ? It was " daf t- 
 like " inexcusable. 
 
 Devina never spoke. This unexpected call upon 
 her courage found her prepared. Accepting his as- 
 sistance, in silence, and with a grave and preoccupied 
 look upon her face, she followed him closely. 
 
 Reaching the limit of t{ie reef, they found Tod- 
 die's fears realized. An expanse of some twenty 
 yards of water, momentarily deepening, now sepa- 
 rated them from the parallel reef that would have led 
 them dry-shod to the land. 
 
 " We '11 have to wade," said Devina resolutely. 
 
 " Wade ! " cried Toddie in scorn. " It 's up to yer 
 waist ! " 
 
 141
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The gravity on her face deepened. 
 
 " Is there no ither way ? " 
 
 " Aye, bide here. The reef narrows up yonder. 
 I '11 see." 
 
 He hastened from her. 
 
 Devina stood on the edge watching the water that 
 gushed and gurgled at her feet. Its little busy ways 
 among the boulders had now a strange evil fascination 
 for her, for did not her position endow it with a new 
 and sinister significance? It was full of feigned 
 flights and sudden rallies, of dying laps and gur- 
 gles, of hollow murmurs and explosions, of sighs and 
 protests, of treacherous pauses, of swift advances, of 
 mournful and unwearying agitation. 
 
 As she watched, it crept higher, receded, crept 
 higher again. It would soon cover the rock upon 
 which she was standing. Its apparent indecision was 
 full of deception, for was it not a part of a vast con- 
 certed and onward movement inevitable as fate, inex- 
 orable as time? As she looked at it, her thoughts 
 reverted to her father, and to how this purring, fawn- 
 ing creature had stifled the life out of his strong and 
 vigorous manhood. A grim anger seized her. 
 
 Her thoughts, momentarily diverted, returned to 
 Toddie. She had lost sight of him in the mist. She 
 wondered at herself for not feeling alarm, and was 
 forced to admit that had she been by herself she 
 would not have faced the situation with a like 
 
 142
 
 TODDIE 
 
 equanimity. It might well have been very eerie and 
 very lonely waiting there, cut off from even the sight 
 of the land by the damp clinging vapor that drifted 
 in from the Northern sea, and through whose im- 
 palpable folds the surrounding rocks loomed like 
 phantoms, fading away into a mysterious nothing- 
 ness, a gray and shifting obscurity. But Devina 
 felt neither eerie nor lonely. She thought of Tod- 
 die. 
 
 His voice as he hastened towards her was inexpressi- 
 bly welcome. 
 
 " It 's no good," he panted, breathless with the 
 speed with which he had clambered over the rocks. 
 " It 's narrower, but it 's a sight deeper. It 's just 
 been a waste o' time, and the tide comin' in every sin- 
 gle minute." He looked at her doubtfully, then in- 
 quired, " How are ye goin' to manage ? " 
 
 " I '11 take off ma shoes and stockings." 
 
 " I doubt it '11 be too deep." 
 
 " I can try." 
 
 " Weel, be quick. We 've no time to lose." 
 
 But she hesitated. 
 
 " What is it now ? " he cried testily. 
 
 Devina flushed. " Would ye mind lookin' the ither 
 way ? " Then when he had complied with her request : 
 " You go first." 
 
 Toddie plunged into the water. Devina followed. 
 Bob swam lustily. Around them the waves swirled
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and eddied. As the chill of their touch met her 
 naked limbs Devina shivered. Her stockings and 
 shoes were suspended from her neck both hands 
 being fully occupied in holding her garments as high 
 as possible. It needed but a moment however to con- 
 vince her that her companion was right. The water 
 was too deep to wade. Already a wave had drenched 
 her from behind. In spite of her efforts she felt that 
 it was impossible to reach the other side without dam- 
 age to her clothes. Consternation fell upon her. In 
 a flash she pictured her dripping and undignified 
 progress through the streets of St. Andrews the 
 comments of the neighbors the amusement and jeers 
 of her fellow servants. 
 
 " Are ye all right? " cried Toddie. 
 
 There was no reply. Alarmed by the silence, and 
 forgetful of his promise, he turned round in mid- 
 passage, and to his horror and indignation beheld 
 Devina mounting the rock she had so recently 
 quitted. 
 
 "Hi!" he shouted. "Are ye mad? D'ye want 
 to be drowned? " 
 
 " I 'm not comin'," she cried with decision, and sud- 
 denly aware of his eyes, let down her garments with 
 a run. 
 
 Without a word he waded towards her. She 
 watched his approach, a look of defiance in her eyes, 
 but a feeling of alarm in her heart. 
 
 144
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " What are ye goin' to do ? " she faltered as he 
 clambered up the rock. 
 
 " I 'm goin' to carry ye." 
 
 "I'll I'll not let ye." 
 
 He looked her straight in the eyes, and her heart 
 fluttered as she marked the determination in his face. 
 
 " See here," he said, and his voice though quiet was 
 unexpectedly masterful. " None of yer nonsense. 
 As ye won't walk, I 'm goin' to carry ye. Do as 
 ye 're told. Get up." 
 
 Devina gasped. She gazed at the broad back low- 
 ered for her convenience, and an overpowering and 
 novel sensation of weakness and dependence ran 
 through her. She would have again refused, but 
 something tied her tongue. 
 
 " Get up," commanded Toddie. 
 
 " I 'm awful heavy," she faltered as she obeyed. 
 But, " Hold tight," was his only response. 
 
 Together they braved the waters a small but vic- 
 torious man, bearing on his back a large but van- 
 quished woman. 
 
 The waves leapt around them, strove to reach De- 
 vina, sought to drag Toddie from his footing, but 
 finding their efforts in vain, consoled themselves with 
 chuckles of glee and ripples of merriment. 
 
 The sea is a consummate actress. In her time she 
 has played many parts. On her lips there is laugh- 
 ter, and in her heart there are tears. Both are obedi- 
 10 145
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ent to her command. Had circumstances permitted 
 she would have drowned this man and woman. Balked 
 of her prey she turned the episode into a jest and 
 pelted them with foam. Only great actresses can 
 thus turn their talents to suit the occasion. She 
 seemed to be saying to herself : " If I cannot have 
 tragedy, I will have comedy." So comedy it was. 
 
 146
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ' ^\INNA make such a noise," expostulated Tod- 
 M^J die, starting from the drowsy after-effects of 
 a Sunday dinner. But Bob would not take advice. 
 
 " Are ye there ? " quavered a pathetic and obse- 
 quious voice through a crack in the door. 
 
 " Come in," said Toddie with cordiality. " Shut 
 the door, for ony sake, the wind 's like to freeze ye." 
 
 Bob's indignant bark had changed swiftly to a 
 whine of pleased recognition, for Tarn Macintyre 
 was one of the favored few whom he considered 
 worthy to approach his master. 
 
 " And what brings ye here the day, Tarn ? " yawned 
 Toddie, stretching himself. The visitor's wistful 
 eyes proclaimed the small but cheerful fire a sufficient 
 excuse. 
 
 He was a pathetic figure, bowed with age, pinched 
 with cold, grizzled, emaciated, hopeless, dressed in a 
 threadbare overcoat of faded green, buttoned tightly 
 round his skinny neck. His legs, bent at the knees, 
 were concealed by baggy trousers many sizes too 
 large, and so patched that the tailor, once responsi- 
 ble for their existence, would have blushed to recog- 
 
 147
 
 TODDIE 
 
 nize them. A battered and antiquated cap that had 
 evidently belonged to a nautical gentleman, and boots 
 clamoring for the cobbler, completed his costume. 
 
 As he stood in the middle of Toddie's room his 
 teeth chattered. 
 
 "Ye 're just perishin'!" cried Toddie. "Here, 
 sit in to the fire." With rough kindness he forced 
 his guest into the one armchair, while he seated 
 himself on a three-legged stool. The old man, still 
 trembling, stretched his benumbed fingers to the 
 blaze. 
 
 " Had ye a round yesterday? " questioned Toddie, 
 frowning thoughtfully. 
 
 Tarn shook his head. 
 
 "Or the day before?" 
 
 " One," mumbled Tarn, intent on enjoying the fire. 
 
 Toddie snorted. " That 's a shillin' and saxpence 
 in two days ? " 
 
 " Aye, just that." 
 
 " Ma word ! that 's not enough to keep body and 
 soul thegither." 
 
 " An* pay the rent " broke in Tarn, waking up 
 and speaking with quavering earnestness. " Dinna 
 forget that. If it wasna for you " 
 
 " Hoots, man, never speak o' that." 
 
 " But I will speak o' it. You 've been a good 
 friend to me, mony 's the time, and I '11 never forget 
 it, but " and he heaved a sigh " it 's like a crumb 
 
 148
 
 TODDIE 
 
 to a famishin' stomach, ye may say. What are ye 
 about? " 
 
 Toddie had sprung to his feet, and was opening a 
 cupboard. 
 
 " I 'm hungry," he said. " I 'm just lookin' to see 
 what 's left. Aye. Here 's a cheese, and a loaf, and 
 a bonnie bit o' haddock, cold, but that doesna matter 
 and and a bottle o' whusky. Will ye keep me 
 company ? " 
 
 As the inventory proceeded, Tarn's mouth opened, 
 and an expression all but wolfish glittered in his eyes. 
 
 The viands were placed on the table. Tarn, en- 
 couraged thereto, and after faint demur, attacked 
 them ravenously. For some time the noise of his 
 performance was the only sound to be heard but 
 at length he raised his head. 
 
 " You 're not eatin' ? " he remonstrated with full 
 mouth. 
 
 " I felt awful like eatin'," apologized Toddie avoid- 
 ing his eye, " but it 's clean gone from me. Bob, 
 think shame o' yourself." 
 
 Tarn looked at the culprit. 
 
 " That dog," continued Toddie, pointing indig- 
 nantly, " would eat all day, aye, and all night, too, 
 if ye gave him the chance. D 'ye hear? Under the 
 table wi' ye." 
 
 Dragged thus into undesired publicity, Bob feigned 
 obedience; but no sooner was his master's attention 
 
 149
 
 TODDIE 
 
 diverted, than there he was again, shamelessly watch- 
 ing every mouthful on its passage from the plate to 
 Tarn's lips with a breathless absorption, not without 
 hope. 
 
 " You 're not drinkin'," exclaimed Tarn with still 
 greater astonishment. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " How 's that? " 
 
 " I wouldna touch it." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I say even if ye held that bottle to ma lips I 
 wouldna touch a drop I believe I 'd spit it oot. 
 D J ye no' ken, Tammas Macintyre, that drink is the 
 curse o' Scotland? " 
 
 "Guid sakes!" 
 
 *' Aye, it takes the bread oot of wee bairns' mouths. 
 It 's a fact, Tarn ; I have it on the best authority. 
 Nae wonder yer flabbergasted. So was I. And here 
 that 's the last bottle o' whusky ye '11 see in this 
 house, so that 's tellin' ye." 
 
 " Weel " muttered Tarn, after he had gaped at 
 his host for a full minute. " Weel, if that 's so, it 
 would be a peety no' tae make the most o' it." And 
 with that his hand sought the neck of the bottle. 
 
 " How does it taste ? " inquired Toddie with great 
 interest. 
 
 " Fine," gasped Tarn, for the raw spirit caused him 
 to choke. 
 
 150
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddle's eyes glistened. He looked at the bottle 
 wistfully. 
 
 " Have a drop go on," tempted his friend, push- 
 ing it towards him. But Toddie's hand, half out- 
 stretched, was resolutely withdrawn. 
 
 " No, I won't touch it it 's clean again' her 
 I mean ma principles." 
 
 " Hoots ! I canna think what 's wrong with ye. 
 I canna understand what ye mean by * cursin' ' and 
 * takin' the bread frae bairns.' Maybe ye 're at para- 
 bles again. I never hear ye swear, forby it 's a damn 
 or twa that just slips oot accidental like. And as for 
 mishandlin' wee bairns, that 's nonsense, for we all 
 ken ye 're fond o' them. Na, na, Toddie, ye can take 
 ma word for it, the drink 's a grand thing. It warms 
 ye, aye, and it makes ye forget. Besides," he 
 smiled insinuatingly, " is it no' recommended in the 
 Bible?" 
 
 " Eh ? In the Bible ? Is that so ? " 
 
 " Aye, is it. It says ' It 's a poor heart that 
 never rejoiceth.' I canna mind who says it, maybe it 
 was Solomon, but ye '11 find it there right enough." 
 
 " Ma word ! Ye 're right. I mind the text. I wish 
 I 'd thought o' sayin' that. She 's that partial to 
 Screepture. Aye, aye, that changes the case all the- 
 gither. There can be nae harm in whusky if the 
 Bible says that. Even she couldna verra weel find 
 fault wi' Solomon. Ma word ! I 'm awful glad ye 
 
 151
 
 TODDIE 
 
 thought o' that, Tam. It shall never be said o' me 
 that I 've a poor heart. Here 's to ye ! " 
 
 After this reassuring conversation, the bottle cir- 
 culated freely. The etiquette followed by both men 
 was identical. Each wiped his mouth with the back 
 of his hand, muttered the above-mentioned toast, put 
 the bottle to his lips, threw back his head and swal- 
 lowed with audible satisfaction. So devoutly did they 
 perform this ceremony that an onlooker might have 
 been excused for imagining them engaged in the per- 
 formance of a solemn religious duty. It would have 
 been noticeable, however, that the modest sips of Tam 
 were put to shame by the doughty gulps of Toddie. 
 
 The former, as time went on, lost much of his ha- 
 bitual despondency; indeed the food, the drink, and 
 the warmth worked an unexpected transformation 
 upon this poor old derelict of the links. A pipe 
 loaded with his host's tobacco added a finishing touch 
 to the pleasant metamorphosis. 
 
 " Ye 're real cozy here, quite grand," he commended 
 wistfully, but without envy, casting his eyes around. 
 Then with an appreciative sniff : " And what a com- 
 fortin' smell." 
 
 A faint odor of fruit and vegetables pervaded the 
 little room, for next door Wilson, the greengrocer, 
 stored his stock-in-trade. The untidiness, the dis- 
 order, the atmosphere of poverty and lack of cleanli- 
 ness, all were overlooked, or rather all, seen redly in 
 
 152
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the flickering light of the fire, as through an at- 
 mosphere of couleur de rose, elicited nothing but 
 Tarn's heart-felt admiration. 
 
 " Oh, aye," agreed Toddie, puffing placidly, 
 " you 're right. It 's comf ortin'. If ye canna af- 
 ford to buy apples, it does ye good to smell them." 
 
 " It 's bein' engaged by the month does it," mused 
 Tarn, eyeing the wreck of the cheese regretfully. 
 " No, I canna eat ony more But as I was 
 sayin' " 
 
 And with an expression of unusual contentment he 
 descanted long upon the joys of regular employment. 
 " Me? " he cried incredulously in answer to a sugges- 
 tion of his host " me be engaged by the month ! " 
 He puffed feverishly. Then turning to Toddie, his 
 eyes full of trouble, continued : " That will never be. 
 Not only that, but I 'm losing the very gentlemen 
 I 've carried for for years. Oh, ye needna deny it, 
 it 's God's truth. I canna think what 's the matter. 
 Things is awful changed, I see that. St. Andrews is 
 no' the place it was. I 'm a good caddie, none better. 
 What did Mr. Stott mean by sayin' to Braid ' I 
 won't take Tarn ' ? Oh, I heard him weel enough, 
 though some folks pretends I 'm deaf. Toddie, 
 you 've been in the same match with me, mony 's the 
 time ; have ye ever known me not able to do ma duty ? 
 Have ye, I say, have ye? " 
 
 He had gripped Toddie's arm. His voice rose at 
 153
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the last insistent words into a quaver of senile and 
 impotent indignation. 
 
 " No, Tarn," soothed Toddie. " No, no." 
 
 The denial fell naturally from his lips, but the 
 memory of Tarn failing fast came to his mind of 
 Tarn shambling after his employer ; weighed down by 
 the heavy bag ; unable to keep pace with the match ; 
 feverishly, painfully anxious to give satisfaction, but 
 plainly haunted by fear the fear lest others should 
 discover what he himself realized only too well. 
 
 " You 're not drinkin', Tarn," he cried with rough 
 feeling. 
 
 But Tarn shook his head. With dull eyes fixed on 
 the fire he had suddenly forgotten his surroundings, 
 forgotten even his pipe. His lips moved inaudibly. 
 As he sat there, huddled up, incongruously small in 
 the large armchair, he appeared to have become but 
 the faintly animated soul of the faded green coat, as 
 threadbare, as reminiscent of the past, as incompetent 
 to cope with the exigencies of the present. 
 
 Toddie looked at him for some time in silence, then 
 dolefully shaking his head, reapplied himself to the 
 bottle. 
 
 All at once Tarn roused himself; or to speak more 
 accurately, he was roused by Bob, for the tender- 
 hearted animal intuitively scenting trouble, sought to 
 insert a cold and wet nose between the palm of Tarn's 
 left hand and the leg of Tarn's disreputable trousers. 
 
 154
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Recalled thus sympathetically to the present, and se- 
 cretly ashamed of having betrayed emotion, Tarn be- 
 gan to discourse on various topics connected with the 
 links. But whether he touched upon the decay of ap- 
 preciative employers, or the weight of modern golf- 
 bags, or the growing number of lady players, one felt 
 that in every subject there lurked a grievance. The 
 last mentioned roused his mild indignation. 
 
 " Did ye ever see onythin' like it ! " he cried. 
 " They 're as bad as trippers ; that mony o 1 them 
 carries for themselves. I canna see the use o' women, 
 can you, Toddie? " 
 
 Toddie grunted inarticulately. 
 
 " No doubt the Lorrd knew fine what He was about 
 when He made them," mused Tarn, divided between 
 his anxiety to honor the schemes of his Creator and his 
 anxiety to pander to the well-known prejudices of 
 his host, " but I canna help thinkin' that if He could 
 only ha' foreseen whit the gentlemen call the con- 
 gestion o' the links He wouldna have been in sich a 
 hurry. Oh, aye, women are awful useless bodies, 
 that 's a fact." 
 
 " Not all," blurted Toddie, somewhat thickly. 
 
 Tarn stared. 
 
 " Not all," reiterated Toddie, solemnly frowning 
 at the black bottle, and speaking with an air of la- 
 bored impartiality. " I know one that ye just darena 
 call useless. And more nor that, she knows her place. 
 
 155
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Ye never see her on the links. Ye feel bound to re- 
 spect her. Oh, there 's good in her, though it would 
 bother the likes o' you to find it out." 
 
 "How did you find it out? " asked Tarn respect- 
 fully, though still suffering from amazement. 
 
 " I believe it was through Bob," said Toddie sim- 
 ply. " Ye may have noticed that Bob 's no' easy 
 deceived. He reads the heart. He never makes a 
 mistake. He came straight to me when he came to 
 St. Andrews. And more he likes you." 
 
 Tarn's hand found Bob's head in involuntary ap- 
 proval, but he continued to gaze at his friend with a 
 not unnatural amazement. Toddie's eyes never wan- 
 dered from the bottle. Slowly and apparently invol- 
 untarily, like one mesmerized, he reached out a hand, 
 raised the temptation to his lips, then set it down with 
 a deep sigh of satisfaction. 
 
 " Aye," he went on, speaking more and more 
 thickly, "Bob liked, her from the first. She's the 
 sort o' woman to please a dog. Ye canna deny it. 
 Firm, too. A sort of rock o' ages. In trouble, 
 aye, or in danger ye never hear her squeal. Oh, 
 no!" 
 
 He gazed abstractedly at the fire, grunted tenderly 
 once or twice, then, looking up, inquired : " Have 
 ye ever carried a woman, Tarn? " 
 
 " Carried ! A woman ! " 
 
 " That 's what I said." 
 
 156
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Tarn scratched his chin his bleared eyes seemed 
 to be gazing into the past. 
 
 " I believe I carried ma wife when she was ill." 
 
 " Far? " 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I said far. Did ye carry her far ? " 
 
 " Na, it wasna that far. Just from the chair to 
 the bed." 
 
 Toddie cried out with scorn. " From the chair to 
 the bed? What's that? A couple of yards, maybe. 
 Hoots ! ye had nae time to feel her weight. Man ! " 
 he turned reproachful eyes on the amazed Tarn, " I 
 wonder to hear ye boastin' aboot a think like that! 
 And a sick woman, too nae doot she hadna the 
 strength to refuse ye." 
 
 " She didna wish to refuse me. She was awful 
 pleased." 
 
 "Pleased? Was she?" 
 
 " Aye, was she, I mind her whisperin' * Thank ye, 
 dearie.' " 
 
 Toddie's face fell, then became hopeful. 
 
 " Did she near strangle ye? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 "No fear!" 
 
 " What? Did she no' get on yer back? " 
 
 " On ma back ! Na, that 's no way to carry a 
 woman." 
 
 " It is. It 's the only way. Hoots, ye treated 
 her like a bairn. Oh, I 'm no' findin' fault wi' you, 
 
 157
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Tarn. Ye did yer best, but take ma advice the next 
 time je carry a woman just you make her get on yer 
 back. It 's safer. Ye see where yer goin', aye, step 
 by step, wi' the water swirlin' round yer legs " 
 He stopped short, put upon his guard by the stupe- 
 faction in his friend's face, then suddenly transfixing 
 Tarn with an inflamed and indignant eye : " And 
 what business is it o' yours, Tammas Macintyre, to 
 come here pryin' into oor secrets." 
 
 This onslaught was delivered so unexpectedly, and 
 the imputations it conveyed were moreover so unmer- 
 ited, that poor Tarn could only gape ; then, his eyes 
 straying to the bottle, he nodded with gentle and 
 sympathetic enlightenment. 
 
 " Aye, aye," he murmured leniently, " I 'm no' sur- 
 prised, but I 'm sorry to hear ye say that aye, and 
 you '11 be sorry, too, when ye 're more yerself ." 
 
 He stopped in a fresh access of astonishment, for 
 Toddie, in the very act of wiping his nose on his 
 sleeve, had suddenly paused, his thoughts visibly else- 
 where, then slowly and as one acting under compul- 
 sion, had made use of a venerable duster. 
 
 " I 've never seen you do that before," exclaimed 
 Tarn, watching the performance with unfeigned in- 
 terest. But Toddie, looking extremely sheepish, af- 
 fected not to hear. 
 
 " Drink has queer effects on a man," marveled 
 Tarn partly to himself. 
 
 158
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie glared. " You think I 'm drunk? " he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " I wouldna go so far as to say that." 
 
 "Cause why? Cause you're afraid. You'll not 
 find me afraid. I 'm afraid of nobody. If ye 're 
 wantin' to fight " 
 
 " No, no," protested Tarn hastily. 
 
 " Weel, then, dinna sit there contradictin' me, for 
 I '11 no' stand it. I canna abide women, ye know that 
 weel enough. I 'm no' ashamed o' ma opeenions ; but 
 it doesna become a man to be obstinate. Na, na. 
 As you was sayin', we 're all the work o' God's hands, 
 men and women alike; and I canna doubt He felt a 
 sort o' pride when He made her. If you 're ma 
 friend, you '11 swear to that." 
 
 " I '11 swear to onythin' ye like, Toddie ; but who 
 is she?" 
 
 Partially mollified, Toddie gazed at his guest with 
 an air of profound mystery: then rose unsteadily to 
 his feet. 
 
 " I '11 let ye into the secret," he hiccoughed confi- 
 dentially, steadying himself with the aid of the table. 
 *' She 's she 's a woman." 
 
 " Hoots, I could ha' told " 
 
 " A woman o' principles I mean," continued Tod- 
 die. " I respect her. She respects me. We both 
 respects each other. We stand firm. D 'ye see ? " 
 
 Rashly withdrawing his hand in order to empha- 
 159
 
 TODDIE 
 
 size this statement, he came perilously near to falling, 
 but recovering his equilibrium with an effort, he drew 
 himself up, gazed with maudlin and defiant dignity 
 at the spectator, then turning, made a swift and suc- 
 cessful descent upon the bed. 
 
 A whine of eloquent disappointment rose from un- 
 der the table. 
 
 " Guid sakes ! " ejaculated Toddie's voice from the 
 interior of the recess. " Bob, ma man, I forgot ye. 
 I 'm no better nor a selfish beast. Tarn, are ye still 
 there?" 
 
 " Aye, Toddie." 
 
 " Will ye give Bob a run ? He '11 go with ye if I 
 tell him. I 'm that sleepy. Thank ye, Tarn. Bob 
 loves ye like a brither. Goo' night." 
 
 " Come on, Bob," said Tarn. 
 
 160
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 FOR the matter of a quarter of an hour there was 
 silence in the little room. The Scottish Sab- 
 bath lay heavy on the gray town, hedging it about 
 with an almost tangible atmosphere of pious depres- 
 sion. It lay like a pall also upon the spirits. This 
 seventh day struck one as being composed of differ- 
 ent stuff from other days so powerful is the influ- 
 ence of mind over matter as though it had volun- 
 tarily cut itself off from their society, like a pious 
 sheep isolating itself from six ungodly goats. 
 
