Black_A_Princess_of_Thule.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
"Lochaber no more."
On a small headland of the distant Island of
Lewis, an old man stood looking out on a desolate
waste of rain-beaten sea. It was a wild and a wet day.
From out of the louring south-west, fierce gusts of
wind were driving up volumes and flying rags of cloud,
and sweeping onward at the same time the gathering
waves that feil hissing and thundering on the shore.
Far as the eye could reach, the sea and the air and
the sky seemed to be one indistinguishable mass of
whirling and hurrying vapour as if beyond this point
there were no more land, but only wind and water,
and the confused and awful voices of their strife.
The Short, thick-set, powerfuUy-built man who
stood on this solitary point, paid little attention to the
rain that ran off the peak of his sailor's cap, or to the
gusts of wind that blew about his bushy grey beard.
He was still following, with an eye accustomed to pick
out objects far at sea, one speck of purple that was
now fading into the grey mist of the rain; and the
longer he looked the less it became, until the mingled
sea and sky showed only the sm'oke that the great
steamer left in its wake. As he stood there, motion-
10 A PRINCESS OF THLE.
less and regardless of eveiything around him, did he
cling to the fancy that he could still trace out the
path of the vanished shipt A little while before, it
had passed almost close to him. He had watched it
steam out of Stomoway harbour. As the sound of the
engines came nearer, and the big boat went by, so
that he could have almost called to it, there was no
sign of emotion on the hard and stem face except,
perhaps, that the lips were held firm, and a soit of
frown appeared over the eyes. He saw a tiny white
handkerchief being waved to him from the deck of
the vessel; and he said almost as though he were
addressing some one there
"My good lass!"
But in the midst of that roaring of the sea and
the wind, how could any such message be delivered^
and already the steamer was away from the land,
Standing out to the lonely piain of waters , and the
sound of the engines had ceased, and the figures on
the deck had grown faint and visionary. But still
there was that one speck of white visible; and the man
knew that a pair of eyes that had many a time looked
into his own as if with a faith that such intercom-
munion could never be broken were now trying,
through over-flowing and blinding tears, to send him
a last look of farewelL
The grey mbts of the rain gathered within their
folds the big vessel, and all the beating heaits it con*
tained; and the fluttering of that little token disap-
peared with it All that remained was the sea whitened
by the rushing of the wind, and the thunder of waves
on the beach. The man who had been gazing so long
down into the south-east, tumed his face landward,
"LOCHABER NO MORE." II
and set out to walk over a tract of wet grass and sand,
towards a road that ran near by. There was a large
waggonette, of vamished oak, and a pair of small,
powerful horses waiting for him there; and, having dis-
missed the boy who had been in Charge, he took the
reins and got up. But even yet the fascination of the
sea and of that sad farewell was upon him; and he
turaed once more as if, now that sight could yield him
no further tidings, he would send her one more word
ofgood-bye.
"My poor little Sheila!" that was all he said; and
then he tumed to the horses, and sent them on, with
his head down to escape the rain, and a look on his
face like that of a dead man.
As he drove through the town of Stomoway, the
children playing within the shelter of the cottage doors,
called to each other in a whisper, and said
"That is the king of Borva."
But the elderly people said to each other, with a
shake of the head
"It iss a bad day, this day, for Mr. Mackenzie, that
he will be going home to an empty house. And it
will be a ferry bad thing for the poor folk of Borva,
and they will know a great difFerence, now that Miss
Sheila iss gone away, and there iss nobody not any-
body at all left in the island to tek the side o' the
poor folk."
He looked neither to the right nor to the left
though he was known to many of the people as he
drove away from the town into the heart of the lonely
and desolate land. The wind had so far died down,
and the rain had considerably lessened; but the gloom
of the sky was deepened by the drawing on of the
afternoon, and lay heavily over the dreary wastes of
moor and hil!. What a wild and dismal country was
this which lay before and all around him, now that the
last traces of human occupation were passed! There
was not a cottage, not a stone wall, not a fence to
break the monotony of the long undulations of moor-
land, which, in the distance, rose into a series of hills
that were black under the darkened sky. Down frora
those mountains, ages ago, glaciers had slowly crepl
to eat out hoUows in the plains below; and now, in
iose hoUows were lonely lakes, with not a tree to
break the line of their melancholy shores, Everywhere
aro\ind were the traces of the glacier-drift- greaC grey
boulders of gneiss fixed fast into the black peat-raoss,
or set amid the browns and greens of the heather.
The only sound to be heard in this wilderness of rock
and raorass, was the nishing of various streams, rain-
swollen and turbid, that plunged down their narrow
Channels to the sea.
The rain now ceased altogether; biit the mountains
in the far south had grown still darker; and, to the
fisherman passing by the coast, it must have seemed
as though the black peaks were holding converse with
the louring clouds, and that the siient moorland
beneath was wairing for the first roll of the thunder.
The man who was driving along the lonely route
soraetimes cast a glance down towards this threaten-
ing of a storm; but he paid little heed to it. The
reins lay loose on the backs of the horses; and at their
own pace they foilowed, hour after hour, the rising
and falling road that led through the moorland and
past the gloomy lakes. He may liave recalied
niechanically the names of those Stretches of water
^ta
"LOCHABER NO MORE." I3
the Lake of the Sheiling, the Lake of the Oars, the
Lake of the Fine Sand, and so forth to measure the
distance he had traversed; but he seemed to pay little
attention to the objects around him, and it was with
a glance of something like surprise that he suddenly
found himself overlooking that great sea-loch on the
westem side of the Island in which was his home.
He drove down the hill to the solitary little inn of
Ganra-na-hina. At the door, muffled up in a warm
wooUen plaid, stood a young girl, fair-haired, blue-
eyed, and diffident in look.
"Mr. Mackenzie/' she said, with that peculiar and
pleasant intonation that marks the speech of the
Hebridean who has been taught English in the
schools, "it wass Miss Sheila wrote to me to Suainabost,
and she said I might come down again from Suainabost
and see if I can be of any help to you in the house "
The girl was crying, although the blue eyes looked
bravely through the tears as if to disprove the fact
"Ay,' my good lass," he said, putting his band
gently onher head, "and it wass Sheila wrote to you?"
"Yes, sir, and I hef come down from Suainabost."
"It is a lonely house you will be going to," he
said, absently. "When you wass staying with us
before, there wass some one in the house that you
would be talking with. Now it will be ferry different
for you."
"But Miss Sheila said I wass I wass to " but
here the young girl failed in her efFort to explain that
Miss Sheila had asked her to go down to make the
house less lonely. The elderly man in the waggonette
seemed scarcely to notice that she was crying; he bade
her come up beside him; and when he had got her
14 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
into the waggonette, he left some message with the
innkeeper, who had come to the door, and drove off
again.
They drove along the high land that overlooks a
portion of Loch Roag, with its wonderful network of
Islands and straits; and then they stopped on the lofty
plateau of Callemish, where there was a man waiting
to take the waggonette and horses.
"And you would be seeing Miss Sheila away, sirl"
said the man, "and it wass Duncan Macdonald will
say that she will not come back no more to Borva."
The old man with the big grey beard only
frowned and passed on. He and the girl made their
way down the side of the rocky hill to the shore; and
here there was an open boat awaiting them. When
they approached, a man considerably over six feet in
height, keen-faced, grey-eyed, straight-limbed, and
sinewy in frame, jumped into the big and rough boat,
and began to get ready for their departure. There was
just enough wind to catch the brown mainsail; and
the King of Borva took the tiller, his henchman sitting
down by the mast. And no sooner had they left the
shore and stood out towards one of the Channels of
this arm of the sea, than the tall, spare keeper began
to talk of that which made his master's eye grow dark.
"Ah, well," he said, in the plaintive drawling of
his race, "and it iss an emptyhouse you will be going
to, Mr. Mackenzie, and it iss a bad thing for us all
that Miss Sheila hass gone away and it iss many's
ta time she will hef been wis me in this very
boat "
" ^you, Duncan Macdonald!" cried
Mackenzie, in an access of fury, "what will you talk
"LOCHABER NO MORE." I5
of like thati It iss every man, woman, and child on
the island will talk of nothing but Sheila! I will drive
my foot through the bottom of the boat, if you do not
hold your peace!"
The tall gillie patiently waited until his master
bad exhausted his passion, and then he said, as if
nothing had occurred
"And it will not do much good, Mr. Mackenzie,
to tek ta name o' Kott in vain and there will be
feny much more of that now since Miss Sheila iss
gone away, and there will be much more of trinking
in ta island, and it will be a great diflference, mirover.
And she will be so far away that no one will see
her no more far away beyond ta Sound of Sleat,
and far away beyond Oban, as I hef heard people
say. And what will she do in London, when she
has no boat at all, and she will never go out to
ta fishing, and I will hear people say that you will
walk a whole day and never come to ta sea, and what
will Miss Sheila do for that? And she will tame no
more o' ta wild ducks' young things, and she will find
out no more o' ta nests in the rocks, and she will hef
no more homs when the deer is killed, and she will
go out no more to see ta cattle swim across Loch
Roag when they go to ta sheilings. It will be all
different, all different now; and she will never see us
no more and it iss as bad as if you wass a poor
man, Mr. Mackenzie, and had to let your sons and
your daughters go away to America, and never come
back no more. And she ta only one in your house,
and it wass the son o' Mr. Macint3rre of Sutherland he
would hef married her, and come to live on ta island;
and not hef Miss Sheila go away among strangers that
l6 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
doesna ken her family, and will put no stre by her,
no more than if she wass a fisherman's lass. It wass
Miss Sheila herseif had a sore heart tis moming when
she went away and she tumed and she looked at
Borva as the boat came away and I said tis is the
last time Miss Sheila will be in her boat, and she will
not come no more again to Borva."
Mr. Mackenzie heard not one word or syllable of
all this. The dead, passionless look had fsdlen over
the powerful features; and the deep-set eyes were
gazing, not on the actual Loch Roag before them, but
on the stormy sea that lies between Lewis and Skye,
and on a vessel disappearing in the mist of the rain
It was by a sort of instinct that he guided this open
boat through the Channels, which were now getting
broader as they neared the sea; and the tall and.
grave-faced keeper might have kept up his garm-
lous talk for hours, without attracting a look or a
word.
It was now the dusk of the evening, and wild and
Strange, indeed, was the scene around the solitary boat
as it slowly moved along. Large islands so large
that any one of them might have been mistaken for
the mainland lay over the dark waters of the sea,
remote, untenanted and silent There were no white
cottages along these rocky shores only a succession
of rugged clifFs and sandy bays but half mirrored in
the sombre water below. Down in the south the
mighty Shoulders and peaks of Suainabhal and his
brother mountains were still darker than the darkening
sky; and when, at length, the boat had got well out
from the network of islands, and fronted the broad
waters of the Atlantic, the great piain of the westem
"LOCHABER NO MORE." 17
sea seemed already to have drawn around it the solemn
mantle of the night
"Will ye go to Borvabost, Mr. Mackenzie, or will
we nin her into your own house?" asked Duncan
Borvabost being ie name of the chief village on the
Island.
"I will not go on to Borvabost," said the old man,
peevishly. "Will they not hef plenty to talk about at
Borvabost?"
"And it iss no hrm that ta folk will speak of Miss
Sheila,'* said the gillie, with some show of resentment,
"it iss no hrm, they will be sony she is gone away
no hrm at all for it wass many things they had
to thank Miss Sheila for and now it will be all ferry
different "
"I teil you, Duncan Macdonald, to hold your
peacel" said the old man, with a savage glare of the
deep-set eyes; and then Duncan relapsed into a sulky
sQence, and the boat held on its way.
In the gathering twilight a long grey curve of sand
became visible, and into the bay thus indicated, Mac-
kenzie tumed his small craft This indentation of the
island seemed as blank of human occupation as the
various points and bays they had passed; but as they
neared the shore a house came into sight, about half-
way up the slope rising from the sea to the pasture-
land above. There was a small stone pier jutting out
at one portion of the bay, where a mass of rocks was
imbedded in the white sand; and here at length the
boat was run in, and Mackenzie helped the young girl
ashore.
The two of them leaving the gillie to moor the
little vessel that had brought them from Callemish
A Princns of ThnU. /. 2
l8 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
wect sikntly towards the shore, and up the n.irrow
road leading to the house. It was a square, two-
storeyed aubstantial building of stone; but the slone
had been liberally oiled to keep out the wet, and the
blackoess thu3 produced had not a very cheerful look.
Then, on this particular evening, the scant bushea
siUTOunding the house huog limp and dark in
rainj and amid the prevailing hues of purple, blue-
green, and blue, the bit of scarlet coping running
round the black house was wholly ineffective in re-
lieving the general Impression of dreariness and deso-
The King of Borva walked into a large room,
which was but partially ht by two candles on the
table, and by the blaze of a mass of peats in the stonfi
fireplace, and threw himself into a big easy-chair.
Then he suddenly seeraed to recoUect bis companion,
who was timidly Standing oear the door, with her
shawl still round her head.
"Matri," he said, "go and ask them to give you
some diy clothes. Your box it will not be here tot*
half-an-hour yeL"
Then he tumed to the fire.
"But yoa yoarself, Mr. Mackenzie, you will be
ferry wet "
"Never mind me.my lass go and get yourself dried,'
"But it wass Miss Sheila," began the girl, diffl-
dently, "it wass Miss Sheila asked nie she asked
to look after you, sir "
Wilh that he rose abruptly, and advanced to her,
and caught her by the wrist. He spoke quite quietly
to her, but the girl's eyes, looking up at the stern.
face, were a trifte frightened.
"LOCHABER NO MORE." ^ IQ
*Yott are a ferry good little girl, Mairi," he said,
slowly, "and you will mind what I say to you. You
wl do what you like in the house you hef been in
the house before and you will know what to do you
will take Sheila's place as much as you like but you
wl mind this, not to mention her name, not once. Now
go away, Mairi, and find Scarlett Macdonald , and she
will give you some dry clothes; and you will teil her
to send Duncan down to Borvabost, and bring up
John the Piper, and Alister-nan-Each, and the lads of
ie Nighean dubhj if they are not gone home to
Habost yet But it iss John the Piper must come
directly.**
The girl went away to seek counsel of Scarlett
Macdonald, Duncan's wife; and Mr. Mackenzie pro-
ceeded to walk up and down the big and half-lit
diamber. Then he went to a cupboard, and put out
OD the table a number of tumblers and glasses, with
two or tree odd-looking bottles of Norwegian make
consisting of four semicircular tubes of glass meeting
at top and bottom, leaving the centre of the vessel
thus formed open. He stirred up the blazing peats
in the fireplace. He brought down from a shelf a tin
box filled with coarse tobacco, and put it on the
table. But he was evidently growing impatient; and
at last he put on his cap again and went out into the
night
The air blew cold in from the sea, and whistled
tfarough the bushes that Sheila had trained about the
pcffch. There was no rain now, but a great and
heavy darkness brooded overhead; and in the silence
he could hear the breaking of the waves along the hard
ooast But what was this other sound he heard wild
20 A PRIVCESS OF THULE.
and Strange in the stillness of the night a shrill and
plaintive cry that the distance softened until it almost
seemed to be the calling of a human voice) Surciy
those were words that he heard, or was it only that thfi
oid, sad air spoke to him^
that was the niessage that came to him out of the
darkness, and it seemed to him as if the sea, and the
night, and the sky were wailing over the lo5S of his
Sheila. He walked away from the house, and up the
hin behind. Led by the sound of the pipes, that grew
luder and more unearthly as he approached
found hiroself at length on a bit of high table-land
overlooking Ihe sea, where Sheila had had a rde
bench of iron and wood fixed into the rock. On this
bench sat a little old man, hump-backed and bent,
with long white haii falling down to his Shoulders.
He was playing the pipes not wildly and fiercely as
if he were at a drinkiog-bout of the lads conae home
from the Caithness fishing, nor yet gaily and proudly
as if he were marching at the head of a bridal pro^
cession, but siowly, mournfuUy, monotonously, as though
he were having the pipes talk to him.
Mackenzie touched him on the Shoulder, and th
old man started.
"Is it you, Mr. Mackenziel" he said, in Gaelic,
is a great fright you have given me."
"Come down to the house, John. The lads front
Habost, and AHster, and some more will be coi
and you will gel a ferry good dram, John, to put wint
in the pipes."
"It is no dram I am thinking of, Mr. Macken^ie,"
''LOCHABER NO MORE." 21
Said the old man. "And you will have plenty of Com-
pany without me. But I will come down to the house,
Mr. Mackenzie oh, yes. I will come down to the
house but in a Utile while I will come down to the
house."
Mackenzie tumed from him with a petulant excla-
mation, and went along and down the hill rapidly, as
he could hear voices in the darkness. He had just got
into the house, when his visitors arrived. The door
of the room was opened, and there appeared some six
or eight tall and stalwart men, mostly with profuse
brown beards and weather-beaten faces, who advanced
into the Chamber with some show of sh3aiess. Mac-
kenzie offered them a rough and hearty welcome; and,
as soon as their eyes had got accustomed to the light,
bade them help themselves to the whisky on the table.
With a certain solemnity each poured out a glass, and
drank ^Shlaintel^^ to his host as if it were some funeral
rite. But when he bade them replenish their glasses,
and got them seated with their faces to the blaze of
the peats, then the flood of Gaelic broke loose. Had
the wise little girl from Suainabost wamed those big
mcnt There was not a word about Sheila uttered.
AU their talk was of the reports that had come from
Caithness, and of the improvements of the small har-
bour near the Butt, and of the black sea-horse that
had been seen in Loch Suainabhal, and of some more
sheep having been found dead on the Flannen Isles,
shot by the men of the English smacks. Pipes were
lit, the peats stirred up anew, another glass or two of
whisky drunk, and then, through the haze of the smoke,
the browned faces of the men could be seen in eager
controversy, each talking faster than the other, and
22 A PRINCESS OF THVLE.
comparing facts and fancies that iiad been brooded
over through solitary nights of waitiog on the sea.
Mackenzie did not sit down with them he did not .
even join them in their attention to the curious whisky-
flasks. He paced up and down the opposite side of
the room, occasionally being appealed to with a stoiy
or a question, and showing by his answers that he was
but vaguely hearing the vociferous talk of his com-
panions. At last he said
"Why the teffle does not John the Piper comel
Here, you men you sing a song quickl None of'
your funetal songs, but a good brisk one of trinking
and fighting!"
But were not nearly all their songs like those of
most dwellers on a rocky and dangerous coast of a.
sad and sombre hue, telling of maidens whose lovers'
were drowned, and of wives bidding fareweil to hus-
bands they were never to see againi Slow and mourn-
ful aie the songs that the northem fisherraen sing as they
set out in the evening, with the creaking of their long
oars keeping time to the music, unlil ihey get out
beyond the shore to holst the red mainsail and catch
the breeze blowing over from the regions of the sun-
set. Not one of ihese Habost fishermen could sing a
brisk soog; but the nearest approach to it was a bailad
in praise of a dark-haired girl, which they, owning the
Nighean dubk, were bound to know. And so one
young fellow began to sing
"Mo NigAian dubh iTuts boidhtack Judk,
Ma Nigkiat dubh na Ircig mi,"
in a slow and doleful fashion, and the others joined
"My blick-haired girL my prcK prl, my hlack-hMtcd girl, don'i leave
ms." A^itwi itutA b pmiiDiincei] ffyian dn
"LOCHABER NO MORE." 23
in the chorus with a like solemnity. In order to keep
time, four of the men followed the common custom of
taking a pocket handkerchief (in this case, an im-
mense piece of brilliant red silk, which was evidently
the pride of its owner), and holding itby the four
comers, letting it slowly rise and fall as they sang.
The other three men laid hold of a bit of rope, which
they used for the same purpose. ^^Mo Nighean dubhj^
onHke most of the Gaelic songs, has but a few verses;
and as soon as they were finished, the young fellow,
who seemed pleased with his Performances, started an-
odier ballad. Perhaps he had forgotten his hosf s in-
janction; perhaps he knew no merrier song; but, at
any rate, he began to sing the "Lament of Monaltrie."
It was one of Sheila's songs. She had sung it the
night before in this very room; and her father had
listened to her describing the fate of young Monaltrie
as if she had been foretelling her own, and scarcely
dared to ask himself if ever again he should hear the
voice that he loved so well. He could not listen to
the song. He abruptly left the room, and went out
once more into the cool night air and the dark-
ness. But even here he was not allowed to for-
get the sorrow he had been vainly endeavouring to
banish; for in the far distance the pipes still played
tiie melancholy wail of Lochaber. ^^Lochaber no morel
Lochaber no morel** that was the only solace brought
him by the winds from the sea; and there were tears
running down the hard grey face as he said to him-
self, in a broken voice
"Sheila, my good lass, why did you go away from
Bonrar
JJCK5S l
l'MULE.
^^^V CHAFTER II,
^^^^^V The Fair-haired StraneEr.