 Even the church bells, that were wont to ring out 
 so merrily for a wedding, seemed to have caught the 
 infection, for their voices, heard faintly in Toddie's 
 room, tolled an invitation as lugubrious as though 
 they were inviting that unregenerate slumberer to 
 rise and attend his own funeral. 
 
 But Toddie was beyond their influence, far away 
 in a land of dreams. Kindly sleep that unseals for 
 rich and poor alike the limitless storehouse of the de- 
 sires, had transported him to an enchanted region, a 
 better land, or rather a better links, where caddies 
 ceased from carrying, and bachelors were at rest. 
 11 161
 
 TODDIE 
 
 All at once, with a start, Toddie woke up. 
 
 For a moment he lay gazing vacantly at the roof 
 of the box-bed, unable to locate his surroundings, 
 and equally unable to decide whether it was time for 
 breakfast or for supper. Then, the noise that had 
 awakened him being repeated, and resolving itself into 
 a sharp knock at the door, he muttered to himself: 
 " It 's one o' the neighbors, he '11 go away if I dinna 
 let on I 'm here." 
 
 In pursuance of these tactics he lay silent; but it 
 appeared that the visitor whoever he might be 
 was uncommonly tenacious of his purpose ; for, as 
 Toddie lay listening, he heard the sharp click of the 
 latch, the door opened, then closed, and, finally, a 
 firm step resounded on the stone floor. 
 
 With feelings of considerable annoyance the mas- 
 ter of the house contrived to turn upon his side so 
 that he might peep between the bed-curtains. But 
 no sooner had he done so than all breath was driven 
 from his body. For there, large, imposing and black, 
 stood Devina. 
 
 Fully awake now, Toddie stared at her, a prey to 
 petrifaction as rigid as though her handsome head 
 had possessed all the horrid qualities of Medusa. And 
 to gauge fully the depth and the height of Toddie's 
 incredulity, it must be remembered that for years no 
 foot of mortal woman had dared to desecrate the 
 sanctity of this his virgin citadel. The fumes of
 
 TODDIE 
 
 whisky added not a little to the marvel of her ap- 
 pearance, for she trembled in a haze of troubled in- 
 stability, slowly undulating in a species of mystic 
 shadow-dance wherein not only she, but the walls, the 
 floor, the ceiling, and every single article of furni- 
 ture, took part. 
 
 The situation was sufficiently alarming. Bob had 
 deserted him. He was poignantly aware of being 
 taken unawares of looking and feeling at his worst. 
 
 At this his conscience smote him. It was all very 
 well to send it to sleep with Scriptural texts in De- 
 vina's absence, but in her presence no such course was 
 possible. Nothing but the truth could live when con- 
 fronted by these eyes, calm, clear, and inexorable as 
 the truth itself. And, alas, the truth in this case 
 was very ugly! It bore stern witness against him. 
 He was drunk. He knew it. Everything revolved. 
 He doubted if he could even stand. The situation 
 was terrible. 
 
 She would think less of him. Less? That was a 
 mild word. He was prepared to bet a penny that she 
 would despise him. At that he squirmed internally. 
 Why should he care what this woman thought of 
 him ? It was queer, but but he did. He could 
 disguise it from himself no longer. Her good opin- 
 ion was very precious in his eyes. 
 
 No doubt he had been well premature. He 
 had posed as sober. He had smilingly accepted her 
 
 163
 
 TODDIE 
 
 praise. He had felt pleased, and flattered, and happy 
 under a halo to which he could not truthfully lay 
 claim. It was all Tarn's fault aye, and Solomon's. 
 What right had they to come tempting an honest 
 caddie? And that Tarn had not only beguiled him 
 from the path of virtue, but had sneaked away in the 
 hour of danger, leaving his victim to face the conse- 
 quences. Tarn was a coward. Yes, Tarn alone was 
 to blame. But would Devina understand that? He 
 doubted it. 
 
 Long as this painful reverie takes to record, it 
 passed with rapidity through the bemused mind of 
 Toddie as he lay there quaking with apprehension 
 and guilt. One idea the instinct of self-preserva- 
 tion dominated all others, for he realized with what 
 little clarity was left to him that his one hope of 
 safety lay in absolute silence and immobility. 
 
 Swiftly she strode to and fro. " What the deevil 
 is she up to now? " thought Toddie, then with alarm, 
 " Ma word, if she 's no' tryin' to clean ma verra 
 room." It was true. Devina, after a moment of 
 hesitation, was working with method and celerity, her 
 jacket discarded, her arms bare to the elbow. At her 
 touch order sprang from disorder. Toddie could 
 hear her occasional grunt of disgust when she chanced 
 upon some ancient accumulation of rubbish, or some 
 unwashed garment poked behind the dresser for 
 safety. He suppressed a groan. Reaching the 
 
 164
 
 TODDIE 
 
 grandfather's clock she paused, broom In hand, to 
 inspect a " comic cut " which its owner had pinned 
 to its venerable frame. In another moment the work 
 of art had joined the collection on the floor. Nor is 
 this the only indignity that Toddie had to suffer. 
 There was worse to come. His socks his Sunday 
 socks, mark you, of a quality so superior that it 
 would have been the height of extravagance to have 
 subjected them to the wear and tear of the wash-tub, 
 were removed with the tongs! 
 
 Nearer and nearer she came. If Toddie had dared 
 to stretch out a hand he could have touched her. All 
 at once she paused, straightened her hat, gnawed at 
 her underlip, gazed thoughtfully at the bed. Tod- 
 die ceased to breathe. Then, suddenly, there was a 
 swift forward movement, the curtains were torn aside 
 and all was over. 
 
 To do Devina justice, she was the more taken 
 aback of the two. With a loud ejaculation she re- 
 coiled at least a yard. But Toddie, cowering low, 
 gave no sign. 
 
 " You 're there," she cried. 
 
 He acquiesced with extreme reluctance. 
 
 " What are ye doin' in yer bed at this time o' day ? 
 Are ye ailin' ? " 
 
 A glimmer of hope flashed upon the situation, but 
 alas, Toddie vowed once more to compromising ve- 
 racity extinguished it at once. 
 
 165
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " No," he muttered, " I canna say I 'm exactly 
 ailin'. Yet " he added hopefully, " ma legs feels 
 queer." 
 
 In spite of his strenuous efforts to enunciate with 
 distinctness, his speech betrayed him. Suspicion 
 awoke in Devina's mind. But too sadly conversant 
 with the symptoms of intoxication had not her 
 life with her father been one long, unavailing struggle 
 to cure him of the vice ? she recognized them all 
 in the helpless figure outstretched before her. Her 
 gorge rose in disgust. 
 
 " You 're drunk ! " she cried. 
 
 "Dinna!" protested Toddie earnestly, jerking 
 himself to a sitting posture and stretching out a hand. 
 " Dinna say that, it 's it 's only that I wasna ex- 
 pectin' visitors." 
 
 She stood in the middle of the floor gazing at him 
 with stern and irrevocable condemnation, her head 
 flung back, her bosom slightly heaving, her hands 
 still grasping the broom handle, while around her the 
 dust clouds settled slowly. She felt that her mind 
 was made up at once and forever. And truth to tell, 
 it was no delectable object that quailed before her 
 gaze, for drink and neglect of his person were writ 
 large in untidy hair, flushed face, bloodshot eyes, un- 
 shaven chin, even in the high water mark that encir- 
 cled his collarless neck, and in his trembling and out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 166
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I wouldna have come," she said in a low forced 
 voice that vibrated with remorse, " but I wanted you 
 to know that that Major o' yours is comin' to his 
 tea again to-day. That man Herd told me ye lived 
 here. I canna think what made me come." She 
 broke off, visibly overwhelmed with self-reproachful 
 amazement. " I thought I 'd find a decent, sober, 
 God-fearin' man who, if he doesna attend the Kirk, 
 knows at least how to honor the Sabbath in his own 
 house. I 've been deceived, but I '11 not be taken in 
 a second time. Is this the way ye read your Bible? 
 Is this your pretended piety ? Is this your hatred of 
 drink ! " Her gesture enveloped Toddie with a wave 
 of unspeakable scorn. " Shuttin' yourself up alone 
 and drinkin' yourself drunk in yer bed. Shame on 
 ye! Ma father whiles came home drunk, an' a sair 
 affliction it was. But he was tempted by them that 
 should have known better. There was some excuse 
 for him. He was just a bairn, and couldna say no. 
 But you " Again Toddie shrank, and again the 
 denunciatory finger nailed him to the pillory of the 
 box-bed " You! There 's no excuse for you. 
 None ! " 
 
 The torrent of her reprobation broke over him as 
 an irresistible surge might break over the head of a 
 swimmer. It took his breath away. His muddled 
 brain was in no condition to frame excuses. He had 
 indeed a trembling idea about quoting Solomon in 
 
 167
 
 TODDIE 
 
 self-defense, but his agitation was so extreme that he 
 could not remember the words. Moreover, he 
 vaguely felt that in this case at all events the quota- 
 tion was on the face of it inexact, and that drink 
 could not be said to have made the heart of man re- 
 joice. No, as he had not only made, but taken to 
 his bed, so must he lie in it, until this terrible ordeal 
 was over. 
 
 There was that in Devina's manner that suggested 
 more than her words conveyed. In the tone of her 
 voice and more particularly when she referred to 
 her anticipation of finding him honoring the Sabbath 
 there had sounded a note of disappointment that 
 might almost have been called personal, had not its 
 expression been so unconscious as to elude self-knowl- 
 edge. It seemed as though something too formless, 
 too undefined for speech and almost for thought had 
 sprung suddenly into being, realized its futility, and 
 burst into bitterness, becoming as it were a lash where- 
 with she scourged not only the cause of her delusion, 
 but also, and with still greater severity, her deluded 
 self. 
 
 It was worse than he had feared far worse. His 
 most secret apprehension had come to pass. She 
 despised him. 
 
 Bewildered, smarting, helpless, he stared up into 
 168
 
 TODDIE 
 
 her stern countenance, his mouth twitching, his blood- 
 shot eyes suffused with involuntary tears. 
 
 The silence that ensued was of long duration. 
 Faint sounds stole from the street to the room, un- 
 heeded by either occupant. The light that struggled 
 in through the dirty little window was momentarily 
 becoming less. It dimly showed Toddie's face, white 
 and drawn, and Devina's dark and motionless figure. 
 The gathering dusk weighted with the sadness that 
 attends the death of each short-lived winter's day, 
 seemed the material counterpart of the depression 
 that lay heavy upon these strangely assorted friends. 
 
 Devina's mind no less than Toddie's was in a tur- 
 moil. She asked herself questions to which there 
 seemed no satisfactory answers. She had said her 
 say, why did she not go? What kept her standing 
 here in this man's room? Of one thing she was dis- 
 tressfully aware his silence filled her with com- 
 punction. She had nerved herself for vociferous 
 vindication, for maudlin anger, even for drunken 
 abuse. Had these come she would have met them 
 with the contempt they would have merited. 
 
 But this continued silence took her aback. In it, 
 and in his appearance, there was something tremulous, 
 pathetic. It made her feel as though he were a child, 
 or a dumb animal smitten undeservedly. 
 
 The justice of her cause seemed to avail her noth- 
 169
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ing. It was almost as if she, and not he, were to 
 blame. This unforeseen, and indeed unmerited, turn- 
 ing of the tables galled her. Still actuated by dis- 
 gust, she hardened her heart against compassion. 
 He deserved all she had said and more. She tried to 
 persuade herself that his very silence and tearfulness 
 was a pose, an attempt to put her in the wrong. And 
 though she did not quite succeed in believing this, yet 
 the mere suggestion strengthened her in her resolve 
 to " stand no nonsense." Rousing herself with an ef- 
 fort, she again spoke to him. 
 
 Toddie, Listening to the deep voice, striving to dis- 
 tinguish the dark figure that blurred and became one 
 with the surrounding gloom, painfully seeking to un- 
 derstand, followed the drift of her meaning rather 
 than her actual words. 
 
 It appeared that his conduct had confirmed the un- 
 favorable opinions she cherished towards men that 
 he was a drunken ne'er-do-weel that his room was 
 little better than a pigsty, and his habits and person 
 a disgrace to the Scottish nation that no self-re- 
 specting woman would demean herself by associating 
 with him and that finally as she, Devina, saw no 
 hope of his amending his ways, all question of further 
 partnership was at an end. 
 
 Her voice still vibrated dreadfully in his ears 
 his heart still sank to great and greater depths of 
 despondency, but it was not till he heard the sound 
 
 170
 
 TODDIE 
 
 of the closing door that Toddie realized that she had 
 left him in anger. And even then he could not quite 
 credit her departure, but lay silent and apprehensive, 
 half expecting her to return to the attack. 
 
 But the silence that followed was profound. It 
 seemed strange and unnatural, weighted with inde- 
 scribable fatality. Beneath it Toddie lay engulfed 
 as a drowned man might lie buried forever in the ir- 
 reclaimable depths of the sea. 
 
 No animosity towards his departed guest found 
 place in his thoughts. He still admired her. If 
 possible, he respected her even more. Her moral 
 character seemed to soar above him, unattainable, 
 incomprehensible. But for the mere fact of its ex- 
 istence he could at all events feel grateful. It was he 
 himself who had fallen in his estimation ; and as he 
 looked upon the picture so ruthlessly painted by De- 
 vina, and saw himself for the first time in glaring and 
 objectionable colors, a hearty contempt for the man 
 he had been, mingled with lively remorse, and a long- 
 ing to be better. 
 
 This latter impulse was altogether undisciplined 
 it was a startling and novel idea it was forced 
 to justify its existence by combating a lifetime of 
 easy-going indifference as regards all moral progres- 
 sion whatsoever. But the desire to do something 
 worthy of Devina's friendship was in itself the best 
 antidote to the discouragement and self-dissatisfac- 
 
 171
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tion that overwhelmed him. But what could he do? 
 Pressing his hands to his burning head, he tried to 
 think. 
 
 All at once he rolled from his bed and essayed to 
 stand. To his astonishment he found he could do 
 so quite easily. Intoxication had fled. 
 
 As he stood there in the gathering dusk he was 
 conscious of unusual gravity, and as though he were 
 face to face with some important crisis, not to be set 
 aside. The unfamiliar aspect of his room added to 
 his solemnity. It was uncannily tidy, with a neatness 
 and order not of this life. 
 
 Scarcely aware of the act, he touched the duster 
 of which Devina had made use, touched it fearfully, 
 yet reverently, as though within its folds there still 
 lurked some memory of the woman who despised him. 
 
 For long he stood there, the duster in his hands, 
 plunged in thought. Then, suddenly, as one who 
 makes up his mind, he turned to the cupboard in the 
 wall and took therefrom a bottle. As his fingers 
 closed round its neck, the cool familiar contact, elo- 
 quent of rosy and Bacchanalian hours who shall 
 say how many attempted to shake his resolution. 
 But the time had gone for such weakness. With a 
 jerk of his head he marched resolutely to the fireplace, 
 and poured the entire contents upon the ashes.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 TO converse with a dog is oftentimes more satis- 
 factory than to converse with a human being. 
 It is to enjoy all the freedom of solitude, yet not be 
 deprived of the comfort of companionship. It is to 
 unbosom the fyeart of those feelings that lie closest to 
 it to be sad or gay, practical or sentimental, child- 
 ish or grown-up as the mood sways us, without fear 
 of censure or ridicule. It is to find always the same 
 faithful friend, one who will neither argue nor con- 
 tradict, a silent listener, a ready sympathizer. It is 
 never to be disappointed. 
 
 Under such golden conditions what wonder that the 
 natural man peeps out, throws off all disguise, all 
 reticence, all self-consciousness, reveals the texture of 
 his secret thoughts, the very fabric of his inmost 
 soul? 
 
 Such friends meet midway in the mind's infinity, 
 between the dog-star and the human planet, in some 
 happy enchanted sphere of mutual love and compre- 
 hension. For a while the dog discards his dogdom, 
 and the man his humanity. The former condescends 
 to be almost a man, the latter succeeds in becoming 
 
 173
 
 TODDIE 
 
 nearly a dog. Sympathy, that divine knitter of kin- 
 dred souls, touches them with her wand. The man, 
 forgetful of the devious contortions of civilized 
 speech, becomes simple, sincere, transparent vir- 
 tues derived without a doubt from the noble and inar- 
 ticulate soul of his companion while the dog, for 
 his part, lending himself generously to the occasion, 
 condones a world of unnecessary and, to him, incom- 
 prehensible sound for the sake of the kindness from 
 which it springs. 
 
 Show me the man who can talk to his dog, and I 
 will show you a good fellow. Not one who flings 
 him a hasty word of which it were well if both were 
 ignorant a peremptory command, or even a luke- 
 warm endearment. These will never plead for him at 
 the bar of that silent judge. Not one who throws 
 him the bone of an idea from which he himself has 
 devoured the meat but one who offers this partner 
 of his joys and sorrows a conversational cut from 
 the juiciest portion of the intellectual roast. 
 
 Few men can talk to their dogs. Toddie was one 
 of the number. His conversations with Bob were 
 long and intimate. They sounded the whole gamut 
 of ideas of which Toddie was capable. Into that at- 
 tentive ear he had poured more confidences than ever 
 were listened to by the connubial pillow. If ever a 
 dog were deeply learned in his master's mind, it was 
 Bob. From the study of sheep to the study of hu- 
 
 174
 
 TODDIE 
 
 manity is not such a far cry as might be supposed. 
 The qualities which Bob had acquired stood him in 
 good stead. He brought to his new task a keenness 
 of observation, a leniency, and above all a patience 
 rare even among the best of shepherds. Nothing is 
 ever wasted. Even his tenderness towards newly- 
 born lambs was transferred whole-heartedly to Tod- 
 die. 
 
 As for our hero, he was convinced that Bob under- 
 stood, if not the precise meaning, at all events the 
 drift of every word he uttered. His explanation to 
 Tarn of the doctrine of love was not so metaphoric as 
 they both had surmised. It literally warmed him to 
 pour out his soul before his shaggy comforter, to 
 look down and behold the bright eyes instinct with 
 intelligence and devotion, to note the ragged ears 
 cocked to an angle of flattering attention, to hear the 
 tender thud of the tail upon the floor. Under these 
 influences he sometimes taxed the good-nature of 
 Bob far beyond the limits of friendship. Thus, upon 
 the day when he had discovered the Major, Bob was 
 compelled to witness, if not actually to take part in, 
 an orgy distressing to one by nature addicted to 
 water; and on the night succeeding the intrusion of 
 Devina, Bob was held forcibly in conversation long 
 after the hour at which he was usually at liberty to 
 seek his bed. From which the reader will infer that 
 even friendship is not without its drawbacks. 
 
 175
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Now, I defy you to live on terms of intimacy with 
 a fellow being and not become instantly aware of a 
 change in their mental outlook. The most insignifi- 
 cant thought, the most trivial action, spreads its con- 
 sequences like a stone thrown into water; how much 
 more noticeable then a revolution of the soul, a moral 
 earthquake that overthrows all familiar landmarks? 
 Bob, who, had he consented to betray his master's se- 
 crets a treachery of which we know well he was 
 incapable could have told you from the mere sound 
 of the beloved footsteps whether or no Toddie had 
 paid a visit to the public, was not likely to remain 
 in ignorance of a misfortune that changed his mas- 
 ter in the wag of a tail from a joyous, happy-go- 
 lucky, devil-may-care, wine-bibbing little caddie into 
 as brooding, melancholy, and sober a man as ever car- 
 ried a golf -bag round the links of St. Andrews. 
 
 Even had he not been taken into Toddie's confi- 
 dence as already related upon the memorable oc- 
 casion of Devina's visit though if the truth were 
 known he had been so overcome with sleep during that 
 interminable soliloquy that he could not afterwards 
 remember a single word there were yet a thousand 
 signs of regeneration to open his eyes. Whether or 
 no he attributed the calamitous change directly to 
 Devina is a matter of conjecture. He himself, with 
 the exquisite tact that was one of his most chivalrous 
 qualities, never breathed a syllable upon the subject 
 
 176
 
 never even gave Toddie occasion to suspect that 
 he linked his name with that of a woman. A human 
 confidant would have ejaculated triumphantly, " I 
 told you so." Bob merely yawned. The former 
 might possibly have laughed. Bob did not even 
 smile. The man might have resented Toddie's fits of 
 depression. The dog only saw in them a reason for 
 redoubling his attentions, for creeping closer to Tod- 
 die's side, for thrusting his nose with greater fre- 
 quency into Toddie's apathetic hand. 
 
 O Dogs, angels in canine form, from what heav- 
 enly land do ye come to bear with our infirmities, to 
 comfort and console! 
 
 But, while preserving his habitual unclouded de- 
 meanor, deep in his honest heart Bob was anxious. 
 From his own particular corner by the fire he watched 
 Toddie's every movement with a very natural and 
 affectionate apprehension. Not that he deduced 
 melancholia from sobriety that was beyond him, 
 but he vaguely felt that something was wrong. He 
 missed the old hilarity, so characteristic of his mas- 
 ter, he missed, too, the brightening, if unsteady eye, 
 he mourned the jovial, if inebriated voice. He missed 
 more than these. One night he missed his dinner. 
 Toddie, plunged in the chaos of his own distracting 
 thoughts, had forgotten to feed either man or beast. 
 There is a limit to all things. Bob decided that this 
 
 was the limit. His vociferous reproaches awoke the 
 12
 
 TODDIE 
 
 echoes of Logic's Lane, and brought down Toddie's 
 wrath upon his innocent head. Of course they made 
 it up directly, as became friends. Bob was forgiven 
 for Toddie's oversight, and humbly testified his grati- 
 tude. The meal finished, they settled down into one 
 of their usual postprandial chats. 
 
 " Bob," said Toddie, as that favored individual 
 hopped lightly on to his knee with the assured air of 
 one positive of welcome, " Bob, I do believe ye care 
 for me." 
 
 Bob's whole body wriggled an affirmative. 
 
 Toddie tucked one arm round him, whereupon the 
 dog, laying his rough head against his master's chest, 
 looked up at him with an expression so sentimental 
 that it would have prompted smiles did it not betray 
 unalienable love and fidelity. 
 
 " Aye," muttered Toddie, " you 're not one to give 
 a poor man the go-by. If I was to rob a kirk ye 
 would think none the less of me, eh ? " 
 
 This sacrilegious idea, far from scandalizing, left 
 Bob totally unmoved. 
 
 " A dog 's a queer thing," grunted his master, 
 comforted, and pulling the yellow ears gently ; 
 " drunk or sober, he 's ay yer friend. What d' ye get 
 here, ye wee besom, to make ye like that? Shut up 
 most o' the day, a bone for yer dinner, a sup o' par- 
 ritch for yer tea, a bare board for yer bed. What 's 
 that? Mony a poor body in jail has better. And 
 
 178
 
 TODDIE 
 
 jet, there ye are, waggin' yer silly tail aff when ye see 
 me come hame. Bob, Bob, that 's no' the way o' the 
 world 1" 
 
 He sighed, shook his head, then continued in tones 
 of nai've and modest wonder: 
 
 " What can ye see in me ? What is 't ye admire ? 
 It beats me. It canna be the ootside onyway. Nae- 
 body in their senses would call me bonnie though 
 between oorselves, Bob, I 've seen worse. What 
 then? It must be the heart, as I telt Tarn. Aye, 
 ye look deep. Is that it? And what d' ye see there? 
 Ye think I care for ye? Man, ye 're just a wee mass 
 o' conceit frae yer impident nose to yer senseless 
 tail!" 
 
 A pause, during which Bob and Toddie continued 
 to gaze affectionately at each other. 
 
 " Ma word ! " exclaimed the latter suddenly. 
 " What 's this ? Aye, gray hairs f I never noticed 
 them before. Here and here." He closely in- 
 spected the upturned muzzle, then patted the patient 
 head. " Weel, weel, you and me just sit and watch 
 each ither growin' auld, Bob, and mind the days lang 
 syne when we was young. Aye, it comes tae us all, 
 man or dog. But, hoots, what does it matter when 
 we love each ither. It just draws us nearer. Ye 
 feel that, eh? I was certain o' it. And yet " his 
 voice sank to a hoarse and confidential whisper " I 
 confess to you that when I see Tarn shamblin' after 
 
 179
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the gentlemen me mindin' what like he was says 
 I to maself : * That '11 be you, Toddie, in a matter 
 o' twenty year.' Aye, it 's a fearsome thought, but 
 you '11 be auld too and that 's a consolation. Here ! 
 Sit up till I get oot ma baccy." 
 
 His pipe in full blast, Toddie relapsed into a 
 brown study. Bob winked lazily at the fire, then 
 gradually closed his eyes. For some time there was 
 silence in the little room, broken only by the ticking 
 of the clock. Then, all at once, Bob was aroused 
 from his light doze by feeling the broad chest against 
 which his head was resting, rise and fall. Drowsily 
 he cocked one ear. Again the phenomenon occurred. 
 At this both ears rose simultaneously. 
 
 "Aye, aye," sighed Toddie. "All over." 
 
 So full of despondency was this remark that it 
 shook the listener both physically and mentally. The 
 voice continued: 
 
 " Never speak to me again. Oot of ma life. I 
 never thought I wish I 'd give onything so I 
 would. But " 
 
 There ensued another lengthy pause, then Bob, 
 listening anxiously, heard again his master's voice 
 and, as much as a dog could, wondered at the sad and 
 wistful pathos of its tones. 
 
 " If I 'd only kenned it before. But I was 
 blind. That bonnie day on the rocks I never 
 thought it at the time but I was happy. I see 
 
 180
 
 TODDIE 
 
 it fine now. If she 'd only cared that woman could 
 ha' done onything she liked with me! Just ony- 
 thing. It 's amazin' ! I canna take ma thoughts aff 
 her. That voice o' hers aye, and that glint o' her 
 een ! I never imagined onything in the world could 
 be sae bonnie. Ah, why canna it be all over again? 
 Why? Why? If she could just come back the once. 
 Ma God ! I 'd make her see. But, what 's the use 1 
 She 's gone. She '11 never come back. It 's too 
 late ! " 
 
 His voice, scarcely raised above a whisper, struck 
 a note of misery keen and personal. For the mo- 
 ment he had forgotten his listener his surround- 
 ings forgotten everything save Devina and that 
 by his own fault he had lost her. 
 
 Bob, face to face with a sorrow he could not 
 understand, whimpered softly. Toddie drew him 
 closer. 
 
 " Wee mannie, ye feel for me. But ye canna help 
 me. If ye could only speak now, ye 'd say a word 
 for me. Ye 'd tell her I wasna all bad. I believe 
 she 'd listen to you she likes ye. And, here ! 
 ye mustna judge her by what I told ye she said the 
 ither night. She was upset, and no wonder. Ye 
 see, Bob, there 's just women and women. Some on 
 them drag a man doon and ithers just lift him 
 up. That 's her way, and man, it 's bonnie. Men 
 are what women make o' them, I can see that now. 
 
 181
 
 TODDIE 
 
 And me I 've had nae chance. Ah, Bob, if ma 
 mither had only been like her ! " 
 
 Bob could no longer restrain himself. There he 
 was on his hind legs on Toddie's knee, his nose whis- 
 tling out of pure sympathy. 
 
 " Doon ! " muttered his master. " Doon ! 
 doon!" 
 
 But Bob was struggling to insert his head between 
 the grimy muffler and the unwashed neck. 
 
 " I wonder ye care to touch me," cried Toddie in 
 a burst of unwonted passion. " I 'm a disgrace. 
 Them 's her words." 
 
 But sublimely indifferent to female prejudice, Bob 
 was now engaged in licking enthusiastically. 
 
 " Ma word ! " cried Toddie, struck with a bewilder- 
 ing idea. " If he 's no' tryin' to clean me hisself." 
 
 In sudden shame he regained his feet. Bob, ab- 
 ruptly dislodged, watched him with renewed anxiety. 
 What was this? What meant this unusual pouring 
 out of water, this application of soap? He had 
 speedy cause to lament his attempt at consolation. 
 
 " Your turn," cried the metamorphosed Toddie, 
 his face glowing the result of unusual friction. 
 " Come oot o' that. Ye needna hide." 
 
 Ten minutes later a wiser and a sadder dog, damp, 
 depressed, and disconcertingly clean, sat at the fire 
 and shivered. 
 
 182
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 TALL, statuesque, commanding, framed by the 
 semi-drawn curtains, Devina stood motionless 
 in the window of Charity's bedroom. A westerly 
 gale was at its height, accentuating the sadness of 
 vast and desolate spaces over which the wintry twi- 
 light had already fallen. 
 
 There was something elemental and even vaguely 
 terrifying in the unfettered wind, in its loud vio- 
 lence, its mysterious viewlessness, its sudden irra- 
 tional lulls, its swift and savage assaults. Some- 
 thing infinitely pathetic, infinitely mournful too in 
 the writhing of the tormented earth the trees 
 wildly tossing their devastated branches, the very 
 grass appearing to be shaken by convulsive and un- 
 controllable shudders. 
 
 The ragged and low-flying clouds swept the sky 
 with their wings. They fled seawards from the 
 dying West, to the East already dead. Swiftly and 
 without intermission they streamed, like the rout of 
 an . innumerable army. The earth was darkened by 
 their passage. 
 
 183
 
 TODDIE 
 
 They trailed their mournful shadows likewise over 
 the face of the woman at the window, alternately 
 obscuring and revealing the stern dark features that 
 unconsciously claimed kindred with their gloom. 
 
 And not their material aspect only, but their spirit 
 of lamentable and eternal unrest the spirit that 
 fled from the day to seek refuge in the night 
 seemed to creep close in this hour of premature dark- 
 ness, close till it touched her life. 
 
 Her thoughts were sad though her expression 
 was less melancholy than perturbed too sad for 
 speech, thoughts that but a little while ago had forced 
 her to close a window hastily upon the distant sound 
 of a barrel-organ, betrayed into emotion, her eyes 
 full of sudden and inexplicable tears. A sense of 
 loss, a wistful and hopeless yearning, a tenderness 
 deep, deep down, may feed upon a woman's heart 
 every day, yet remain unsuspected, because unex- 
 pressed. 
 
 As she stood there, one hand upon the curtain- 
 fringe, the blackness of her dress merging into the 
 blackness of the shadowy room, but her face showing 
 faintly white against the growing obscurity, her mind 
 drifted hither and thither upon a sea of painful and 
 agitated thought. The memory of two men held 
 her an unwilling captive two men Archie and 
 Toddie the man she had loved, and the man she 
 despised. 
 
 184
 
 TODDIE 
 
 For some time they had obsessed her, though when 
 mistress of her thoughts she drove them indignantly 
 from her mind. With the insidiousness of persistent 
 and unwelcome recollections they took advantage of 
 her occupations, when her attention was engaged 
 upon other matters, to create a vacuum which they 
 alone could fill. Entirely without her consent, and 
 almost entirely without her knowledge, the demon 
 of thought busied itself with these two men, recalling 
 their actions, words, looks, comparing them men- 
 tally and physically ; brooding over the memory of 
 the one a something shameful, that must be buried 
 puzzling itself fruitlessly over the other a some- 
 thing contemptible, not worth burying racked by 
 regrets, inflamed by scornful recollections, tormented 
 by doubts and tremulous indecisions. 
 
 Waking therefrom, as from a vague yet troubling 
 dream, Devina wondered at herself with an immense, 
 an incredulous, and a sternly self-accusing amaze- 
 ment. What! She, Devina, to occupy herself with 
 thoughts of men ! A wave of burning self-reproach 
 inundated her face. Her conscience convicted her 
 of indelicacy, nay, more, of hypocrisy. Had she 
 not that very morning poured the vials of her scorn 
 over the head of the house-parlormaid, because, be- 
 cause, forsooth, that misguided and love-lorn maiden 
 was discovered in the act of concealing a photograph 
 within the bosom of her dress? 
 
 185
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Is that you, Devina? " exclaimed a voice. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Charity." 
 
 The girl approached the window, 'and standing by 
 Devina's side looked outwards at the storm. 
 
 " How dark it 's getting," she said. 
 
 The sound of the sympathetic voice, with a cer- 
 tain resonant timber in it, the audible presentation 
 of Charity's personality, soothed Devina. It stirred, 
 as ever, to quicker and more conscious life the cur- 
 rent of inarticulate devotion that flowed from her 
 heart to her young mistress. To Devina this girl 
 was more than a sweet and gracious presence more 
 even than an outlet for pent-up affection. She rep- 
 resented all that was good in an evil world. 
 
 The wind fell upon the house, screamed down the 
 chimneys, beat as with insistent and passionate hands 
 upon the windows, then, baffled at every point, was 
 heard to bluster away into the darkness. 
 
 The two women listened, Charity uneasily, Devina 
 with indifference. 
 
 " I hope no one is at sea to-night," said the former 
 in a low voice. 
 
 " No one," referring presumably to creatures mas- 
 culine, the latter snorted. 
 
 " What were you doing when I came in ? " ques- 
 tioned Charity, after an interval. 
 
 " I was closin' up." 
 
 " Why don't you leave that to Jessie ? " 
 186
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Jessie ! " The memory of the photograph 
 rankled afresh. " Her ! A silly, useless, flighty 
 thing. Do you think she goes round the house when 
 it rains ? No' likely ! The ither day the water was 
 just pourin' in at the bathroom window, and what 
 do ye think I found her doin'? Carryin' on with 
 the butcher. Her that 's engaged to the plumber 
 or ought to be," added Devina grimly. 
 
 Charity smiled. 
 
 " But you '11 spoil her if " 
 
 " Spoil her? Me spoil her? " Devina gave vent 
 to a short and mirthless laugh. " You wouldna have 
 said that if ye could have heard me. She '11 no' 
 waste the butcher's time again, I 'm thinkin'. His 
 time 's meat. Spoil her? Hoots, she 's the one that 
 does all the spoilin'. Did she not spoil the tap in 
 the pantry? ' Makin' work for yer plumber?' says 
 I. And what a way to take a friendly remark 
 cryin' like a big baby ! " 
 
 " I wish you got on better with the others." 
 
 " I wish I did. But there 's some things I canna 
 do, even to please you. It 's it 's the way I 'm 
 made. I canna stand their silliness. Aye, and their 
 waste. What servants are comin' to, beats me. 
 They take no pride in their work only in their 
 faces. Says Cook : ' Blue 's ma color.' Did ye 
 ever hear the like o' that, Miss Charity." 
 
 Charity laughed. 
 
 187
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Aye, ye can laugh ! Nae doot it 's funny, 
 though I canna see it. Thinkin' of her color with 
 her dinner plates all dirty. Na, na, ye needna blame 
 me for doin' their work, for I just canna help it. I 
 ken other f olks's duty, and please God, I '11 do it." 
 
 A silence ensued, broken only by the wind and 
 the fitful patter of raindrops upon the streaming 
 panes. 
 
 " There can have been no golf this afternoon," said 
 Charity. 
 
 " No," assented Devina sourly. 
 
 Another silence, during which Devina struck with 
 a sudden idea gazed with anxiety at her young mis- 
 tress ; but the growing dusk, like a kindly and con- 
 cealing veil, shrouded Charity's features. 
 
 "She's thinkin' o' that Major," thought Devina, 
 longing yet fearing to question. 
 
 A feeling of impotence oppressed her the im- 
 potence of one forgotten, of one who holds the 
 body with loving and jealous eyes, but is powerless 
 to enchain the heart. 
 
 " I wonder " 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 There was a pause, during which Devina did not 
 dare to move, much less to speak. It was as though 
 she watched a bird, nearing her, unconscious of her 
 presence. 
 
 " I wonder," continued the girl's voice, barely 
 188
 
 TODDIE 
 
 audible in the windy dusk, " I wonder what it feels 
 like to live alone." 
 
 " Umph ! there would be naebody to bother ye." 
 
 "And no one to love you, Devina." 
 
 Silence. 
 
 " And the loneliness of it. Just think to go 
 out and come in every day, and no one to care, or to 
 ask you if you 've enjoyed yourself." She paused, 
 deep in thought, then suddenly : " Devina, we ought 
 to try to make them happy." 
 
 "Guidsakeslwho?" 
 
 " The people who live alone. We might ask them 
 to tea." 
 
 Devina frowned heavily. 
 
 " Ye canna do that. It would be an awful ex- 
 pense. If ye asked all the lonely folk in St. An- 
 drews to their tea ye would have to take the Town 
 Hall." 
 
 For the moment the idea of such prodigal hos- 
 pitality took Charity aback, but at the next she 
 smiled. 
 
 " Charity begins at home." 
 
 Devina, vaguely scenting another joke, sniffed sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " We might begin with Toddie and and Major 
 Dale." 
 
 The girl waited for a comment, but none came. 
 The figure by her side more than ever obscured 
 
 189
 
 TODDIE 
 
 as the moments passed listened to the suggestion in 
 ominous silence. 
 
 " They both lead such lonely lives and " 
 
 " I dinna ken what ye 'd be after," burst out De- 
 vina, driven into desperation. " Is it not their ain 
 fault if they 're lonesome ? Could they no' keep 
 house thegither like you and me? To hear ye talk, 
 a body would think ye had never had that Major 
 in before. Hoots, ye 're always askin' him to his 
 tea." 
 
 " Major Dale," corrected Charity with dignity. 
 " And you 're quite wrong. He comes without be- 
 ing asked." 
 
 " Weel, he canna be that lonely seein' that he 's 
 always here ; and as for that caddie o' his " 
 
 She broke off. Her face flushed in the twilight. 
 
 " I thought you liked him? " 
 
 " Me ! Like him ! " There was swift scorn in 
 the ejaculation scorn fierce and tempestuous as the 
 wind that fell at that moment upon the house scorn 
 out of all proportion to the innocent and kindly char- 
 acter of the interrogation. 
 
 Charity, listening in astonishment, and trying 
 vainly to distinguish the face of her companion, seen 
 vaguely as a somber silhouette, one with the sur- 
 rounding shadows, realized that the cry betrayed a 
 source of trouble of whose existence she had hitherto 
 been unaware. 
 
 190
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Why not? " she asked, raising her voice to make 
 herself audible, " I like him. I spoke to him that 
 day I golfed with Major Dale. He seemed " 
 She paused, racking her brain for something that 
 would redound to Toddie's credit, yet be not too 
 remote from the truth. The quest presented diffi- 
 culties, for the behavior of the scandalized Toddie 
 on that occasion lent itself to no pleasant recollec- 
 tions. 
 
 " Aha ! " cried Devina in gloomy triumph. " Ye 
 see ! ye can say nothin' for him." 
 
 " Major Dale said he was the best caddie in St. 
 Andrews." 
 
 A contemptuous snort. 
 
 " That 's something in his favor." 
 
 " Precious little. Ony eediot can carry a bag o' 
 clubs " She checked herself, then added with bit- 
 terness " Aye, drunk or sober." 
 
 " I asked him " continued Charity pleasantly, 
 " how he liked having tea with you." 
 
 There came no comment, though the hand holding 
 the curtain tightened. Charity continued : " He 
 seemed quite touched, for he gave Major Dale the 
 wrong club." She looked up at Devina, then added 
 with complacency : " I asked him to come in again." 
 
 " You you asked him to come in again * " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 191
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I was sorry for him." 
 
 " Ye might have saved yerself the trouble. If 
 that man comes to this house again never expect me 
 to give him his tea." 
 
 " But I thought it would please you you never 
 have visitors. I thought you liked him." 
 
 For a moment there came no answer; then out of 
 the darkness Devina's voice was heard, deep, troubled 
 the voice of one inexpert in self-analysis, strug- 
 gling to express the inarticulate. 
 
 " How can I how can any decent woman, like 
 a thing like yon? There was no talk o' likin'. It 
 was just a just a convenience. I never 
 thought . But there " She drew herself up. 
 " Ye canna touch pitch and escape defilement." 
 
 " Defilement? " 
 
 " Aye, defilement. Oh it 's easy seen, ma dearie, 
 you ken nothin' aboot men, and may the Lorrd keep 
 ye from the knowledge. Drunken, dirty, Sabbath- 
 breakin' so they are. I wouldna touch one o' them 
 with a broom handle, not one." 
 
 " But Toddie 's given up drinking." 
 
 Devina started. 
 
 " I say, he does n't drink any more. He refused 
 a drink the other day Major Dale tpld me so," 
 and Charity narrated the incident with an ardor of 
 championship that astonished even herself. 
 
 That the information took Devina completely by 
 192
 
 TODDIE 
 
 surprise was plainly observable. But, as she pon- 
 dered, an incredulous smile curled her lips : " He 
 must have been sick," she said contemptuously. 
 
 Having drawn the curtains and lighted the gas, 
 she remarked, one hand on the door: 
 
 " Now, I canna waste ma time. There 's that pet- 
 ticoat o' yours to mend." 
 
 " Well," said her mistress, " perhaps you 're right. 
 If Toddie is as bad as that " 
 
 " Bad? Who said he was bad? " 
 
 " You did." 
 
 " I said nothin' of the sort." 
 
 They faced each other under the light. 
 
 " Oh, Devina, you said he was dishonest and " 
 
 " Dishonest ! Me ! I never said the word. I 
 never questioned the man's honesty for a moment. 
 That would be the last straw. He 's got wickedness 
 withoot that. Dishonest! What next! Hoots, 
 Miss Charity, I 'm surprised at ye ! Would ye take 
 away the man's character? " 
 
 Charity turned away to hide a smile. 
 
 13
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE attack upon his own person and the ablu- 
 tion of Bob pledged Toddie to a course of con- 
 duct wider reaching by far than he had anticipated. 
 Like a stone flung into the water, his action spread 
 the waves of its consequences to the farthermost 
 limit of his belongings. From Bob to the kitchen 
 floor was an inevitable progression likewise from 
 his own face to his disreputable muffler. Cleanliness, 
 like an infectious disease, spreads rapidly. Each day 
 marked its progress. One article of furniture after 
 another fell a victim. Not only would you have 
 failed to recognize the room but the room would 
 have failed to recognize itself, so lustrous was it, 
 so rubbed and scrubbed by the full force of Toddie's 
 arm. 
 
 Many have been the great deeds, many the drastic 
 revolutions inspired by the memory of a woman's 
 eyes, but none, I dare swear, more worthy of record 
 than this spring-cleaning, not only of Toddie's house- 
 hold goods, but of his very existence. Like his 
 renunciation of whisky it was an offering laid on the 
 lowest step of Devina's shrine, laid humbly, peni- 
 
 194
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tentlj, with no hope of reward, no hope even of 
 recognition. She would never come again Tod- 
 die knew it, so what chance of her discovering that 
 all this had been done for her? None at all. Yet 
 Toddie persevered. Not for one moment did he hesi- 
 tate. He spared nothing. Scrubbing-brush in hand 
 he attacked the grandfather's clock with the same 
 stoical impartiality, the same stern ardor of self- 
 sacrifice with which he lathered the very shirt stripped 
 from his own protesting back. 
 
 He was only a common little caddie, plain to look 
 at: you, reader, would have passed him over had 
 you seen him with the crowd of his associates round 
 the shelter, and small blame to you, for there was 
 nothing to distinguish him from mortals of less 
 heroic soul it needed a Bob to discover that yet 
 within that breast, covered by the amazingly clean 
 shirt, the torch of chivalry blazed as brightly as in 
 the heart of a Bayard. 
 
 It is certain that he himself had not the slightest 
 conception of the significance of his actions. Once 
 embarked upon the course he had planned, he rarely 
 gave himself up to conscious thought. Thinking 
 was an awful business, not to be lightly undertaken 
 deeds were much more in Toddie's line. As for 
 self -analysis, he had never even heard of it, much less 
 had he ever put it into practice. But something 
 was undoubtedly at work within him. He felt it 
 
 195
 
 TODDIE 
 
 vaguely, glowingly, exultantly yet with awe. 
 Never before had he been so " warmed " nor must 
 this be attributed solely to the exercise. Though 
 he knew it not, it was the fire of self-denial, of self- 
 sacrifice, of devotion, of abnegation. Virtues that 
 have emblazoned the glorious pages of history ! 
 They have transfigured the pallid countenances of 
 saints, they have sustained the holy resolution of 
 martyrs and shall we then deny their presence in 
 the rubicund face of Toddie, because, forsooth, he 
 is only a caddie and lives in Logic's Lane? Most 
 assuredly not. 
 
 There were times, however, when our hero paused, 
 reaching as it were an oasis of contemplation in the 
 midst of a desert of unthinking impulse. At such 
 rare moments he would be seized with fresh amaze- 
 ment, not untinged with superstitious alarm the 
 alarm of a man confronted unexpectedly by an un- 
 familiar face in a mirror. 
 
 He Toddie doing this for a woman ! 
 
 Overcome with incredulity he would remain for 
 long motionless, on his knees, while the dust clouds 
 settled slowly. Then, with a jerk of his head and 
 an admonishing grunt he would strenuously resume 
 his task. 
 
 Between ourselves, during this period of storm 
 and stress Bob lived a dog's life. He was driven 
 from pillar to post. When the fireplace became un- 
 
 196
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tenable, he sought refuge beneath the bed when 
 the business end of the broom forced him to evacuate 
 that sanctuary, he slunk away, treading gingerly on 
 the wet floor and keeping as close as possible to the 
 wall, till he reached the recess where ticked the grand- 
 father's clock. There was just room for him be- 
 tAveen the case and the wall. From this asylum he 
 watched Toddie with smarting and reproachful eyes 
 
 restrained, however, from active demonstrations 
 by the memory of his one bath. 
 
 One night Toddie showed signs of more than usual 
 restlessness. He could not keep still. He got on 
 Bob's nerves. What sense was there in walking about 
 when you could roast yourself at a fire! Thank 
 heaven, there was nothing more that could be washed 
 
 that was some consolation. Bob it must be ex- 
 plained was feeling sore both physically and 
 mentally. He had concealed a favorite bone against 
 an unoccupied hour, but the broom had found it 
 out. To relieve his feelings Bob had promptly 
 sallied out of doors when Toddie's back was turned, 
 and catching sight of his pet aversion, an unneigh- 
 borly bull terrier, had forced a fight. There could 
 be but one termination. Bob had been dragged back 
 to his master still uttering yells of defiance, defeated 
 perhaps in body but undaunted in soul. 
 
 He was licking an honorable scar when his master 
 stopped before him. 
 
 197
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I wish I was you," said Toddie. 
 
 " All very well," thought Bob. 
 
 " I wish I could love a bone." 
 
 This was simply adding insult to injury! 
 
 " Puir beastie, that 's a nasty bite ye 've got, but 
 if it makes ye ony better to hear it I 'd change with 
 ye and welcome. What 's a bite or a few fleas com- 
 pared wi' a thirst like mine. No' that I 'm regrettin' 
 what I 've done, but ye '11 never ken what ma throat 's 
 like. This verra night I passed McPhee holdin' on to 
 the railin's sure as death the money itched in ma 
 pocket." 
 
 Bob settled himself to sleep. 
 
 To and fro, to and fro marched Toddie. Occa- 
 sionally he would mutter a broken sentence, or shake 
 a bewildered head. 
 
 " Dang it ! " he cried suddenly thumping the table 
 with his clenched fist, " it isna natural. Say what 
 ye like." 
 
 Bob said nothing. 
 
 " I '11 be losin' your respect next. This verra day 
 did I no* offer the Major his brassie on the puttin' 
 green. And then, me bein' sore flustered, and him 
 glarin', what must I do but step right back on to 
 the top of oor opponent's ball. ' Your hole,' says 
 the Major to him and gied me the one look. Man, 
 Bob, ye may thank God ye 're no' a caddie ! " 
 
 With a gesture that was almost passionate he 
 198
 
 TODDIE 
 
 crossed to the window. The night was fine. Above 
 the opposite roof he could see the stars. Still pur- 
 sued by restlessness, and scarcely aware of what he 
 did, he took his cap from its customary peg. 
 
 Bob rose to his feet. 
 
 "Na," said Toddie, "I'm just goin' to look at 
 the house. It would never do for you to come. Ye 
 ken weel enough ye canna hold yer tongue. Here, 
 lie doon an' sleep. I '11 tell ye all aboot it when I 
 come back." 
 
 With the unquestioning obedience that was his 
 creed, Bob curled himself once more on the warm 
 hearth-stone. 
 
 199
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE street was deserted, the links a mute and 
 mysterious obscurity. The winds were all 
 asleep. Only the stars and the sea were awake. 
 
 The stars and the sea ! The secrets of the world 
 written in silver the soul of the world expressed 
 in song. Stars and sea ! Potent magicians ! What 
 spells of insidious sentiment do ye not cast over all who 
 wander lonely in the night, gazing, listening, even 
 unconsciously, intent upon the memory of a woman ! 
 
 Alas, poor Toddie ! 
 
 He stood leaning against a friendly lamp-post, 
 staring fixedly at a basement window. The light 
 from behind it only shining faintly through red 
 curtains exaggerated the warmth of his complex- 
 ion. His were no enviable or even coherent sen- 
 sations. The light from the basement window held 
 him like a resolute eye. More it mesmerized him. 
 It represented Devina. Its red and angry glow was 
 strangely symbolical. Toddie quailed before it, yet 
 impotent to withdraw his gaze, continued to stare 
 helplessly, pitifully ; as though it were indeed Devina 
 and he was humbly beseeching forgiveness. 
 