^^^^ft. "Why, you muBt be in love with her yourselft" ',
^^^^K, "I in love wilh her? Sheila and 1 axe too cA
^^^^JlBiends for thatl"
P The speaiers were Iwo young men, seated in th
Stern of the steamer Clansman, as she ploughed hf
way across the blue and rusliing waters of the Mind
One of them was a tall young feUow of ihree-ans
twenty, with fair hair, and light blue eyes, whose d(
licate and mobile features were handsome enoiigh
their way, and gave evideace of a nature at onq
sensitive, nervous, and impulsive. He was clad q
light grey from head to heel a colour that suited hj
fair complexion and yellow hairj and he lounged aboij
the white deck in the glare of the sunlight, steadyiai
himself from time to time, as an unusually big wavj
canied the Clansman aloft fot a second or two, am
then sent her staggering and groaning into a hissiDj
trough of foam. Now and again he would pause i
front of his companion, and talk in a rapid, playfu
and even eloquent fashion for a minute or two; ani
then, apparently a trifle annoyed by the slow am
palient attention which greeted his oratorical effort(
would Start off once more on his unsteady joumey \s_
and down the white planks. ,
The other was a man of thirty-eight, of middl
height, sallow complexion, and generally insignilican
appearance, His hair was becoming prematutely grej
kHe rarely spoke. He was dressed in a suit of rougl
THE FAIR*HAIRD STRANGER. 25
who had gone ashore, taken to study, and never re-
covered himself. A stranger would have noticed the
tall and fair young man, wbo walked up and down
the gleaming deck, evidently enjo3ring the brisk breeze
that blew about bis yellow bair, and tbe sunligbt tbat
toucbed bis pale and fine face, or sparked on bis
teetb wben be laugbed, but would bave paid little
attention to tbe smaller, brown-faced, brown-bearded,
grey-baired man, wbo lay back on tbe bencb witb bis
two bands clasped round bis knee, and witb bis eyes
fixed on tbe soutbem beavens, wbile be murmured to
himself tbe lines of some ridiculous old Devonsbire
ballad, or replied in monosyllables to tbe rapid and
eager talk of bis friend.
Botb men were good sailors, and tbey bad need
to be, for, altbougb tbe sky above tbem was as blue
and clear as tbe beart of a sapphire, and altbougb tbe
sunligbt sbone on tbe decks and tbe rigging, a strong
nortb-easter bad been blowing all tbe moming, and
there was a considerable sea on. Tbe far blue piain
was wbitened witb tbe tumbling crests of tbe waves, tbat
shone and sparkled in tbe sun; and ever and anon a
volume of water would strike the Clansman's bow, rise
high in tbe air witb tbe shock, and fall in beavy
showers over the forward decks. Sometimes, too, a
wave caught her broadside, and sent a bandful of
spray over the two or three passengers who were safe
in the stem; but tbe decks here remained silvery and
white, for tbe sun and wind speedily dried up tbe
traces of tbe sea-sbowers.
At lengtb tbe taller of tbe young men came and
sat down by bis companion.
"How far to Storno way, yeti"
a6 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
"An hour."
"By Jove, what a distance! All day yesterday
gelting up from Oban to Skye, all last night chuming
our way up to Loch Gair, all to-day crossing to thia
outlandish island, that aeems as far away as Iceland
and for what?"
"But don't you remember the tnoonlight last nighlj
as we sailed by the CuchuUinsl And the sunrise tbis
morning as we lay in lAJch Gairl Were not theae
worth Coming fori"
"But that was not what you carae for, my deat
friend. No. You came to carry off this wonderful
Miss Sheila of yours, and of course you wanted some-
body to look on, and here I am, ready to carry the
ladder, and the dark lantem, and the marriage-licence.
I will saddle your steeds for you, and row you over
lakes, and generally do anything to help you in so
romantic an enterprise."
"It is very kind of you, Lavender," said the other,
with a smile; "but such adventures are not for old
fogies like me. They ar-e the exclusive right of young
fellows like you, who are tall and well-favoured , have
plenty of money and good spirits, and have a way
with you that all the worid admires. Of course the
bride will tread a measure with you. Of course all
the bridesmaids would like to see you marry her.
And of course she will taste the cup you offer her.
Then a word in her ear and away you go as if it
were the most natural thing in the world, and as if
the bridegroom was a despicable creature merely be-
cause God had only given him five feet six inches.
But you couldn't have a Lochinvar five feet six."
The younger man blushed like a girl, and laughed
THE FIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 2*]
a lite, and was evidently greatly pleased. Nay, in
the height of his generosity he began to protest. H
would not have his friend imagine that women cared
only for stature and good looks. There were other
qaalities. He himself had observed the most singular
conquests made by men who were not good-looking,
bt who had a certain fascination about them. His
own experience of women was considerable, and he
was quite certain that the best women, now the sort
of women whom a man would respect the women
who had brains
And so forth, and so forth. The other listened
quite gravely to these well-meant, kindly, blundering
explanations; and only one who watched his face nar-
rowly could have detected, in the brown eyes, a sort
of amused consciousness of the intention of the miable
and ingenuous youth.
"Do you really mean to teil me, Ingram," con-
tinued Lavender, in his rapid and impetuous way, "do
you mean to teil me that you are not in love with this
Highland princessl For ages back you have talked
of nothing but Sheila. How many an hour have I
spent in clubs, up the river, down at the coast, every-
where, listening to your stories of Sheila, and your
praises of Sheila, and your descriptions of Sheila. It
was always Sheila, and again Sheila, and still again
Sheila. But, do you know, either you exaggerated, or
I failed to understand your descriptions; for the Sheila
I came to construct out of your talk is a most in-
congruous and incomprehensible creature. First, Sheila
knows about stone and lime and building; and then I
suj^)Ose her to be a practical young wman, who is a
sort of overseer to her father. But Sheila, a^m, \^
28 A PKlNCS F THULE.
romaatic and niysterious, and believes in visions and
drearas; and then I take her to be an affected school-
miss. But then Sheila can throw a fly and play her
sixteen-pounder, and Sheila can adventure upon the
lochs in an open boat, noanagiog the sail herseif; and
then I find her to be a tom-boy. Again, however,
Sheila is shy and rarely speaks, but looks unutterable
tliings with her soft and magnificent eyes; and what
does that mean, but tbat she is an ordinary young
lady, who has.not been in society, and who is a little
interesting, if a Jittle stupid, while she is unmarried,
and wbo, after marriage, calmly and complacently
sinks into the dull doraestic hind, whose only thought
is of butcher's bil!s and perambulators."
This was a fairly long speech; but it was no longer
than many which Frank Lavender was accustomed to
utter when in the vein for taltcing. His friend and
companion did not pay much heed. His hands were
still ctasped round his knee, his head leaning backj
and all the answer he made was to repeat apparently
to himself these not vety pertinent lines
"JuOckingtm, Bi Oivemhftr,
My vatfr At Uvid vof tnat^ ayffrj
And 1 kis stm, with hJfn tfiddwgll,
Tt Itndli shrtfi! 'Auu Mc/bIvikU.
Diddlc-diddler
"You know, Ingram, it must be precious hard for
a man who has to knock about in society, and take
his wife with him, to have to explain to everybody
that she is in reality a most unusual and gifted young
person, and that she must not be expected to talk. It
is all very well for him in his own house^that is to
say, if he can preserve all the sentiment that made her
s fine and wonderful before their marriage; but
THE FAIR-HAIRED StRANGER. 2g
a man owes a little to society, even in choosing a
wife."
Another pause
" // happenedoH a Martin day,
Four score o* the sheep they rinued asiray ^
Says vaiher to /, * Jack, rin arter 'w, du V
SeM I to vatMer, * l'm damed ij J doV
DiddU-diddUr
*^Now you are the sort of man, I should think,
who would never get careless about your wife. You
would always believe about her what you believed at
first; and I daresay you would live veiy happily in
jour own house if she was a decent sort of woman.
But you would have to go out into society sometimes;
and the very fact that you had not got careless as
many men would, leaving their wives to produce any
sort of impression they might would make you vexed
that the world could not ofF-hand value your wife as
you fancy she ought to be valued. Don't you seel"
This was the answer
** Purvoket tnucA at nty rde tongue,
A disk d brath at me he vlung;
Which so incensed me to turathy
That 1 afi knack vn insUmtly to arth.
DiddU-diddler
**As for your Princess Sheila, I firmly believe you
have some romantic notion of marrying her, and taking
her up to London with you. If you seriously intend
such a thing, I shall not argue with you. I shall praise
her by the hour together; for I may have to depend
on Mrs. Edward Ingram for my admission to your
house. But if you only have the fancy as a fancy,
coosider what the result would be. You say she has
never been to a school that she has never had the
companionship of a girl of her own age that she has
JO A PRINCE3S OF THULE.
never read a newspaper that she lias never been out
of Ulis Island and that almost her sole society has
been that of her mother, who educated her, and tended
her, and left her as Ignorant of the real world as if
she had lived all her life in a lighthouse. Goodness
gracious! what a figiire such a girl would cut in South
Kensington "
"My dear fellow," said Ingram, at last, "don't be
absurd, You wil! soon see what are the relations be-
twcen Sheila Mackenzie and me, and you will be
satisiied. I marry her) Do you think I would take
the child to London to show her its extravagance and
shallow society, and break her heart wilh thinking of
the aea, and of the rde islanders she knew, and of
their hard and bitter stniggle for lifel No. I should
not like to see my wild Highland doe shut up in one
of your southem parks, among yoar tarne fallow deer.
She would look at them askance. She would separate
herseif from them; and by-and-by she would make
one wild efTort to escape and kill herseif. That is
not the fate in stre for our good little Sheila; so you
need not make yourself unhappy about her or me,
" NtTv aU ye yovng mtn, t^ tvtry ^trsuasbi,
Never quartwf yeurvaik^rMfioina^ xcaxioH;
DiddU-dlddUl"
Talking of Devonshire, how is that young American
lady you met at Torquay in the spring 1"
"There, now, is the aoit of woman a man would
be safe in manying."
"And howl"
"Oh, well, you know," said Frank Lavender, "I
mean the sort of woman who would do you credit-
THfi FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 3I
hold her own in society, and that sort of thing. You
must meet her some day. I teil you, Ingram, you will
be delighted and charmed with her manners, and her
grace, and the clever things she says at least, every-
body eise is."
"Ah, welL"
"You don't seem to care much for brilliant women,''
lemarked the other, rather disappointed that his com-
panion showed so lite interest.
"Oh, yes, I like brilliant women very well. A
dever woman is always a pleasanter companion than
a clever man. But you were talking of the choice of
a wife; and pertness in a girl, although it may be
amusing at the time, may possibly become someiing
eise by-and-by. Indeed, I shouldn't advise a young
man to marry an epigrammatist: for you see her
shrewdness and smartness are generally the result of
e3qeriences in which he has had no share.''
"There may be something in that," said Lavender,
carelessly; "but of course, you know, with a widow it
is different and Mrs. Lorraine never does go in for
the inginueP
The pale blue cloud that had for some time been
lying faintly along the horizon now came nearer and
more near, until they could pick out something like
the configuration of the island, its bays, and pro-
montories, and mountains. The day seemed to become
wanner as they got out of the driving wind of the
Channel, and the heavy roll of the sea had so far
sabsided. Through comparatively calm water the great
Claniman drove her way, until, on getting near the
bnd, and under shelter of the Peninsula of Eye, the
voyagers found themselves on a beautiful blue piain,
32 A iHaiUi.:fitif fiv hsitle.
tefaHR tfiu9L 1%tBcc, cm tVg OBC sdc ILn' jl vAnc aad
csKufy tsnrH^ ni tt ^uppL and qmnsL ad ATni-^iSii^-
vjticibf of fiQC The lEue ^Bmaes idke Ikbie Innf , aad
iSie ^iXTj^ 9^7 IxsQdzD^ sct aomdi jgicai tcnaoes aad
Ofdodtod ly wwMJrd liH^, ftiiimril jl Ihright and lvnd[^
Hadit ^Ktsant CHI iSuB 6cdi aad hriHiaBtt fnreaooo; aad
yoon^ Laveoder, idio lad a qk cre fcr oom-
jKMafinSy vlncii bc vas alv;inps abotfl to mdertilDC^
iMit whicii ncvcr ajupeued on cjiujts, dedaocd en-
htmMSiadkf tatt he voold spcnd a di^^ or tvo in
Slfimovstf OD bis leiui 60111 Borra, and lake home
witb hini wooc ^f*^^ of tiie place.
""And is Mhs Sheila on tiie qoMf jondert* he
^Not Vkdy!' md Ingram. *It is a long drive
90[(tm tbe iiland; and I siqpose she wonld icmain at
biWM; t^ lcKk aliter aar dinner in tbe erening."
"^WhUt The wondeifdl Sheila look after cor
difWM^ Has she vinons among die pots and pans,
and dMi she lock nnotteiable diings when she is
l(eelifig potaloest^
Ingram langbed.
^l'h/ere irUi be a prettj aheration in joiir tone, in
A ^upiie of da)r You are sore to fall in love widi
iMff, and igh defpcratcljr, for a wedt or two. Yon
fdwfiYn do, whtn you meet a woman anywhere. Bat
ii won'i hurt you much and she won't know anything
About it^
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. ^^
**I should rather like to fall in love with her, to
See how furiously jealous you would become How-
ever, here we are."
"And there is Mackenzie the man with the big
grey beard and the peaked cap and he is talking to
the Chamberlain of the Island/'
"What does he get up on his waggonette for, in-
stead of coming on board to meet you?"
"Oh, that is one of his little tricks," said Ingram,
with a good-humoured smile. "He means to receive
US in State, and impress you, a stranger, with his
dignity. The good old fellow has a hundred harm-
less wajTS like that; and you must humour him. He
has been accustomed to be treated en roi\ you
know."
"Then the papa of the mysterious princess is not
perfecta"
"Perhaps I ought to teil you now that Mackenzie's
oddest notion is that he has a wonderful skill in
managing men, and in concealing the manner of his
doing it I teil you this that you mayn't laugh, and
hurt him, when he is attempting something that he
considers particularly crafty, and that a child could see
through."
"But what is the aim of it alll"
"Oh, nothing."
"He does not do a little bet occasionally?"
"Oh, dear, no. He is the best and honestest fellow
in the world; but it pleases him to fancy that he is
profoundly astute, and that other people don't see the
artfuhiess with which he reaches some little result that
is not of the least consequence to anybody."
"It seems to me," remarked Mr. Lavender, with a
A Prmuss of ThuU, I, 'i
^ A PKEXCESS Or XHCLE.
coolness and a shrewdness at ndicr snrprised his
companioQ, ''diat it woold not be KfiirT^H to get
the King of Borva to assume die hanoms o ji popat-
in-Iaw."
The tffamrr was mocxed at lasl; die aowd of
fishermen and loongers drev near to mect liieir firioids
wfao had come np firom Glasgow for time are few
strangerSy as a mle, amring at StoiBowa^ to whet die
cmiositj of die isbmdcrs and die taD giDie who had
been itfanding by Markcnzie^s horscs came on boaid
to get die faiggage oi die young men.
""Wen, Doncan " said die eider of diem, ""and
how are jon, and how is Mr. Mackenzie, and how is
Miss Shdlaf Yoa haYen\ brought her widi jrou, I
see."
'^But Miss 9ieila is fenj wdl, irtiatever, 1fr. hh
gram, and it is a great daj, diis daj, for her, tat yoa
win be comii^ to the Lewis, and it wass tis moming
she wass np at ta break " day, and np ta hiDs to get
some bits o* green things for ta rooms yoa will he^
Mr. Ingram. Ay, it iss a great day, tts day, for Ifiss
Sheila.''
'^By Jove, they afl rave aboot Sieiia op in this
qaarter," said Lavender, giving Doncan a fishing-iod
and a bag be had brought firom the cabin. *I sappose
in a week's time I shall begin and raye aboat ho* too.
Look Sharp, Ingram, and let os ha^e aodieiice of his
Majesty.''
The King of Borva fixed his cyes on yoong La-
Ycnder, and scanned him narrowly, as he was being
introdaced. His welcome of Ingram had been most
graciotis and friendly; bot he received his companion
with something of a severe politeness. He rcqaested
THS FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 35
him to take a seat beside him, so that he might see
the country as they went across to Borva; and La-
vender having done so, Ingram and Duncan got into
the body of the waggonette, and the party drove oflf.
Passing through the clean and bright little town,
Mackenzie suddenly puUed up his horses in front of
a small shop, in the window of which some cheap bits
of jewellery were visible. The man came out; and
Mr. Mackenzie explained, with some care and pre-
dsion, that he wanted a silver brooch of a particular
sort. While the jeweller had retumed to seek the
article in question, Frank Lavender was gazing around
him in some wonder at the appearance of so much
dvization on this remote and rarely-visited island.
Here were no haggdxd savages, unkempt and scantily
dad, Coming forth from their dens in the rocks to
Stare wildly at the strangers. On the contraiy, there
was a prevailing air of comfort and "bienness" about
the people and their houses. He saw handsome girls,
with coal-black hair and fresh complexions, who wore
Short and thick blue petticoats, with a scarlet tartan
shawl wrapped round their bosom and fastened at the
waist; stalwart, thick-set men, in loose blue jacket and
trowsers, and scarlet cap, many of them with bushy
red beards; and women of extraordinary breadth of
Shoulder, who carried enormous loads in a creel strap-
ped on their back, whe they employed their hands in
contentedly knitting stockings as they passed along.
But what was the purpose of these mighty loads of
fish-bones they carried burdens that would have ap-
palled a railway porter of the South 1
"You will see, sir," observed the King of Borva,
in reply to Lavender's question, "there iss not much
36 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
of the Phosphates in the graas of this island; and the
cows they aie mad to get the fish-bones to lick, and
it iss many of them you cannot milk, unless you put
the bones before them."
"Gut why do the lazy fellows lounging about there
let the womeo carry those enorraous loadsl"
Mr. Macken zie stared.
"Lazy fellows) They hef haider work than any
you will know of in your country; and, besides the
fishing, they will do the ploughing, and much of the
farm-work. And iss ihe women to do none at alll
That iss the nonsense that my daughter talksj but she
has got it out of books, and what do they know how
the poor people hef to livel"
At this moment the jeweller returaed, with some
half-dozen brooches displayed on a plate, and shining
with all the brilancy of cairn-gorm stones, polished
silver, and variously-coloured pebbles.
"Now, John Mackintyre, this is a gentleman from
London," said Mackenzie, regarding the jeweller stem-
ly, "and he will know all apout such fine things, and
you will not put a big price on them."
It was now Lavender's tum to stare; but he good-
naturedly accepted thedutiesof referee, and eventually
a brooch was selected and paid for, the price being
six Shillings. Then they drove on again.
"Sheila will know nothing of this it will be a
great surprise for her," said Mackenzie, almost to him-
seif, as he opened the white box, aud saw the glaring
piece of jewellery lying oa the white cotton.
"Good heavens, sir!" cried Frank Lavender, "you
don't mean to say you bought that brooch for your
daughterl"
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 37
**And why not?" said the King of Borva, in great
surprise.
The young man perceived his mistake, grew con-
siderably confused, and only said
"Well, I should have thought that that somesmall
piece of gold jewellery, now, would be better suited
for a young lady."
Mackenzie smiled shrewdly.
"I had something to go on. It wass Sheila herseif
was in Stomoway three weeks ago, and she wass want-
ing to buy a brooch for a young girl who has come
down to US from Suainabost, and is very useful in the
kitchen, and it wass a brooch just like tis one she
gave to her."
"Yes, to a kitchenmaid/' said the young man,
meekly.
''But Main is Sheila's cousin," said Mackenzie,
with continued surprise.
"Lavender does not understand Highland ways
yet, Mr. Mackenzie," said Ingram, from behind. "You
know we in the South have diflferent fashions. Our
servants are nearly always strangers to us not rela-
tions and companions."
"Oh, I hef peen in London myself," said Macken-
zie, in somewhat of an injured tone; and then he
added, with a. touch of self-satisfaction, "and I hef
been in Paris too."
''And Miss Sheila, has she been in London?" asked
Lavender, feigning ignorance.
"She has never been out of the Lewis."
"But don't you think the education of a young
lady should indude some little experience of travel-
lingf
A PRINCKSS OF THULE.
V "Sheila, she wi]] beeducaied quite enough; and is
I she going to London or Paris wilhout me!"
I "You might taie her."
I "I have too mach to do on the Island oow, and
I Sheila has rauch to do; I do not think she will ever
I see iny of those places, and she will not be much tt
n worse."
I Two young men off for their holidays brilliant
day shining all around Ihem the sweel air of the sea
and the moorland blowing abont them: this Utile
party that now drove away from Stomoway ought to
have been in the best of spirits. And, indeed, the
young feUow who sat beside Mackenzie was bent on
pleasing his host, by praising everything he saw. He
pratsed the gallant little horses that whirled them
past the plantations and out inlo the open countiy.
He praised the rieh black peat that was vistble in
long lines and heaps, where the lownspeople were
slowly eating inlo the moorland. Then all these
traces of occupation were left behind. and the travel-
lers were alone in the untenanted heart of the Island,
where the only sounds audible were the huraming of
insects in the sunlight, and the falling of streams.
Away in the soulh the mountains were of a sQvery
and transparent blue. Nearer at band the rieh redfl
and browns of the moorland softened into a tender
and beauriful green on nearing the margins of the
lakesj and these Stretches of water were now as fair
and brighl as the sky above them, and were scarcely
ruffled by the moor-fowl moving out from the green
rushes. Still nearer at band, great masses of white
rock lay embedded in the soft soil; and what could
have harmonized better with the rough and silver-grey
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRNGER. 39
surface than the patches of rose-red bell-heather that
grew up in their clefts, or hung over their summitsi
The various and beautiful colours around seemed to
tingle with light and warmth as the clear sun shone
OD them, and the keen mountain air blew over them;
and the King of Borva was so far thawed by the en-
thosiasm of his companions, that he regarded the far
coimtry with a pleased smile, as if the enchanted land
belonged to him, and as if the wonderful colours, and
the exhilarating air, and the sweet perfumes, were of
his own creation.
Mr. Mackenzie did not know much about tints
and hues; but he believed what he heard; and it was
peihaps, after all, not very surprising that a gentleman
from London, who had skill of pictures and other de-
licate matters, should find strnge marvels in a com-
mon Stretch of moor, with a few lakes here and there,
and some lines of mountain only good for shielings.
It was not for him to check the raptures of his guest.
He began to be friendly with the young man; and
could not help regarding him as a more cheerful com-
panion than his neighbour Ingram, who would sit by
your side for an hour at a time, without breaking the
monotony of the horses' tramp with a single remark.
He had formed a poor opinion of Lavender's physique,
firom the first glimpse he had of his white fingers and
girl-like complexion; but surely a man who had such
a vast amount of good spirits, and such a rapidity of
ntterance, must have something corresponding to these
qualities in substantial bone and muscle. There was
something pleasingand ingenuous, too, about thisflow
of talk. Men who had arrived at years of wisdom,
and knew how to study and use their fellows, were
40 A PEINCES5 OF THULE.
not tD lc led mto liiese betntyals of Aar socict
opinions; bnt for a joTxng man ^wiiat conkl be more
pleasing than to see him laj open his soid to ie ob-
servajit eye of a master of men 9 Markmrif bcgaa to
takt a great fancy to joung Labender.
^WhjT Bald Lavender, wii a&te colcmr raan&ig
m his dieeks, as llie wind caoght them oo a faig^
portion of the road, ^I bad heard of Lewis as a mofit
bkak and desolate isiand flat moorland and lake
without a hin to be seen. And cvcrywbsTt I see hiDs;
and youd.tr are great motmtains, which I bope to gct
nearer before we leave."
^We have mountains in iis isTand," rcmaiked
Mackenzie, slowly, as be kept bis eye on bis oompanioii,
^we have mountains in tbis isiand sixteen tbousand
feet high-**
Lavender looked soffidendy astonished; and die
old man was pleased He pansed for a moment or
two, and Said
^ut this 188 the way of it: you will see that tbe
rai&d\^ of the mountains it bas a been washed away
by the weather, and you will only have tbe sides now
dipping one way and tbe otber at eacb side o' tbe
isiand. But it iss a very clever man in Stomoway wl
teil me that you can make out wbat wass tbe beigbt
o* the mountain, by watching tbe dipping of tbe rocks
on each side; and it iss an older countiy, tbis Island,
than any you will know of, and tbere were tbe moun-
tains sixteen tbousand feet high long before all tbis
country, and all Scotland and England, wass covered
with ice."
The young man was very desirous to show bis in-
terest in this matter; but did not know very well bow.
THE FAIR-HAIRED STIIANGER. 4I
Atiast, he ventured to ask whether there were any
fossils in the blocks of gneiss that were scattered over
the moorland.
"Fossils?" Said Mackenzie. "Oh, I will not care
much about such small things. If you will ask Sheila,
she will teil you all about it, and about the small
things she finds growing on the hills. That iss not of
much consequence to me; but I will teil you what is
the best thing the island grows it is good girls and
strong men men that can go to the fishing, and come
back to plough the fields, and cut the peat, and build
the houses, and leave the women to look after the
fidds and the gardens when they go back again to
the fisheries. But it is the old people they are ferry
conning, and they will not put their money in the
bank at Stomoway, but will hide it away about the
house, and then they will come to Sheila and ask for
money to put a pane of glass in their house. And
she has promised that to everyone who will make a
Window in the wall of their house; and she is very
simple with them, and does not understand the old
people that teil lies. But when I hear of it, I say no-
thing to Sheila she will know nothing about it but
I hef a watch put upon the people, and it wass only
yesterday Iwill take back two Shillings she gave to an
old woman of Borvabost, that told many lies. What
does a young thing know of these old people 1 She
will know nothing at all, and it iss better for some one
eise to look after them, but not to speak one word of
it to her."
"It must require great astuteness to manage a pri-
mitive people like that," said young Lavender with an
air of conviction; and the old man eagerly and
41 A piascESE or tht.
pRNidIj assented, and wem od to teO of tbe msnifolc
dtplotnatic rts be nsed in reigning over bis sr
kii^doin, and bow his subjects lived io blissful
BOfance dut iis Controlling power was being exer'
ctsed.
They were startled by an exdamation from Ingram,
wfio calied to Mackeiute to pall ap the horses, jus! ai
tbey were passing orer a smalt bridge.
"Ijjofc ihere, Lavender, did yon ever see
jnmping like tbatt Look at the se of thMn!"
"Oh, it iss notng," said Mackenne, driTi'ng
again; "where yoa will see the salmon, it is in UM
Narrows of Loch Roag, where tfaey come into ihi
rivers, and the tide is low. Then you will see thes
jamping; and if the waler wass too low for a long tin
they will die in hundreds and hundrcds,"
"But whal makes thera juinp before they gel int
the rivent"
Old Mackenzie smiled a crafty stnile, as if h
had found out all the ways and llie secrets of th
almon.
"They wiD Jump to look about them that ia
all"
"Do you think a salmon can see where he i
foingl"
"And maybe you will erplain this to me. then,"
Kaid the King, with a compassionale air; "how iss i
the salmon will try to jump over some stones in thi
rivcr, and he will see he cannot go over them; but
(loes he fall straight down on the stones and kill htm
Bein Neffer no, neffer. He will gel back lo tlw
pool he left by tuming in the air thal is whal I hav)
een hundreds of times myself."
THE PAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 43
*Then they must be able l fly zi well as see in
the air/'
*Yo may i8y about it trhat yu will please; but
that is what I know that is wbat I know feity well
myself."
"And I should think there were not many people
ia the country who knew more about salmon than
you," Said Frank Lavender. "And I hear, too, that
yoor daughter is a great fisher/'
Bat this was a blunder. The old man frowned.
"Who will teil you such nonsense? Sheila has
gone out many times with Duncan, and he will put a
lod in her hands yes and she will have caught a
fish or two but it iss not a story to teil. My daugh-
ter she will have plenty to do about the house, with-
out iany of such nonsense. You will expect to find us
a savages, with such stories of nonsense."
"I am sure not," said Lavender, warmly; "I have
been very much Struck with the civilization of the
Island, SO far as I have seen it; and I can assure you
1 have always heard of Miss Sheila as a singularly ac-
oomplished young lady."
"Yes," said Mackenzie, somewhat mollified, "Sheila
has been well brought up she is not a fisherman's
lass, running about wild, and catching the salmon. I
cannot listen to such nonsense and it iss Duncan
will teil it"
"I can assure you, no. I have never spoken to
Duncan. The fact is, Ingram mentioned that your
daughter had caught a salmon or two as a tribute to
her skill, you know."
"Oh, I know it wass Duncan," said Mackenzie,
with a deeper frown Coming over his face. "I will
44 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
hef some means taken to stop Duncan from talking
such
^^^^en
The young man knowing nothing as yet of tbe
child-like obedience paid to the King of Borva by his
Island ers thought to himself
" Wtll, you are a very strng and sdf-wUd old
gCTleman, bul if I wert yoa, I shauld not tneddli muck
with that lall kecper wilh the tagte ieak and the grey
eyes. I skould not like to he a slag, and know that thai
fdlow was walcAmg me somewhere , with a rifle h
Ai length they came upon the brow of the MU
overlooking Garra-na-hina and the panorama of the
westcm lochs and mountains. Down there on the
side of the hill was the small inn, wilh its lite patch
of garden; then a few tnoist meadows leading over to
the estuary of the Black River; and beyond that an
illimitable pcospecl of heathy undularions rising into
the mighty peaks of Cracabhal, Mealasabhal, and
SuainabliaJ. Then on the right, leading away out to
the as yet invisible Adantic, lay the blue piain of Loch
Roag, with a margin of yellow sea-weed along its
shores, where the rocks revealed tbemselves at low
water, and with a muldtude of targe, variegated, and
verdant Islands which hid from sight the still greatcr
Borva beyond.
They stopped to have a glass of whisky at Garra-
na-hina, and Mackenzie got down from the waggonette
and went into the inn.
"And this is a Highland loch!" said Lavender,
tuming to his companion from the South, "It i
ichanted sea you could fancy youtself in the Pacific,
THE FAIR-HAIRED STKANGER. 45
u only there were some palm-trees on the shores of
the islands. No wonder you took for an Eve any sort
of woman you met in such a Paradise."
'^You seem to be thinking a good deal about that
young lady/'
"Well, who would not wish to make the acquaint-
ance of a pretty girl especially when you have plenty
of time on your hands, and nothing to do but pay her
litde attentions, you know, and so forth, as being the
daughter of your hostl"
There was no particular answer to such an in-
coherent question; but Ingram did not seem so well
pleased as he had been with the prospect of intro-
ducing his friend to the young Highland girl whose
praises he had been reciting for many a day.
However, they drank their whisky, drove on to
Callemish, and here paused for a minute or two to
show the stranger a series of large so-called Druidical
Sternes which occupy a small plateau overlooking the
loch. Could anything have been more impressive
dian the sight of these solitary grey pillars placed on
this bit of table-land high over the sea, and telling of
a race that vanished ages ago and left the surrounding
plainsy and hills, and shores a wild and untenanted
solitudel But somehow Lavender did not care to
remain among those voiceless monuments of a for-
gotten past He ^aid he would come and sketch them
some other day. He praised the picture all around;
and then came back to the Stretch of ruffied blue
water Ijdng at the base of the hill. **Where was Mr.
Mackenzie's boatl" he asked.
They left the high piain, with its Tutrsachan,* r
* AaoUier name g^ven by the islanders to those stones is Fir-bkreigex
46 A PBINCESS OF THULE.
StoneG of Mouming, and dcscended to the side of the
loch. In a few momsnts, Dancan, who had been dis-
posing of the horses and the waggonette, overtoofc
them, gol ready the boat, and presently they werc
cutting asunder the bright blue piain of summei
At last they were nearing the King of Borva's Is-
land. The white foara hissed down the side of the
open boat. The sun bumed hot on the brown saU,
Fai away over the shining plain the salmon were leap-
ing into the air, catching a quick gnt of silver on
their scales before they splashed again into the water.
Half-a-dozen sea-pyes, with their beautiful black and
white plumage, and scarlel beaks and feet, flew screani-
ing out from the rocks, and swept in rapid circles
above the boat. A long flight of solan-geese could
just be Seen slowly sailing along the westem horizon.
As the small craft gol out towards the sea, the breeze
freshened slightjy, and she lay over somewhat, as the
brine-laden winds caught her, and tingled on the
cheeks of her passengers from the softer South, Finally,
as the great Channel widened out, and the various
smaller Islands disappeared behind, Ingram touched
his companion on the Shoulder, looked over to & long
and low line of rock and hill, and said^
"Borva!"
And Ibis was Borva ! nothing visible but an in-
definite extent of rocky shore, with here and there a
bay of white sand, and over that a table-land of greeo
pasture, apparently uninhabited.
"There are not many people on the island," said
h
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 47
Lavender, who seemed rather disappointed with the
kok of the place.
^'There are three hundred/' said Mackenzie, with
the air of one who had experienced ie difficulties of
ruling over three hundred Islnders.
He had scarcely spoken, when his attention was
called by Duncan to some object that the gillie had
been regarding for some minutes back.
''YeSy it iss Miss Sheila," said Duncan.
A sort of flash of expectation passed over Laven-
der's face, and he sprang to his feet Ingram laughed.
Did the foolish youth fancy he could see half as far
as this grey-eyed, eagle-faced man, who had now sunk
into his accustomed seat by the mast? There was
DOthing visible to ordinary eyes but a speck of a boat,
with a Single sail up, which was apparently, in the
distance, running in for Borva.
"Ay, ay, ay," said Mackenzie in a vexed way, "it
is Shefla, true enough; and what will she do out in
tfae boat at this time, when she wass to be at home
to receive the gentlemen that hef come all the way
6om London)"
**Well, Mr. Mackenzie/' said Lavender, "I should
be sorry to think that our Coming had interfered
in any way whatever with your daughter's amuse-
ments.''
"Amsements!" said the old man, with a look of
sorprise. "It iss not amusements she will go for that
is no amusements for her. It is for some teffie of a
purpose she will go, when it is the house that is the
proper place for her, with friends coming from so
great a joumey.'*
Presently it became clear that a race between the
48 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
two boats was inevitable, both of them making for thi
same point. Mackenzie would take no notice of sud
a thing; but there was a grave smile on Duncan'
face, and something like a look of pride in bis kea
eyes.
"There iss no one, not one," he said, alraost
himself, "will take her in better than Miss Sheila no
one in ta Island. And it wass me tat learnt her evei]
bit o' ta steering about Borva."
The strangers couid now make out that in th
other boat there were two girls, one seated in
stem, the other by the mast, Ingram took out
handkerchief and waved it; a simar token of recogni
tion was floated out from the other vessel. But Ma(
kenzie's boat preseny had the better of the
and slowly drew on ahead; until, when her pag
sengers landed on the rde sCone quay, they founi
the other and smaller craft still some litde distano
off.
Lavender paid little attention to his luggage. Hi
let Duncan do with it what he liked. He was watch
ing the small boat coniing in, and getting a little im
patient, and perhaps a httle nervous, in waiting for
glimpse of the young lady in the stem. He coul(
vagnely make out that she had an abundance
dark hair looped up; that she wore a small straw ha
with a short white featlier in it; and that for the resi
she seemed to be habited entirely in some rough ani
close-fitting costume of dark blue. Or was there
gliramer of a band of rose-red round her necki
The small boat was cleverly run alongside tli
jetty; Duncan caught her bow and held her fast, am
Miss Sheila, with a heavy slring of lytbe in her righ
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 49
band, stepped, laughing and blushing, on to the quay.
Ingram was there. She dropped the fish on the stones,
and took his two hands in hers, and, without uttering
a Word, looked a glad welcome into his face. It was
a face capable of saying unwritten things fine and
delicate in form, and yet fll of an abundance of
health and good spirits that shone in the deep grey-
blue eyes. Lavender's first emotion was one of sur*
prise that he should have heard this handsome, well-
knit, nd proud-featured girl called "little Sheila," and
spoken of in a pretty and caressing way. He thought
ere was someiing almost majestic in her figure, in
the poising of her head, and tiie outline of her face.
But presently he began to perceive some singular
suggestions of sensitiveness and meekness in the low,
sweet brow, in the short and exquisitely-curved upper-
lip, and in the look of the tender blue eyes, which
had long black eyelashes to give them a peculiar and
indefinable charm. All this he noticed hastily and
timidly as he heard Ingram, who still held the girl's
hands in his, saying
"Well, Sheila, and you haven't quite forgotten me?
And you are grown such a woman now why, I
mustn't call you Sheila any more, I think but let me
introduce to you my friend, who has come all the
way from London to see all the wonderful things of
Bonra."
If there was any embarrassment or blushing during
that simple ceremony, it was not on the side of the
Highland girl; for she frankly shook hands with him,
and Said
"And are you very welll"
The second Impression which Lavender gathered
4 Princess of TJwi^. /, A
50 A PlUNCESS OF TllUI
frora her was, that nowhere in the world was Engl
pronounced so beautifully as in Ihe island of Lewis.
The gentle Intonation with which she spoke was so
tender and touching the slight dwelling on the e in
"very," and "well" seemed to have such a soiind of
sincerity about it, that he could have fancied he had
been a friend of hers for a lifetime. And if she said
"ferry" for "very," what then! It was the most beau-
tiful English he had ever heard.
The party now moved off towards the shote, above
the long white curve of which Mackenzie's house was
visible. The old man himself led the way, and had,
by his silence, apparently not quite forgiven his
daughter for having been absent from home when his
guests arrived.
"Now, Sheila," said Ingram, "teil me all about
yourself; what have you been doing?"
"This momingl" said the girl, Walking beside him.
with her hand laid on his arm, and with the happiest
look on her face.
"This morning, to begin with. Did you catch
those fish yourself 1"
"Oh, no, there was no time for that. And it was
Mairi and I saw a boat Coming in, and it was going
to Mevaig, but we overtook it, and gol some of the
fish, and we thought we should be back before you
carae. However, it is no matter since you are here.
And you have been very welH And did you see any
difference in Stomoway when you came over!"
Lavender began to think that "Styornoway"
sounded ever so much more pleasant than mere Stor-
noway.
B "We had not a minute to wait in Stomoway. But
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 5I
tefl me, Sheila, all about Borva and yourself that is
better dian Stamoway. How are your schools getting
on? And have you bribed or frightened all the
chdren into giving up Gaelic yet? How is John the
Piper and does the Free Church minister still com-
plin of him? And have you caught any more wild
dacks and tamed them? And are there any grey geese
up at Loch-an-Eilean?"
"Oh, that is too many at once," said Sheila, laugh-
ing. "But I am afraid your friend will find Borva
veiy lonely and dull. There is not much here at all
for all the lads are away at the Caithness fishing.
And you should have shown him all about Stomoway,
and taken him up to the Castle, and the beautiful
gardens."
''He has seen all sorts of Castles, Sheila, and all
sorts of gardens in every part of the world. He has
Seen ever3rthing to be seen in the great cities and
countries that are only names to you. He has travelled
m France, Italy, Russia, Germany, and seen all the big
towns that you hear of in history."
"That is what I should like to do, if I were a
man," said Sheila; "and many and many a time I wish
I had been a man, that I could go to the fishing,
and work in the fields, and then, when I had seen
enough, go away and see other countries and strnge
people."
"But if you were a man, I should not have come
an the way from London to see you," said Ingram,
patting the hand that lay on his arm.
"But if I were a man," said the girl, quite frankly,
**I should go up to London to see you."
Mackenzie smiled grimly, and said
4*
52 A PEfCESS OF THOL.
'^'Shdla, it k oonseBse yon will talL*
At iMs mon^ent Shea tmed inonnd, and said
''Oll, WC have forgoen poca- Main. Maiii, why
did jovL not leave the i^ii for Ihmcaii Ihcy aie too
hc3xy for jon. I wiO caiTj tliem to the bonse."
But Lallender sprang forwajd, and inssted on
taldng posse^on of thc ^bkk. ocnd with its oonsiderable
wcight of lytiie.
''This is mj coasin Main/* said Shola; and forth-
widi the yoimg, uF-u:ed, limidHeif^ gni sfaook hands
with ie genemen, and said just as if she had been
watdiing Sheila
^'And are you fcny well, sirl*
For the rest of the way np to tfae honse, Lavender
walked by the side of Sheila; and as the string of
lythe had fonned the introdaction to their talk, it ran
pretty much upon natural history. In abont five
minutes she had told him more abont sea-birds and
(i$h than ever he knew in bis life; and she wonnd up
thb infonnation by ofiering to take him out on the
following moming, that he might himself catch some
lythc,
^But I am a wretchedly bad fishennan^ Miss
Mackenzie,'' he said ^It is some years since I tried
to throw a yf
^Oh, thcre is no need for good fishing when you
catch lythe," she said, eamestly. "You will see Mr.
Ingram catch them. It is only a big white fly you
will need, and a long line, and when the fish takes
the fly, down he goes a great depth. Then when
you have got him, and he is killed, you must cut the
ides, as you see that is done, and string him to a
rope and trail him behind the boat all the way home.
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 53
If you do not do that, it iss no use at all to eat. But
if you like the salmon-fishing, my papa will teach you
that There is no one," she added, proudly, "can
catch salmon like my papa not even Duncan and
the gentlemen who come in the autumn to Stomoway,
they are quite surprised when my papa goes to fish
with them/'
"I suppose he is a good shot, too," said the young
man, amused to notice the proud way in which the
girl spoke of her father.
**0h, he can shoot anything. He will shoot a seal,
if he comes up but for one moment above the water;
and all the birds he will get you all the birds, if you
will wish to take any away with you. We have no
deer on the island it is too small for that; but in the
Lewis and in Harris there are many, many thousands
of deer, and my papa has many invitations when the
gentlemen come up in the autumn, and if you look in
the game-book of the lodges, you will see there is not
anyone who has shot so many deer as my papa not
anyone whatever."
At length they reached the building of dark and
rade stone-work, with its red coping, its spacious
porch, and its small enclosure of garden in front.
Lavender praised the flowers in this enclosure he
guessed they were Sheila's particular care; but, in
truth, there was nothing rare or delicate among the
plants growing in this exposed Situation. There were
a few Clusters of large yellow pansies, a calceolaria or
two, plenty of wallfiower, some clove pinks, and an
abundance of sweet-william in all manner of colours.
But the Chief beauty of the small garden was a
magnificent tree-fuchsia which grew in front of one of
54 ^ FlUNCESS OF THDLE.
the Windows, and was corered with deep rose-red
flowers set amid hs small and deep-green leaves. For
the rest, a bit of honejsackle was tiained up one side
of the poich; and at the smaU wooden gate tfaere were
two bushes of sweet-brier, tfaat filled the wann air with
fragrance.