 200
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Had it come to this after all these years in 
 spite of all his convictions all his prejudices? 
 Where was his boasted independence? Where the 
 self-sufficiency of his manhood? Gone. And in- 
 stead of a Toddie existing in a shining and valorous 
 isolation, like a lone star, we are forced to contem- 
 plate the spectacle of a Toddie helplessly revolving 
 round an obscured sun, reduced to the condition of 
 a mere satellite. 
 
 One consolation remains. He himself was not fully 
 aware of his downfall. Love, like a humane surgeon, 
 had dulled his sensibilities with the anesthetic of 
 mental vacuity. He was as one drugged. Or 
 a more appropriate simile as one intoxicated. 
 Whisky being denied him, love offered him herself 
 in a brimming draught ; and Toddie welcoming 
 anything that could be drunk Avith honor drained 
 it to the dregs. 
 
 He was still staring vacantly at the window, when 
 the sound of approaching footsteps caused him to 
 start. 
 
 Another man ! 
 
 As the newcomer moved slowly into the magic 
 circle of light cast upon the pavement by the neigh- 
 boring lamp, he was seen to pause, apparently lost 
 in contemplation the profound and brooding rev- 
 erie of a man who looks at a house, but sees a woman. 
 
 In spite of the cold, Toddie grew hot all over. 
 201
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The stranger struck him suddenly as an insufferable 
 parody of himself. But all at once indignation was 
 stabbed by a new emotion, keen as a sword-thrust 
 Jealousy. 
 
 The idea of a rival had never till that instant 
 crossed Toddie's mind. But now, planted by sus- 
 picion, it flourished and grew big. That the new- 
 comer had apparently mistaken the drawing-room for 
 Devina's bedroom was a mere topographical error. 
 Love is blind. That he should dare to stand there 
 at all was the fact that rankled. 
 
 Bristling with antagonism curiously similar to 
 Bob when he stalked a foe Toddie quitted the shel- 
 ter of his lamp-post and ominously approached his 
 man. 
 
 But before he could demand an apology, he halted 
 with a gulp of amazement, for there before him 
 -he beheld The Major. 
 
 202
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE recognition was mutual. 
 " I didna think to see you here, Major," 
 ejaculated Toddie, with the swift and immense relief 
 caused by the total annihilation of jealousy. 
 
 " Nor I you," exclaimed Dale, surprised into equal 
 frankness. 
 
 Having voiced the similarity of their sentiments, 
 both relapsed into silence. Toddie was the first to 
 break it. Clearing his throat, he spat nervously. 
 
 " I was oot," he began with feigned composure, 
 but twirling preternaturally clean fingers. " Just oot 
 takin' the air." 
 
 The Major cpnfessed to a similar motive. 
 
 The admission struck Toddie with wonder, which 
 suffered diminution when Dale volunteered the in- 
 formation that it was a fine night for the purpose. 
 
 " It is that," he assented, apparently with defer- 
 ential cordiality, but intuitively conscious that the 
 fineness of the night could not truthfully be held re- 
 sponsible. 
 
 With the dawn of a kindred emotion he noted his 
 employer's impassivity, translating it in his own 
 
 208
 
 TODDIE 
 
 hero-worshiping heart into a noble self-restraint that 
 masked the same delicate and incomprehensible emo- 
 tions as those which perplexed himself. 
 
 Touched as by an unexpected condescension he 
 felt awkward. He could think of nothing worthy 
 to be said. And little wonder. Converse with his 
 employer had as a rule been confined to the prac- 
 tical, the professional. " We play at half -past ten 
 to-morrow," or "Take out the flag," or "Tod- 
 die, call ' fore ' ; " responded to invariably by a cheer- 
 ful "Aye, sir," or "I'll dae that, Major," 
 though undoubtedly pleasant, was no practice for an 
 exchange of ideas of necessity so delicate as those be- 
 fitting the present. 
 
 Toddie felt this. It was as though he had sud- 
 denly been requested to perform on the flute an 
 instrument, as all the world knew well peculiarly 
 sacred to the Major. And even as times without 
 number he had stood patiently waiting by Dale's 
 side on the links, motionless, anticipatory, until that 
 thoughtful but somewhat slow golfer could make up 
 his mind to play ; so now, standing by his side in the 
 yellow lamp-light, he waited with equal patience for 
 him to speak. 
 
 " What were you doing here ? " asked his em- 
 ployer. 
 
 " Me? " stammered Toddie, abruptly forced to take 
 204
 
 cognizance of his actions. " I was just I was just 
 lookin' at yon window." 
 
 "Which window?" 
 
 Toddie stared. To his mind there was but one 
 window worthy of consideration in the whole house. 
 
 " Yon red one, doon there." 
 
 Requested to state his reasons for this eccentric 
 behavior, Toddie shuffled uneasily from one foot to 
 the other. 
 
 " Weel," he said cautiously, " I canna exactly 
 tell ye. It 's no' for the likes o' me to put it into 
 words for the likes o' you. Na, na, I ken ma place, 
 Major. I ken ma place." 
 
 The deprecatory tone in which this assertion was 
 made appeared to rouse his employer's curiosity, for 
 Dale, looking down at his caddie with some astonish- 
 ment, again demanded an explanation. 
 
 Toddie scratched his head. 
 
 " I wish I could tell ye," he said with much simple 
 earnestness, " but I canna even tell maself. There 's 
 no doubt I 'm queer. Queer, aye, an' I never sus- 
 pected it!" 
 
 He broke off with an ominous shake of the head; 
 then, venturing an upward look into his companion's 
 face and emboldened by Dale's silent attention, as 
 well as by the semi-darkness, he continued: 
 
 " I believe what I was minded to say was this. 
 205
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Ye see, it 's no use ma tellin' you even if I could. 
 For why ? You 're a Club member, an' I 'm naethin' 
 but a caddie. Oh, I ken fine it 's just your kindness, 
 wishin' to give me the chance to talk. That 's you, 
 Major, all over. But you, with all your book-learnin' 
 an' what not, kens far better nor me why I was 
 lookin' at that window." 
 
 He was interrupted by a gesture of negation. 
 
 " Hoots, Maj or 1 " Toddie's voice was full of a 
 smiling and respectful protest " Were you no' 
 lookin' at a window yerself ? " 
 
 There came no answer. Toddie, struck with 
 alarm lest he should have offended, was mightily re- 
 lieved to hear the Major's voice proposing a walk. 
 In a tremor of gratitude and pride he lurched away 
 beside his master; his heart divided between reluct- 
 ance to leave the house without having seen Devina, 
 and the ardent wish for broad day and a congested 
 links, so that all St. Andrews might behold and 
 envy. 
 
 The strangely-assorted companions traversed in 
 silence the stretch of links that lay between the Fords' 
 house and the sea ; and having crossed a little bridge, 
 found themselves upon a path which called upon them 
 to decide whether they would keep to the landward 
 of the dunes or trust themselves to the sands. 
 
 Dale suggested the latter. 
 
 Toddie assented. And truth to tell, had the Major 
 206
 
 TODDIE 
 
 proposed a bath in the burn, he would have accepted 
 with a like hearty and approving acquiescence. 
 
 Once away from the reign of lamp-light, it was by 
 no means plain sailing, for the stars were incon- 
 veniently distant, and there was an entire absence 
 of moon. Not once but many times did Toddie 
 stumble over the rubbish heaps with which an en- 
 lightened Town Council had decorated the approach 
 to the beach. 
 
 Upon a less auspicious occasion he would have be- 
 wailed the injury inflicted upon the Major's boots; 
 but now, blissfully unconscious of damaged leather, 
 he drove his little legs to their utmost speed in his 
 efforts to keep pace with the lengthy stride of his 
 employer. 
 
 A faint breeze fanned them, pleasantly saline, whis- 
 pering of shells and weed, wrack and tangle, of all 
 the discarded playthings of the inconstant sea. 
 
 At that hour master and man had the sands all to 
 themselves. Behind them St. Andrews twinkled, far 
 off, like a small and isolated galaxy of stars. Before 
 them the beach receded into blue and mysterious 
 depths, cheating the eye, hunted by the sound of 
 waves. And even, as they walked, the night accom- 
 panied them, passed into their blood; and insensibly 
 attuning them to tender reverie, suggested emotions 
 that would have fled the light of day. 
 
 It became evident to Toddie that his companion 
 207
 
 TODDIE 
 
 was thinking deeply. Nothing else, he felt convinced, 
 could satisfactorily account for the abstracted and 
 scholarly droop of that head for those hands 
 plunged so profoundly into the trousers pockets. 
 His own attitude, be it noted, was precisely similar. 
 But that was mere subconscious imitation, which, had 
 it been pointed out to him, he would have sternly con- 
 demned as presumption. 
 
 For nothing in the world would Toddie have been 
 guilty of the crime of interruption. To be privileged 
 to walk by the side of one so learned walk, mark 
 you, as a companion, and by no means as the inev- 
 itable accompaniment of a golf -bag was a sort 
 of impossible dream, a delightful illusion of equality 
 which modesty repudiated, but affection embraced. 
 He had no wish to talk. To be permitted to share 
 the Major's silence was in itself a sufficient and most 
 bewildering honor. 
 
 " Toddie," said Dale all at once, " I 've been think- 
 
 ing." 
 
 " I made certain o' it," cried Toddie, with respect- 
 ful admiration. 
 
 " Keep quiet," said his employer testily. Then, 
 after a pause and with the air of one who ponders 
 every word : " I 've been thinking that it is n't 
 natural for a man to live alone." 
 
 Toddie's mouth opened to its widest. 
 
 " What 's your opinion? " encouraged his master. 
 208
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie drew a deep breath. Elevated thus unex- 
 pectedly to the dizzy post of adviser, he became 
 nervous. 
 
 " Well? " said Dale. 
 
 " Weel," repeated Toddie, and hesitated " It 's 
 no' for the likes o' me " 
 
 " Come. Out with it." 
 
 "Weel, Major since ye ask me what you 
 need is a dog." 
 
 The Major stared. 
 
 " Aye, just that," cried Toddie, warming. 
 " There 's naethin' to beat a dog at the comfortin'. 
 The thoughtf ulness o' him ! When ye 're wet he dries 
 ye, and when ye 're dry he wets ye. Hoots, I couldna 
 get on at all withoot Bob. I tell ye, Major, to hear 
 the wee besom yowlin', clean daft wi' joy in the 
 kitchen, as soon as ever he hears ma step, is just is 
 just weel, it's better nor a drink." 
 
 Upon the tremendous simile he broke off. Then, 
 as his companion seemed totally at a loss for words, 
 he continued more calmly, yet with great earnest- 
 ness: 
 
 " I 've often bothered aboot ye, Major. No of- 
 fense, sir, I hope. Oh, I ken weel it 's no' ma place, 
 nor hers eether, but we just couldna help it. I 
 wouldna cared to speak at all, had ye no' sae kindly 
 given me permeesion. I ken weel enough what ye 're 
 feelin', for lately I 've felt bothered maself. It 's bein' 
 14 209
 
 TODDIE 
 
 a bachelor does it. It doesna matter for the likes o' 
 me, but you, you 're in the right aboot yerself . It isna 
 natural for you to live alone. A flute is all verra 
 weel in its own way ; it speaks to ye, I ken that, but 
 it canna jump on yer knees an' lick yer face." 
 
 This startling idea seemed to deprive the Major 
 of speech ; for his pace relaxed, and he stared down- 
 wards with a humorous and growing amazement into 
 the face of his caddie. 
 
 " Very kind of you, Toddie," he said at length, 
 controlling a desire to laugh, " but I was n't think- 
 ing of myself." 
 
 Toddie peered up through the night at his em- 
 ployer. The memory of the drawing-room window 
 caused a lenient and incredulous smile to twist his 
 lips. 
 
 " I was thinking of you" said Dale. 
 
 No response. 
 
 "You ought to marry," continued the Major. 
 
 " Mel Me marry? " 
 
 " Why not? You are not too old. How old are 
 you?" " 
 
 " The same age as yerself, wantin' thirteen days," 
 said Toddie promptly. 
 
 " Well " continued Dale, somewhat taken aback, 
 " well, it 's it 's a. sensible age. But you must n't 
 lose time. Have you ever thought about it? " 
 
 210
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Never." This with tremendous emphasis. 
 
 " Marriage would suit you very well," went on the 
 tempter's voice in the darkness. " To have some one 
 to take care of you, and and pour out the tea, 
 and and all that sort of thing, eh? " 
 
 The last words were uttered somewhat doubtfully 
 more to himself than to Toddie, who was waiting 
 anxiously for further developments. 
 
 " You 'd make a decent husband," mused the Ma- 
 jor, not without hesitation. 
 
 Toddie tried to thank him, but failed. 
 
 " You 're fairly steady. I have n't seen you drunk 
 lately. How's that?" 
 
 Toddie was heard to mutter, but the voice of the 
 sea considerately drowned the explanation. 
 
 " Well, that 's a good thing anyway," approved 
 the Major. 
 
 He paused, as though at a loss how best to continue ; 
 then, when they had walked some dozen yards in si- 
 lence, he said abruptly: 
 
 " You ought to ask her soon." 
 
 The two men came to a standstill. Their figures, 
 dark and mysterious even to each other, loomed dimly, 
 as though they were component parts of the be- 
 nighted sands, the starlit sky, the invisible and re- 
 sounding sea. 
 
 Feelings of amazement surged up in Toddie's breast. 
 211
 
 TODDIE 
 
 This from the Major from the man whom he had 
 schemed to save! He could not believe his ears. It 
 was all his kindness, no doubt but 
 
 " Well? " encouraged Dale, inwardly pleased at 
 his success. " Well, will you do it? " 
 
 Toddie came to a standstill. 
 
 " See here, Major, what makes ye talk like that? " 
 he asked anxiously. " Ye 're no' f eelin' sick, are 
 ye?" 
 
 Dale was understood to remark that he never felt 
 better. 
 
 " Umph ! " grunted Toddie, much relieved, then 
 in explanation : " Folk get awful daft-like notions 
 when they 're sick. I once kent a man Jock Mac- 
 pherson it was who said he couldna bear the smell 
 o' whusky. They got the meenister to him, and in 
 less than a week he was as drunk as ever. It was a 
 grand recovery. Now, sir, if it 's no' a liberty, what 
 makes ye bother yerself aboot me marryin'? " 
 
 For once the Major was at a loss for words. How 
 could he explain, what was after all scarcely intelligi- 
 ble to himself, the incomprehensible desire of those 
 who contemplate matrimony to see others following 
 in their footsteps? 
 
 His silence filled Toddie with alarm. 
 
 " Here ! " he spluttered, with a sudden gesticula- 
 tion, " it 's no' for the likes what I was minded 
 Ma God, Major, I canna put it into words." 
 
 212
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " No need," said Dale, unaccountably obstinate. 
 " Just do it." 
 
 " But there is need an' I darena do it. You 
 ken me, Major. Have I no' carried for ye for years? 
 I 'm like yerself. Women are not for us. Oh, dinna 
 think I '11 be settin' maself up alongside the likes o' 
 you. The Lorrd forbid! But we're bachelors, 
 are we no', sir? " 
 
 Toddie spoke wistfully, staring with pathetic de- 
 sire for confirmation into the face of his employer. 
 
 " Y-es," assented Dale, seeing that he was expected 
 to speak, " But what " 
 
 " Weel," interrupted Toddie, " that 's it. That 's 
 what I would be at. It 's the Lorrd's Will. Them 
 that 's born bachelors must live bachelors and die 
 bachelors. Aye, it 's safer. Mind ye, it 's you I 'm 
 thinkin' of, Major. I fear for ye. Not a princess 
 in the land but would just jump at ye. It 's an 
 awful poseetion." 
 
 His companion smiled involuntarily. But it was 
 no smiling matter for Toddie. Even while he 
 pleaded, he was distressingly conscious of insincerity. 
 The arguments he summoned to his aid were but the 
 echoes of deceased convictions. They fell lamely 
 from his lips. Even as he uttered them he thought 
 of Devina and judged himself a traitor. 
 
 They resumed their walk, neither venturing to 
 break the silence. The darkness and the solitude of 
 
 213
 
 TODDIE 
 
 their surroundings, the sense of infinitude, the voice 
 of the sea, all had conspired to work a miracle. For 
 the time being the two men ceased to be caddie and 
 employer. They became but two human beings con- 
 fronted by the profound and eventful mysteries of 
 life. 
 
 Toddie was the first to speak. 
 
 " See yon," he said, and pointed to the east where 
 a faint lighting in fleecy clouds gave silver promise 
 of a moon. " That 's how I feel. No' what ye 
 would call clear, but just glimmerin'. It 's you 
 that 's done it, Major. I 'm seein' things I never 
 thought of before. Nae doot I was selfish. I wanted 
 to keep ye like you was. I never thought of the 
 loneliness. We 're all alike in oor hearts, whether 
 we put up at an hotel or live in Logie's Lane." 
 
 Dale listened in silence, secretly wondering. 
 
 " Aye," continued Toddie, " have I no' fought 
 again' it maself ? Whiles it grips ye, so it does. To 
 see the wee bairns playin' theirselves in the street 
 what 's a bachelor to do wi' that ? An' when ye 
 come hame of a night just dead beat an' naebody 
 carin'. Oh, I wouldna mention it to Bob. He thinks 
 he 's everything to me. But I canna help f eelin' it 
 all the same." 
 
 He sighed heavily. His discouragement moved 
 his companion who would have spoken, but Toddie 
 interrupted : 
 
 214
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Na, dinna fash yerself aboot me. It 's too late. 
 I 'm done for. But you there 's time yet. I 've 
 been deceivin' ye ; I 've been deceivin' maself , too. I 
 didna mean a word o' what I said. That 's all over. 
 Ask her, sir, ask her. Nae doot she 's just waitin' 
 to be asked Herd says they 're all alike. And, 
 puir lassie, it 's easy seen she dotes on ye." 
 
 This altogether unexpected turning of the tables 
 brought Dale again to a standstill. Toddie too came 
 to a halt. For a while the master eyed the caddie 
 in an amazed and ominous silence. The latter, 
 alarmed at his boldness and fearful of results, watched 
 him nervously. 
 
 " We 'd better be going back," said Dale abruptly. 
 The tone of his voice caused Toddie to breathe again. 
 They retraced their steps in a silence that was preg- 
 nant of import. 
 
 Not till the parting of their ways did the Major 
 speak again. 
 
 " Ten fifteen to-morrow," he said quietly. 
 
 " Aye, sir," responded Toddie with alacrity. 
 " I '11 be there." 
 
 215
 
 CHAPTER XXHI 
 
 ONE night, and while Toddie was still in a state 
 of hopeless despondency, he was cheered bj 
 another visit from Tarn. 
 
 Thomas Macintyre always opened a door as 
 though he were convinced that his deadliest enemy 
 were lurking with hostile intent upon the other side. 
 Hence both Toddie and Bob became aware of the 
 identity of their visitor long before his white and 
 anxious face made its appearance. 
 
 " Come in," encouraged Toddie, " ye 're worse nor 
 a draft" 
 
 Nor was this comment without excuse, for the 
 wind entered with the old man, and, causing the lamp 
 to flicker, sent tremulous lights and shadows in pur- 
 suit of each other over the well-scrubbed furniture 
 and the whitewashed walls. From without came an 
 impression of elemental tumult carried on in the dimly 
 lighted streets of night encamping in the plains 
 of darkness to the wild bugles of the wind, and the 
 deep and muffled roll-call of the sea. When Tarn, 
 moving with extreme caution, slowly closed the door, 
 peace fell suddenly. 
 
 216
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Take a seat," invited Toddie. 
 
 But Tarn remained standing. His eyes, gradually 
 accustoming themselves to the light, gazed around 
 them in amazement. 
 
 " Weel," said Toddie, " what 's wrong with ye? " 
 
 " Naething," muttered Tarn, still staring : then 
 with apologetic hesitation, " it 's it 's yer kitchen. 
 It 's no' like the same place." 
 
 Toddie glanced sheepishly at his belonging^. 
 
 " And you ; continued Tarn, inspecting his 
 host's face with a steadily growing astonishment, 
 "you're different. And Bob? What ails the 
 beastie ? " 
 
 "Hoots! He's fine," growled Toddie. "Ye 
 see, Tarn, ye canna be expected to understand Bob's 
 f eelin's he 's had a bath." 
 
 " A what ? " 
 
 Toddie repeated the statement. Tarn's eyes 
 opened to their widest. For some time he scrutinized 
 Bob with silent amazement, then turned to his host. 
 
 " Have you had a bath, too ? " he asked with the 
 utmost incredulity. 
 
 Toddie muttered an abashed affirmative ; but at the 
 next moment burst out with: 
 
 " Ye needna stand there sniggerin', Tammas 
 Macintyre. What does the Lorrd tell us? Says He 
 nae doot to His disciples * Cleanliness is next to 
 Godliness.' Aye, them 's His verra words ; an* isna 
 
 217
 
 TODDIE 
 
 it better to have one o' them like me an' Bob, than 
 neether o' them like you ? " 
 
 Tarn sobered suddenly. 
 
 " Dinna say that, Toddie." 
 
 " Weel, weel, I didna mean to hurt yer feelin's, 
 Tarn ; I ken you go to the Kirk, but somehow or ither 
 I never can think of ye as releegious." 
 
 " I keep it to maself," quavered Tam, seating him- 
 self with dignity. 
 
 " Ye do that," agreed Toddie with conviction. 
 
 Relations being somewhat strained, host and guest 
 stared in moody silence at the fire. In the chimney 
 the wind was heard to rave ceaselessly. 
 
 All at once, Bob who had been glancing with a 
 puzzled expression from one friend to the other, rose 
 to his paws, and after sniffing with deep interest at 
 Tarn's boots, suddenly licked his hand. 
 
 " There," blurted Toddie with much feeling, " see 
 that?" 
 
 " Eh? " ejaculated Tam, looking up ; " see what? " 
 
 " That " pointing with admiration at Bob, 
 " that 's him all over. He 's settin' me an example." 
 
 " But but you wouldna lick ma hand, would 
 
 ye?" 
 
 " Oh, man, ye 're awful slow at the up-take ! It 's 
 the kindness o' him, I mean : the the forgiveness. 
 He sees ye 're in the wrong, but he canna forget 
 ye 're in his house." 
 
 218
 
 TODDIE 
 
 For a moment Tarn stared with a half-resentful, 
 half-superstitious amazement at the peacemaker, then, 
 suddenly doubling upon himself, began to cough. 
 The fit was long-enduring. It was moreover aggra- 
 vated by sundry well-meaning thumps administered 
 by Toddie. 
 
 " Stop ! That '11 do ! " gasped the sufferer when 
 he could speak. " No need to bash me like that. I 
 havena swallowed onything. I havena had the 
 chance," he added with melancholy insinuation. 
 
 " That 's an awful cough o' yours," commented 
 Toddie. 
 
 " Aye, I fear I 'm no' long for this world." 
 
 " You should see a doctor, Tarn." 
 
 " Na, not me. I 'm awful loath to undergo a doc- 
 tor. I mind once doctor Brodie gave ma Jean a 
 pill to take next her stomach at night. Ma word! 
 We both kept wishin' he had taken it hisself. Na, 
 na, I '11 just slip awa' withoot bein' bothered." 
 
 " Weel," sympathized his friend, inspecting him 
 with interest, " maybe ye 're right. Ye 're an auld 
 man, and bald. We must all follow oor hair, Tarn. 
 It leads the way. When it goes, it 's time to shift." 
 
 " Hoots, no ! Mony a young man is bald." 
 
 " Mair shame to him." 
 
 " And then, there 's bairns they all begins bald." 
 
 " That 's a fact. It doesna seem natural. There 
 is a mony queer things in life,. Tarn. Bob and me 
 
 219
 
 TODDIE 
 
 thinks a loot aboot it when we 're no' bothered by 
 veesitors. Ye should hear the beastie whimperin' in 
 his sleep. He 's just puzzlin' it oot. Aye, life 's a 
 queer thing. I whiles think it 's like waitin' on the 
 first tee withoot a number. Ye just dawdle aboot, 
 and crack with yer friends; and then, all at once, 
 when ye 're least expectin' it, ye 're name 's called." 
 
 " Maybe," said Tarn doubtfully, " maybe, but as 
 you was sayin' I 'm an auld man, and I dinna want 
 to start the carryin' again. I 've had enough o' it." 
 
 " Never fear. That 's anither thing I 've found 
 oot. Ye see, ye '11 feel different when ye 're dead. 
 The Lorrd wull see to that. Ye 're like an auld golf- 
 ball, Tarn. He '11 just remake ye. Nae doot ye '11 
 fly straight when ye 're an angel. Oh, aye ! " 
 
 This blend of professional and angelic fancy 
 caused Tarn to gaze anxiously into Toddie's face, 
 but his host, serious and thoughtful, was frowning 
 at the fire. 
 
 " Will ye no' take something? " asked Toddie, 
 suddenly awaking to the exigencies of hospitality. 
 
 Tarn brightened. 
 
 " A drink ? " suggested Toddie, not without hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 Tarn brightened still more. 
 
 "A cup o' tea?" 
 
 The light faded from Tarn's eyes. He shook his 
 220
 
 TODDIE 
 
 head, but the point of his tongue was seen to pass 
 wistfully across his lips. 
 
 " Ye '11 get none here," blurted Toddie, shoving 
 back his chair, and speaking with great energy. 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 Toddie opened his mouth to explain; but under 
 the influence of a second thought, closed it again. 
 
 " That 'ull no' be a bottle I see there ? " inquired 
 his guest, in the tone of one reluctant to doubt the 
 evidence of his senses. 
 
 " Aye," said Toddie dryly. 
 
 " Weel then " 
 
 "It's empty." 
 
 "Aw!" 
 
 " I emptied it maself . It was the ither night 
 after you left." 
 
 " I havena a doubt o' that," murmured Tarn with 
 envy. 
 
 " No' the way you 're thinkin'," continued Toddie 
 gloomily. He frowned heavily at his boots, then 
 added, " I emptied it into the grate." 
 
 This information was the last straw. Tarn, in- 
 credulous, apprehensive, more than half inclined to 
 disbelieve his ears, stared at Toddie ; who, in his turn, 
 gazed mournfully, yet not without austere self -ap- 
 proval at the lucky grate. 
 
 " Were ye drunk ? " whispered Tarn. 
 221
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie sighed. " No," he said wistfully. " Not 
 whit you would call drunk, but just 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " But that wasna the reason," cried Toddie, hastily 
 flinging out a hand. 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " No, Tarn, that wasna the reason." 
 
 He paused, shook his head, then again sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 " Yes ? " suggested the old man. 
 
 " It was ," murmured Toddie softly, still gazing 
 at the fire, and more than half unconscious of an 
 auditor, " it was for her sake." 
 
 " For her sake? " ejaculated Tarn loudly. 
 
 Toddie jumped; and flushing to his very ears, re- 
 quested his guest to mind his own business. 
 
 222
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 TEA, black, strong, and substantially assisted by 
 bread and cheese, at length succeeded in restor- 
 ing harmony. Having got the better of his disap- 
 pointment, Tarn applied himself philosophically to 
 the meal with an avidity almost as intense as though 
 its component parts were by nature purely alcoholic. 
 Bob and Toddie watched his exertions, the former 
 with tremulous interest, the latter with envy. 
 
 It would have puzzled Tarn had he been requested 
 to trace the associations of ideas that again led the 
 conversation to women. It seemed to him later, how- 
 ever, that his every remark appeared, from the con- 
 struction put upon it by his host, to be a distinct 
 allusion to the hitherto forbidden sex. Thus, when 
 he mumbled praises of Toddie's tea, he learned to 
 his amazement that the beverage to be properly ap- 
 preciated ought to be poured out by a woman not 
 just any woman, the Lord forbid, but one who, he 
 was sternly warned, must forever remain nameless. 
 
 This, in addition to similar pieces of information, 
 was volunteered in a manner so mournful and mys- 
 terious, so fraught with hidden meaning, and was 
 
 223
 
 TODDIE 
 
 accompanied moreover with such sudden and for- 
 bidding frowns, such deep and inexplicable sighs, 
 that as the meal progressed Tarn became more and 
 more a victim to bewilderment. 
 
 " To see me settin' here, drinkin' ma own tea, 
 you would say I was happy? " demanded Toddie 
 abruptly. 
 
 Tarn his mouth full made various noises in- 
 tended to express his hope that such was the case. 
 The pitying and scornful smile with which these were 
 received added considerably to his apprehension. 
 
 " I havena the heart to eat," growled his host. 
 " I dinna seem to care what I swallow. Folk just 
 bother me. The ither day I ate Bob's dinner by 
 mistake, so I did. I 'm aye thinkin' o' something 
 else. Was I pleased to see you the noo? Weel, 
 you 're wrong. Oh, ye might have thought it by 
 what I said I grant ye that, but that meant nothin' 
 I was just makin' maself pleasant." 
 
 Tarn was understood to mumble that he approved 
 of the effort. But Toddie shook his head, and con- 
 tinued absent mindedly to count the remaining lumps 
 of sugar. 
 
 " You 're a widower? " he mused, transfixing Tarn 
 with melancholy eyes. 
 
 Tarn assented with indifference. 
 
 " Man ! " blurted his host, " I wonder ye can eat." 
 
 Much alarmed, Tarn suspended operations ; but
 
 TODDIE 
 
 finding that Toddie had again forgotten him, he fur- 
 tively continued the meal. 
 
 " What like was she? " questioned Toddie, after a 
 long pause. 
 
 "What like? Aw" Tarn scratched his head. 
 " She was just like ony ither woman." 
 
 " Nonsense. Is Div I mean is Bob like ony 
 ither dog? Is the Major like ony ither man? Was 
 she wee or big? Answer me that." 
 
 After reflection Tarn thought she might safely be 
 described as " wee." Pressed further, he with much 
 hesitation put her down as " fair." 
 
 " An' ye married a woman like that ! " exclaimed 
 his host in tones of the utmost commiseration. 
 
 Time and the links had so effectually dulled Tarn's 
 sensibilities that he did not resent this aspersion upon 
 his matrimonial taste. Toddie was queer queerer 
 than ever. What of it ? He Tarn was no 
 longer hungry or cold. Puffing with tremulous sat- 
 isfaction at a borrowed pipe, he congratulated him- 
 self that he was saving his own tobacco. 
 
 The wind, howling without, but emphasized the 
 cosiness of the little kitchen, warmly illuminated by 
 the lamp and the leaping flames of the good coal 
 fire. The old man had no wish to talk, still less did 
 he desire to quarrel. Sunk into a state of bodily 
 well-being he forgot decrepitude, poverty, anxiety 
 forgot his cheerless home, the weary treadmill of the 
 15 225
 
 TODDIE 
 
 links, the short and desolate span of life still allotted 
 to him forgot even the days, now gone forever, 
 when he too had known strength, and hope, and love. 
 With his head bent forward and the firelight playing 
 over the deep furrows of his weather-beaten counte- 
 nance he gave himself up to the realization of an 
 unusually comfortable present. 
 
 Toddie looked at him. Something in his guest's 
 appearance caused the little caddie's heart to expand 
 with the pity and the pleasure it would have felt had 
 Tarn been a stray dog. Yet so unprepossessing did 
 the old man appear that Toddie to whom speaking 
 was but audible thinking blurted incredulously 
 
 " Ye mean to tell me she loved ye ? " 
 
 " Eh? " said Tarn, blinking. " What 's that ye 're 
 sayin'?" 
 
 " Yer wife. Did she love ye ? " 
 
 " Aye, did she." He drew himself up his voice 
 seemed to find a long-forgotten note of self-assurance. 
 " She was awful fond o' me, Toddie. I mind sittin' 
 like this at the fire and never thinkin' o' her, an' her 
 comin' behind an* strokin' ma hair. She was a fine 
 cook. I never taste a haggis withoot thinkin' o' her. 
 We was one flesh, ye may say." 
 
 Toddie leaning forward, his hands on his knees, 
 listened eagerly. 
 
 " Aye," continued Tarn, spitting into the fire and 
 visibly flattered by his host's attention. " She was
 
 TODDIE 
 
 real bonnie once. Mony a lad was after her. There 
 was Jock Simpson. Ye mind him? No? Weel, 
 he 's been in the kirkyard this forty year. And 
 Willie Herd, and Alec Gow, all braw lads. But she 
 liked me best. She was aye particular." 
 
 He made a movement as though to adjust his col- 
 lar, but finding none, meandered on: 
 
 " I couldna bring maself to say the word " 
 
 " I can understand that," interrupted the listener 
 with sympathy. 
 
 " Can ye ? Aye, it grips ye. Ye feel dry. It 's 
 worse nor wantin' a drink. Weel, Toddie, one day 
 me and her was on the rocks. I mind she was lookin' 
 at the sea. Thinks I * She 's forgotten me.' 
 Hoots, I was young and easy took in." He smiled 
 knowingly. 
 
 " Go on," said Toddie. 
 
 " Weel, I mind tryin' to speak, but, as I was sayin', 
 the words wouldna come. Then what think ye? " 
 
 He paused and looked up with a sly twinkle into 
 the serious and deeply interested face of his host. 
 
 " I found a piece o' chalk." 
 
 " A piece o' chalk ? " repeated Toddie, mystified. 
 
 " Just that. Ye see, there was a black rock at ma 
 feet, so I writes on it : ' Will ye have me ? ' ' What 's 
 that? ' says she. Women are aye curious, Toddie, 
 they canna help " 
 
 " Go on wi' yer story, man." 
 227
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Aye, aye, but dinna fluster me. Weel, I put the 
 chalk doon and looks away. Ma heart was like to 
 choke me. ' What will she say? ' thinks I. But she 
 said nothin'." 
 
 " She said nothin', Tarn ? " Toddie's voice be- 
 trayed unaccountable disappointment. 
 
 " Na ! but bide a wee. There 's more to come." 
 The old man chuckled in smiling reminiscence, rub- 
 bing his claw-like hands up and down the legs of his 
 trousers ; then sobering : 
 
 " I confess to ye I was nervous. I could hear her 
 moving, but darena look round. After a wee whiley 
 I keeked at her. She was standin' verra straight 
 and still, wi' her back turned, but on the rock just be- 
 low what I 'd written was the one word, * Yes.' Ma 
 God ! Toddie, I '11 I '11 never forget it." 
 
 Toddie stared at him. All at once he seemed to see 
 his guest in a new light. Then he said slowly : 
 
 " I never thought it could be done like that." 
 
 " D' ye never read yer Citizen? " asked Tarn with 
 mild superiority. 
 
 " Whiles. No' verra often." 
 
 " Weel, ye should. There was a bonnie story all 
 aboot it no' sae lang syne. But ye 're no' listenin' ? " 
 
 " D' ye think gentlemen like club members, I 
 mean asks leddies that way ? " 
 
 " Of course they does," assured Tarn with great 
 energy. " Was he no' a duke in the story ? You 
 
 228
 
 TODDIE 
 
 should ha' read it, Toddie. His letter to her was 
 amazin' just amazin'. I didna think there was so 
 mony fine words in the language. And clever ! 
 See here, it was that clever I didna understand half 
 o' it." 
 
 229
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE rupture with Toddle had results more un- 
 expected and disconcerting than Devina had an- 
 ticipated. It cast a shadow over her life. For the 
 time being it even warped her character. It filled her, 
 even as it did him, with indefinable melancholy. Not 
 that she allowed this incomprehensible heart-sickness 
 to interfere with the discharge of her duties. On the 
 contrary, it goaded her into a fever of activity. La- 
 bor dulled the ache, made her forget the emptiness. 
 She found in it, if not an antidote, at least an outlet. 
 Never before had she been so dour, so inexorable, so 
 despotic. Never before had she been so full of en- 
 ergy, so strenuous, so unsparing of herself or of 
 others. Work negligently performed was to her what 
 the red rag is to the bull. It stirred her to anger. 
 It caused her to explode into fierce reproofs, into bit- 
 ter sarcasm for which, be it whispered, she re- 
 proached herself the moment they were uttered. She 
 would fling herself into the breach in a fury of zeal, 
 and, even while engaged in making good the defection, 
 would lash the shirker with the full force of her in- 
 temperate tongue. 
 
 230
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Jessie was the principal sufferer during those evil 
 days. Many times did that volatile damsel, dissolved 
 into tears, fly to the cook for sympathy and support, 
 and the two women taking counsel together, would 
 plan petty retaliations with which to harass the 
 tyrant. Their efforts met with the failure they mer- 
 ited. They fell harmlessly to the ground, blunted 
 against the armor of Devina's profound and con- 
 temptuous indifference. 
 
 Had her companions but known how near Devina 
 herself was oftentimes to the tears she so unsparingly 
 ridiculed, it is probable that in their amazement they 
 would have left her alone. But they were never to 
 know it. 
 
 Another apparently unaccountable result of the 
 break was that Devina wavered in her self-imposed 
 task of guarding her young mistress. The exact 
 reason is not easy to find. It may have been either 
 that her own dawning partiality for one of the op- 
 posite sex was to a certain extent responsible, or that 
 deprived of Toddie's assistance she lost heart. Dimly 
 she herself surmised the latter. It inflamed her to 
 fresh wrath. That that which she had so near to her 
 heart should be thwarted by the delinquency of a 
 man was a state of affairs not to be countenanced for 
 a moment. Grimly, obstinately, she strove to carry 
 on the combat single-handed. But the effort was be- 
 yond her. The strange apathy from which she suf-
 
 TODDIE 
 
 fered, and for which she was at a loss to account, 
 paralyzed her efforts. The persistency of the Major 
 and the gay, unconscious, and innocent opposition of 
 Charity foiled her at every point. 
 
 Yet, all unawares within her breast, the seed sown 
 by Charity was slowly taking root. The change came 
 gradually, imperceptibly, with unforeseen rallies and 
 relapses, like the capricious transitions of winter pass- 
 ing into spring. 
 
 Had she, after all, judged the man too harshly? 
 Had she made allowance sufficient for his upbringing, 
 his irregular life, his vicious companions? 
 
 Brooding over his memory with a newly awakened 
 and wholly involuntary leniency, much that was 
 praiseworthy leapt unbidden to her mind his sim- 
 plicity, honesty, loyalty. 
 
 Fain would she have discredited their existence so 
 loath was she to admit that aught good was to be 
 found in man but they would not be denied. They 
 returned to her with the recollection of his every look, 
 his every spoken word. With a sense of justice, as 
 strong as it was impartial, she placed them all to his 
 credit. As she realized them, instinctively and with 
 a vague reluctant feeling of satisfaction, she discov- 
 ered that whatever his faults, yes, even despite his un- 
 substantiated claim of sobriety, he could be trusted. 
 This was a great concession, an immense advance, for 
 when a woman decides that a man is trustworthy and 
 
 232
 
 TODDIE 
 
 experiences sensible pleasure thereat, it is because she 
 has already, consciously or unconsciously, confided 
 something to his keeping. 
 
 No suspicion of sentiment shed the rose-light of 
 dawning romance around the broken friendship. As 
 far as Devina was aware, her thoughts of Toddie were 
 purely practical. Up to the fatal moment when she 
 had discovered his backsliding, she persuaded herself 
 that he had been only a coadjutor, an unpalatable 
 but necessary part of the concocted plan. Now he 
 represented a failure, a disappointment. That was 
 all at least all she would confess to herself. 
 
 This obstinate self-deception was singularly char- 
 acteristic of Devina. Hers was no nature to transfer 
 allegiance lightly, or to build with indelicate precipi- 
 tation upon the ruins of the past. Between her and 
 the possibility of a second lover there yawned a gulf 
 which she deemed forever impassable, an aching void 
 wherein lurked the demons of doubt and bitter unbe- 
 lief. 
 
 Pondering upon him, as she did many times, even 
 when apparently most engrossed in work, she discov- 
 ered that he reminded her of her father. No advo- 
 cate more powerful could have been found to plead 
 Toddie's cause. 
 
 Deep in some torture-chamber of her soul Devina 
 still suffered, still accused herself of misapprehen- 
 sion, and even of cruelty. The shock of her father's 
 
 233
 
 TODDIE 
 
 death was with her always, a grievous and abiding 
 calamity. Merciless in her judgments upon herself, 
 the memory of that terrible day when something un- 
 der a tarpaulin, something motionless that dripped, 
 had been carried into her home, was like an inexora- 
 ble voice crying aloud, reiterating her guilt. That 
 she had acted rigidly according to her comprehension 
 of the right mattered nothing. The result had been 
 calamitous. She had failed, and failure gnawed at 
 her heart. How unavailing was remorse ! He was 
 dead. And the unfeeling world went on just the 
 same. Forgetting his many shortcomings, Devina 
 remembered only that she might have been kinder. 
 
 This unexpected, and indeed disconcerting resem- 
 blance gave her pause. In a tremor of alarm she 
 asked herself if she had not been guilty of another 
 injustice. For a moment she was beset with doubt, 
 softened, womanly, full of generous impulses, yearn- 
 ing to make compensation, longing to right the wrong. 
 But the mood passed. The recollection of Toddie's 
 deception, flashing to mind, caused her to harden. 
 She did not believe that he had amended his evil ways. 
 No ! no ! that was all Miss Charity's credulity. 
 The memory of her own weakness fanned the flame. 
 Grimmer and more forbidding than ever she flung 
 repentance to the winds. 
 
 But the reaction came again when, her duties for 
 the day over, she was alone in her bedroom. The lit- 
 
 234
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tie room was to her a sanctuary. It was a part of her- 
 self : its austerity and air of cloistered quiet were as 
 the reflection of her soul its exquisite cleanliness 
 and neatness as the mirror of her life. A text nailed 
 to the wall and a photograph of her father were its 
 only adornments. There, freed from all observation 
 and from the necessity of self-control, she would give 
 herself up to the moods that laid imperative hands 
 upon her. Often an immense discouragement would 
 fall like a crape veil upon her spirits. Often, too, a 
 pathetic wistfulness would cause her lips to tremble 
 and her heart to swell. 
 
 Many a time would she stand at her little window 
 gazing outwards at the rain-swept street, while the 
 mournful blasts howled and sobbed, seeing nothing, 
 hearing nothing, absorbed and tortured by the dis- 
 tracting chaos of her thoughts. It seemed to her that 
 at such moments she came face to face with her own 
 heart. Arraigned before its judgment seat dissimu- 
 lation was no longer possible. Her mask of indigna- 
 tion dropped from her ; anger and even bitterness were 
 forgotten. Her whole mental attitude became one of 
 painful indecision, of interminable questionings, of 
 one seeking the truth with all the might of her tor- 
 mented heart. 
 
 And the truth came to her, as it comes always to 
 those who seek it with sincerity. It stood before her 
 in the darkness, and its voice was sad and hopeless as 
 
 235
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the wind that sighed without. It said : " Devina, 
 you are unhappy. You miss this man. You care for 
 him more than you think. You have been merciless, 
 cruel, hasty as you always are. This is your punish- 
 ment. You have lost your one chance of happiness. 
 No one will ever care to meet you now. All your life 
 you will be sad and lonely and desolate." 
 
 236
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ONE evening Charity had occasion to send to the 
 chemist. 
 
 " I '11 go," said Devina, and marched upstairs to 
 put on her hat. 
 
 " Goin' out ? " cried the cook in astonishment, when 
 Devina appeared in the kitchen. 
 
 " Are ye after meetin' onybody ? " asked Jessie. 
 
 Devina denied the insinuation with scorn, but 
 flushed as she saw them exchange smiles. 
 
 " Chemist ? " inquired the cook skeptically of the 
 contents of her frying pan. 
 
 " It was coal last time," tittered Jessie, turning 
 from the contemplation of her face in a pocket mir- 
 ror. " Are ye ashamed o' him, Devina ? " 
 
 But Devina, disdaining to answer, swept past her 
 tormentors, and letting herself into the night, banged 
 the kitchen door behind her. 
 
 For a moment there was silence. Then the cook 
 tasted a sauce critically, wiped a red finger on her 
 apron, and wagging an ominous head towards the 
 door, said: 
 
 " I wouldna trust her the length o' a clothes line. 
 237
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Dark ones are ay deep." She ruminated over this 
 incriminating fact for some time, then with a burst of 
 resentment and jerking impatiently at the regulator: 
 " Interf erin' thing ! I 've no patience with her." 
 
 " Settin' herself up to be that partic'lar, too," 
 chimed in Jessie in a high aggrieved voice ;" as if it 
 was a lassie's fault that the men prefer a bonnie 
 face." 
 
 " I sometimes wonder hers doesna turn the milk," 
 agreed the cook. " Hand me the salt, Jessie. Now 
 mark ma words, ma name 's no Lizzie McCrum if I 
 dinna give ye ill news o' her one day. There was 
 just such anither black woman in ma last place. 
 Black 's the color o' Satan." 
 
 " They say queer things about her in the dining- 
 room already," mused Jessie, arranging a curl. 
 
 " Is that a fact? " ejaculated her companion, turn- 
 ing hastily. 
 
 " Aye, at lunch the ither day Friday it was 
 ye mind we 'd company says wee Miss Stewart 
 eatin' her third meringue, says she : ' Devina 's a 
 character.' What did she mean by that? " 
 
 The cook's brows puckered. 
 
 " Did she say is a character, or has a character? " 
 
 " Is." 
 
 " That 's queer. But, hoots, I wouldna set much 
 store by what that wee thing says. Always at the 
 cards, I hear. I doubt if she can plain boil a potato. 
 
 238
 
 TODDIE 
 
 * /* a character? ' There 's no sense in that. And 
 what does the likes o' her ken aboot Devina's charac- 
 ter onyway? She should come to me." 
 
 " Or me," snapped Jessie spitefully, but the cook 
 swept on; 
 
 " But there, that 's the gentry all over. To folk 
 like them a lassie's character is not what she is, but 
 what her last mistress thinks she is n't." 
 
 " That 's a true word," acquiesced Jessie, with feel- 
 ing. 
 
 " And more nor that," cried the cook with the 
 warmth of one airing an ancient grievance. " Them 
 leddies just chuck aboot our characters from one to 
 the ither, withoot as much as by yer leave. No char- 
 acter will stand that. Na, na, ye must handle a char- 
 acter cannily. Ye must take it with faith, like 
 like ye do an egg." 
 
 " What a beautiful thought, cook," murmured Jes- 
 sie, with admiration. " Ye put me in mind o' a 
 book." 
 
 " Aye, a cookery book. But I 've no' been a cook 
 ten year for nothin'. Now I could tell your character 
 better nor Miss Charity ony day." 
 
 " Could ye? " cried Jessie, not without anxiety. 
 
 " Aye, could I. But never fear ; I 'm not one to 
 spoil a lassie's chance. Now, stop yer talkin' ; I must 
 attend to ma fish." 
 
 Meanwhile Devina was nearing the town. The 
 239
 
 TODDIE 
 
 night was dark, yet not black, for a glimmer of star- 
 light was in the air. A hint of spring was percepti- 
 ble a languor and warmth, as yet unseasonable, 
 but which needed only the confirmation of another 
 month to express itself in leaves. From time to time, 
 as Devina strode past the openings that led to the 
 sea, she was met by the voices of waves. Murmur- 
 ing to her softly out of the darkness they drew her 
 thoughts from human strife to the contemplation of 
 the infinite. As she listened, her bosom swelled with 
 feelings that eluded language, even as they eluded 
 comprehension. Vaguely wondering at herself, she 
 allowed a gentler mood to take possession of her ; her 
 pace involuntarily relaxed, the poise of her head 
 became less defiant, and, seen by the light of an occa- 
 sional lamp, her expression was characterized by a 
 sweet and dreaming solemnity. 
 
 At the corner of Grey Friars' Gardens she hesitated. 
 Either of two streets now led to her destination. By 
 the one she would pass within a few yards of Tod- 
 die's house ; by the other, and nearest way, she would 
 give it a wider berth. She chose the former. 
 
 Her commission transacted, she turned her steps 
 homeward. Her pace relaxed still more. An inex- 
 plicable feeling of disappointment came stealing over 
 her. She did not analyze it, yet she could not doubt 
 its existence, though it was less palpable than the star- 
 light, less visible than the wind. It was like a sea 
 
 240
 
 TODDIE 
 
 mist through whose diaphanous folds she saw the pres- 
 ent stretching itself in weary and lonely monotony far 
 into an illimitable future. 
 
 Passers-by looked at her. But Devina heeded not. 
 Engrossed in her thoughts, dignified, stately, yet con- 
 veying to the thoughtful observer an impression of 
 strength and grace of movement, she pursued her soli- 
 tary way. 
 
 She had retraced some two-thirds of her road, and 
 had left the more crowded thoroughfares behind her, 
 when she was startled by a familiar voice, high pitched 
 and incredulous. 
 
 " That 'ull no' be Devina Greig? " 
 
 Turning hastily, Devina recognized Tarn Macin- 
 tyre. They were old acquaintances, for Tarn still 
 occupied the house in Castle Street, next door to the 
 one that had been her home. 
 
 " Aye, it 's me," she assented, not ungraciously. 
 
 Tarn cautiously detached himself from a lamp- 
 post. 
 
 " Dearie me ! dearie me ! " he mused, oscillating 
 gently. " I 've not seen ye this long while back." 
 Then with an interest and warmth of affection that 
 surprised himself, he added : " Ye 're doin' weel, I 
 hope?" 
 
 " Fine," said Devina. 
 
 " That 's right. I 'm glad to hear ye say that. 
 Not that I had ma doubts. Oh, no ! for ye were aye
 
 TODDIE 
 
 steady. Still, I'm glad, for ye see " he touched 
 her sleeve with a timidly propitiatory gesture, " ye 
 see, I aye liked yer father." 
 
 A wave of self-reproach broke in memories over 
 Devina. She did not speak, for she was back in the 
 past. 
 