Just before entering the house, the two strangers
tumed to have a look at the spacions landscape l3ng
an aroiind, in the perfect cakn of a summer day. And
lo! before them there was bnt a blinding mass of
white that glared upon their eyes, and caused them to
see the far sea, and the shores, and the hls as bat
faint shadows appearing through a silveiy haze. A
thin fleece of clond lay across the sun, but the light
was, nevertheless, so intense that the objects near at
band a disused boat lying bottom upwards, an im-
mense anchor of foreign make, and some such things
seemed to be as black as night, as they lay on the
warm roaxL But when the eye got beyond the house
and the garden, and the rough hlside leading down
to Loch Roag, all the world appeared to be a blaze
of calm, silent, and luminous heat Suainabhal and
bis brother mountains were only as douds in the
south. Along the westem horizon, the portion of the
Atlantic that could be seen, lay like a silent lake
under a white sky. To get any touch of colour, they
had to tum eastward, and there the sunlight faintly
feil on the green shores of Borva, on the Narrows of
Loch Roag, and the loose red sail of a solitary smack
that was slowly coming round a headland. They
could hear the sound of the long oars. A pale line
of shadow lay in the wake of the boat; but otherwise
the black hll and the red sail seemed to be coming
THE FAIR-HAIRED STRANGER. 55
through a piain of mlten silver. When the young
men tarned to go into the house, the hall seemed a
cavem of impenetrable darkness, and there was a flush
of crimson light dancing before their eyes.
When Ingram had had his room pointed out, La-
vender followed him into it, and shut the door.
"By Jove, Ingram," he said, with a singular light
of enthusiasm on his handsome face, ^'what a beautiful
voice that girl has I have never heard anything so
soft and musical in all my life and then, when she
smiles, what perfect teeth she has and then, you
know, there is an appearance, a style, a grace, about
her figure But, I say, do you seriously mean to
teil me you are not in love with herl"
"Of course I am not," said the other, impatiently,
as he was busily engaged with his portmanteau.
"Then let me give you a word of information,"
said the younger man; "she is in love with you."
Ingram rose, with some little touch of vexation on
his face.
"Look here, Lavender. I am going to talk to you
seriously. . I wish you wouldn't fancy that everyone is
in that condition of simmering love-making you delight
in. You never were in love, I believe; but you are
always fancying yourself in love, and writing very pretty
Verses about it, and painting very pretty heads. I like
the verses and the paintings well enough, however they
are come by; but don't mislead yourself into believing
that you know anything whatever of a real and serious
passion by having engaged in all sorts of imaginative
and semi-poetical dreams. It is a much more serious
thing than that, mind you, when it comes to a man,
as I trust you will find out But, for heaven's sake.
56 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
don't attribate any of that sott of sentimental make-
believe to either Sheila Mackenzie or myselfl We are
not romantic folks. We have no imaginative gifts
whatever; but we are very glad, you know, to be at-
tentive and gratefol to those who have. The fact is,
I don't think it quite fair **
''Let US snppose I am lectured enoogh^'' said the
other, somewhat bluntly. ''I suppose I am as good a
judge of the character of a woman as most other men,
although I am no great Student, and have no hard and
dried rules of philosophy at my fingers* ends. Per-
haps, however, one may leam more by mixing with
other people, and going out into the world, than by
sitting in a room with a dozen books and persuading
oneself that men and women are to be studied in that
fashion."
"Go away, you stupid boy, and unpack your poit-
manteau, and don't quarrel with me," said Ingram,
putting out on the table some things he had brought
for Sheila; "and if you are friendly with Sheila, and
treat her like a human being, instead of trying to put
a lot of romance and sentiment about her, she will
teach you more than you could leam in a hundred
drawing-rooms in a thousand years."
CHAPTER IIL
There was a King in Thole.
He never took that advice. He had already trans-
formed Sheila into a heroine during the half-hour of
their stroU from the beach and around the house. Not
that he feil in love with her at first sight, or anything
even approaching to that He merely made her the
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 57
central figure of a little speculative romancey as he
had made many another woman before. Of course,
in these little fanciful dramas, written along the Sky-
line, as it were, of his life, he invariably pictured him-
self as the fitting companion of the fair creatnre he
saw there. Who but himself could understand the
sentiment of her eyes, and teach her little love-ways,
and express unbounded admiration of her? More than
one practical young woman, indeed, in certain circles
of London society, had been informed by her friends
that Mr. Lavender was dreadfully in love with her;
and had been much surprised, after this confirmation
of her suspicions, that he sought no means of bringing
the afifair to a reasonable and sensible issue. He did
not even amuse himself by flirting with her, as men
would willingly do who could not be charged with
any serious purpose whatever. His devotion was more
mysterious and remote. A rumour would get about
that Mr. Lavender had finished another of those
charming heads in pastel, which, at a distance, re-
minded one of Grenze, and that Lady So-and-so, who
had bought it forthwith, had declared that it was the
image of this young lady, who was partly puzzled and
partly vexed by the incomprehensible conduct of her
reputed admirer. It was the fashion, in these social
drcles, to buy those heads of Lavender, when he chose
to paint them. He had achieved a good reputation
by them. The good people liked to have a genius in
their own set, whom they had discovered, and who
was only to be appreciated by persons of exceptional
taste and penetration. Lavender, the uninitiated were
assured, was a most cultivated and brilliant young
man. He had composed some charming songs. He
58 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
had written, from time to time, some quite delightful
ttle poems, over which fair eyes had gro'
and liquid. Who had not heard of the face that he
painted for a certain young lady, whom everyone ei-
pected him to marryl
The young man escaped a great deal of the or-
dinary consequences of this petting; but not alL
was at bottom really true-hearted, frank, and generoui
^generous even to an extreme; but he had acquired
a habit of producing striking impressions which dogged
and perverted his every action and speech.
Uked losing a few Shillings at biUiards, bul he did not
mind losing a few pounds: the lattet was good for a
Story. Had he possessed any money to invest in
shares, he would have been irritated by small rises ot
small falls; but he would have been vain of a big rise^
and he would have regarded a big fall with equa-
nimity, as placing him in a dramatic light. The
aggerations produced by this habit of his, fostered
Strange delusions in the minds of people who did not
know him very well; and sometiities the practical re-
sults in the way of expected charities or what
amazed him. He could not understand why people
should have made such mistakes, and resented them
as an injustice. Perhaps, if the young fellow had not
been possessed at bottom of many sound qualies, the
consequences of this social petting would have been
more serious.
And as they sat at dinner on this still, briltiant
evening in summer, it was Sheila's turn to be clothed
in the garments of romance. Her father, with his
great grey beard and heavy brow, becanie the King
of Thule, living in this solitary i;ouse overlooking the
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 59
sea, and having memories of a dead sweetheart His
daughter, the Ptincess, had the glamour of a thousand
legends dwelling in her beautiful eyes; and when she
walked by the shores of the Atlantic, that were now ^
getting yellow under the sunset, what strnge and un-
utterable thoughts must appear in the wonder of her
face! He remembered no more how he had puUed
to pieces Ingram's praises of Sheila. What had be-
come of the "ordinary young lady, who would be a
little interesting, if a little stupid, before marriage,
and, after marriage, sink into the dull, domestic hind)"
There conld be no doubt that Sheila often sat silent
for a considerable time, with her eyes fixed on her
father's face when he spoke, or tuming to look at
some other Speaker. Had Lavender now been asked
if this silence had not a trifle of dulness in it, he
would have replied by asking if there were dulness in
the stillness and the silence of the sea. He grew to
regard her calm and thoughtful look as a sort of spell;
and if you had asked him what Sheila was like, he
would have answered by sajring that there was moon-
light in her face.
The room, too, in which this mystic Princess sat,
was Strange and wonderful. There were no doors
visible; for the four walls were throughout covered by
a paper of foreign manufacture, representing spacious
Tyrolese landscapes, and incidents of the chase.
When Lavender had at first entered this Chamber, his
eye had been shocked by these coarse and prominent
pictures by the green rivers, the blue lakes, and the
snow peaks that rose above certain ruddy chalets.
There a chamois was stumbling down a ravine, and
there an operatic peasant, some eight or ten inches in
60 A PRISCESS OF THLE.
actual length, was pointing a gun. The large ffgui
the coarse coiours, the impossible scenes all thi
looked, at first sight, to be in ihe worst possiblc taste:
and Lavender was conviaced that Sheila had nothing
to do with the intioduction of this abominable di
tion. But somehow, when he tiimed to the line of
ocean that was visible from the wtndow, to the lonely
shores of the Island, and the monotony of coiours
showing in the still picture without, he began to fancy
that there might be a craving up in these latitudes^
for some presentation, however rde and glariog, of
the richer and more variegated life of the South.
The gures and mountains on the walls became less
prominent. He saw no incongruity in a whole chalet
giving way, and allowing Duncan, who waited at
table, to bring forth from this aperture to the kitchen,
a steaming dish of salmon, white he spoke some
words in Gaelic to the servants at the other end of
the tube. He even forgot to be surprised at the
appearance of little Mairi, with whom he had shakea
hands a little while before, Coming round the table
with potatoes. He did not, as a ruie, shake banda
with servant-maids, but was not this fair-haired, wistful-
eyed girl some relative, frieod, or companion of
Sheila'a; and had he not already begun to lose all
perception of the incongruous or the absurd
Strange pervading charm with which Sheila's presence
fiUed the place 1
He suddenly found Macke nzie's deep-set eyes
fixed upon him, and became aware that the old
had been mysteriously announcing to Ingram that
there were more political movcments abroad tban
people fancied. Sheila sat still and listened to her
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 6l
father as he expounded these things, and showed that,
althoagh at a distance, he could perceive the signs of
the times. Was it not incumbent, moreover, on a
man who had to look after a number of poor and
simple folksy that he should be on the alertl
^It iss not bekass you will live in London you
will know ever3rthing/' said the King of Borva, with a
certain significance in his tone. "There iss many
iings a man does not see at his feet, that another
man will see who is a good way oflf. The Inter-
national, now ''
He glanced furtively at Lavender.
" I hef been told there will be agents going
out every day to all parts of this country and other
countries, and they will hef plenty of money to live
like gentlemen, and get among the poor people, and
fill their minds with foolish nonsense about a revolu-
tion. Oh, yes, I hear about it all, and there iss many
members of Parliament in it, and it iss every day
they will get farther and farther, all working hard,
though no one sees them who does not understand to
be on the watch."
Here, again, the young man received a quiet,
scmtinizing glance; and it began to dawn upon him,
to Ins infinite astonishment, that Mackenzie half
sospected him of being an emissary of the Inter-
national. In the case of any other man, he would
have laughed, and paid no heed; but how could he
permit Sheila's father to regard him with any such
sospicion?
"Don't you think, sir," he said, boldly, **that these
Intemationalists are a lot of incorrigible idiotsi"
As if a shrewd observer of men and motives were
62 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
to be deceived by such a prolest! Mackenzie re^
garded him with increased suspicion, although he;
endeavoured to conceal the fact that he was watching
the young man from time to time. Lavender saw ali
the favour he had won during the day disappearingj
and moodily wondered when he should have a cbance
After dinner, they went outside and sat down on
a bench in the garden, and the men lit their cigaj^
It was a cool and pleasant evening. The sun had
gone down in red fire behind the Atlantic, and therft
was still left a rieh glow of crimson in the west, while.
overhead, in the pale yellow of the sky, some filmy
clouds of rose-colour lay motionless. How calm was .
the sea out Ihere, and the whiter Stretch of watep
Coming into Loch Roag! The cool air of the twilight
was scented with sweet-brier. The wash of the ripplei
along the coasi could be beard in the stiUness.
was a time for lovers to sit by the sea, careless of tbe
futore or the past.
But why would this old man keep prating of
bis political propheciesl Lavender asked of himself.
Sbeila had spoken scarcely a word all the evening;
and of what interest could it be to her to listen l
theories of revolution, and the dangers besetting out
hot-headed youtb? She merely stood by the side 4
her father, witb her band on his Shoulder. He noticed
however, that she paid particular attention wheneve
Ingram spoke: and he wondered whether she perceived
that Ingram was parlly humouring the old man, at ibi
same time that he was pleasing himself with a
of monologlies, interrupted only by his cigar.
"That is true enough, Mr. Mackenzie," iDgratl
THR WAS A KING IN THULE. 63
would say, lying back with his two hands clasped
round his knee, as usual; "you've got to be careful
of the opinions that are spread abroad, even in Borva,
where not much danger is to be expected. But I
don't suppose our young men are more destructive in
their notions than young men always have been. You
know, every young fellow Starts in life by knocking
down all the beliefs he finds before him, and then he
spends the rest of his life in setting them up again.
It is only after some years he gets to know that all
Ae wisdom of the world lies in the old common-
places he once despised. He finds that the old
familir ways are the best, and he sinks into being a
commonplace person, with much satisfaction to him-
seif. My friend Lavender, uow, is continually charging
me with being commonplace. I admit the charge.
I have drifted back into all the old ways and beliefs
about religion and marriage, and patriotism, and
what not that ten years ago I should have treated
with ridicule."
"Suppose the process continues," suggested La-
vender.
"Suppose it does," continued Ingram, carelessly.
"Ten years hence I may be proud to become a vestry-
man, and have the most anxious care about the ad-
ministration of the rates. I shall be looking after the
drainage of houses, and the treatment of paupers, and
the management of Sunday schools But all this is
an invasion of your province, Sheila," he suddenly
added, looking up to her.
The girl laughed, and said
"Then I have been commonplace from the be-
ginningl"
64 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
Ingram was abotit to make all manner of protesIS
and apologies, when Mackenzie said
"Sheila, it wass time you will go indoors, if you
have nothing about your head. Go in and sing
song to US, and we will listen to you; and not a sad
song, but 3. good merry song. These teffles of the
fisbermen, it iss always drownings they will sing abou^
from the morning tili the night."
Was Sheila about to sing in this clear, strnge
twilight, while they sat there and watched the yellow
moon come up behind the southem hls! Lavender
had heard so much of her singing of those fishermen's
ballads, that he could thmk of nothing more to add
to the encbantment of this wonderful night. But he
was disappointed. Tiie girl put her hand on her
father's head, and reminded him that she had had her
big greyhound Bras imprisoned all the afternoon, that
she had to go down to Bori'abosl with a message foi
some people who were leaving by the boat in the
morning, and would the gentlemen therefore excuse
her not singing to them for this one eveningl
"But you cannot go away down to Borvabost by
yourself, Sheila," said Ingram. "It will be dark be-
fore you return."
"It will not be darker than this all the night
through," said the girl.
"But I hope you will let us go with you," said
Lavender, rather anxiously; and she assented with a
gracious smile, and wenl to fetch the great deerhouniJ
that was her constant companion.
And lo! he found himself Walking with a Princess
in this wonder-land, through ihe magic twilight that
prevails in norlhem latiludes. Mackenzie and Ingram.
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 65
had gone on in front The large deerhound, after
regarding him attentively, had gone to its mistress's
side, and remained closely there. Lavender could
scarcely believe his ears that the girl was talking to
him lightly and frankly, as though she had known him
for years, and was telling him of all her troubles with
the folks at Borvabost, and of those poor people whom
she was now going to see. No sooner did he under-
stand that they were emigrants, and that they were
going to Glasgow before leaving finally for America,
than in quite an honest and enthusiastic fashion he
began to bewail the sad fate of such poor wretches as
have to forsake their native land, and to accuse the
aristocracy of the country of every act of selfishness,
and to diarge the Government with a shameful in-
difference. But Sheila brought him up suddenly. In
the gendest fashion she told him what she knew of
these poor people, and how emigration affected them,
and so forth, until he was ready to curse the honr in
which he had blundered into taking a side on a ques-
tion about which he cared nothing and knew less.
"But some other time," continued Sheila, "I will
teil you what we do here, and I will show you a great
many letters I have from friends of mine who have
gone to Greenock, and to New York, and Canada.
Oh yes, it is very bad for the old people they never
get reconciled to the change never; but it is very
good for the young people, and they are glad of it,
and are much better oflf than they were here. You
will see how proud they are of the better clothes they
have, and of good food, and money to put in the
bank; and how could they get that in the highlands,
where the land is so poor that a small piece is of no
A Prmcits 0/ ThuU, I. 5
66 A PHINCEas Oi- THULE.
use, and they have not money to rent the large shecp^
farins. It is very bad to have people go away it is
very hard on inaiiy of them but what can they doi
The piece of ground that was very good for the one;
family, that is expected to keep ihe daughters when
they many, and the sons when they mairy, and thea
there are five or six families to live on it And hard
work that will not do much, with very bad land, and
the bad weather we have here, The people get down
hearted when they have their crops spoiled by the
long rain, and they c.innot get their peats driedj and'
very often the fishing tums out bad, and they have na
money at all to carry on the farm. Bat now you wiB
see Borvabost."
Lavender had to confess that this wonderful Prin-
cess would persist in talking in a very matter- of-fact
way. All the aftemoon, while he was weaving n
Inminous web of imaginalion around her, she w
continually cvitting it asunder, and stepping forth a|
an authority on the growing of some wretched plants,
or the means by which rain was to be exciuded froa
window-sills. And now, in this strnge twilight, wheg
she ought to have been singing of the cnielties of thc
sea, or listening to half-forgotten legends of mermaiib
she was engaged with the petty fortunes of men an^
girls who were pleased to find themselves prospertsg
in the Glasgow police-force, or educating themselv!
in a milliner's shop in Edinburgh. She did not appear
conscious that she was a Princess. Indeed, she seemed
to have no consciousness of herseif at all; and was at
together occupied in giving him inforraation aboDi
practica] subjects in which he professed a profound
certaihly did not feel.
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 6^
But even Sheila, when they had reached the loftiest
part of their route, and could see beneath them the
Island and the water surrounding it, was Struck by the
exceeding beauty of the twilight; and as for her com-
panion, he remembered it many a time thereafter, as
if it were a dream of the sea. Before them lay the
Atlantic a pale line of blue, still, silent, and remote.
Overhead, the sky was of a clear, thin gold, with heavy
masses of violet cloud stretched across from north to
south, and thickening as they got near to the horizon.
Down at their feet, near the shore, a dusky line of
huts and houses was scarcely visible; and over these
lay a pale blue film of peat-smoke that did not move
in the still air. Then they saw the bay into which the
White Water runs, and they could trace the yellow
glimmer of the river stretching into the island through
a level valley of bog and morass. Far away towards
the east, lay the bulk of the island dark green un-
dulations of moorland and pasture; and there, in the
darkness, the gable of one white house had caught the
clear light of the sky, and was gleaming westward like
a Star. But all this was as nothing to the glory that
began to shine in the south-east, where the sky was
of a pale violet over the peaks of Mealasabhal and
Suainabhal. There, into the beautiful dorne, rose the
golden crescent of the moon, warm in colour, as though
it still retained the last rays of the sunset. A line of
qoivering gold feil across Loch Roag, and touched the
black hll and spars of the boat in which Sheila had
been sailing in the moming. That bay down there,
with its white sands and massive rocks, its still ex-
panse of water, and its background of mountain-
peaks palely coloured by the yellow moonlight, seemed
5*
68
really a home for a magic princess who was shut off
frora all the woiid. Eut here, in front of them, was
another sort of sea, and another sort of life a sraall
fishing-viage hidden under a cloud of pale peat
smolce, and fronting Che great waters of the Atlantic
itself, which lay under a gloom of violet clouds.
"Now," Said Sheila, with a smile, "we have not al^
ways weather as good as this in the island. Will you
not sit on the bench over there with Mr. Ingram, and'
wait until my papa and I come up frotn the vill^e
againT'
"May not I go down with you?"
"No. The dogs would learn you were a stranger
and there would be a great deal of noise, and therft
will be many of the poor people asleep."
So Sheila had her way; and she and her falher
went down the hillside into the gloom of the villagc,
while Lavender went to join bis friend Ingram, who
was sitting on the wooden bench, silently smoking a
clay pipe.
"Well, I have never seen the like of this," said
Lavender, in his impetuous way; "it is worth going a
tbousand miles to see! Such colours and such clear-
ness and then the splendid outlines of those moua-
tains, and the grand sweep of the loch ihis is
the sort of thing that drives nie to despair, and
might make one vow never to touch a brush agaiii.|
And Sheila says it will be like this all the nigl
through."
He was unaware that he had spoken of her in
very familir way; but Ingram noticed it.
"Ingram," he said, suddenly, "ihat Is ihe firsl
I have ever seen whom I should like to marry."
THERE WAS A KING IN THULE. 69
Stuff!"
^But it is true. I have never seen anyone like her
so handsome, so gentle, and yet so very frank in
setting you right. And then she is so sensible, you
know, and not too proud to have much interest in all
sorts of common afFairs "
There was a smile on Ingram's face; and his com-
panion stopped, in some vexation.
"You are not a very sympathetic confidant."
"Because I know the story of old. You have told
it me about twenty women; and it is always the same.
I teil you, you don't know an)rthing at all about Sheila
Mackenzie yet; perhaps you never may. I suppose
you will make a heroine of her, and fall in love with
her for a fortnight, and then go back to London and
get cured by listening to the witticisms of Mrs. Lor-
raine."
^'Well," Said the young man, humbly, "perhaps
I have given you reason to mistrust me; but you
will see by and by whether I am serious or not this
time/'
"Some day," Ingram continued, "no doubt, you
will love a woman for what she is, not for what you
fancy her to be; but that is a piece of good fontune
that seldom occurs to a youth of your age. To marry
in a dream, and wake up six months afterwards that
is the fate of ingenuous twenty-three. But don't you
let Mackenzie hear you talk of marrying Sheila, or
he'll have some of his fishermen throw you into Loch
Roag."
"There, now, that ts one point I can't understand
about her," said Lavender. "How can a girl of her
shrewdness and good sense have such a belief in that
r
of
r aw,
I SOI
^^^^^ am
70 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
humbugging old idiot of a father of hers, who fancies
me a political emissary, and plays small tricks to look
like diplomacy^ It is always 'My papa can do this,'
and 'My papa can do ihat,' and 'There is no one at
all like my papa.' And she is continualiy fondlinj
him, and giving little dem onstrat Ions of affection, o
which he takes no more notice than if he we
Arctic bear."
Ingram looked up with some surprise in h-
face.
"You don't mean to say, Lavender," he
slowly, "that you are already jealous of the girl's own
father 1"
He could not answer, for at this moment Sheila,
her father, and the big greyhound came up the hilL
And again it was Lavender's good fortune to walk
with Sheila across the moorland path they had tra-
versed some little time before. And now the moon
was stl higher in the heavens, and the yeUow lane of
light that crossed the vtolet waters of Loch Roaig
quivered in a deeper gold. The night air was scented
with the Dutch clover growing down by the shore.
They could hear the curlew whistling, and the plovcr
calling, amid that monotonous plash of the waves that
tnurmured all around the coast. When they retumed
to the house, the darker waters of the Atlantic, and
the purple clouds of the west, were shut out from
sight; and before them there was only the liquid piain
of Loch Roag, with its pathway of yellow fire, and fai
away on the other side ihe Shoulders and peaks of the
southem mountains, that had grown grey, and clear,
and Sharp in the beautiful twilight. And this wu
ROMANCE-TIME. 7I
CHAPTER IV.
Romance-time
Earlt moming at Borva, fresh, luminous, and
rare; the mountains in the south grown pale and cloud-
ke under a sapphire sky; the sea ruffled into a darker
blue by a light breeze from the west; and the sunlight
lying hot on the red gravel and white Shells around
Hackenzie's house. There is an odour of sweet-brier
about, hovering in the wann, still air, except at such
times as the breeze freshens a bit, and brings round
the Shoulder of the hill the cold, strnge scent of the
rocks and the sea beyond.
And on this fresh and pleasant moming, Sheila
sat in the big garden-seat in front of the house, talk-
ing to the stranger to whom she had been introduced
the day before. He was no more a stranger, however,
to all appearances; for what could be more frank and
friendly than their conversation, or more bright and
winning than the smile with which she frequently tumed
to speak or to listen? Of course, this stranger could
not be her friend as Mr. Ingram was that was im-
possible. But he talked a great deal more than Mr.
Ingram, and was apparently more anxious to please
and be pleased; and, indeed, was altogether very win-
ning, and courteous, and pleasant in his ways. Beyond
this vague impression, Sheila ventured upon no com-
parison between the two men. K her older friend
had been down, she would doubtless have preferred
talking to him about all that had happened in the
island since his last visitj but here was this newer
friend thrown, as it were, upon her hospitality, and
ji A PSmCESS OF THLE.
eager, with a most respectful and yet simple and
friendly interest, to be taught all that Ingram already
knew. Was he not, too, in mere appearance like one
of the princes she had read of in many an ancient
ballad tall, and handsome, and yellow-haired fit to
have come sailing over the sea, with a dozen merry
comrades, to carry off some sea-king's daughter to be
his bridel Sheila began to regret that the young man
knew so little about the sea, and the northem islands,
and those old stories; but then he was very anxious
to learn.
"Vou must say Mach-Kiyoda instead of Macleod,"
she was saying to him, "if you like Siyornoway better
than Stomoway, It is the Gaelic, that is all."
"Oh, it is ever so much prettier," said young
Lavender, with a quite genuine enthusiasm in his face,
not altogethet begotten of the letterj-/ "and indeed
I don't think you can possibly teil how singularly
pleasant and quaint il is to an English ear to hear
just that little softening of the vowels that the people
have here. I suppose you don't notice that they say
gyarden for garden "
They! as if he bad paid attention to the pronun-
ciation of anyone except Sheila herseif!
" but not quite so hard as I pronounce it.
And so with a great many other words that are
softened, and sweetened, and made alraost poetical in
their sound by the least bit of inflection. How sur-
prised and pleased English ladies would be to hear
you speak. Oh, I beg your pardon I did not mean
to 1 I beg your pardon "
Sheila seemed a little astonished by her com-
panion's evident mortification, and said, with a smile
ROAiANCE-TIME. 73
'^If others speak so in the island, of course I must
too! and you say it does not shock you."
His distress at his own rdeness now found an
easy vent He protested that no people could talk
EngHsh like the people of Lewis. He gave Sheila to
understand that the speech of English folks was as
the aoaking of ravens compared with the sweet tones
of the nort^em isles; and this drew him on to speak
of his friends in the South, and of London, and of
the chances of Sheila ever going thither.
"It must be so strnge never to have seen Lon-
don," he Said. "Don't you ever dream of what it is
likel Don't you ever try to think of a great space,
nearly as big as this island, all covered over with
large houses the roads between the houses all made
of stone and great bridges going over the rivers, with
railway-trains Standing By the way, you have never
Seen a railway-engine!"
He looked at her for a moment in astonishment,
as if he had not hitherto realized to himself the ab-
solute ignorance of this remote Princess. Sheila, with
some little touch of humour appearing in her calm eyes,
Said
^But I am not quite ignorant of all these things.
I have seen pictures of them, and my papa has de-
scribed them to me so often that I will feel as if I
had seen them all, and I do not think I should be
surprised except, perhaps, by the noise of the big
towns. It was many a time my papa told me of that;
but he says I cannot understand it, nor the great dis-
tance of land you travel over to get to London. That
is what I do not wish to see I was often thinking of
74 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
it, and that to pass so many places that you donot
know woiild make you very sad."
"That can be easily avoided," he said, Ughtly.
"When you go to London, you must go from Glasgow
or Edinburgh in a night train, and fall fast asleep,
and in the moming you will find yourseif in London,
wilhout having seen anything."
"Just as if one had goue across a great distancc
of sea, and come to another Island you will never
see before," said Sheila, with the grey-blue eyes,
under the black eyelashes, grown strnge and distant
"But you must not think of it as a melancholy
thing," he said, almost anxiously. "You will find
yourseif among all sorts of gaieties and amusements;
you will have cheerful people around you, and plenty
of things to see; you will drive in beautiful parks,
and go to theatres, and raeet people in large and
brilliant rooms, filled with flowers, and silver, and
light. And all through the winter, that must be so
cold and dark up here, you will find ahundance of
warmth and light, and plenty of flowers, and eveiy
sort of pleasant thing. You will hear no more of
those songs about drowned people; and you will no
longer be afraid of the storms, or listen to che waves
at night; and by and by, when you have got quite
accustomed to London, and got a great raany friends,
you might be disposed to stay there altogether; and
you would grow to think of this island as a desolate
and raelancholy place, and never seek to cotne back."
The girl rose suddenly, and tiirned to a fuchaia-
tree, pretending to pick some of its flowers. Tears
had Sprung to her eyes unbidden; and it was in rather
ROMANCE-TIME. 75
an uncertain voice that she said^ still managing to
conceal her face
"I like to hear you talk of those places; but but
I will never leave Borva,"
What possible interest could he have in combating
this decision so anxiously, almost so imploringly? He
renewed his complaints against the melancholy of the
sea, and the dreariness of the northem winters. He
described agam and again the brilliant lights and
colours of town-life in the South. As a mere matter
of experience and education she ought to go to Lon-
don; and had not her papa as good as intimated his
Intention of taking her?
In the midst of these representations, a step was
heard in the hall, and then the girl looked round with
a bright light on her face.
"Well, Sheila?" said Ingram, according to his
custom; and both the girl's hands were in his the
next minute. "You are down early. What have you
been about? Have you been telling Mr. Lavender of
the Black Horse of Loch Suainabhall"
"No; Mr. Lavender has been telling me of Lon-
don."
"And I have been trying to induce Miss Mackenzie
to pay US a visit, so that we may show her the dif-
ference between a city and an island. But all to no
purpose. Miss Mackenzie seems to like hard winters,
and darkness, and cold: and as for that perpetual and
melancholy sea, that in the winter-time I should fancy
might drive anybody into a lunatic asylum "
"Ah, you must not talk badly of the sea," said the
girl, with all her courage and brightness retumed to
her face. "It is our very good friend. It gives us
76 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
food, and keeps many people alive. It carries the
lads away lo other places, and brings them back with
money in their pockets "
"And sometimes it smashes a. few of them on the
rocks, or swallows up a dozen families, and ihe next
moming it is as smooth and fair as if nothing had
happened."
"But that is not the sea at all," said Sheila; "that
is the storms that will wreck the boats; and how can
the sea heip thati When the sea is let alone the sea
is very good to us,"
Ingram iaughed aloud, and patted the girl's head
fondly; and Lavender, blushing a Httle, confessed he
was beaten, and that he woidd never again, in Miss
Mackenzie's presence, say anything against the sea.
The King of Borva now appearing, they all went
in to breakfast; and Sheila sat opposite the wiodow,
so that all the light comtng in from the clear sky and
the sea was reflected upon her face, and lit up every
varying expression that crossed it, or that shone up in
the beautifui deeps of her eyes. Lavender, bis own
face in shadow, could look at her from time to time
himself unseen; and as he ste in almost absolute
silence, and noticed how she talked with Ingram, and
what deference she paid him, and how anxious she
was to please him, he began to wonder if he should
ever be admitted to a like friendship with her. It
was so Strange too, that this handsome, proud-
featured, proud-spirited girl should so devote herseif
to the amusement of a man like Ingram; and for-
getting all the court that should have been paid to a
pretty woman, seem delermined to persuade him that
he was conferring a favour upon her by every word
I^hA
ROMANCE-TIMB. 77
and look. Of course, Lavender admitted to himself,
Ingram was a very good sort of fellow a very good
sort of fellow indeed. If anyone was in a scrape
about money, Ingram would come to the rescue with-
out a momenfs hesitation; although the salary of a
Clerk in the Board of Trade might have been made
the excuse, by any other man, for a very justifiable
refusal. He was very clever, too had read much,
and all that kind of thing. But he was not the sort
of man you might expect to get on well with women.
Unless with very intimate friends, he was a trifle silent
and reserved. Often he was indined to be pragmatic
and sententious; and had a habit of saying unplea-
santly bitter things, when some careless joke was being
made. He was a little dingy in appearance; and a
man who had a somewhat cold manner, who was sal-
low of face, who was obviously getting grey, and who
was generally insignificant in appearance, was not the
sort of man, one would think, to fascinate an excep-
donally handsome girl, who had brains enough to
know the fineness of her own face. But here was this
Princess paying attentions to him such as must have
driven a more impressionable man out of his senses;
while Ingram sat quiet and pleased, sometimes mak-
ing fun of her, and generally talking to her as if she
were a child. Sheila had chatted very pleasantly with
him, Lavender, in the moming; but it was evident
that her relations with Ingram were of a very different
kind, such as he could not well understand. For it
was scarcely possible that she could be in love with
Ingram; and yet surely the pleasure that dwelt in her
expressive face when she spoke to him, or listened to
him, was not the result of a mere friendship.
78 A PB1NCE5S OF THULE.
If I,avunder had been told at that moment that
these two were lovers, and that they were looking for-
ward lo an early marriage, he would have rejoiced
with an enthusiasin of joy. He would have honestly
and cordially shaken Ingram by the band; he would
have made plans for introducing the young bride to
all the people he knew; and he wouJd have gone
straight off, on reaching London, to buy Sbea a
magnificent bracelet, even if he had to borrow the
money from Ingram hiraself.
"And have you got rid yet of the Airgiod-ceare,*
Sheilal" said Ingram, suddenly breaking in upon these
dreams; "or does every owner of hens still pay his
annual Shilling to the Lord of Lewisl"
"It is not away yet," said the girl, "but when Sir
James coines io the autumn, I will go over to Stomo-
way, and ask him to take away tJie tax, and I know
he will do it, for what is the Shilling worth to him,
when he has spent thousands and thousands of
pounds on the Lewisl But it will be very hard on
some of the poor people that only keep one or two
hens; and I will teil Sir James of all that "
"Von will do nothirig of the kind, Sheila," said
her father, impatiently. "What is the Airgiod-eeare to
you, that you will go over to Stomoway only to be
laughed at, and make a fool of yourself?"
"That is noihing, not anything at all," said the
girl, "if Sir James will only take away the tax."
"Why, Sheila, they would treat you as another
Lady Godiva," said Ingram, with a good-humourcd
siTie,
"But Miss Mackenzie is quite right." exclaimed
ProBounccd Argyud-chatk ; liHially, Hcn-money.
ROMANCE-TIlklE. 79
Lavender, with a sudden flush of colour leaping into
his handsome face, and an honest glow of admiration
into his eyes; "I think it is a very noble thing for her
to do, and nobody, either in Stomoway or anywhere
eise, would be such a brte as to laugh at her for try-
ing to help those poor people, who have not too many
frunds and defenders, God knows!"
Ingram looked surprised. Since when had the
yoong gentleman across the table acquired such a
singiar interest in the poorer classes, of whose very
enstence he had for the most part seemed unaware?
But the enthusiasm in his face was quite honest; there
could be no doubt of that. As for Sheila, with a
beating heart, she ventured to send to her diampion
a brief and timid glance of gratitude, which the young
man observed, and never forgot
'^You will not know what it is all about/' said the
King of Borva, with a peevish air, as though it were
too bad that a person of his authority should have to
descend to petty details about a hen-tax. "It is many
and many a tax and a due Sir James will take away
from his tenants in the Lewis, and he will spend more
money a thousand times than ever he will get back;
and it was this Airgiod-cearc^ it will stand in the place
of a great many other things taken away, just to re-
mind the folk that they have not their land all in
their own right. It is many things you will have to
do in managing the poor people, not to let them get
too proud, or forgetful of what they owe to you; and
now there is no more tacksmen to be the masters of
the small crofters, and the crofters they would think
they were landlords themselves if there were no dues
for them to pay."
8o A PRINCESS OF THULE.
1
"I have heard of those raiddle-men; they wert
dreadful tyrants and thieves, weren't they^' said
Lavender.
Ingram kicked his foot under the table.
"I mean that was the populr Impression of them
^a vulgr error, I presume," continued the young
man, in die coolest raanner. "And so you have got
rid of them! Well, I daresay many of them were
honest men, and suffered very unjustly in common
report."
Mackenzie answered nothing, but his daughter
said quickly^
"But you know, Mr. Lavender, they have not gone
away merely because they cease to have the letting of
the land to the crofters. They have still their old
holdings, and so have the croflers in most cases.
Everyone now holds direct from the proprietor, that
is all."
"So that there is no difference between the fonner;
lacksmen and his serf, except the relative size of their.
farmsl"
"Well, the crofters have no leases, but the tacks-
men have," said the girl, somewhat timidly; and thea
she added, "But you have not decided yet, Mr. In-
gram, what you will do to-day. It is too clear for the
salmon-fishing. Will you go over to Mevaig, and
show Mr. Lavender the Bay of ig, and the Seven
Hunters?"
"Surely we must show him Borvabost first, Sheila,"'
said Ingram. "He saw nothing of it last night, in the
dark; and l think, if you ofTered to take Mr. Lavender
round in your boat, and show him what a clever
KOlCANCfi-TIMR. 8 t
saOor Jon are, he woald piefer that to Walking over
thehL"
'^I can take yoa all round in the boat, certainly,"
Said the girl, with a quick blush of pleasure; and
forthwitfa a message was sent to Duncan, that cushions
should be taken down to the Mcghean-mhara^ the
ttle vessel of wfaich Sheila was both skipper and
pikit
How beantifiil was the fair sea-picture that lay
voand them, as the MaigMean-mhara stood out to
the mouth of Loch Roag on this bright summer mom-
ing! Sheila sat in the stem of the small boat, her
band on the tiller. Bras lay at her feet, his nose be-
tveen his long and shaggy paws. Duncan, grave
and watchful as to the winds and the points of the
coast, sat amidships, with the mainsail-sheet hdd fast,
and superintended the seamanship of his young mis-
tress, with a respectful but most evident pride. And
as Ingram had gone ofif with Mackenzie to walk over
to the White Water before going down to Borvabost,
Frank Lavender was Sheila's sole companion, out in
this wonder-land of rock, and sea, and blue sky.
He did not talk much to her; and she was so well
occupied with the boat that he could regard with im-
punity the shifting lights and graces of her face and
all the wonder and winning depths of her eyes. The
sea was blue around them. The sky overhead had
not a speck of cloud in it. The white sand-bays, the
green Stretches of pastiure, and the far and spectral
mountains trembled in a haze of sunlight Then
there was all the delight of the fresh and cool wind,
the hissing of the water along the boat, and joyous
rapidity with which the small vessel, lying over a
A Princets qf ThuU, /. G
82 A PRINCSSS OF THULE.
little, ran through the crisply curling waves, and
brought into view the newer wonders of the open-
ing sea.
Was it not all a dream that he shonld be sittmg
by the side of this Sea-Princess, who was attended
only by her deerhonad and tiie tall keepert And if
a ^eam, why shonld it not go on for evert To live
for ever in this magic land to have tiie Princess her-
seif to carry him in this little boat into the qmet bays
of the islands, or out at night, in moonlight, on the
open sea to forget for ever the godless South and
its social phantasmagoria, and live in this beautifnl
and distant solitnde, with the solemn secrets of the
hills and the moving deep for ever present to tiie
imagination, might not that be something of a nobler
lifel And some day or other he would take this
Island-Princess up to London, and he would bid the
women that he Imew the scheming mothers and the
doll-like daughters stand aside from before this per-
fect work of God. She would carry with her the
mystery of the sea in the depths of her eyes, and the
music of the far hills would be heard in her voice,
and all the sweetness, and purity, and brightness of
the clear sunimer skies would be mirrored in her in-
nocent souL She would appear in London as some
wild-plumaged bird, hailing fixm distant dimes, and
before she had lived there long enough to grow sad,
and have the weight of the city douding the bright-
ness of her eyes, she would be spirited away again
into this strnge sea-kingdom, where there seemed to
be perpetual sunshine, and the light music of waves.
Poor Sheila! she little knew what was ezpected of
her, or the sort of drama into which she was being
ROHANCE-TIME. 83
tliTOwn as a central figure. She little knew that she
was being transfonned into a wonderful creature of
romance, who was to put to shame the gentle dames
and maidens of London society and do many other
extraordinaiy things. But what would have appeared
the most extraordinary of all these speculations, if she
had only known of them, was the assumption that she
would marry Frank Lavender. That the young man
hA qaite naturally taken for granted but, perhaps
only as a basis of bis imaginative scenes. In order
to do these things she would have to be married to
somebody; and why not to himselfl Think of the
pride he would have in leading this beautiful girl,
with her quaint manners and fashion of speech, into
a London drawing-room. Would not everyone wish
to know herl Would not everyone listen to her sing-
ing ofthose Gaelic songs? for, of course, she must
sing well. Would not all his artist friends be anxious
to paint herl and she would go to the Academy to
convince the loungers there how utterly the canvas
had failed to catch the light and dignity and sweet-
ness of her face.
When Sheila spoke he started.
"Did you not see it?"
"Whatl"
**The seal; it rose for a moment just over there,"
Said the girl, with a great interest visible in her eyes.
The beautiful dreams he had been dreaming were
considerably shattered by this interruption. How
could a fairy Princess be so interested in some com-
mon animal showing its head out of the sea? It also
occurred to him just at this moment, that if Sheila
and Mairi went out in this boat by themselves, the^
f *
OF THULK.
must be in the habit of hoisting up the mainsail, and.
was such rde and coarse worlc befitting llie character
of a PrincessJ
"He looks very like a black man in the water
when his head comes up," said Sheila, "when
water is smooth so thaC you will see hitn look at ;
But I have not told you yet about the Black Horsc
that Alister-nan-Each saw at Loch SuainabhaJ ona
night. Loch Suainabhal, that is inland, and fresh.
water, so it was not a seal; but Alister was going,
along the shore, and he saw it lying up by the road,.
and he looked at it for a long time. It was quite
black, and he thought it was a boat; but when ha
carae near he saw it begin to move, and then it went,
down across the shore and splashed into the loch.
And it bad a head bigger than a horse, and quite,
black, and it made a noise as it went down the shore,
to the loch."
"Don't you think Alister must have been taking ^
little Whisky, Miss MackenzieJ"
"No, not that, for he came to nie jast after he
will see the beast."
'And do you really believe he aaw such an ani-
mal?" said Lavender, with a sroile,
"I do not know," said the girl, gravely. "Perhaps
it was only a fright and he iraagined he saw it; but I
do not know it is impossible there can be such j
animal at Loch Suainabhal. But that is nothing.
is of no consequence. But I have seen stranger thingsj
than the Black Horse, that niany people will not be-
lieve."
"May I ask what they are]" he said, gently.