 Tarn, peering up at her and trying to consolidate 
 her image into a single, stable, and recognizable en- 
 tity, wondered nervously if he had offended. 
 
 A man passed them his footsteps ringing loud 
 on the stone pavement and seeing them standing 
 silent and motionless, smiled as he scented a misunder- 
 standing. 
 
 " You 're still at the carryin', I suppose ? " in- 
 quired Devina. She put the question without interest, 
 and without looking at him; influenced, it would ap- 
 pear, by motives of forced politeness. 
 
 Tarn replied with a dreary affirmative. He then 
 proceeded to discuss the state of the links, wandering 
 from thence into pathetic details connected with his 
 private affairs. But his words came thickly and with 
 difficulty, and soon broke off, for he saw with dull dis- 
 appointment that she was not listening. 
 
 Under the vertical rays of the lamp she stood mo- 
 tionless, gazing with unseeing eyes into the distance. 
 Her clear-cut, regular, and severely handsome fea- 
 tures, partially illuminated, betrayed the melancholy 
 trend of her thoughts. Her dejection communicated
 
 TODDIE 
 
 itself to her companion. The flicker of artificial 
 courage, inspired by drink, that had emboldened him 
 to speak to her, oozed from out his timid heart, leav- 
 ing in its place a vague regret that he had not al- 
 lowed her to pass unchallenged. 
 
 The night wind breathed gently upon them, and 
 from above, the stars looked down. 
 
 "Who was in your match to-day?" inquired De- 
 vina abruptly. As she spoke she turned and looked 
 full at him. 
 
 " Ma match ? The day ? " stammered Tarn, taken 
 by surprise. " Let me see ye mean who was I car- 
 ry in' for? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " No ? Oh, I see ye mean who was the ither man 
 carryin' for? " 
 
 " I mean nothing o' the sort." 
 
 Her anger, not only unexpected, but undeserved, 
 caused Tarn to gape. 
 
 " I 'm sorry I spoke like that," she muttered awk- 
 wardly. " You was right. It it was that I was 
 meanin'." 
 
 " Who was the ither man carryin' for? " 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " For Major Dale." 
 
 She made no comment; but Tarn, watching he* 
 nervously, saw her straighten herself and draw a deep 
 breath. The sight revived his courage. 
 
 243
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " It was a grand match," he quavered, in smiling 
 reminiscence, " though to tell ye the honest truth, De- 
 vina, I wouldna have got into it had it no' been for 
 Toddie." 
 
 He nodded with conviction. Then suddenly aware 
 that she was listening to him, he continued earnestly 
 and with a pleasant and unfamiliar feeling of im- 
 portance : 
 
 " He 's been a good friend to me, I 'm tellin' ye. 
 There 's few like him. Here t See them trousers ? 
 They were Major Dale's once. I canna tell ye all 
 Toddie 's done for me, ye wouldna believe it. He 
 gets me into his matches whenever he can, and not 
 only that, but keeps his eye on both balls ! Not that 
 I 'm needin' it," he added quickly, " for I can see fine ; 
 but that 's just to show ye his kindness o' heart. 
 Aye, an' we never lost one the day, but, hoots, ye 're 
 a woman and ye '11 no' ken all that means, and maybe 
 1 5 m wearyin' ye ? " 
 
 " Go on," said Devina. 
 
 Tarn who asked nothing better continued to 
 enumerate instances of Toddie's good nature. Bob 
 was instanced as a witness, likewise the Major. Tod- 
 die's past supplied subject-matter for several long- 
 winded anecdotes of a professional nature; and it is 
 curious to note that, though these were related in 
 Tarn's worst manner, Devina's attention never 
 wavered. 
 
 44
 
 TODDIE 
 
 At length, having exhausted his store of panegyric, 
 Tarn confessed that the present state of Toddie's 
 health gave him cause for anxiety. 
 
 At this, he paused, anticipating a question, but 
 none came. Yet, that he still held her interest was 
 past question, for as she stood before him in the yel- 
 low lamp-light, there was apparent a tension and 
 rigidity in her attitude that betokened one who waits. 
 
 " He 's no' like the same man," sighed Tarn. 
 
 "What's wrong with him?" she asked with ap- 
 parent indifference. Tarn's fingers played tentatively 
 over the bristles of a five days' beard. 
 
 " That 's what I canna exactly make oot. Ye 
 might say it was the one thing, and ye might say it 
 was the ither, and whatever ye said ye might be 
 wrong." 
 
 Stung by her exclamation he continued quickly: 
 " Not that I havena ma suspeecions. Oh, aye ! I 
 may be slow at the uptake, as Toddie says, but I 
 can see through him with all his cleverness, so I 
 can. 
 
 " It 's queer it should have come to him," he con- 
 tinued after a slight pause. " It 's like a judgment. 
 It doesna seem natural. Sandy Herd, now, ye could 
 understand, though I 'd be awful sorry for the lassie. 
 But Toddle! It beats all ! " 
 
 His wheezy old man's laughter terminated in a fit 
 of coughing. Devina looked on grimly. When he 
 
 245
 
 TODDIE 
 
 had recovered, she said scornfully, " No doot it 's 
 funny, but I canna see " 
 
 " Canna see! " he interrupted, with tremulous en- 
 ergy. " Canna see ! When I 'm tellin' ye that it 's 
 a woman ! " 
 
 Her start was not lost upon him, but before he 
 could speak again a man lurched past them and, rec- 
 ognizing Tarn, inquired with a hiccough if they had 
 leased the pavement. 
 
 " That 's Sandy Herd," whispered Tarn to his com- 
 panion ; " him I was tellin' ye about. See him ! Ma 
 word, he was near doon that time ! These railin's are 
 fine useful things. There he goes. A shilling's 
 worth o' whusky there, I '11 take ma oath. Bravo, 
 Sandy ! If ye can keep yer legs as far as the Tem- 
 perance Hall it 's all ye can manage the night. To 
 think" 
 
 He was interrupted by her voice, grave and full of 
 constraint : 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 Tarn stared anxiously. What was wrong with the 
 woman ? 
 
 " I dinna ken," he faltered, still wondering, and 
 gazing timidly at the outline of her averted face. " I 
 ken everything aboot her except her name." 
 
 " How 's that? " She had turned impulsively. 
 
 " Ah, ye 're astonished ! Ye didna think I was that 
 clever? Folk are aye deceived aboot me." 
 
 246
 
 TODDIE 
 
 But his complacent chuckle died before the trouble 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " I ken she 's big and black," he went on. " Aye, 
 and hard to move. Bob likes her. And Toddie 
 thinks all the world of her. She gave him tea once. 
 There 's some secret between them, though he near 
 choked me for tryin' to find oot what it was. Ah, nae 
 doot ye think that queer. I 'm not surprised. I 
 think it 's rideeculous maself ." 
 
 247
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 FROM far off came the dulcet and dreamy strains 
 of a barrel organ. The music a popular 
 melody, but softened and refined by the distance 
 moved Devina profoundly. It played upon her mood 
 as the fingers of a musician might play upon a harp. 
 The sweet and floating sounds were one with the very 
 spirit of sentiment, impregnated with an alluring and 
 indescribable melancholy ; the sadness that defies 
 analysis, yet lurks forever on the threshold of the 
 beautiful. Stealing on the night, no merely mechan- 
 ical combination of notes, but a river of mysterious 
 human emotion, flowing on, on, they inundated the lis- 
 tening soul with dreams, with hopes, with longings, 
 and with aspirations. 
 
 Devina stood entranced. She did not think of 
 these sounds as music, but as a message, the expres- 
 sion of a wonderful, an almost incredible happiness, a 
 gift bestowed unexpectedly upon her, and her 
 alone. 
 
 For as all that one hears, and all that one sees, dur- 
 ing moments of intense emotional perception ceases to 
 exist save as the audible or visible presentment of the
 
 TODDIE 
 
 preoccupied soul, so this music became to Devina but 
 as the whisper of her awakening heart. 
 
 The man cared for her! And as she told herself 
 this, not once but many times, as though repetition 
 could bring reality nearer, make it more credible, more 
 of a piece with the work-a-day fabric of her life, she 
 pressed her hands to her bosom to stifle the gladness 
 that would not be stifled. 
 
 For a brief and beautiful moment her doubts dis- 
 appeared. In their place fluttered a host of new and 
 overpowering emotions, womanly shrinking, undefined 
 but intensely realized, deliciously troubling, one with 
 the strength and the weakness of her sex. 
 
 She was a woman. Too long had she disbelieved 
 in love too often had she scoffed at the love affairs 
 of others. This was nature's revenge. Yet she ac- 
 cepted defeat with a wondering gladness. 
 
 The music grew fainter fainter died away. 
 As one torn from a beautiful dream, Devina awoke 
 to her surroundings the dark and deserted street, 
 with its oasis of yellow lamp-light ; the somber shad- 
 ows of the houses ; with here and there a lighted win- 
 dow faintly combating the obscurity; the cold and 
 wandering night airs; the remote and passionless 
 stars ; the dreary monotone of the sea all impressed 
 themselves upon her, a circle of realities hemming her 
 round like the walls of a prison house. 
 
 Like a torrent, damned for a season, that bursts 
 249
 
 TODDIE 
 
 from all restraint, her doubts swept back upon her. 
 In their train came unbelief, bitterness, hostility ; re- 
 grets that rankled, memories that stung. 
 
 The height to which he had soared but made the 
 fall more poignant. To anger against herself was 
 added the disappointment of one who loses hope at 
 the very moment when happiness seemed within her 
 grasp. 
 
 A sudden movement recalled Tarn to her attention. 
 He was leaning against the lamp-post, gazing va- 
 cantly at the pavement, the image of a patience born 
 of senility and semi-intoxication. The sight inflamed 
 her to sudden wrath. 
 
 " Ye 've been lyin' to me," she said. 
 
 Nothing but the lamp-post prevented Tarn from 
 collapsing. 
 
 " Ye 're drunk," she continued. There was a fierce 
 and concentrated resentment in her voice that cut like 
 a lash. So overcome was Tarn that he could only 
 stare. His bewildered helplessness was as oil to 
 flame. 
 
 " How dare ye ! " she vociferated. " Makin' fun 
 of me? No doot he put ye up to it. Just what he 
 would do. And you ! you 're just the sort of silly 
 auld man that would lend yerself to ony indecency. 
 I can see you two laughin' over it. Aye, it 's 
 funny " and she laughed. 
 
 Had he been less dazed Tarn would have distin- 
 250
 
 TODDIE 
 
 guished in her hard and mirthless merriment the dull 
 minor note that rings in every forced laugh. 
 
 " What 's wrong with ye? " he blurted, for she had 
 turned from him with suspicious abruptness. 
 
 She made no reply. 
 
 " Are ye gone daft ? What way of speakin' is 
 that? I may be auld, but I 'm not silly. And as for 
 bein' drunk, could I stand like this if I was drunk? 
 Funny, says you? Me! " His voice rose indig- 
 nantly. " I never was funny in my life. Devina ! 
 I canna keep on talkin' to yer back. Devina ! Speak 
 to me. What is it? " 
 
 " Leave me alone.'* 
 
 " I will not. I believe ye 're cryin'. Oh, no use 
 to shake yer head I 've been married maself . What 
 did I say " 
 
 " Naething. I 'm goin' home.'* 
 
 " Na, na, bide a wee. Was it aboot Toddie? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Weel, never mind ; but, as sure as death, it 's 
 God's truth I was tellin' ye. When a man gives up 
 the drink aye, forgets his manners and never offers 
 ye a drop when he takes to cleanin' hisself oot o' 
 mind; and reddin' up his kitchen so that ye canna 
 think where to sit; aye, and washin' his verra dog, 
 poor beastie ; there 's but one reason Are ye lis- 
 tenin'? " 
 
 " No. And I dinna believe a word ye 're sayin'. 
 251
 
 TODDIE 
 
 You men are all alike. You 'd swear black was white 
 to please each other, so ye would." 
 
 " You 're wrong there," piped Tarn eagerly. " I 
 dinna hold with swearin', and neether does Toddie. 
 And why should I say black was white to please him? 
 He 's no' carin'." 
 
 " Weel, I dinna want to hear onything aboot him. 
 I 'm goin' home." But in spite of her repeated as- 
 sertions, she did not move. 
 
 There ensued a long silence. Tarn shivered, then 
 buttoned his threadbare coat across his shrunken chest, 
 for the night air blew cold. He was tired, and longed 
 for his bed; but while this inexplicable woman stood 
 there, grim and silent, he dared not put his longings 
 into execution. 
 
 Gazing wearily at her back, seen as a dark and im- 
 pressive shadow, he wondered vaguely why she hated 
 Toddie what had angered her why she did n't 
 go home how long she would keep him standing 
 there in the darkness and the cold. Memories of his 
 dead wife and little tiffs they had had floated through 
 his sleep-oppressed brain. He had always prided 
 himself upon his knowledge of the sex, save during 
 these temporary misunderstandings. " Let them 
 talk," had been his motto. " When a woman talks," 
 he confided philosophically to a friend, " ye ken the 
 worst." It was with relief that at last he heard her 
 voice. 
 
 252
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " How long how long d' ye pretend he 's been 
 like that?" 
 
 Tarn sighed wearily : " I 'm no good at pretendin', 
 ye 'd find me oot afore I started ; and what 's the use 
 o' tellin' you? You won't believe me. And why 
 d' ye care at all? It 's naething to you if Toddie is 
 breakin' his heart." 
 
 The dark figure by his side made a sudden move- 
 ment, then became rigid. 
 
 "Did did he tell you that?" Her voice came 
 to him low and stifled. Tarn uttered a crow of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 "Him? No' likely! He's not one to talk. He 
 did say once it was for her sake. I was near forget- 
 tin' that. Aye, and that he carried her somewheres 
 or ither. But, hoots, Toddie 's queer at times. I 
 didna pay much attention to him; for, between you 
 and me, he takes a body in wi' his cleverness, always 
 meanin' things he doesna say parables he calls it 
 and if it was true he was no more conscious o' lettin' 
 it oot than a bairn. He 's that ignorant o' women, 
 somethin' peetyful. I wish I knew the woman. Ma 
 word, I 'd give her a talkin' to ! Spoilin' his life. I 
 believe I 'd shake her." 
 
 The old man had assumed an expression of comical 
 ferocity, but the effect was momentary, and it was in 
 his customary meek and despondent voice that he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 253
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " She must be terrible hard. No sort of a woman 
 at all. Ma -Jean wouldna have behaved like that. 
 Big and black. To see the man starvin' hisself 
 aye, ye may weel jump, it 's true, and if she 's no' 
 careful she '11 have his death to answer for, so she 
 will. I wish I could save him from her, for she canna 
 be worthy o' a love like that. Aye, it 's more serious 
 than you think, much more serious. I tell ye, De- 
 vina " he leant towards her, sinking his voice to a 
 whisper full of awful significance : " He emptied a 
 whole bottle o' whusky intil the grate." 
 
 To Tarn's satisfaction this information impressed 
 his listener as profoundly as he had hoped. Little 
 by little, acting apparently under compulsion, she 
 had turned towards him till he could see her profile, 
 dark against the circle of lamp-light. Something in 
 her attitude and expression induced him to say: 
 
 " I see fine ye 're moved. I ken you 've a kind 
 heart, Devina. Me and you canna understand a hard 
 woman like that. Her that ought to be sae proud 
 and grateful. Weel, it 's gettin' late, and I must 
 away home to ma supper. Guid night to ye." 
 
 He seized and shook her unresponsive hand, and 
 glad to make his escape, hurried off in the direction 
 of the town. 
 
 254
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 ' T S it going to rain ? " demanded Dale. 
 A " Weel, Major," responded Toddie, eying the 
 speaker with a deep-seated melancholy, which he 
 tried in vain to disguise under an impassive exterior, 
 " weel, Major, ye might think so, and again ye might 
 not." 
 
 " I believe," retorted his employer with some heat, 
 " that if I were to ask your name you would wriggle 
 out of it with something ambiguous. Here, give me 
 the driver." 
 
 " What did he mean by that? " questioned Toddie 
 gloomily of Tarn, as they followed the players. 
 
 " I didna hear. What was it he said? " 
 
 " He called me am ambeeguous." 
 
 " Did he, though ? Man, ye 've to put up wi' a lot 
 from that Major o' yours." 
 
 " Hoots, no ! He doesna mean it. Nae doot it 's 
 some dirt he 's picked up in furrin parts. It 's a 
 weary world, Tarn. Things goes wrong that easy." 
 
 " That 's what I tell ye though it 's the first time 
 ye 've agreed wi' me." 
 
 Toddie sighed. 
 
 255
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " What are ye sighin' at? Ye 're no' botherin* 
 over what he said? " 
 
 " Na, I wasna thinkin' o' him. And that wasna 
 sighin', that was just fetchin' ma breath. Aye, sir, 
 I 'm comin'." 
 
 " Will I reach it with the cleek ? " questioned Dale. 
 
 " Take yer brassie, sir, and go for it. What are 
 we givin' him? " 
 
 " Four strokes." 
 
 " Four strokes ! We '11 beat him easy. Here ye 
 are. Keep yer head doon. That 's it. A bonnie 
 shot That 'ull dae fine." 
 
 They reached the green. Toddie, flag in hand, 
 stood at attention. 
 
 " You to play, sir," he said encouragingly to his 
 employer. 
 
 " That 's one up," he remarked to Tarn, as he re- 
 placed the flag. " And you can take it from me that 
 it 'ull no' be the last." 
 
 " Maybe," assented Tarn indifferently. " It 's aw- 
 ful cold the day, ma rheumatics is something cruel. 
 What a wind ! it 's like snaw." 
 
 Toddie turned a thoughtful eye upon the low drift- 
 ing clouds. 
 
 " I canna think what brings them oot in this 
 weather," continued Tam. " No' but what it 's good 
 for us ; but if I was rich I 'd sit by the fire all day 
 would na you ? " 
 
 256
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Na, not me. I 'd buy a watch and chain for 
 for somebody I ken aboot, and a collar for Bob, and 
 maybe a coat for yerself." 
 
 " Would ye now? That's like you, Toddie. But 
 it 's a pair o' boots I 'm needin'." 
 
 " That 's a fact," agreed his friend, inspecting 
 Tarn's footgear critically. " Ye might pick up a bet- 
 ter pair nor that on the sands." 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by 
 Tarn's employer demanding if his caddie had seen his 
 ball. 
 
 " Aye, sir, Oh, aye," responded Tarn nervously. 
 The affirmative was forced from him by long habit, 
 but for all that he gazed blankly around, inspecting 
 each tuft of grass with a vague and hopeless inde- 
 cision. 
 
 " Here y' are ! " cried Toddie. 
 
 The game proceeded. 
 
 " Ye must keep a better eye on it than that, Tarn," 
 remonstrated his friend good naturedly. 
 
 " Aye, but between you and me ma sight is no' 
 what it was. It was ma wife did it. The woman 
 had a stroke, ye ken, and for six months I sat up wi* 
 her all night." 
 
 " And carried all day ? " 
 
 " Aye, what else was there to do ? " 
 
 Toddie looked at the bent and shuffling figure with 
 sympathy. 
 
 17 257
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " I 've somethin' to tell ye,'* whispered Tarn mys- 
 teriously, " but we 've nae time the now maybe 
 Ah, it 's what I feared here 's the rain 1 " 
 
 Over the vast and undulating stretch of the links 
 swept a veil of drifting vapor. It came from the sea 
 the Northern sea, mother of storms, and wind, and 
 rain ; breeder of insensate strife and appalling monot- 
 ony. In a few moments the distant hills and the 
 nearer coast were blotted from sight. No spot on 
 earth can be more abandoned to desolation, more pro- 
 ductive of melancholy, than this spit of land when 
 the storm-clouds muster. At such seasons all is en- 
 veloped in a winding sheet of gloom, and the insidious 
 approach of the mists is only to be equaled in eerie- 
 ness with the plaint of the unseen waves moaning to 
 the sands. 
 
 The rain thickened. At first but a few isolated 
 drops, it swiftly increased in volume until it concealed 
 even the most adjacent landmarks. It beat pitilessly 
 upon the golfers, rendering play, if not impossible, at 
 least a labor of much difficulty. 
 
 The Major and his opponent, somewhat protected 
 by their large golfing umbrellas, were less to be com- 
 miserated than were Toddie and Tarn. The rain 
 seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in blinding the cad- 
 dies' eyes, in trickling in cold streams between their 
 mufflers and their ill-fitting jackets, in penetrating be- 
 tween the cracks in their down-trodden boots. 
 
 258
 
 TODDIE 
 
 After a short consultation the game was aban- 
 doned. 
 
 " Let 's get to shelter," suggested Toddie to Tarn, 
 as their masters disappeared in the direction of the 
 town. " It 's no' that far, and maybe this winna 
 last." 
 
 Tarn acquiesced, as indeed he would have agreed to 
 any suggestion that emanated from Toddie. The 
 erection, designated the shelter, stood on an eminence 
 surrounded by gorse. Built in the form of a capital 
 T, it offered protection in all weathers. 
 
 " Toddie," said Tarn, when the two friends had 
 seated themselves, " I 've been thinkin'." 
 
 " Have ye now ? What 's the use o' thinkin' ? I 
 does a lot o' it, but it doesna help me. Man, but 
 ye 're wet, and I 'm no' much better maself . What a 
 water ! " and he slapped his cap with much energy 
 against the wooden wall. 
 
 " Take off yer coat, and let me give it a shake," 
 he commanded, looking with kindly solicitude upon 
 the old man, who sat, and dripped, and shivered, the 
 very picture of helpless though unconscious discom- 
 fort. 
 
 Tarn meekly divested himself of the garment. 
 When it had been restored to him, he repeated with 
 quavering earnestness : " I 've been thinkin'." 
 
 Weel, go on." 
 
 " Ye ought to give her up." 
 259
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie jumped. " Give who up? " he demanded, 
 fixing Tarn at the same time with threatening eyes. 
 
 " Her. The woman ye told me aboot. Her that 's 
 botherin' ye." 
 
 Toddie stared abruptly outwards at the falling 
 rain; something in his wet and serious countenance 
 caused Tarn to hold his breath. 
 
 "Why d'ye say that?" said Toddie at length, 
 speaking thickly. 
 
 " For yer ain sake," cried Tarn with eager- 
 ness. " I see you 're no' happy. You 're no' like the 
 same man, I canna even smell the drink on ye." 
 
 Toddie sighed again. 
 
 " Ah, never tell me," burst out Tarn, confirmed in 
 his gloomy prognostications. " You 're no' happy, 
 I see it fine. D' ye think I 'm no' carin' ? Weel, 
 ye 're wrong. Me and you has carried thegither for 
 years, and never an ill word. Is that naethin'? I 
 couldna say as much of ony ither man, so that 's 
 tellin' ye ! " 
 
 He broke off with a rare gesture and blew his nose 
 with tremulous energy upon a ragged wisp of hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 " And what for should I give her up ? " demanded 
 Toddie with measured hostility. 
 
 " She 's no' worthy o' ye. Hoots, ye wouldna hit 
 me ? I 'm no' af eared o' ye, Toddie. I ken ye bet- 
 ter than ye ken yerself." 
 
 260
 
 TODDIE 
 
 So confident and affectionate was Tarn's smile that 
 Toddie, disarmed, could only glare at him with undi- 
 minished antagonism. 
 
 " See here, Mister Tammas Macintyre," he re- 
 marked with awful politeness, " if onybody else had 
 said that I 'd have knocked it doon their throat, so I 
 would. Worthy o' me ! Her no' worthy of me! I 
 wonder ye dinna fall doon dead on the spot." 
 
 But Tarn with gentle incredulity shook his head. 
 
 " I ken what I 'm sayin'," he insisted. " I 've been 
 married maself . I ken what women are good ones, 
 I mean. Ma Jean was one. Nae doot she 's singin' 
 wi' the angels at this verra moment, she had a bonnie 
 ear for a tune. I mind once Hoots, man, dinna 
 fluster me, I 'm comin' to it. Weel, it 's this if 
 you was McPhee, or Herd, or Murdoch, if you was 
 just takin' yer fun wi' her, I wouldna feel anxious. 
 But you 're no' that sort. You 're like me, and 
 and I honor ye for it ! " 
 
 Toddie eyed him in amazement. 
 
 " It 's honest marriage you 're thinkin' of," pro- 
 nounced Tarn with conviction. 
 
 Toddie's amazement redoubled. 
 
 " Aye," went on the old man smilingly. " Ye see, 
 I can read ye better nor a book. Weel, I believe it 
 would suit ye. I dinna hold wi' a man livin' alone. 
 But ye '11 have to be careful, for now 's the time. 
 Oh, Toddie, be canny for ony sake! Think o' yer 
 
 261
 
 TODDIE 
 
 bairns. Is yon woman a good mither to give the puir 
 wee things? I misdoot it sairly." 
 