"Some other time, perhaps, I will teil you; but
ROMANCE-TIME. 85
there is a great deal of explanation about it and
you see, we are going in to Borvabost."
Was this, then, the capital of the small empire
over which ie Princess ruled? He saw before him
but a long row of small huts or hovels resembling
beehives, which stood above the curve of a white bay,
aad at one portion of the bay was a small creek, near
which a number of large boats, bottom iipwards, lay
on the beach. What odd little dwellings those were!
The walls, a few feet high, were built of rde blocks
of stone or slices of turf; and from those low Sup-
ports rose a rounded roof of straw, which was thatched
over by a fmther layer of turf. There were few
Windows, and no chimneys at all not even a hole in
ie roof. And what was meant by the two men who,
Standing on one of the turf walls, were busily en-
gaged in digging into the rieh brown and black
thatch and heaving it into a cart? Sheila had to ex-
plain to him that, while she was doing everything in
her power to get the people to suffer the introduction
of Windows, it was hopeless to think of chimneys; for
by carefuUy guarding against the egress of the peat-
smoke, it slowly saturated the thatch of the roof,
which, at certain periods of the year, was then taken
off to dress the fields, and a new roof of straw put on.
By this time they had run the Maighean-mhara the
Sea Maiden into a creek, and were climbing up the
steep beach of shingle that had been wom smooth by
the waters of the Atlantic.
"And will you want to speak to me, Ailasal" said
Sheila, turning to a small girl who had approached
her somewhat diffidently.
She was a pretty little thing, with a round fair
86 A VSHSCESS QW THLZ.
face, tazmed by ie son, farown hair, and soft daik
ejes^ She was bare-headed, bare^ooted, and bare-
aimed; bot she was otiberwise smaidj- dressed, and
she held in her band an enomioas fiocmder ap p aic ndy
aboixt half as hezfj as heisel
"^WUL je hef die fesh, Miss SheO^r said die sauJl
AHasa, holding out die fioander, bat looking down au
'^Did joa catch it joozsd^ Aasat"
^Yes, It wass Donaki and me; we wass out in a
boat, and Donald had a line."
*And it is a present for met" said Shea, patting
the small head and its wd and soft hair. ^Thank
joOy Aliasa. Bat joa nmst ask Donald to canj it 119
to the hoase and give it to Main. I cannot take it
with me just now, joa know."
There was a small boj cowcring bdiind one of
the aptomed boals; and, bj his fintive pecfungs diow-
ing that he was in leagoe with his sister. Aasa, not
thinking that she was discovering his whereaboats^
tomed qoite natoiallj in that direcdony ont she was
saddenlj stopped bjLaTcnder, who caUed to her, and
pot his band in his podcet. Bot he was too late.
Shea had stepped in, and, with a qoick look, which
was all the protest that was needed, shat her band over
the half-crown he had in his fingers.
^Never mind, Ailasa," she said. *Go awaj and
get Donald, and bid him caiij the fish up to Maiii"
Lavender put the half-crown in his pocket in a
iomewhat dazed fashion: what he chieflj knew was
that Sheila had for a moment hdd his band in hers
and that her eyes had met bis.
Welli that litde inddent of Aasa and the floonder
ROMANCE-TIME. 87
was rather pleasant to him. It did not shock the
lomantic associations he had begun to weave around
bis fiair companion. But when they had gone up to
the cottages Mackenzie and Ingram not yet having
anived and when Sheila proceeded to teil him about
the circumstances of the fishermen's lives, and to ex-
plain how such and such things were done in the
fields, and in the pickling-houses, and so forth, La-
vender was a little disappointed. Sheila took him into
some of the cottages, or rather hovels, and he vaguely
knew in the darkness that she sat down by the low
glow of the peat-fire, and began to ask the women
about all sorts of improvements in the walls and Win-
dows, and gardens, and what not. Surely it was not
for a Princess to go advising people about particular
sorts of soap; or offering to pay for a pane of glass if
the husband of the woman would make the necessary
aperture in the stone wall. The picture of Sheila ap-
pearing as a Sea-Princess in a London drawing-room
was all very beautiful in its way; but here she was
discussing as to the quality given to broth by the
addition of a certain vegetable which she offered to
send down from her own garden if the cottager in
question would try to grow it.
"I wonder, Miss Mackenzie," he said, at length,
when they got outside his eyes dazed with the light,
and smarting with the peat-smoke "I wonder you can
trouble yourself with such little matters that those
people should find out for themselves."
The girl looked up with some surprise.
"That is the work I have to do. My papa cannot
do everything in the island."
"But what is the necessity for your bothering your-
88 A PKINCESS OF THULE.
seif about such tliings) Surely tiiey oiight to be able
to look after their own gardens and houses. It is no
degradation certainly not; for anylhing you interested
yoiirself in would become worthy of attention by the
very factj but, after all, it seems such a pity you
should give up your time to those commonplace de-
tails '*
"But some one must do it," said the girl, quitcin-
nocently; "and my papa has no time. And they will
be very good in doing what I ask them everyone in
the ialand."
Was this a wilfu! afTectationl he said to himself.
Or was she rcally incapable of undcrstanding that
liiere was anything incongruous in a young lady of
her Position, education, and refinement, busying her-
seif with the curing of fish and the cost of hmel He
had himself marked the incongruity long ago, when
Ingram had been telling him of the remote and beautl-
ful maiden whose only notions of the world had been
derived from literature who was more familir with
the raagic land in which Endymion wandered than
with any other and that, at the same time, she was
abotit as good as her father al planning a wooden
bridge ovet a stream. When Lavender had got out-
Bide again^when he found himself Walking with her
along the white beach, in front of the blue Atlantic
she was again the Princess of his dreams. He looked
at her face, and he saw in her eyes that she must bc
familir with all the romantic nooks and glades of
English poetry. The plashing of the waves down
there, and the music of her voice, recalied the sad
legends of the shermen he hoped to hear her sing.
But ever and anon ihcre occiirrcd a jarring recollection.
R0MANC-T1M. 89
whether arising from a contradiction between his notion
of Sheila and the actual Sheila, or whether from some
incongruity in himself, he did not stop to consider.
He ohij ktiew that a beautiful maiden who had lived
by the sea all her life, and who had foUowed the
Wanderings of Endymion in the enchanted forest, need
not have been so particular about a method of boil-
ing potatoes, or have shown so much interest in a
pattem for children's frocks.
Mackenzie and Ingram met them. There was the
usual ''Well, Sheila 1" foUowed by a thousand ques-
tions about the very things she had been inquiring
into. That was one of the odd points about Ingram
that puzzled and sometimes vexed Lavender; for, if
you are Walking home at night, it is inconvenient to
be accompanied by a friend who would stop to ask
about the circumstances of some old crone hobbling
along the pavement, or who could linger on his own
doorstep to have achat with a garrulous policeman.
Ingram was about as odd as Sheila herseif in the at-
tention he paid to those wretched cotters and their
doings. He could not advise on the important subject
of broth, but he would have tasted it by way of dis-
covery, even if it had been presented to him in a tea-
cup. He had already been prowling round the place
with Mackenzie. He had inspected the apparatus in
the creek for hauling up the boats. He had visited
the curing-houses. He had examined the heaps of fish
drying on the beach. He had drunk whiskey with
John the Piper, and shaken hands with Alister-nan-
Each. And now he had come to teil Sheila that the
piper was bringing down luncheon from Mackenzie's
house, and that after they had eaten and drank on the
90 A PBINCESS OF THtJLE.
white beach, thy would put out the MaighJean-mhara
once more to sea, and sail over to Mevaig, that the
stranger might see the wondrous sands of the Bay
of Uig.
But it was not in consonance with the dignity of
a King that his guests should eat frora off the pebbles,
like so many fisbermen, and when Mairi and another
girl brought down the baskets, luncheon was placed in
the Stern of the small vessel, whe Duncan got up the
sails and put out from the stone quay. As for John
the Piper, was he insulted at having been sent on a
menial errand! Tbey had scarcely got away from the
shore when the sound of the pipes was wafted to them
from the hill-side above, and it was the "Lamenl of
Mackrimmon" that foilowed them out to sea
that was the wild and ominous air that was skirUng
up on the hill-side; and Macke nzie 's face, as he heaid
it, grew wroth.
"That teffle of a piper John!" he said, with an in-
voluntary stamp of his foot; "what for will he be play-
ing Cha tili mi luilkh?"
"It is out of mischief, papa," said Sheila; "that
is all."
"It will be more than mischief if I burn his pipes,
and drive him out of Borva. Then there will be no
more of mischief."
"It is very bad of John to do that," said Sheila to
Lavender, apparently in explanation of her father's
anger; "for we have given him shelter here, when there
will be no more pipes in all the Lewis. It was the
Free Church ministers they pul down the pipes, for
ROMANCE-TIME. 9I
tbere was too madi wildness at the marriages when
tiie pipes woold play."
'And wfaat do the people dance to nowl" asked
the yomig gentleman, who seemed to resent this piece
of patemal govemment
SheQa laughed, in an embarrassed way.
'Miss Mackenzie would rather not teil you," said
Ingram. ^The fact is, the noble mountaineers of these
districts have had to fall back on the JeVs-harp. The
ministers allow that instrument to be used I suppose
because there is a look of piety in the name. But the
dancing doesn't get very mad when you have two or
three young fellows playing a strathspey on a bit of
trembling wire."
"That teffle of a piper John!" growled Mackenzie,
once more; and so the MaigMean-mhara lightly sped
on her way, opening out the various headlands of the
Islands, until at last she got into the narrows by Ei-
lean-Aird-Meinish, and ran up the long arm of the
sea to Mevaig.
They landed, and went up the rocks. Theypassed
one or two small white houses, overlooking the still,
green waters of the sea; and then, following the line
of a river, plunged into the heart of a strnge and
lonely district, in which there appeared to be no life.
The river-track took them up a great glen, the sides
of which were about as sheer as a railway-cutting.
There were no trees or bushes about, but the green
pasture along the bed of the Valley wore its brightest
colours in the warm sunlight, and far up on the hill-
sides, the browns and crimsons of the heather and the
silver-grey of the rocks trembled in the white haze of
92 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
thc heaL Over thal again the blue sky, as still and
silent as the world below.
They wandered on, content with idleness and a
fine day. Mr. Mackenzie was talking, wilh some liltle
loudne^, so tliat Lavender mighi hear, of Mr. John
Stuart Mill, and was anxious to convey to Tedlngram
that a wise man, who is responsible for tiie well-being
of his fellow-creatures, will study all sides of all ques-
tions, however dangerous. Sheila was doing her best
to entertain the stranger; and he, in a dream of his
own, was listening to the information she gave him.
How much of it did he carry awayl He was told Ihat
the grey-goose built its nest in the rushes at the edge
of lakes. Sheila knew scveral nests in Borva. Sheila
also cavight the young of the wild duck when the
mother was guiding thetn down ihe hill-rivulets to i "
sea. She had tanied many of them, catching thera
thiis before they could fly. The names of most of the
mountains about hete eoded in bhal, which was i
Gaelic corruption of the Norsc fiall, a mountain. There
were many Norse naraes all through the Lewis, but
more particularly towards the Butt The termination
boil, for example, at the end of many words, meant
an inhabited place; but she fancied bosl was Danish.
And did Mr. Lavender know of the legend connected
with the air of Cha Hilf cha tili ml luilich?
Lavender started as from a trance, with an i
pression that he had been desperalely rde. He was^
about to say that the grey gosling in the legend could
not speak Scandinavian, when he was interrupted by
Mr, Mackenzie tuming and asking him if he knew
froni what ports the English smacks hailed that came
up hither to the cod and thc ling fishing for a couple
k
OMANCE-TIME. 93
of months in the utumn. The young man said he
did not know: there were many fishermen at Brighton.
And when the King of Borva turned to Ingram, to
see why he was shouting with laughter, Miss Sheila
suddenly announced to the party that before them lay
the great Bay of Uig.
It was certainly a strnge and impressive scene.
They stood on the top of a lofty rnge of hill, and
undemeath them lay a vast semi-circle, miles in extent,
of gleaming white sand, that had in bygone ages been
washed in by the Atlantic Into this vast piain of
silver whiteness, the sea, entering by a somewhat
narrow portal, stretched in long arms of a pale blue.
Elsewhere, the great cxescent of sand was surrounded
by a low line of rocky hill, showing a thousand tints
of olive-green, and grey, and heather-purple; and
beyond that again rose the giant bulk of Mealasabhal
grown pale in the heat into the southem sky.
There was not a ship visible along the blue piain of
the Atlantic. The only human habitation to be seen
in the strnge world beneath them was a solitary
manse. But away towards the summit of Mealasabhal
two specks slowly circled in the air, which Sheila
thought were eagles; and far out on the western sea,
lying like dusky whales in the vague blue, were the
Flannen islands the remote and unvisited Seven
Hunters y whose only inhabitants are certain ocks of
sheep belonging to dwellers on the mainland of
Lewis.
The travellers sat down on a low block of gneiss,
to rest themselves; and then and there did the King
of Borva recite his grievances and rage against the
English smacks. Was it not enough that they should
in pscsii^ steal fite ^Kcp, bot Dnt Aey ^Knld dsdj
in mere -aanbrnness, sblk tbcm as deer, woosdini
tbciB widi lifle-boDc, snd texring Aem to die amoD]
tbe rocksl Sbex said biAKl; dnt oo ooe cosld td
that it was the En^ish rwl.' iBi iii lAo did tfaaL WI^
not (be crews of meidiaot-ressds, 4o migbt be o
saj nadonl It ns irar to chaige npon any bod]
of mea sadi a dcspicablc ad, wbcn tfaete
pfoof of it whaterer.
"Wfaf, Shefla," Said IngraiB, wiA some
"jTO Derer doobtcd befwc that it was tfae
smacks that IdDed tbe sbeep."
Sbeila cast down ba efes, and said notbing.
Was thc sinister prophccy of John tbe Piper to b
fiilSlIedT Hidcenzie was so mncfa engaged in ex
poandmg potitics to Ingram, and Shea was so proui
lo show her cocapanioQ all tbe wondeis of Uig, tha)
when tbC7 retnrncd to Mevaig in the erening. the winc
bad altt^etber gonc down, and die sea was as a s
of glass. But if Jobn the PipCT had been ready to
foretell for Mackenzie the fate of Mackrimmon, he hat
taken means to defeat destiny bj bringing over from
Borvabost a large and heavy boat pulled by six lowera.
These wcre not strapping yoiing fellows, dad
best blae cloth to be got in Siomoway, but eldcily
men, grey, wrinkled, weather-beaten, and hard of fac^
who sat stolidly in the boat and lislened with a sorf
of bovine gazc to the old hunchback's wicked sloriei
and jokes. John was in a mischievous mood; bat
I,avcnder, in a confidential whisper, informed Shea
thflt her father would speedily be avenged on the
miiderate piper.
"Come, men, singusasong, quick!" said Macken zi^
ROMANCE-TIMB. 95
as the party took their seats in the stem, and the great
oars splashed into the sea of gold. ^'Look sharp,
John and no teffle of a drowning song!"
In a shrill, high, querulous voice, the piper, who
was himself pulling one of the two stroke oars, began
to sing; and then the men behind him, gathering
courage, joined in an octave lower, their voices being
even more uncertain and lugubrious than his own.
These poor fishermen had not had the musical educa-
tion of Clan-Alpine's warriors. The Performance was
not enlivening; and as the monotonous and melancholy
sing-song that kept time to the oars told its story in
Gaelic, all that the English strangers could make out
was an occasional reference to Jura, or Scarba, or
Isla. It was, indeed, the song of an exile shut up in
"seawom Mull," who was complaining of the weari-
some look of the neighbouring islands.
"But why do you sing such Gaelic as that, John?"
Said young Lavender, confidently. "I should have
thought a man in your position the last of the
Hebridean bards would have known the classical
Gaelic Don't you know the classical Gaelic?"
"There iss only the wan sort of Kllic, and it iss
a feny goot sort of KUic," said the piper, with some
show of petulance.
"Do you mean to teil me you don't know your
own tonguel Do you not know what the greatest of
all the bards wrote about your own island? O et
praesidium et dulce decus meum, agus, Tityre tu patulae
recubans sub tegmine Styornoway, Arma virumque
cano, Macklyoda^ et Borvahost sub tegmine fagil"
Not only John the Piper, but all the men behind
him, began to look amazed and sorely troubled; and
96 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
all the more so that Ingram who had picked up
more Gaelic words than his friend came to bis assiat-
ance, and beganto talk to him in this unknown tongue.
They heard references in the conversation to persons
I and things with which they were familir in their own
language, but still accompanied by miich more they
I could not understand. The men now bcgan to whisper
awe-stricken questions to each other; and at last John
the Piper could not resCrain his curiosity.
"What in ta name of Kott is tat sort of KllicJ"
he asked, with some loolc of fear in his eyes.
"You are not much of a Student, John," said
Lavender, carelessly, "but still a man in your position
should know something of your own language. A.
bard, a poet, and not know the classical form of your
own tongue!"
"Is it ta VVelsh KUic!" cried John, in desperation;
for he knew that ihe men behind him would cariy
the Story of his ignorance all over Borvabost.
"The Welsh Gaelic! No, I see you will have to
go to school again."
"There iss no more Klc in ta schools," said the,
Piper, eagerly seizing the excuse. "It iss Miss Sheila;
she will hef put away all ta KiLllic from ta schools."
"But you ivere bom half a Century before Miss
Sheila: how is it you neglected to kam that form of
Gaelic that has beeo sacred to the use of the bards
and poets since the time of Ossiani"
There were no more quips or cranks for John the
Piper during Ihe rest of the pull home. The wretched
man relapsed into a nioody silence, and worked
mechanically at his oar, brooding over this mysterious
language of which he had not even heard. As for
HOMANCE-TIME. 97
Lavender, he tumed to Mackenzie, and begged to
know what he thought of affairs in France.
And so they sailed back to Borvabost, over the
smooth water that lay like a lake of gold. Was it
not a Strange sight to see the Atlantic one vast and
smooth yellow piain, ander the great glow of saffron
that spread across the regions of the sunset) It was
a World of light, unbroken but by the presence of a
heavy coaster that had anchored in the bay, and that
sent a long line of trembling black down on the
perfect mirror of the sea. As they got near the shore,
the portions that were in shadow showed with a
Strange distinctness the dark green of the pasture and
the Sharp outlines of the rocks; and there was a cold
scent of sea-weed in the evening air. The six heavy
oars splashed into the smooth bay. The big boat was
moored to the quay; and its passengers landed once
more in Borva. And when they turned, on their way
home, to look from the brow of the hill on which
Sheila had placed a garden-seat, lo! all the west was
on fire, the mountains in the south had grown dark
on thqir eastem side, and the piain of the sea was
like a lake of blood, with the heavy huU and masts of
the coaster grown large, and solemn, and distant.
There was scarcely a ripple around the rocks at their
feet to break the stillness of the approaching twilight.
So another day had passed, devoid of adventure
or incident. Lavender had not rescued his wonderful
Princess from an angry sea, nor had he shown prowess
in slaying a dozen stags, nor in any way distinguished
himself. To all outward appearance, the relations of
the party were the same at night as they had been in
the moming. But the greatest crises of life steal on
A Princess of ThuU, I. 7
l PHINCESS OF THULE.
US imperceptibly, and have sometimes occurred andi
wouDd US in their consequences before we know. The]
memorable things in a man's career are not always]
raarked by some sharp convulsion. The youth doeaj
not necessarily many the girl whom he happens tOj
fish out of a niillpoad: his future life may be far morej
deiinitely shaped for him at a prosaic dinner-table^,
where he fancies he is only Ihinking of the winea.
We are indeed but as children seated on the shore,,
watching the rlpples that come in to our feet; and'
while the ripples unceasingly repeat themselves, and^
while the hour that passes is but as the hour befo,
it, constellation after constellation has gone by ovcr]
our heads unheeded and unseen, and we awake with,
a Start to find ourselves in a new day, with all our
fonner life cut off from us and become as a dream.
^
CHAPTER V.
A KNOCKTNG at Ingram's door.
"Well, whafs the matter!"
"Will ye be goin to ta fishin', Mr. Ingrami"
"Is that you, Duncani How the devil have you
got over from Mevaig at this hour of the moming?''.
"Oh, there wass a bit breeze tis moming, and I
hef proiight over ta Maighdtan-mhara. And there
a very goot ripple on ta watter, if you will tek ta
other gentleman to try for ta salroon."
"All righL Hammer at his door until he gets up.
I sliall be ready in ten minutes,"
About half-an-hour thereafter the two young men
itanding at the front of Macken?.ie's house,
SHEILA SINGS. 99
cxamining the enormous rod that Duncan had placed
against the porch. It was still early moming, and
there was a cold wind blowing in from the sea; but
there was not a speck of cloud in the sky, and the
day promised to be hot. The piain of the Atlantic
was no longer a sheet of glass; it was rough and
grey, and far out an occasional quiver of white
showed where a wave was hissing over. There was
not much of a sea on; but the heavy wash of the
water round the rocks and sandy bays could be dis-
tinctiy heard in the silence of the moming.
And what was this moving object down there by
the shore, where the Maighdean-mhara lay at anchorf
Both the young men at once recognized the glimmer
of the small white feather, and the tightly-fitting rough
blue dress of the Sea-Princess.
"Why, there is Sheila!" cried Ingram. "What in
all the World is she about at such an hour?"
At this moment Duncan came out, with a book of
flies in his hand, and he said, in rather a petulant
way
"And it iss no wondef Miss SheDa will be out
And it wass Miss Sheila herseif will teil me to see if
you will go to ta White Water and try for a salmon."
"And she is bringing up something from the boat:
I must go and carry it for her," said Lavender, making
down the path to the shore with the speed of a deer.
When Sheila and he came up the hill, there was
a fine colour in the girl's face from her moming's
exertions; but she was not disposed to go indoors to
rest On the contrary, she was soon engaged in
helping Mairi to bring in some coffee to the parlour;
whe Duncan cut slices of ham and cold beef big
7*
I
lOO A PRINCESS OF THULE.
enough to have provisioned a fishing-boat bound for
Caiiness. Sheila had had her breakfast; so she
devoted all her time to waiting upon her two guests,
undl Lavender could scarcely eat through the embar-
rassnient produced by her noble servitude. Ingram
was not so sensitive, and niade a very good meal
indeed.
"Where's your father, Sheila)" said Ingram, when
the last of their preparations had been made, and they
were about to slarC for the river. "Isn't he up yeil"
"My fatherl" said the girl, wEth ihe least possible
elevation of her eyebrows; "he will be down at Eorva-
bost an hour ago. And I hope that John the Piper
will not see him this moming. But we must make
haste, Mr. Ingram, for the wind will fall when the sun
gets stronger, and then your friend will have no more
of the fishing."
So they set out, and Ingram put Sheila's band C
his arm, and took her along with him in that fashion,
while the tall gillie walked behind with Lavender, who
was or was not pleased with the arrangement Tlie
young man, indeed, was a Irifle silent; but Duncan
n amiable and communicative mood, and
e time in telling him stories of the salmoa
he had caught and of the people who had tried to
catch them and failed. Sheila and Ingram certainly
good pace up the hill and round the suinmit
of it, and down again into the valley of the V
Watcr. The light step of the girl seemed lo be aa
fll of spring as the heather on which she Irod; and'
for her feet getting wet, the dew must have soake
them long ago. She was in the btjghtest of spirits.
JiSvendcr could hear her laughing in a low pleased
SHEILA SINGS. lOI
fashion; and then presently her head would be tumed
up towards her companion, and all the light of some
humorous anecdote would appear in her face and in
her eloquent eyes, and it would be Ingram's tum to
break out into one of those short abrupt laughs that
had something sardonic in them.
But hark! from the other side of the valley comes
another sound the faint and distant skirl of the
pipes; and yonder is the white-haired hunchback, a
mere speck in a waste of brown and green morass.
What is he pla3ring to himself now?
"He is a foolish fellow, that John," said the tall
keeper; "for if he comes down to Borvabost this
moming, it iss Mr. Mackenzie will fling his pipes in
ta sea, and he will hef to go away and work in ta
steamboat. He iss a ferry foolish fellow; and it wass
him tat wass goin' into ta steamboat before, and he
went to a tailor in Styomoway, and he said to him,
*I want a pair o' troosers.' And the tailor said to
him, *What sort o* troosers iss it you will wanti'
And he said to him, *I want a pair o' troosers for
a steamboat' A pair o' troosers for a steamboat!
who ever heard of a steamboat wantin' troosers]
And it wass him that went in ta steamboat with a
lot o' freens o' his, that wass a' goin' to Skye to a
big weddin' there; and it wass a very bad passage,
and when tey got into Portree, the captain said to
him, *John, where iss all your freens that tey do not
come ashore?' And he said to him, *I hef been down
below, sir, and four-thirds o' ta whole o' them are a'
half-trooned, and sick, and tead.' Four-thirds o' ta
whole o' them! and he iss just the ferry man to
)02 A PRINCES5 Of THULE,
bugh ax every other pody when it iss a mistalcc ym
will makc in la English."
"1 Buppose," Said Lavender, "you foiind it laiher
difcult 10 learD good English!"
"Well, sir, I hefna got la goot English yet, But
Miss Sheila she has put away all tlte Gaelic &om the
bcboob, and ie yoimg ones ihey will ieam more of
U good English after thaX."
"i. wish 1 knew as much Gaelic as you knoir
Engliiih," &aid the young man.
"Oh, you will soon learn. It iss veiy easy, if you
will only stay in ta island."
"It would lake mc several montbs to pick it up, X
suppose?"
"Ob, ye nine or six ihat will do," said Duncan.
" ifou will begin to Ieam ta name o" ta islands and ta
places. There now, as far as you can see, is ta Seumt
heittn and it raeans ta oid hill. And therc is a
rock there it is Stat-tian-Balg "
Uere Duncan looked rather perplexed.
"Ves," said Lavender, "what does tbat meanl"
"It means it means," said Duncan, in still greater
perplexity, and geliing a little impatient, "it means
tiae, tat iss a steep rock Stack-nan-Balg it means
well, sir, // ower dtep for ta English."
The tone of mortiricalion in wliich Duncan uttered
thcse words wamed Lavender that his philological
fitudies might as well cease; and, indeed, Sheila and
Ingraiii had by this time reached the banks of the
White VVaier, and were waiting Duncan and the
maJeBtic rod.
It wan much too bright and pleasant a inoming
SHEILA SINGS. IO3
for good fishing, but there was a fair ripple on the
pools of the stream, where ever and anon a salmon
fresh run from the sea would leap into the air, show-
ing a, gleaming curve of silver to the sunlight. The
splash of the big fish seemed an invitation; and
Duncan was all anxiety to teach the stranger, who, as
he fancied, knew nothing about throwing a fly. In-
gram lay down on a rode some little distance back
from the banks, and put his hands beneath his head,
and watched the Operations going forward. But was
it really Duncan who was to teach the stranger] It
was Sheila who picked out flies for him. It was Sheila
who held the rod while he put them on the line. It
was Sheila who told him where the bigger salmon
usually lay under the opposite bank of the broad
and almost lake-like pool, into which the small but
rapid White Water came tumbling and foaming down
its narrow Channel of rocks and stones.
Then Sheila waited to see her pupil begin. He
had evidently a little difficulty about the big double-
handed rod, a somewhat more formidable engine of
destruction than the supple little thing with which he
had whipped the streams of Devonshire and Cornwall.
The first cast sent both flies and a lump of line
tumbling on to the pool, and would have driven the
boldest of salmon out of its wits. The second pretty
nearly took a piece out of Ingram's ear, and made
him shift his quarters with rapidity. Duncan gave
him up in despair. But the third cast dropped both
flies with the lightness of a feather in the running
waters of the other side of the pool; and the next
second there was a slight wave along the surface a
dexterous jerk with the butt and presently the line
104 A PRINCESS OF THOLE.
was whiried out into the middle of the pool, numing
rapidly off the reel from the straining rod.
"Plenty o' line, sir, plenty o' line!" shouted
Duncan, in a wild fever of anxiety, for the fish had
plunged suddenly.
Ingram had come rutining down to the bank.
Sheila was all excitement and inlerest as she stood
and watched every skckening or tightening of the
line as the fish went up the pool, and down ihe pool,
and crossed the current in bis efforts to escape. The
only self-possessed person, indeed, was Lavender him-
self, who presently said
"Miss Mackenzie, won't you take tbe rod now and
have the honour of landing himi I don't think he
will show mach niore fight."
At this moment, however, the line slackened sud-
denly, and the fish threw himself clean out of the
water, turning a complete somersauh. It was a
dangerous moment; but the captive was well hooked,
and in his next plunge Lavender was admonished by
Duncan to keep a good strain on him.
"I will take the second one," Sheila protnised, "if
you like; but you must surely land your first saltnon
yo Ursel f."
I suppose nobody but a fisherman can understand
the generosity of the offer made by the yourg man.
To have hooked your first salmon to have its first
wild rushes and plunges safely over and to offer to
another the delight of bringing hiro victoriously to
bank! But Sheila knew. And what coiild have sur-
passed Ihe clevemess with which he had hooked the
fish, and the coolness and courage he showed through-
SHEILA SINGS. IO5
out the playing of him, except this more than royal
ofifer on the part of the young man?
The fish was losing strength. All the line had
been got in; although the foreiinger of the fisherman
feit the pulse of his captive, as it were, ready for any
expiring plunge. They caught occasional glimpses of
a lazge white body gliding through the ruddy brown
water. Duncan was down on his knees more than
once, with the landing-net in his hand, but again and
again the big fish would sheer off, with just such in-
dications of power as to make his conqueror cautious.
At length he was guided slowly in to the bank. Be-
hind him the landing-net was gently let into the water
then a quick forward movement and a fourteen-
pounder was scooped up and flung upon the bank,
landing-net and all. " Hurrah I" cried Ingram;
Lavender blushed like a school-girl; and Sheila,
quite naturally and without thinking, shook hands
with him, and said, "I congratulate you," and there
was more congratulation in her glad eyes than in that
simple little gesture.
It was a good beginning, and of course the young
man was very much pleased to show Sheila that he
was no mere lily-fingered idler about town. He buckled
to his work in eamest. With a few more casts he
soon got into the way of managing the big rod; and
every time the flies feil lightly on the other side of
the pool, to be dragged with gentle jerks across the
foaming ciurent of the stream. Ingram went back to
his couch on the rock. He lay and watched the
monotonous fiinging back of the long rod, the light
whistle of the line through the air, and the careful
manipulation of the flies through the water. Or was
Io6 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
it something eise that Jie was watching something
that awakened in his mind a sudden sense of surprise
and fear, and a new and strnge consciousness Ihat
he had been guiltily remissl
Sheila was wholly pre-occupied with her companion
and his efforts. He had had one or two rises, but
had Struck either too soon or too late, iintil at last
there was a terrific plunge and rush, and again the line
was whirled out. But Duncan did not like the look
of it, somehow. The fish had been sheering off when
it was hooked, and the deep plunge al the outset was
ugly.
"Now will you take the rodi" said Lavender to
Sheila.
But before she could answer, the fish had come
rushing up to the surface, had Ihrown itself out of the
water, so that it feil on the opposite bank, It was a
splendid animal; and Duncan, despite his doubts,
calied out to Ingram to slacken his hold. There was
another spring into the air, the fish feil with a splash
inlo the water, and the line was flying helplessly aloft,
with the two flies floating about.
"Ay," said Duncan, with a sigh, "h wass foul-
hooked. It wass no chance of catching hira what-
ever."
Lavender was more successful next time, however,
with a pretty little grilse of about half-a-dozen pounds,
that seemed to have in him the spirit and fight of a,
dozen salmon. How he rushed and struggled, how he
plunged and suJked, how he burrowed along the
banks, and then ran out to the middJe of the pool,
and then threw himself into the air, with the line ap-
parently but not really doubling up under him all
SHEILA SINGS. tOJ
these things can only be understood by the fisherman
who has played in a Highland stream a wild and
powerful lite grilse fresh in from the salt-water. And
it was Sheila who held him captive who humoured
him when he sulked, and gently guided him away
from dangerous places, and kept him well in hand
when he tried to cross the current, until, at last, all
the fierceness gone out of him, he let himself be
tenderly inveigled into the side of the pool, where
Duncan, by a dexterous movement, surrounded him
with network and placed his shining body among the
bright green grass.
But Ingram was not so overjoyed this time. He
complimented Sheila in a friendly way; but he was
rather grave, and obviously did not care for this busi-
ness of fishing. And so Sheila, fancying that he was
rather dull because he was not joihing in the sport,
proposed that he should walk back to the house with
her, leaving Mr. Lavender with Duncan. And Ingram
was quite ready to do so.
But Lavender protested that he cared very little
for salmon-fishing. He suggested that they should all
go back together. The sun was killing the wind; and
soon the pools would be as clear as glass. Had they
not better tiy in the afternoon, when perhaps the
breeze would freshen? And so they walked back to
the house.
On the garden-seal a book lay open. It was Mr.
Mill's "Essay on Liberty;" and it had evidently been
left there by Mr. Mackenzie perhaps, who knows, to
hint to his friends from the South iat he was familir
with the Problems of the age? Lavender winked to
icSi A rsMscMSs or ihuuu
Ingnun; twt samAam hb oon^ponioo secmcd in no
hsmomr for a joke.
TliCT had lancbeoa dten: and aftcr Iimcfaeoii,
Ingnun toodied Lavcndcr on die shonldcr and
faid
^I want to have a void vidi joa piivatdy. Lefs
walk dcnm to die shcfc"
And so diey did; and wfaen kj had got some
litde distance from die honse, Ingnun sud
^Look here, Larender. I mean to be frank witfa
yoiL I don't tfaink it fair tliat yoo shoold trj to drag
Sheila Mackenzie into a fliitation. I knew joa would
fall in love with her for a week or two; that does
not matter it hanns no one. Bot I never tfaought of
the Chance of her being led into such a thing; for
what is a mere passing amnsement to yon, would be
a vcty serious thing to her."
Welir
""Wein Is not that enought Do joa think it
fair to take advantage of this girl's ignorance of the
World!'*
luvender stopped in the middle of the path and
aid
**'nijs may be as well settled at once. You have
iaikcd of (lirtation and all that sort of thing. You
inay rcgard it as you please; but before I leave
\)m iftland I mean to ask Sheila Mackenzie to be my
wifc/'
"Why, you are mad!" criedtingram, amazed to see
titaf \]ni young man was perfectly serious.
Tlf othcr hruggcd his shotdders.
"1)0 you mean to say," continued Ingram, "that,
cvrn tipponing Sheila would consent which is im-
SHEIT^ SINGS. 109
possible you would try to take away that girl from
her father?"
** Girls must leave their fathers some time or other /'
Said Lavender, somewhat sullenly.
"Not unless they are asked."
"Oh, well, they are sure to be asked, and they are
sure to go. If their mothers had not done so before
them, where would they bei It's all very well for you
to talk about it and argue it out, as a theory; but I
know what the facts of the case are, and what any
man in my position would do; and I know that I am
careless of any consequences so long as I can secure
her for my wife ."
"Apparently you are careless of any consequences
to herseif or those about her,"
"But what is your objection, Ingram?" said the
young man, suddenly abandoning his defiant manner;
"why should you object? Do you think I would make
a bad husband to the woman I marriedl"
"I believe nothing of the sort I believe you would
make a very good husband, if you were to marry a
woman whom you knew something about, and whom
you had really leamed to love and respect through
your knowledge of her. I teil you, you know nothing
about Sheila Mackenzie as yet. If you were to marry
her to-morrow, you would discover in six months she
was a woman wholly different from what you had ex-
pected."
"Very well, then," said Lavender, with a laugh,
"you can't deny this: you think so much of her, that
the real woman I would discover must be better than
the one I imagine; and so you don't expect I shall
be disappointed?"
"If you many Sheila. Mackenzic, you will be dis-
appointed not throagh her fault, but your own. Why,
3 more preposterous noiion never entered into a man's
head. She knows noiing of your fticnds or your
ways of life; you know nothing of hers. She would
be miserable in London, even if you could persuade
her father lo go with her, which is the most unlikely
thing in the world. Do give up this foolish idea, like
a good fellow and do it before Sheila is dragged into
a flirtation thatmay have the most serious consequenccs
to her,"
Lavender would not promise; but all that after-
noon various resolutions and emolions were stniggling
within him for mastery, insomuch that Duncan could
not understand the blundering way in which he whipped
the pools. Mackenzie, Sheila, and Ingram had gone
off lo pay a visit to an old crone who lived in a neigh-
bouring isiand, and in whom Ingram had been much
interested a few years before; so that Lavender had
an opportunity of practising the art of salmon-fishing
without interruptions. But all the skill he had shown
in the moming seemed to have deserted him; and at
last he gave the rod to Duncan, and, sitting down on
a top-coat flung on the wel heather, indolently watched
the gillie's Operations.
Should he at once fly from temptation, and retora
to London! Would it not be heroic to leave this old
man in possession of his only daugbter! Sheila would
never know of the sacrifice; but what of thati It might
be for her happiness that he should go,
But when a young man is in love, or fancies him-
self in love, with a young girl, it is hard for him to
persuade himsclf that anybody eise can make her as
SHEILA SINGS. III
happy as he might Who could be so tender to her,
so watchful over her, as himselfl He does not reflect
that her parents have had the experience of years in
taking care of her, while he would be a mere novice
at the business. The pleasure with which he regards
the prospect of being constantly with her he transfers
to her, and she seems to demand it of him as a duty
that he should confer upon her this new happiness.
Lavender met Sheila in the evening, and he was
yet undecided. Sometimes he fancied, when their eyes
met unexpectedly, that there was something wistful as
well as friendly in her look; was she, too,"dreaming
of the vague possibilities of the future? This was
Strange, too that after each pf those little chance
reveries she seemed to be moved by a resolution to
be more than usually affectionate towards her father,
and would go round the table and place her hand^on
his Shoulder, and talk to him. Ferhaps these things
were but delusions begotten of his own imaginings;
but the possibility of their being real agitated him not
a little, and he scarcely dared to think what might
follow.
That evening Sheila sang, and all his half-formed
resolutions vanished into air. He sat in a comer of
the curious, dimly-lit, and old-fashioned Chamber, and,
lying back in the chair, abandoned himself to dreams
^ as Sheila sang the mystic songs of the northem coasts.
[ There was something strangely suggestive of the sea
m the room itself; and all her songs were of the sea,
It was a smaller room than the big apartment in which
they had dined; and it was fiUed with curiosities from
distant shores and with the strnge captures made by
j the Borva fishermen. Everywhere, too, were the trophies
113 i FRISCBSS Or THtTLG.
of MadcMiiie'B skill with rod and rifle. Dea's horns,
eal-skios, scnffed bds, salmon in g^ass cases, masses
o( coral, enomioiis shes, and a. thoosand simitar ttiii^'
made tfae tittle dra.wmg^-nxm a sort of grotto; but it
was a. grotlo Hthin hearing of the sound of the sea^
and (here was no mnsty atmosphere in a room thot
was open all day to tbe cold winds of the Atlantic.
With a Smoking tumbler of trhiskey and watet be-i
fore him, the King of Borva sat at the table, poring
over a lar^e volume containing plans for bridges. In-i
graro was seated at the piano, in continual consulta-
tion with Sheila about her songs. Lavender, in ihis'
dufiky comer, lay and listened, with all soits of fandes
CTOwding in upon him as Sheila sang of the sad and
wild legends of her home. Was it by chance, ien,
he asked himself, that these songs seetned so frequently
to be tlie lamentation of a Highland girl for a
haired lover beyond the seai First of al! she sang the
"Wai! of Dunevegan," and how strangely her voicR
thnlled with Ihe sadness of die song
Nigbt, ohcomcinih ihrdoudsofadncsl
Eailh. thy pkasuiu lo mcsccnt madness]
JiiiievFgan oh ! Dvinevegan ob I
It was as in a dream that he heard Ingram talking ift'
a matler-cif-fact way about the various airs, and asking'
the meaning of ceriain lines of Gaelic to compar:
Ihcra with the sliff and old-fashioned phrases of the
translation. Surely this girl must have sat by Ihe shore;
and waited for her absent lover, or how could shi
iiig with such feeling]
4
SHEILA SINGS. II3
KneVst thott not my heart was weary,
Heard'st thou not how I sighed for theo?
Did no light wind bear my wild despair
Far over the deep sea?"
He could imagine that beautiful face grown pale and
wild with anguish. And then, some day, as she went
along the lonely Island, with all the light of hope gone
out of her eyes, and with no more wistful glances cast
across the desolate sea, might not the fair-haired lover
come at last, and leap ashore to clasp her in his arms,
and hide the wonder-stricken eyes and the glad face
in his bosom) But Sheila sang of no such meeting.
The girl was always alone; her lover gone away from
her across the sea or into the wilds.
'* Oh long on the mountain he tarries, he tarries ;
Why tarries the youth with the bright yellow hair?
Oh long on the mountain he tarries, he tarries,
Why seeks he the hill when his flock is not there ?"
that was what he heard her sing, until it seemed to
him that her singing was a cry to be taken away from
these melancholy surroundings of sea and shore, and
carried to the secure and comfortable South, to be
cherished, and tended, and loved. Why should this
girl be left to live a cruel life up in these wilds, and
to go through the world without knowing anything of
the happy existence that might have been hersi It was
well for harder and stronger natures to withstand the
buffetings of wind and rain, and to be indifferent to
the melancholy influence of the lonely sea, and the
darkness of the northem winters; but for her for this
beautiful, sensitive, tender-hearted girl s\u*ely some
other and gentler fate was in stre. What he, at least,
could do, he would. He would lay his life at her feet;
and if she chose to go away from this bleak and cruel
home to the sunnier South, would not he devote him-
A Princess qf Tkule. I. %
114 * PJUNCESS OF THULE.
seif, as never a man had given himself to a wohieui'
before, to the constant duty of enriching her life with
all the treasures of admiration, and respect, and love!
It was getting late, and presently Sheila retired.
As she bade "Good-night" to hira, Lavender fancied
her manner was a little less frank towards him than
usual, and her eyes were cast down. All the Ught of
the room seemed to go wilh her when she went.