 " But " stammered Toddie, whom this pros- 
 pective paternity bewildered, " But ye dinna even 
 ken her ! " 
 
 " Na, I dinna need to ken her. I see fine what she 
 is. Stop a minute, let me tell ye : there 's but two 
 sorts o' women in this world, them that makes a man 
 happy, and them that doesna." 
 
 "Weel?" 
 
 " Weel, is she makin' you happy ? Answer me 
 that? " 
 
 Fain would Toddie have retorted with an affirma- 
 tive, but truth sealed his lips. 
 
 " Ah," cried Tarn triumphantly, " you 're moved. 
 I feel for ye. It 's God's truth I 'm speakin'. If a 
 man 's no' happy wi' a woman before marriage, never 
 think he '11 be after." 
 
 " But whiles it 's the man's fault." 
 
 Tarn waved his hand. " Never tell me," he said in- 
 dignantly. *' You! decent spoken even in yer drink ! 
 As honest a lad as ye '11 find in St. Andrews. ' The 
 man's fault ! ' Hear to him ! Ah, that 's like you, 
 Toddie, always blamin' yerself . Na, na, it 's what I 
 said to ye before, she 's no " 
 
 " I '11 not listen," shouted Toddie, jumping to his 
 feet and upsetting the golf-bag, which fell with a 
 clatter. " It 's scandalous, so it is. What do you 
 
 262
 
 TODDIE 
 
 know ? Oh, ye 've been married, I grant ye that, but 
 is that ony excuse for takin' away a good woman's 
 character? Think shame o' yerself! Ye 're worse 
 nor the rain. Guid day " 
 
 " Stop, Toddie, stop ! I didna mean " 
 
 " Weel, ye should ha' meant. An auld man like 
 you, wi' one foot in the grave and the ither on the 
 links. What a senseless poseetion. I 'm surprised 
 at ye." 
 
 Tarn quailed before his frown. 
 
 " An' mair nor that," denounced Toddie, warming ; 
 " yours is the man's point o' view selfish. We men 
 has a lot to answer for ; have we r 
 
 He was interrupted by a prolonged and painful fit 
 of coughing. So feeble and suffering did the old 
 man appear that Toddie's anger fled. With rough 
 kindness and according to custom, he thumped his 
 adversary on the back. 
 
 " Thank ye thank ye," gasped Tarn, to whom 
 the cure was more to be dreaded than the complaint, 
 but who would not for the world have risked hurting 
 his friend's feelings by the confession. " That 'ull 
 do, Toddie, I 'm better now. But ye 're no' fair to 
 me." 
 
 Toddie muttered grimly that he was glad to hear it. 
 
 " Aye," wheezed Tarn, still out of breath, " it 
 wasna the man's point o' view only, for I had a talk 
 aboot ye wi' a woman the ither night." 
 
 263
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddle's face crimsoned. 
 
 " Hoots ! Ye needna mind. I 've kenned the las- 
 sie all her life. She 's a steady, God-fearin' young 
 woman, so she is. I 'd take her opeenion against ony- 
 body's." 
 
 " What 's her name ? " questioned Toddie, partially 
 mollified. 
 
 " Devina Greig. 
 
 " Aye," continued Tam, unheeding. " I telt her 
 all aboot ye, how ye were washin' yerself and Bob, and 
 how ye emptied all that good whusky into the grate." 
 
 There ensued a long silence; then Toddie's voice, 
 hopelessly beyond control, was heard to whisper: 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
 " Say ! " Tam laughed in appreciative reminis- 
 cence. " Ye ken what women are she couldna find 
 enough to say. She said it was noble of ye." 
 
 "She said that 1" 
 
 " Aye, did she. She was fair ashamed o' the ither 
 woman. Man, I tell ye she was cryin' oot o' peety 
 and admiration for ye. * Tam,' says she, * I wonder 
 if he can forgive her? ' Ah, Toddie, her heart 's in 
 the right place. Man, if ye could only ha' cared for 
 her. Weel what are ye smilin' at ? " 
 
 264-
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A CH-H, nae mair manners nor a cat! Ye 
 ^~V wouldna catch me yawnin' in your face if you 
 was talkin' aboot her. Man, I could listen by the 
 hour, so I could. Ye 've no taste, Bob. If it was a 
 question o' sheep ye 'd be fair aff yer head, an' is 
 she no' worth a whole flock? Ach-h, silly beast! " 
 
 Nothing abashed, Bob watched his master as that 
 individual proceeded to dress. A restrained excite- 
 ment was observable in the dog's behavior, for was it 
 not the Sabbath, a day to which he had looked for- 
 ward with an eagerness of anticipation not to be sur- 
 passed in the heart of the most zealous church-goer. 
 Contrary to his custom on other and less joyous up- 
 risings, he betrayed an affectionate and personal in- 
 terest in the drawing on of socks, in the fastening of 
 buttons, for did not each step bring him nearer the 
 breakfast the walk in a word, the whole vista 
 of innocent pleasures to be enjoyed in the exclusive 
 and day-long society of Toddie? 
 
 Despite the grayness of the morning, the sun was 
 shining brightly for both master and dog no mere 
 celestial luminary, but an orb independent of solar 
 
 265
 
 TODDIE 
 
 systems, the sun of happiness. Never in Bob's recol- 
 lection had Toddie been gayer, no, not even when un- 
 der the exhilarating influence of liquor. He smiled 
 he joked he even essayed to sing ! His manipu- 
 lation of the loaf at breakfast betrayed a soul superior 
 to economy. His treatment of the fire would have 
 merited the warm approval of Turpie the coal mer- 
 chant. The day had a most promising beginning. 
 
 After breakfast, however, there came a change. 
 Toddie sank unaccountably into a brown study. In 
 vain Bob threw out hints. In vain the grandfather's 
 clock sought to remind its owner solemnly that the 
 hour for exercise had arrived. Pipe in mouth the lit- 
 tle caddie frowned at the fire. 
 
 " How can I manage it? " he exclaimed at length, 
 spitting thoughtfully into the grate. " Keep still, 
 Bob, what are ye bother'n' aboot ? Ye see, it 's like 
 this I darena go to her house withoot being in- 
 vited. It wouldna do. I 'm af eared it wouldna be 
 company manners. She wouldna like it. I confess 
 to ye, I 'm nervous. I wish it was over. I feel near 
 backin' oot o' it. It 's the first glint o' her eyes I 'm 
 fearin'. Ye ken the way she looks at ye, Bob, like as 
 if ye 'd been stealin' the milk. And yet did she no' 
 tell Tarn I was to forgive her? Ma God, me forgive 
 her! Me no' fit to breathe the same air ! What a 
 woman ! What a woman ! " 
 
 His face glowed with enthusiasm. Bob, divided 
 266
 
 TODDIE 
 
 between sympathy and impatience, growling tenderly 
 laid a tentative paw upon his knee. 
 
 " Aye," continued Toddie softly, as much to him- 
 self as to the dog, " I 've no need to fear. She must 
 be awful fond o' me, or she wouldna have said that. 
 And then cryin' ! Oh, it's amazin'!' I can 
 hardly believe it. It 's too good to be true ; so it is. 
 But how to get at her? What would ye advise, eh? " 
 
 Bob, finding himself pointedly appealed to, looked 
 at the door. 
 
 " That 's it ! " cried his master in a burst of relief 
 and admiration. " Ye 're a wonder f Ye just think 
 for the pair o' us. I believe ye 're as keen on it as 
 I am maself . By gosh, I '11 take yer advice ! I '11 go 
 to her this verra minute." 
 
 He leapt to his feet. At that moment the pro- 
 found quiet of the Sabbath morning was broken by 
 the tolling of church bells. Toddie listened as the 
 chimes rang out, died away, and rang out once more, 
 his face fixed, his mind working. 
 
 " I have it," he cried, slapping his leg. " I '11 go 
 to the Kirk ; she 's bound to be there." 
 
 With feverish haste he donned his best coat, the 
 Major's boots, an india-rubber collar, a black tie, 
 worn but once before and at a funeral, and a hard 
 black hat, a relic of his youth then inspected him- 
 self anxiously in the small, cracked mirror. 
 
 " This will never do ! " he ejaculated, addressing 
 267
 
 TODDIE 
 
 his likeness with sudden consternation. " Ye 're just 
 a porkipine wi' that chin o' yours. I doubt she '11 
 never stand that ! Hair 's an awful responsibility," 
 he confided to Bob as he whetted a razor used indis- 
 criminately to open tins and cut its owner's face 
 " it 's aye scheemin' to get the better o' ye, so it is." 
 
 The operation was painfully and only partially suc- 
 cessful, but the knowledge that it was suffering for 
 Devina's sake was as balm to the smarting face; and 
 it was with a more hopeful heart that, flinging the 
 instrument of torture aside, he made precipitately for 
 the door. But he had counted without his four- 
 footed companion, for Bob, fully convinced that the 
 hour for emancipation had arrived, gave vent to loud 
 barks of delight. Toddie stopped short his face 
 fell. 
 
 " Bob, ma mannie," he faltered, holding out a hand, 
 " I see what ye 're after. Ma word, I 'm no better 
 nor a beast I I was thinkin' o' ma ain pleesure. Na, 
 go back, puir wee man. I canna take ye, Bob. Will 
 ye forgive me, eh? " 
 
 With that touching and divine quality so akin to 
 the angelic and so far transcending the human Bob 
 gave his master absolution for all offenses, past, pres- 
 ent, and to come. But the memory of the mournful 
 eyes and the drooping tail followed Toddie like a 
 mute reproach out of the little kitchen into the gray 
 of the sunless streets. 
 
 268
 
 THE thoroughfares which but five minutes before 
 had been as lifeless and depressing as a tomb, 
 began to show faint signs of returning animation. 
 Nothing very lively or exhilarating, it is true ; a mere 
 dribble of sable-clad figures all proceeding in one di- 
 rection, all visibly suffering from the effects of the 
 Scottish Sabbath. The clatter of feet upon the cob- 
 ble-stones alone dared to desecrate the silence, for 
 voices were tuned to a hushed and sacrificial key. 
 Even the children, under the stern eyes of their elders, 
 marched as to a funeral, consoled in the hour of un- 
 natural repression by the proud consciousness of 
 gloves and the friction of unfamiliar stockings. 
 
 To the heart of a stranger this scene, so gloomy, 
 so lacking in all the glad and spontaneous qualities 
 that make for true worship, would have struck a chill ; 
 but to the born Scot it brought only a satisfactory 
 sense of appropriateness. The shuttered shops, the 
 gray streets, the colorless sky, the dark clothing and 
 solemn countenances, all were of a piece, all har- 
 monized equally with each other and with the slow, 
 monotonous and melancholy tolling of the bells. 
 
 269
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Toddie stumped along the pavement. Though in 
 the procession, he had the embarrassing sensation of 
 not being of it. He felt constrained and awkward in 
 his unusual finery. He missed the freedom of the 
 links, even the feel of the golf -bag on his shoulder. 
 Above all, he missed Bob. 
 
 For more years than he cared to remember Toddie 
 had avoided the Kirk, influenced by no feelings of 
 impiety, but swayed by the Nature-spirit that wor- 
 ships not in houses but in the vast temple of the open 
 air. 
 
 Did one of his colleagues take him to task, Toddie 
 would growl : " Mind yer ain business. I 'm no 
 heathen. The Lorrd kens me fine." 
 
 With the Reverend Mr. McColl Toddie flattered 
 himself that he was on terms of mutual approbation. 
 Truth to tell, the " Meenister " was, with the solitary 
 exception of the Major, the one soul in St. Andrews 
 of whom Toddie stood in wholesome awe. For this 
 no sense of social inferiority must be held responsible, 
 but a lively, if fearful, appreciation of the clergy- 
 man's innate and unaffected piety. Yet, outwardly, 
 there appeared nothing to inspire alarm in the tall, 
 emaciated figure with its slight stoop, or in the pale 
 face with its ascetic mouth and beautiful smile. A 
 feeling of moral delinquency afflicted Toddie during 
 their rare interviews, aggravated by an extreme re- 
 luctance to disappoint the one being who still enter- 
 
 270
 
 TODDIE 
 
 tained unaccountable hopes concerning his salva- 
 tion. 
 
 " I did n't see you in church last Sunday, Toddie," 
 the clergyman had said, stopping our hero in the 
 street upon one occasion, and speaking as if the 
 omission were a cause of heartfelt regret to both. 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " I always look for you." 
 
 " Do ye, sir? " 
 
 " Always. I '11 see you there one of these days." 
 
 Much embarrassed, Toddie fumbled with his cap 
 which he had forgotten to replace. 
 
 "How's my friend Bob?" 
 
 " Fine, Meenister, fine." This with instantaneous 
 relief and the broadest of smiles. 
 
 " That 's right. Tell him that he must spare you 
 to me occasionally. Good-by, Toddie." 
 
 " Good-by to you, sir." Then, apostrophizing 
 the departing figure : *' Dang it, you 're a guid man ! 
 If all the worrld was like you it would be a bonnie 
 place. You 're right. I '11 have to come and hear 
 ye one o' these days. I '11 tell Bob. But the beastie 's 
 awful exactin' ; I doot if he '11 let me." 
 
 It was indeed no slight upheaval of ancient habit 
 that induced Toddie to set Bob at defiance, to forego 
 the Sabbath outing, to brave the criticism of the 
 neighbors and to darken the doors of a church. Yet 
 his imperative longing to see Devina at once, pre- 
 271
 
 TODDIE 
 
 vailed over all. The impulse was irresistible. Tod- 
 die marveled. His mind was divided between won- 
 der, timidity, self -consciousness, and a fearful joy. 
 As he walked, he looked stolidly ahead, feigning an 
 assurance he was far from feeling. To see his 
 weather-beaten face composed into an awful and Sev- 
 enth Day gloom, his coat buttoned tightly across his 
 chest, as though fearful of betraying the poverty 
 that lurked beneath, his hat jammed sternly upon his 
 head, you would have sworn that this was for him no 
 violation of custom, but a regular weekly occurrence. 
 It was a most creditable imitation; but, alas, it de- 
 ceived no one. 
 
 " Where is he goin' ? " whispered Mrs. Aytoun, 
 the fishmonger's wife, to her husband. " Guid 
 sakes ! dinna tell me he 's comin' to the Kirk ! " 
 
 Aytoun, forgetful for the moment of the dignity 
 befitting a silk hat, uttered an equally astonished 
 ejaculation. 
 
 " I believe ye, mither ! What 's come to him ? By 
 gosh, he must ha' found releegion I " 
 
 Mrs. Aytoun sniffed skeptically. 
 
 " Them that doesna like women will never see the 
 Kingdom o' God. What like was you before I mar- 
 ried ye, eh? No more use than a rotten fish. Mary, 
 keep yer eyes straight that 's no way to behave on 
 the Sabbath ! " 
 
 Within the porch of the sacred edifice stood Mc- 
 272
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Phee, mounting guard over the plate into which the 
 faithful deposited their offerings. Dressed entirely 
 in rusty black, with his long upper lip recently shaved, 
 and an expression of sanctimonious melancholy, he 
 might have posed as a mute at a funeral. 
 
 When he caught sight of Toddie, a look of mingled 
 amazement and curiosity overspread his face, but was 
 banished on the instant as unbefitting the dignity of an 
 elder. Toddie met his lack-luster eyes, in which there 
 now shone not the faintest gleam of recognition, with 
 a defiant jerk of the head. He would hear about it 
 in the golf-shelter next day but no need to anticipate 
 trouble. 
 
 " Take this," he said loftily. 
 
 And with the air of one who giveth of his abun- 
 dance he produced a penny. 
 
 At the inner door, however, he paused irresolute; 
 then, observing an empty pew conveniently near to 
 the exit, he quietly took a seat. 
 
 The place, and more especially the mental atmos- 
 phere which it conjured up, and which was, as it 
 were, the imperishable soul of the building, impressed 
 Toddie profoundly. It came upon him unexpectedly, 
 awakening emotions that had slumbered for years. 
 Yet the interior owed nothing to adornment. Its 
 whitewashed walls, its unpainted windows, its un- 
 lovely ceiling, its plain, box-shaped pulpit and pews, 
 its air of simplicity, almost of austerity, drew their, 
 is
 
 TODDIE 
 
 power from some indwelling force that, scorning all 
 lust of the senses, had its roots deep within the soul. 
 Freed from the thrall of external imagery, the im- 
 agination had scope to conceive, and painted upon 
 this somber background, as upon a canvas, the ter- 
 rors of hell and the glories of paradise. It swept 
 Toddie back irresistibly to the days of his boyhood, 
 when he too not the least ardent among the many 
 worshipers, had exulted, and loved, and feared. In- 
 expressibly softened and subdued he gazed around 
 him with reverence. 
 
 Devina was nowhere to be seen. In vain Toddie's 
 eyes roamed over the occupants of the adjacent 
 seats, searched the aisles, penetrated to the pews 
 beneath the gallery. Every one else became to him 
 unimportant. It was the sight of the one face that 
 he hungered for, and yet feared. But it was not 
 there, and as he was reluctantly forced to this con- 
 clusion, the feeling of reverence abated, and his mind 
 was racked with anxiety. 
 
 The minister ascended the pulpit, gave out the 
 first psalm, and the congregation stood up to sing. 
 Toddie mechanically followed their example. His 
 neighbor a young woman observing that he 
 lacked a hymn book, invited him with a gesture to 
 share hers. He laid hold of the extreme edge of it, 
 absent mindedly, his eyes on the alert, his ears listen- 
 ing for the sound of a step. 
 
 274
 
 TODDIE 
 
 At the beginning of the second verse a tall, dark 
 figure, entering hurriedly, glided up the aisle and 
 seated itself within a few yards of his pew. Tod- 
 die's heart leapt. It was she. 
 
 From that moment he sat or stood entirely ob- 
 livious of the service. Would she look at him? 
 Nothing else mattered. 
 
 Devina was dressed in her Sunday best. Her hat 
 boasted of a feather. Beneath its brim her luxuriant 
 hair could be seen coiled into a dark yet shining mass. 
 Her black jacket, setting off the full curves of her 
 figure, was trimmed with fur of so delusive a hue that 
 the rabbits would have been at a loss to recognize 
 their stolen property. Her hands were concealed 
 from sight by thread gloves at one and sixpence a 
 pair. 
 
 This elegance of attire, enhancing as it did the 
 somber beauty of her face, caused Toddie's heart to 
 expand with feelings of admiration so intense as to 
 verge upon awe. That he should dare to love so 
 superior a 1 eing rilled him with a modest amazement. 
 He all but grew indignant with himself for his pre- 
 sumption. His own clothing, which up to that mo- 
 ment had appeared not unworthy of respect, now 
 filled him with nothing but dissatisfaction. Why had 
 he not black trousers, like McPhee a silk hat, like 
 Aytoun? He became not only anxious but depressed, 
 for Devina seemed to have been metamorphosed into 
 
 275
 
 TODDIE 
 
 a lady, and to have been lifted as far above his level 
 by material circumstances, as he knew her to be by 
 beauty of character. Even the confidences of Tarn, 
 which had hitherto buoyed him up, now ceased to 
 inspire him with assurance. They seemed impossible. 
 From where he stood he could see her profile. For 
 him it lit up the church. All his life his feelings 
 had lain dormant. They awoke now. His blood 
 sang. His heart palpitated. Drops of perspiration 
 gathered on his forehead. With open mouth he 
 gazed, and gazed, and gazed again. 
 
 " Sit down, sit down," whispered his neighbor, and 
 Toddie suddenly aroused from his dream, awoke to 
 the fact that the congregation were at prayer. 
 
 Meanwhile Devina was blissfully unconscious of 
 the vicinity of her lover. Taught from her youth up 
 to look seriously impressed in church, she preserved 
 a composed and devout demeanor; and if her eyes 
 indulged, as at times they did, in a stealthy and 
 critical inspection of the hats in front of her, she 
 made haste to recall them to their duty. Indeed, 
 deeply religious as she was by nature, the service was 
 to her a sincere and abiding pleasure. Whether sing- 
 ing the psalms in her deep, untrained, yet pleasantly 
 tuneful voice, or following the long-winded prayers 
 with closed eyes and bowed head, or listening rever- 
 ently to the reading of the Scriptures, Devina threw 
 her whole heart into her devotions, 
 
 276
 
 TODDIE 
 
 It was not until the text for the sermon had been 
 given out, and Mr. McColl had begun to expound 
 justification by faith, that, leaning back in her seat, 
 she permitted herself to take note of the congregation. 
 At first a bonnet on her immediate left monopolized 
 her attention; then nearer and nearer to the pew in 
 which Toddie was seated crept the calm and observant 
 gaze. Toddie rigid, spell-bound, ceased to breathe. 
 It seemed a century then, all at once, their eyes 
 encountered. It was but for the fraction of a sec- 
 ond, but his fascinated face had done its work. Hot 
 waves of color inundated Devina's cheeks, her brow, 
 even her neck; and under the modest jacket her 
 bosom rose and fell. 
 
 " She 's seen me 1 " thought Toddie, trembling. 
 " Ma God, she 's seen me 1 " 
 
 Thereafter, though never another look was be- 
 stowed upon him, he sat in a trance, the victim of 
 unreasoning delight. Her agitation had not escaped 
 him. It restored hope and courage. The atmos- 
 phere, redolent of peppermints and musty with the 
 smell of rarely-used clothing, seemed to him beautiful 
 the naked church, a shrine the monotonous 
 voice of the preacher, music falling from the spheres. 
 
 The service over, he waited for her in the street. 
 At her approach he found no word to say. 
 
 " Weel," she said, and stopped before him. 
 
 " Weel, Miss Greig," he muttered huskily. 
 277
 
 TODDIE 
 
 The pleading in his eyes moved her, but disguising 
 her emotion, she remarked that it was a fine day. 
 He assented. Passers-by saw them and smiled, but 
 they were unconcious of the presence of others. 
 
 "Can I can I speak to ye?" stammered Tod- 
 die. 
 
 Devina frowned. " I 've no time the now." She 
 hesitated as she saw his face fall, then, with a rising 
 color : " But if ye like I '11 meet ye this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Thank ye." His throat was dry ; the words 
 would scarcely come. 
 
 " On the East sands at two o'clock." 
 
 " Thank ye." 
 
 With a curt nod she turned away. 
 
 " Stop," cried Toddie. Somewhat surprised, she 
 obeyed. 
 
 "Can I bring Bob?" 
 
 A rare smile parted her lips. 
 
 " Bring him, and welcome," she said. 
 
 278
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 TODDIE was the first to arrive at the trysting 
 place. Nor is this to be wondered at, seeing 
 that he was a full half hour in advance of the ap- 
 pointed time. 
 
 As all who have visited St. Andrews know well, the 
 East sands are the small strip of shingles that sweeps 
 from the primitive harbor to the cliffs that extend 
 in a series of misty headlands towards the south. 
 Separated from the world of golf by the length and 
 breath of the town, the East sands are, so to speak, 
 a place apart. They seem to have forsworn all con- 
 nection with sports and pastimes, with bathing ma- 
 chines and pierrots, with nursery-maids and children, 
 and to have retired from humanity in a fit of peni- 
 tential loneliness. For them the cries of golfers 
 wafted over the sand-dunes are replaced by natural 
 and more harmonious sounds the thunder of un- 
 wearying surf, and the infinitely melancholy piping 
 of sea-birds. Rarely do passers-by disturb their se- 
 renity. At times some solitary figure may be seen, 
 slow-moving, often-pausing, as it laboriously gathers 
 
 279
 
 TODDIE 
 
 driftwood to feed a cottage fire ; or from the shelter 
 of the little harbor a fishing boat may be distin- 
 guished, passing seawards. 
 
 That is all. Yet are they not without beauty 
 a beauty rare and all their own. Nature has not 
 adorned them with shells, but she has painted them 
 with the richest and freshest colors from her palette. 
 The shingles, of somewhat coarse grain, gleams wetly 
 in the sun, like ruddy gold. The rocks and boulders 
 that form the southern boundary are a stone-house 
 of ever-living wonder and delight pools, forgotten 
 of the tide, limpid and crystal-clear seaweed, thick 
 and brown as a mermaid's tresses delicate growths, 
 green as emerald and salt faint flowers that seem to 
 have drunk sorrow from the tears of the sea. Among 
 and over these the tides love to play, with the lapse 
 and gush of waves, with sudden sallies and swift re- 
 treats. And as though imbued with a spirit of co- 
 quetry, essentially feminine, this spot so secluded 
 steals the elemental loveliness of every changeful hour, 
 decks itself in gleams and shadows, in the amber 
 and amethyst of dawn, in the gold of noon, in the 
 pearls and moonstones of night. 
 
 Toddie stood motionless and watched the sea. Bob, 
 who up to that moment had been taxing his four in- 
 defatigable legs to their utmost, challenging the 
 waves and hurling defiance at the sea-gulls, now stood 
 beside his master gazing inquiringly up into his face 
 
 280
 
 TODDIE 
 
 and wagging an encouraging tail. But Toddie was 
 unconscious of these advances. 
 
 A storm had raged far out at sea. The swell of 
 its subsiding was to be marked in the unusual size 
 of the waves. These ocean-born creatures, instinct 
 with life and strength, and a savage Titanic glee, 
 came shouting towards him, rank behind rank, in 
 long level lines ; and, as each curved to the crash 
 of its dissolution, its snowy crest, catching the sun- 
 light, glittered like a cascade of diamonds. Some- 
 thing of their wild poetry passed into Toddie's blood 
 and thrilled him strangely, he knew not why. Yet 
 the reason was not far to seek. The great heart of 
 ocean beat as tumultuously as did his own the glad 
 paean of its praise found an echo within his soul. She 
 was coming. 
 
 The half hour had barely elapsed when Devina was 
 to be seen walking along the path that led from the 
 high road. She approached quickly, as one sure of 
 being expected. At the sight, Bob growled softly. 
 
 " Be quiet, ye beast," said his master in a rough 
 tone, which, however, deceived no one. Then with 
 a break in his voice. " Oh, Bob, Bob, she 's here ! 
 Whatever can I say ? " 
 
 Aware that she was being watched, Devina's pace 
 relaxed. She neared him with slow sedateness, a 
 black figure with downcast eyes, picking her way 
 with exaggerated care among the debris that littered 
 
 281
 
 TODDIE 
 
 the beach. " I mustna show the man I 'm carin'," 
 she kept repeating to herself, and schooled her fea- 
 tures to an expression of grim immobility. But for 
 all that, her heart beat fast, and the surf, the shingle 
 and the cliffs swam in a radiance that emanated 
 as much from her own thoughts as from the bright- 
 ness of the sky. 
 
 Ever since she had recognized Toddie in the Kirk 
 she had been the slave of emotions that filled her 
 with exquisite joy and with tremulous fear. The 
 world had changed. She moved through it in a beau- 
 tiful dream. Familiar objects had become strangely 
 unfamiliar. Vaguely she marveled thereat, but for- 
 got them, as indeed she forgot all else, in listening 
 to the singing of her heart. At times, rousing her- 
 self with an affort, she sternly stigmatized her frame 
 of mind as " daft-like." It was but a momentary 
 return to her old self, for even as she spoke she was 
 again floating in regions of the vague and bright. 
 
 Her companions at the midday meal commented 
 on the change ; struck by the unusual softness of 
 her voice and by the subdued and twilight brightness 
 of her eyes. 
 
 "What's come to the woman," ejaculated the 
 cook, pausing in the act of washing up the plates. 
 " She didna scold ye for upsettin' yer gravy 
 though it 's me that should mind, for it 's me that 
 washes the cloth." 
 
 282
 
 TODDIE 
 
 " Aye," returned Jessie, looking up from the crit- 
 ical inspection of a fashion plate, " and did ye hear 
 her speak to the cat? She never missed the bit o' 
 meat. I was feared she would see me laughin'. Aye, 
 cook, take ma word for it, it 's eether stomach-ache 
 or love. They both grips a lassie the same way. 
 She 's for oot again this afternoon, and that 's her 
 new hat she 's on. Whisht here she is ! " 
 
 Toddie had thus achieved a triumph of which he 
 was unaware. To absorb a woman's mind is not 
 that an immense conquest for a man who aspires to 
 be loved? For in love, as in life, nothing stands still. 
 It is either a diminution or a progression. Once 
 within the magic circle having once succeeded in 
 enthralling her imagination, in coloring her dreams, 
 a man may march straight to a woman's heart. 
 Everything conspires to assist him. Her every 
 thought has become his unconscious ally, and in whis- 
 pering of him continually fans the flame that de- 
 vours her peace of mind. Until the end and God 
 alone knows whether it be for better or for worse 
 there can be no drawing back. 
 
 283
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 WHAT have ye to say? " questioned Devina. 
 Her agitation, and the effort necessary to 
 conceal it, imparted unintentional severity to her tone. 
 This was precisely the interrogation which Toddie 
 had foreseen and feared. 
 
 The light in Devina's eyes might have given him 
 some insight as to the true state of her mind 
 but Toddie was unversed in woman's eyes. He heard 
 only the hard voice ; he felt only the overmastering 
 presence, and pathetically conscious of his unworthi- 
 ness, he trembled. 
 
 Something in the wordless appeal of his face 
 prompted her to come to his aid. 
 
 " I didna think to be talkin' to the likes of you 
 again." 
 
 " No, Devina." The Christian name slipped from 
 him unawares. Neither noticed the familiarity. 
 
 " No," she said decidedly, poking at the sand with 
 her umbrella, " not after what I saw in yer room. 
 But but we all has our faults, and it says much 
 for us if we can get the better of them." She paused,
 
 TODDIE 
 
 then with increased awkwardness : " I spoke to yer 
 friend Tamraas Macintyre the ither night." 
 
 "Then it was true?" blurted Toddie, his face 
 aglow. 
 
 " What was true? " 
 
 Toddie, overcome with modest embarrassment, 
 smiled deprecatingly. 
 
 " Weel? " she insisted. 
 
 " Oh, I ken fine it doesna suit me at all. There 's 
 naethin' noble aboot me, I 'm just a common caddie. 
 So you can pictur* ma feelin's when you said it." 
 
 "Noble?" 
 
 " Aye, that was the word. Have ye forgotten it? 
 Aweel " He gazed up at her with respectful ad- 
 miration " a woman like you canna be expected to 
 remember all the kind things she says." 
 
 " I never said it." 
 
 "Never said it!" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then then it was all lies he was tellin' me. It 
 wasna true you was cryin', eh ? " 
 
 Her face flushed she looked away. 
 
 " Wait till I catch him ! " 
 
 " Na, let him be. He 'd no business to say that, 
 but maybe he meant well. An auld man like him 
 canna be expected to account for the silly things he 
 says." 
 
 His anger was extinguished suddenly, like the
 
 TODDIE 
 
 flame of a lamp blown out by the wind. To it suc- 
 ceeded depression and the natural irritation of one 
 who, face to face with a longed-for opportunity, 
 finds himself incapable of taking advantage of it. 
 His castle of hope had then been built on the sands? 
 Did she love him? Did she even care for him a 
 little? He looked despairingly at her, and doubted. 
 
 " Your friend was no' sae wrong after all." 
 
 Devina spoke with feigned composure. In her 
 heart she longed to make amends, for her conscience 
 pricked her. Toddie listened breathlessly. Avoid- 
 ing his eyes, she continued: 
 
 " I won't deny that I thought it weel, not noble, 
 but decent of ye though, mind ye, I never said it." 
 
 Gladness and relief positively radiated from every 
 inch of Toddie's person. 
 
 " If it 's been me that 's caused you to give up 
 the drink, and and to clean yerself , I 'm glad 
 though " catching sight of his expression she made 
 haste to qualify her approval by adding " I think 
 you might have shaved the day." 
 
 " But I have ! See here ! Can ye not see ? " 
 
 She inspected him closer. 
 
 (t Aye, now ye hold yer face like that I can see 
 ye 've been at it. But, ma word. Ye 've made a 
 poor job of it. The one side's no' that bad, but 
 the ither 's like an auld scrubbin' brush ! I 'm glad 
 I 'm not a man. It 's a mercy naebody kisses ye." 
 
 286
 
 TODDIE 
 
 She broke off in consternation. Her color again 
 flamed high. Then, distressfully conscious of blush- 
 ing, and embarrassed by his silent inspection, woman- 
 like she vented her feelings upon him. 
 
 " What are ye starin' at? " 
 
 "At you. You're in the right. I'm no' verra 
 weel acquaint wi' kisses. Nae doot if I 'd onybody to 
 kiss me I 'd shave closer. But I 'm glad you 
 care. Ye see, I 've never had naebody all ma life 
 to care how I look. Bob 's awful unobservant. When 
 ye live wi' a body like that it makes ye indifferent." 
 
 " I wonder you 're not particular for yer ain sake 
 out of self-respect. D' ye never look in the 
 glass ? " 
 
 " No' verra often. When a body 's bristly it 's 
 kind of discouragin'." 
 
 " I 'm amazed to hear ye." 
 
 " Aye, I daresay. Now you " he gazed at her 
 with admiration " nae doot you 're always lookin' 
 in the glass." 
 
 " Why d' ye say that? " She frowned at him sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " You 're that bonnie." 
 
 The compliment slipped out almost unawares. So 
 simply and from his heart did it spring, that Toddie 
 seemed to be thinking aloud, rather than uttering 
 premeditated words. But no sooner had he spoken, 
 than, recognizing the significance of his remarks, he 
 
 287
 
 TODDIE 
 
 stopped himself abruptly, a look of consternation in 
 his eyes. 
 
 Was that a compliment? He feared it. That he 
 should think it, was inevitable, but that he should be 
 brazen enough to utter it, was inexcusable. It was an 
 unheard-of liberty. She would be indignant. He 
 was in for it now. With his eyes fixed on her, he 
 waited anxiously. 
 
 But Devina had quickly averted her face. Was 
 she afraid to let him see how deeply the simple little 
 speech had touched her how eagerly welcome to 
 ears unaccustomed to compliments was this spontane- 
 ous proof of his admiration? Perhaps. 
 
 The low winter's sun had sunk behind the sand- 
 hills, so that the shingle whereon they stood had 
 already withdrawn into shadow. The golden rays, 
 however, passing directly over their heads, fell full 
 upon the lines of advancing breakers, lending an 
 indescribable glory to the crests that leapt at the 
 light. Far out on the billowy blue, sea-birds hov- 
 ered, fishing. The pure expanse of heaven was 
 flecked only by one cloud, so diaphanous in texture, 
 and delicate in hue, as to appear fashioned from 
 dreams in the heart of a rose. No signs of human 
 lif e were to be seen. They were alone on that deso- 
 late golden beach. 
 
 The magic of the hour whispered to them of love 
 suggested tender analogies between the day that 
 
 288
 
 TODDIE 
 
 died in beauty before their eyes, and the day that 
 dawned in rapture within their hearts. Nature called 
 to them, as she calls to us all when love beckons, but 
 neither could respond. The time was not yet. 
 Would it ever come? Neither knew. Yet there was 
 a tension in the air, a thrill of suspense, a tremble 
 of anticipation, a sickness of incertitude. One of 
 those wonderful moments encountered how rarely ! 
 when life seems to stand breathless, conscious of 
 its heart-beats, before some unimagined opportunity, 
 pregnant with fate, dimly recognized, yet vital, sol- 
 emn, all-important. Both felt it. Each in his or 
 her own way. Yet each with poignancy, almost 
 with suffering. For great emotions cannot be born 
 without stress of soul. At the birth of love, as of a 
 child, there is pain. 
 
 289
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 MOVED by a mutual impulse they slowly quitted 
 the shore, and, having gained the summit of 
 the cliffs, seated themselves on a boulder still warm 
 with sun. 
 
 The scene that unrolled itself before them was 
 one of indescribable loveliness. Beneath, heaved the 
 sea, partly in light, partly in shadow. Facing them, 
 on the far side of the bay, the hills of Forfarshire 
 extended along the blue horizon, alluring and beckon- 
 ing like the delectable mountains of some promised 
 land. But by far the most noteworthy feature was 
 the town itself. The atmosphere was clear, yet for 
 some reason the smoke from the chimneys clung to 
 the many houses, swathing them in filmy folds, en- 
 dowing them with a certain mysterious quality of 
 unreality. Crowning the cliffs stood this phantom 
 city, comparable only to the aerial palaces begirt 
 with battlements, which we all have seen in the light 
 of strange sunsets, and from which we all people 
 with dreams till the twilight steals them from us. 
 
 *' It 's better nor a pictur'," murmured Toddle, 
 290
 
 TODDIE 
 
 but he instinctively turned from it to his companion's 
 face. 
 
 " Aye," assented Devina. She spoke like one in a 
 dream. 
 
 For awhile they conversed in low tones. 
 
 Devina had grown strangely monosyllabic, op- 
 pressed by the tumultuous and incoherent agitation 
 of her thoughts, overcome by unfamiliar shyness, 
 strangely troubling, yet strangely sweet. She 
 could not trust herself to volunteer a remark, or even 
 to look at Toddie; the one preoccupation that ab- 
 sorbed her every energy was to cling desperately to 
 the shreds of self-control that she felt were slipping, 
 slipping away from her, and, above all, to conceal 
 her weakness from her companion. 
 
 Her propinquity moved Toddie profoundly. Her 
 presence, intensely realized, intoxicated his brain like 
 strong wine. Not only her mysterious soul endeared 
 itself inexpressibly to him, but her person also, and 
 even her dress. Everything about her became the 
 recipient of a reverence too deep for words. And 
 as material surroundings at rare moments become a 
 part of all that one feels, so that the scent of a 
 flower or the strain of a song has the witchcraft irre- 
 sistibly to recall the past, so in Toddie's mind the 
 deep note of the sea, the brine upon his lips, the sun- 
 light gilding the waves, all became one in beauty and 
 
 291
 
 TODDIE 
 
 treasured remembrance with the face of the woman 
 by his side. They were but platitudes he uttered 
 
 but do not the most trivial sentences oftentimes 
 conceal the. deepest feelings? 
 
 " It 's queer how things turn oot," Toddie haz- 
 arded at length. 
 
 " Aye," assented Devina again. 
 
 " That day in yer kitchen d' ye mind it? " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " The time I was wet and ye gave me tea." 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " Weel, if onybody had told me then that you and 
 me would be sittin' here like like this, I wouldna 
 have believed them ; would you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 Another silence. 
 
 " It 's not bein' here only onybody could be that 
 
 but it 's it 's what I 'm feelin'." 
 He paused, but she made no comment. 
 
 *' Aye," he nodded, then looked at her nervously, 
 suddenly conscious of a hammering in his breast, 
 overpowered by emotions that urged him to speak 
 yet which stifled him before he could give them utter- 
 ance, with no thought, no wish, no desire, but to give 
 birth to the oppression that labored in travail within 
 his heart. 
 
 Bob, peculiarly sensitive to the inflections of his 
 master's voice, looked up in Toddie's face, then crept 
 
 292
 
 TODDIE 
 
 close to the beloved presence. The action was elo- 
 quent of sympathy. It said : " I am here." 
 
 " It 's what I 'm f eelin'," repeated Toddie labor- 
 iously, intent only on Devina. "Aye, it's what 
 I 'm feelin'." 
 
 He broke off, for his throat was dry, and the words 
 refused to come. 
 
 Would she help him she who had always taken 
 the lead, she who was so much wiser and better than 
 he she who always seemed to know what to do 
 and say? But no. Devina sat motionless by his 
 side, her eyes downcast, her breath suspended, an 
 indescribable look on her face. Was she feeling too ? 
 Toddie scarcely dared to hope it. And yet he had 
 never seen her like this. He gazed at her with awe. 
 She inspired him with emotion that unmanned him. 
 Nervously he cleared his throat. 
 
 " I 've made an awful mistake. Aye, ever since 
 I was a laddie. I thought women couldna be trusted. 
 I ken better now." 
 
 He paused, passed a hand across his damp fore- 
 head, then continued: 
 
 " Never think I 'm tryin' to excuse maself . Na, 
 it 's no' a thing ye can excuse. It 's just a sort o' 
 insult a man has to give his life to make folk forget. 
 The way I 've talked ! Aye, mony and mony a time. 
 I'm just fair ashamed of it now. But ye '11 never 
 forgive that, Devina ? "
 
 TODDIE 
 
 She aroused herself with an effort. Her eyes met 
 his with one quick, searching look, then again sought 
 the ground. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Toddie drew a deep breath. 
 
 " I 'm glad," he said simply. " I had to tell ye, 
 for it 's you that I 've insulted all this while withoot 
 knowin' it ; aye, and more nor that, it 's you that 's 
 changed me." 
 
 The gloved hands upon the parasol trembled. 
 
 Toddie continued: 
 
 " Aye, it 's been all your work. It 's come on 
 gradual like, me bein' sort o' stony ground as the 
 Bible says, wi' a terrible lot o' weeds, too. But you 
 made me see what I was. Ye mind what you called 
 me?" 
 
 " Don't ! " she faltered, and there was pain in her 
 voice. 
 
 " But I will. I canna help it. I 'm proud of it 
 now. A disgrace. That was the word, and it suited 
 ine fine. I was a disgrace, and I never even sus- 
 pected it. But, please God, ye '11 never need to call 
 me that again.'* 
 
 His immense earnestness and the sincerity that rang 
 in every word he uttered moved her deeply in spite 
 of all her efforts to remain prejudiced, to be on her 
 guard. As she listened to him, as she realized his 
 worth, her doubts wavered and broke, her fears were 
 
 294
 
 TODDIE 
 
 lulled to sleep, the joy that she had sought to stifle 
 sang again in her heart. As she felt this joy, which 
 was a regeneration or upheaval of her whole nature, 
 Devina thrilled. 
 
 " Listen," she whispered. " You 've changed me, 
 too." 
 
 "Mel" 
 
 " Just you." 
 
 " It > S no' possible ! " 
 
 " It is. It 's true. I feel I must tell ye. Per- 
 haps ye didna ken, but once I thought I thought 
 I cared for some one. Maybe it was ma fault 
 whisht, dinna speak but it was a mistake, an' it 
 made me hard. Nae doot you 've noticed it." 
 
 No words contradicted her, but his face glowed 
 with the protest, the sympathy, and the devotion that 
 enveloped her as with an atmosphere. 
 
 She continued: 
 
 " It made me hard and unjust. You 're not the 
 only one that 's been to blame. I was blind. I 
 thought all men alike all bad, I mean. And more 
 when a woman's heart is sore she says things she 
 doesna mean. I said things against you." 
 
 "Did ye?" 
 
 "Aye. Once I called ye pitch." 
 
 " Weel, I deserved it." 
 
 " Ye did n't ! " She contradicted him hotly. " Ye 
 never deserved it. It was just wickedness on ma part. 
 
 295
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Aye, and envy. I felt often that miserable just to 
 think what a mess I 'd made of ma life, and to see 
 ithers gettin' all the attention, and me none. But " 
 her voice sank, and she looked studiously away. " But 
 even when I spoke most again' ye, I I aye liked ye 
 fine." 
 
 The pure color had risen to her face, and, softened 
 by the twilight, her profile showed dark yet distinct 
 against the rosy sky. Toddie's eye glistened. Some- 
 thing tumultuous swelled in his breast. The whis- 
 pered confession rang loud in his enraptured ears 
 like a blare from silver trumpets. It set his heart 
 ablaze. It filled his whole being with gladness, and 
 courage w and fresh life and delicious hope. The 
 world seemed suddenly to be re-born in beauty. All 
 inanimate things the sun, the sky, the very grass 
 at his feet re j oiced and exulted. 
 
 " And now " She made a gesture as though 
 dismissing the episode " Now I have to thank ye 
 and I feel I canna do it. I never was good at 
 speakin'. Oh, ye '11 never ken what this has been to 
 me ! You 're a man and canna tell what a woman 
 feels when she kens there 's somebody that under- 
 stands. It 's just everything. It wasna easy tellin' 
 ye. I never spoke sae free before never. I canna 
 think how ye made me. But I 'm glad. Nae 
 doot- " She paused, then in a forced voice con- 
 tinued hurriedly : " Nae doot we '11 no' meet often, 
 
 296
 
 TODDIE 
 
 but I '11 not forget this talk and all your kindness 
 and and that 's all, and now I must be gettin' 
 back." 
 
 Toddie started. A gulf of despair seemed to close 
 over him the sunlight to be blotted out. 
 
 Was this all? Was he to lose her now when she 
 had seemed so near? Yes, she had risen to her feet 
 she was preparing to go home. 
 
 A cry of passionate entreaty burst from him. 
 
 " Devina ! Stop ! I canna part from ye like 
 this!" 
 
 She did not speak, but she gazed at him steadily, 
 controlling herself with a great effort, and Toddie 
 will never forget the look within her eyes. 
 
 " Sit down," he said hoarsely. 
 
 Slowly, and still in silence she obeyed. 
 
 She was now sitting beside him, erect, her face 
 averted. A look of suspense, painful in its intensity, 
 imparted a strange, unnatural fixity to her features. 
 
 Toddie began to speak. The short and broken 
 sentences seemed to be forced from his vitals. They 
 trembled under the stress of violent emotion. The 
 whole man shook with a hope unnerving as fear, and 
 with a fear tremulous as hope. 
 
 " I 'm only a caddie. Not fit to clean yer boots. 
 But I think all the world of you. It's terrible 
 presumption, but I'd die for ye. Any good that's 
 in me is you. When I see ye it 's like heaven only 
 
 297
 
 TODDIE 
 
 bonnier. Devina I I Ma God, can ye no' see 
 what I 'm tryin' to tell ye I " 
 
 Despite her efforts at self-command, her bosom 
 heaved, and the parasol bent between her fingers. 
 
 Toddie leaned towards her. She felt his breath 
 upon her ear. The world swam before her eyes. 
 
 " Devina," he cried, and his voice was scarcely 
 recognizable, " Devina, will ye have me ? " 
 
 She shrank from him as though he had struck her, 
 then slowly facing him, came very near. He could 
 see her trembling. 
 
 " D' ye mean it? " she whispered. 
 
 " As God sees me," he replied solemnly. 
 
 " Oh, be careful, be careful," she cried, torn be- 
 tween longing and re-awakened fear. " Be sure, be 
 very sure. I was took in before. I thought ma 
 heart was killed. I canna go through with it again. 
 I 'd rather die. What 's a lassie's heart to some men ? 
 Just a plaything to dandle, to break, and to fling 
 away. But you " Her eyes searched his very 
 soul " I 've built high on you. You wouldna de- 
 ceive me, would ye and me trustin' ye ? " 
 
 But Toddie was past words. Fiercely he gripped 
 her arm. 
 
 " I see you would na ! " she cried, and her voice 
 broke into a laugh that was half a sob. " I see ye 
 would na. It 's come to me after all to me ! I 
 canna believe it. Me that thought naebody would 
 
 298
 
 TODDIE 
 
 ever care for me ! But, ye do ye do. Bob, come 
 here. Listen to what he says. Toddie, tell it me 
 again." 
 
 Softly twilight descended the hour of happy 
 illusions, for is not illusion itself a twilight of the 
 soul that we love to people with dreams? 
 
 Upon the summit of the cliff Devina and Toddie 
 still sat side by side. 
 
 Nothing is more eloquent, more exquisite than the 
 silence of those who love. Voluble with feelings too 
 heart-oppressed for expression, it soars far above 
 speech, for in silence alone does the soul become audi- 
 ble. More delicate, more intimate, more intense than 
 language ; its tender, hushed pauses comprise all 
 words, all passion, all adoration. It is to mere sound 
 what a tear is to laughter. The silence of lovers! 
 the infinite bending to listen it is eternity hold- 
 ing its breath. 
 
 At length Toddie, awakening from a dream of 
 happiness whispered: 
 
 " Devina." 
 
 His manner of enunciating her name caused her 
 to lean towards him. Even Bob, sitting between 
 them, wondered. 
 
 " Devina," he continued, " I 've somethin' to tell 
 
 ye." 
 
 " Yes, Toddie." 
 
 " I 'm af eared ye '11 no' like it." 
 299
 
 TODDIE 
 
 Devina smiled. 
 
 " It 's a fact. It 's botherin' me. It 's about the 
 Major and Miss Charity." 
 
 He paused, then emboldened by the dusk, con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " I meant to work honest with ye. Sure as death 
 I did, but somehow or ither, I changed ma mind." 
 
 "Did ye?" 
 
 " Ye ken how it was, you wantin' to save her, and 
 me him? " 
 
 " Aye." 
 
 " Weel, what with you, and me thinkin' aboot ye 
 all the time, I sort o' got sorry for the Major. I 
 seemed to see he didna need to be saved. I 've done 
 worse than that. I 've I 've told him to ask her." 
 
 Guilty, anxious, but secretly impenitent, Toddie 
 waited for the indignation he merited. 
 
 What was this? Devina was laughing! He 
 scarcely recognized the sound, so unusual was it, so 
 full of happiness. 
 
 " It that all? " she cried. 
 
 " All ! " 
 
 " Aye, if I 've onything to forgive, so have you." 
 
 " How 's that ? " he inquired, inexpressibly re- 
 lieved. 
 
 " I 've changed too. Aye, it was your fault, for 
 I was thinkin' about you." Her voice sank, and 
 she laid a hand upon his arm as he felt its light 
 
 300
 
 TODDIE 
 
 touch, there was no man in the whole world so proud 
 as Toddie. 
 
 " Yes," she continued softly, " thinkin' of you 
 made me see things too. What right had I to keep 
 her from happiness, her that young bonnie, and him 
 carin' for her. I 'm glad now, for I ken how she '11 
 be f eelin'. Ye see, I knew he meant to ask her a 
 woman kens these things fine so as the lassie has 
 nae mother and ought to be prepared, I just told her 
 to take him." 
 
 THE END 
 
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