Mackenzie mixed anotJier tumbler of toddy, and
began to expound to Ingram his views upon deer-
forests and sheep-farras. Ingram lit a cigar, stretched
out his legs, and proceeded to listen with much com-
placent attention, As for Lavender, he sat a while,
heariog vaguely the sounds of his companions' voicesj
and then, saying he was a trifle tired, he left and
went to his own room. The raoon was then shining
clearly over Suainabhal, and a pathway of glimmering
li^t lay across Loch Roag.
He went to bed, bt not to sleep. He had re-
solved to ask Sheila Mackenzie to be his wife; and a
thousand conjectures as to the future were floating
about his Imagination, In the first place, wonid she
listen to his prayerl She knew nothjng of him be-
yond what she might have heard from Ingram. If she
were to ask more, how could Ingram know of the
seriousness of the new emotions and resolutions which
this brief visit to Lewis had crowded in on his friendl
He had had no opportunity, dnring their friendly
talking, of revealing to her what he thought of herself;
but might she not have guessed itl Then her father
what action might not this determined old man take
in the matterl Would his love for his daughter prompt
him to consider her happiness alonel All these things,
k
SHEILA SINGS. II5
however, were mere preliminaries; and the Imagination
of the young man soon overleapt them. He began to
draw pictures of Sheila as his wife in their London
home, among his friends, at Hastings, at Ascot, in
Hyde Park. What would people say of the beautiful
Sea-Princess with the proud air, the fearless eyes, and
the gentle and musical voice) Hour after hour he
lay, and could not sleep a fever of anticipation, of
fear and of hope combined, seemed to stir in his
blood and throb in his brain. At last, in a paroxysm
of unrest, he rose, hastily dressed himself, stole down-
stairs, and made his way out into the cool air of the
night
It could not be the Coming dawn that revealed to
him the outlines of the shore, and the mountains, and
the locht The moon had already sunk in the south-
west; not from her came that strnge cleamess by
which all these objects were defined. Then the young
man bethought him of what Sheila had said of the
twilight in these latitudes; and, tuming to the north,
he saw there a pale glow which looked as if it were
the last faint traces of some former sunset. All over
the rest of the heavens something of the same metallic
cleamess reigned, so that the stars were pale, and a
grey hue lay over the sea, and over the island, the
white bays, the black rocks, and the Valleys, in which
lay a scarcely perceptible mist
He left the house and went vaguely down to the
sea. The cold air, scented strongly with the sea-weed,
blew about him, and was sweet and fresh on the lips
and the forehead. How strnge was the monotonous
Boand of the waves moumful and distant, like the
L
116
mod n a ea-ibd! llaK alnK^oke in die awfc{
afawn f thc ^1; aad k secned to be i^ing oC
AoacO^ windb fte sBoa ^s xd(1 the sOent hSto
bad lootxd dcnm oa for a^cs and ^es. Did SbeSi-
icaDf lore tfin tarifalc tfa:^. with iis stm^e Toiai
laftn^ in tbc fl^Ut, er dd sfae 00t c CTe % dread tlj
aad adder al it, wboi dne saag of aB dnt old sadc
BCfst Tbere was rii^ing in his cais die "Wafl
Dunevegan," asbetistcnedarawlHlctodKindBncbi
plaAing of tfae wa.Tcs all aitiond tbc londj sbor
and ibere was a aj of "D uu eyeg an . oh! Ihmer^
oht" weaving itielf cnrioosl*' ith those vd pktweV
of Shcila in Loodon which wcrc still Baxdng befoifi
his inagination,
Ke walked away aioond the coast, seeiog
noiliJng of ihc objects
the Mlemn majety of thc nunintains and thc
f the ihrobbing stais. He could have caUed ali
"Shcila! Sheiia'" but that all the place seemed asso-
ciaicd ith her preseace; and might he not tum,
luddenly to find her fignre standiog b; him
face grown wild and pale as it w&s in the ballad, and
a pitou5 and 3.wful look in her eye! Did the 6guTe
accuM him? He acarcely dared look round, lest there
hould be a phantom Sheiia appealing to him fc-
compamion, and complaining against him with her
peeclilcM eyes for a wrong that he could not under-
stand. He fled from her, but he knew she was therej
and all the love in his heart wem out to her as if
licuccohing her to go away, and forsake him, and for-
give him thc injiiry of which she seemed to acciise
him, Whal wrong had he donc her that he should
lie liaunteil ly ihis spectre, that did not thieaten bat
i
SHEILA SINGS. 11/
only looked piteously towaxds him, with eyes fll of
entreaty and pain)
He left the shore, and blindly made bis way up
to the pasture-land above, careless whither he went.
He knew not how long he had been away from the
house; but here was a small fresh-water lake set round
about with rushes, and far over there in the east lay
a glimmer of the Channels between Borva and Lewis.
But soon there was another light in the east, high
over the low mists that lay along the iand. A pale
blue-grey arose in the cloudless sky, and the stars
went out one by one. The mists were seen to lie in
thicker folds along the desolate Valleys. Then a
faintly yellow whiteness stole up into the sky, and
broadened and widened, and behold! the little moor-
land loch caught a reflection of the glare, and there
was a streak of crimson here and there on the dark-
blue surface of the water. Loch Roag began to brighten.
Suainabhal was touched with rose-red on its eastem
slopes. The Atlantic seemed to rise out of its purple
sleep with the new light of a new dawn; and then
there was a chirruping of birds over the heath, and
the first shafts of the sunlight ran along the surface
of the sea, and lit up the white wavelets that were
breaking on the beach. The new day Struck upon
him with a strnge sense of wonder. Where was hei
Whither had gone the wild visions of the night, the
feverish dread, the horrible forebodingsl The strong
mental emotion that had driven him out now pro-
duced its natiural reaction; he looked about in a dazed
fashion at the revelation of light around him, and
fdt himself trembling with weakness. Slowly, blindly,
and hopelessly^ he set to walk back across the island,
A ^^iscwss or njuix.
witfc Ute stta^gb of the ficsh * ; aJBag iaia 1
And wbo 9B tkk wito Sood at die penk
hoBse in tbe dear randuDcf NtM tfae pole
oeatore wbo had ^'"^-^ him dniing
bom; bot ShcOa hcradf, singtsg same
soog, and ecgaged in watering dkc two
sweet-brier at the gatfc How tnight,
happy she iooked- with. the fine coloor of htti
np t^ the fresh sonligliE; and die l ' " "
die sea stimog no and agam die loose
her hair. Haggaid and fainl as he was, bc i
have itartled her if he had gonc np to her dieo.
dared not approach her. He waited ontQ she
gone round to the gabte of tbe house, to water tbe
plants therc; and then he stole into tbe house, and
upstairs, and threw himself upon the bed. And out-
tride he still heard Sheila singing ligbtty to herseif, as
she went about her ordinaiy duties, litde thinking in
how Strange and wild a drama hei wraich had tbat
night taken part.
CHAPTER VL
Vf.rv soon, indeed, Ingram began to see that his
friend had spoken to him quite frankly; and that he
wat really bent on asking Sheila to become his wife;
Ingram contemplatcd this prospect with some dismay,
nnd wiih some vague consciousness that he was him-
self rcupongibte for what he could not help regardiog
HO a dixaiitcr. He had half expected that Frank La-
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. IIQ
vender would, in bis ordinary fashion, all in love
with Sheila for about a fortnight. He had joked him
about it even before tbey came within sight of Sheila's
home. He had listened with a grim humoiir to La-
vender's outbursts of admiration, and only asked him-
seif how many times he had heard the same phrases
before. Bat now things were looking more serious;
foT the young man had thrown himself into the pro-
secution of his new project with all the generous poetic
enthusiasm of a highly impulsive nature. Ingram saw
that everything a young man could do to win the
heart of a young girl Lavender would do; and nature
had dowered him richly with various means of fascina-
tion. Most dangerous of all of these was a gift of
sincerity that deceived himself. He could assume an
opinion, or express an emotion, at will, with such a
genuine fervour that he himself forgot how recently
he had acquired it, and was able to convince his
companion for the moment that it was a revelation of
his inmost soul. It was this charm of impetuous
sincerity which had fascinated Ingram himself years
before, and made him cultivate the acquaintance of a
young man whom he at first regarded as a somewhat
facile, talkative, and histrionic person. Ingram per-
ceived, for example, that young Lavender had so little
regard for public affairs that he would have been
quite content to see our Indian Empire go for the
sake of eliciting a sarcasm from Lord Westbury; but,
at the same time, if you had appealed to his nobler
instincts, and placed before him the condition of a
certain populace suffering from starvation, he would
have done all in his power to aid them; he would
have written letters to the newspapers, would have
120 A PRINCESS OF THULK.
headed subscriptions, and would have ended by be-
lieving that he had been the constant friend of the
people of India thioughout his life, and was boimd to
stick to them to the end 0/ it.
As often as not Lavender borrowed bis fancies
and opinions from Edward Ingram himself, wh was
amused and gratified at the same time to find his
humdrum notions reccive a dozen new lights and
colours wheu traosfeired to the warmer almosphere of
his friend's Imagination. Ingram would even consent
lo receive from his younger companion advice, im-
petuously urged and richly illustrated, which he had
hinaself offered, in simpler terms, months before. At
this very moment he could see that much of Lavender's
romantic conceptions of Sheila's character was onty an
exaggeration of some passing hints he, Ingram, had
dropped as the Clansman was steaming into Stornoway.
But then they were ever so much more beautiful.
Ingram held to his conviction that he himself was a
distinctly commonplace petson. He had grown re-
conciled to the ordinary grooves of life. Eul young
I^avender was not commonplace^ he fancied he could
see in him an occasional flash of something that looked
like geniusj and many and many a time, in regarding
the brilliant and face powers, the generous Impulses,
and the occasional ambitions of his companion, he
wondered whether these would ever lead to anything
in the way of production, or even of consolidation of
character, or whether they would merely remain ihc
passing sensations of an indifferent idler. Sometimes,
indeed, he devoutly wished that Lavender had been
bom a stonemason.
But all these pleasant and graceful qualities which
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 121
bad made the young man an agreeable companion
were a serious danger now; for was it not but too
probable that Sheila, accustomed to the rde and
homely ways of the islanders, would be attracted, and
pleased, and fascinated by one who had about him so
much of a soft and southem brightness with which she
was wholly unfamiliarl This open-hearted frankness
of bis placed all bis best qualities in the sunshine, as
it were; she could not fail to see the singular modesty
and courtesy of bis bearing towards women, bis gentle
manners y bis light-heartedness, bis passionate admira-
tion of the self-sacrifice of otbers, and his sympathy
with their sufiferings. Ingram would not have minded
much if Lavender alone had been concemed in the
dilemma now growing imminent; he would have left
him to flounder out of it as he had got out of previous
ones. But he had been surprised, and pained, and
even frightened to detect in Sheila's manner some faint
indications so faint that he was doubtful what con-
struction to put on them of a special interest in the
young stranger whom he had brought with him to
Borva.
What could he do in the matter, supposing his
suspicions were correct? Caution Sheilal it would
be an insult Warn Mackenzie? the King of Borva
would fly into a passion with everybody concerned,
and bring endless humiliation on his daughter, who
had probably never dreamed of regarding Lavender
except as a chance acquaintance. Insist upon Lavender
going south at once? that would merely goad the
young man into obstinacy. Ingram found himself in
a grievous difficulty, afraid to say how much of it was
of his own creation. He had no selfish sentiments of
122 A PRINCESS OP THUl
his own to consult; if it were to become evident
the happiness of Sheila and of his friend depeaded
on iheir marrying each olher, he was ready to forwaid
such a project with all the influence at his command.
But there were a hundred reasons why he should
dread such a marriage. He had already mentioned
several of them to Lavender, in trying to dissuade the
young man from his piirpose. A few days had passed
since then; and it was clear that Lavender had
abandoned all notion of fuIfiUing those resolutions
he liad vaguely formed. But the more that Ingram
thought over the matter, and the further he recalled
all the ancient proverbs and stories about the fate of
interm eddlers, the more evident it became to him that
he could take no immediate action in the affair. He
would trust to the chapter of accidents to save Sheila
from what he considered a disastrous fate. Ferhaps
Lavender would repent. Perhaps Mackenzie, con-
tinually on the watch for small secrets, would discover
something, and bid his danghter stay in Borva while
his gucsts proceeded on their tour through Lewis. In
any case, it was not at all certain that Lavender would
be successful in his suit. Was the heart of a proud-
spirited, intelligent, and busily-occupied girl to be
won in a matter of three weeks or a monthJ Lavender
would go south, and no more would be heard of it
This tour round the Island of Lewis, however, was
not likely to favour much any such easy escape from
the difficulty. On a certain raorning the larger of
Mr. Mackenzie's boats carried the holiday-party away
from Borva; and even at tlus early stage as they sat
in the Stern of the heavy craft Lavender had arrogated
Up hiniself the exclusive right of waiting upon SheJta.
AT BARVA^ BRmC?. 123
He had constituted himself her companlon in all their
excursions about Borva which they had undertaken;
and now, on this longer joumey, they were to be once
more thiown ^ogether. It did seem a little hard that
Ingram should be relegated to Mackenzie and his
theories of govemment; but did he not profess to
prefer thatt Like most men who have got beyond
five-and-thirty, he was rather proud of considering
himself an observer of life. He stood aside as a
spectator, and let other people, engaged in all manner
of eager parsuits, pass before him for review. To-
wards young folks, indeed, he assumed a good-
naturedly patemal air, as if they were but as shy-faced
children to be humoured. Were not their love-affairs
a pretty spectacle? As for himself, he was far beyond
all that The illusions of love-making, the devotion,
and ambition, and dreams of courtship, were no longer
possible to him; but did they not constitute on the
whole a beautiful and charming study, that had about
it at times some little touches of pathosi At odd
moments, when he saw Sheila and Lavender Walking
together in the evening, he was himself half inclined
to wish that something might come of the young man's
determination. It would be so pleasant to play the
part of a friendly counsellor, to humour the foUies of
the young folks, to make jokes at their expense, and
then, in the midst of their embarrassment and resent-
ment, to go forward, and pet them a little, and assure
them of a real and eamest sympathy.
"Your time is to come," Lavender said to him
suddenly, after he had been exhibiting some of his
patemal forbearance and consideration; ''you will get
a dreadful twist some day, my boy. You have been
124 * PRlSfCESS F THTE.
doing Dothing but dreaioiiig aboul women; but same
day or other you will wake up to find yourself captnred
and fascinaied beyond anything you have ever s^en
in othr pcople. and theo yoii srl discover what a.
dcsperately real thing it is."
Ingram had a misty impressioQ that he had heard
soroethiog lite this beforc. Had Iie not given Luvender
soDie waming of [he same kindf But he was so much
accustomed to hear those vagae repetitions of his own
remarks and was, on the whole, so well pleased to
think that hU commonplace notions shodd Eake rooi
and Aourish in this goodty so^ that he never thoaght
of asking Lavcnder to quole his aathority for those
profound observations on men and things.
"Now, Miss Mackeozie," said ihe young man, as
the big boat was drawmg near to Caernish, "what is
to be OUT Grst skeich in Lewist"
"The Caernish stones, of course," said Mackenzie
himself; "ii iss more than one hass come to the Lewis
to see the Callemish stones,"
Laveader had promised to the Kin g of Borva a
saies of water-colour drawings of Lewis, and Sheita
was to choose the subjecis from day to day. Mackenzie
was gratified by this pruposal, and accepted ii with
mnch magnanimity; but Sheila knew that, before the
offer was madc, Lavcnder had come to her and asked
her if she cared about sketches, and whether he raight
he allowed to take a few on this jotimey and present
them to her. She was very gratefulj but suggesied
Ihat it mighl please her papa if they were given to
hitij. Would she superintend ihem, then, and choose
Uw lOpici tw iUustration) Ves, she would do that;
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 125
and so the young man was fumished with a roving
commission.
He brought her a little sepia sketch of Borvabost,
its huts, its bay, and its upturaed boats on the beach.
Sheila's expressions of praise the admiration and
pleasure that shone in her eyes would have tumed
any young man's head. But her papa looked at the
picture with a critical eye, and remarked
"Oh yes, it is ferry good but it is not the colur
of Loch Roag at all. It is the colour of a river when
there is a flood of rain I have neffer at all seen Loch
Roag a brown colour neffer at all."
It was clear, then, that the subsequent sketches
could not be taken in sepia; and so Lavender proposed
to make a series of pencil drawings, which could be
washed in with colour afterwards. There was one
subject, indeed, which, since his arrival in Lewis, he
had tried to fix on paper by every conceivable means
in his power and that was Sheila herseif. He had
spoiled innumerable sheets of paper in trying to get
some likeness of her which would satisfy himself; but
all his usual skill seemed somehow to have gone from
him. He could not understand it. In ordinary cir-
cumstances, he could have traced in a dozen lines a
Portrait that would at least have shown a superficial
likeness he could have multiplied portraits by the
dozen of old Mackenzie, or Ingram, or Duncan but
here he seemed to fail utterly. He invited no criticism^
certainly. These efforts were made in his own room;
and he asked no one's opinion as to the likeness. He
could, indeed , certify to himself that the drawing of
the features was correct enough. There was the sweet
and placid forehead, with its low masses of dark hair;
126 A PR1NCES3 OF THUL8.
there the short upper lip, the finely-carved moui, the
beautifully-rounded chin and throat; and there the
frank, clear, proud eyes, with their long lashes and
highly-curved eyebrows. Sometimes, too, a touch of
colour added warmth Xo the coraplexion, pul a glim-
mer of the blue sea beneath the long black eyelashes,
and drew a thread of scarlet round the white neck,
But was this Sheila? Could he take this sheet of
paper to his friends in London, and say Here ts the
magical Princess whom I hope to bring to you froni
the North, with all the giamour of the sea around herl
He feit instioctively that there would be an awkward
pause. The people would praiae the haodsome, frank,
coiirageous head, and look upon the bit of red ribbon
round the neck as an effective artistic touch. They
would hand him back the paper with a compliment;
and he would find himself in ao agony of unrest
because they had misunderstood the portrait, and seen
nothing of the wonder that encompassed this High-
land girl as if with a garment of mystery and dreams.
So he tore up portrait after portrait-^more than
one of which would have startled Ingram by its truth;
and then, to prove to hiniself that be was not growing
mad, he resolved to try a portrait of some other pcr-
son. He drew a head of old Mackenzie in chalk; and
was araazed with the rapidity and facility with which
he executed the task. There could be no doubt as to
the success of the likeness nor as to the eifect of the
picture. The King of Borva, with his heavy eyebrows,
his aquiline nose, his keen grey eyes, and flowing
beard, offered a fine subject; and there was something
really royal, and massive, and noble in the head that
Lavender, well satisfied with Jiis work, took downstairs
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 12J
onc evening. Sheila was alone in the drawing-room,
tuming over some music.
"Miss Mackenzie," he said, rather kindly, "would
you look at thisV
Sheila tumed round, and the sudden light of plea-
sure that leapt to her face was all the praise and all
the assurance he wanted. But he had more than that.
The girl was grateful to him beyond all the words she
could utter, and when he asked her if she would ac-
cept the picture, she thanked him by taking his hand
for a moment, and then she left the room to call in
Ingram and her father. All the evening there was a
Singular look of happiness on her face. When she met
Lavender's eyes with hers, there was a frank and
friendly look of gratitude ready to reward him. When
had he eamed so much before by a simple sketchl
Many and many a portrait, carefully executed and ela-
borately framed, had he presented to his lady-friends
in London, to receive from them a pretty note and a
few words of thanks when next he called. Here, with
a rough chalk sketch, he had awakened an amount of
gratitude that almost surprised him in the most beauti-
fol and tender soul in the world; and had not this
princess among women taken his hand for a moment,
as a childlike way of expressing her thanks, while her
eyes spoke more than her lips? And the more he
looked at those eyes, the more he grew to despair of
cver being able to put down the magic of them in
lines and colours.
At length Duncan got the boat into the small creek
at Callemish; and the party got out on the shore. As
icy were going up the steep path leading to the piain
above, a young girl met them, who looked at them in
120 A PRINCESS OF THTJLE.
rather a strnge way, She had a fair, prctty, woni
ing face, with singularly high eyebrows, and clear, light
blue eyes.
"How ar you, Eilean?" said Mackenzie, as he
passed on with Ingtam.
Bul Sheila, on making the sarae inquiiy, shook
liands with the girl, who smiled in a confidential way,
and, Coming quite close, nodded, and pointed down to
the water's edge.
"Have you seen them to-day, Eileanl" said Sheila,
still holding the girl by the hands, and looking at the
fair, pretty, strnge face.
"It wass sa day befare yesterday," she answered,
in a whisper, while a pleased smile appeared on her
face, "and sey will be here sa night."
"Good-bye, Eilean; take care you don't stay out at
night and catch cold, you know," said Sheila; and theo,
with another liltle nod and a smile, the young girl
went down the path.
"It is Eilean-of-the-Ghosts, as they call her," said
Sheila to Lavender as they went on; "the poor thtng
faocies she sees little people about the rocks, and
watches for them. But she is very good and quie^
and she is not afraid of them, and she does no hrm
to anyone. She does not belong to the Lewis; I think
she is from Jura; but she sometiraes comes to pay us
a Visit at Borva, and my papa is very kind to her."
"Mr. Ingram does not appear to know her; I thought
he was acquainted with everyone in the island," said
I .avender,
"She was not here when he has been in the Lewis
before," said Sheila; "but Eilean does not like to speak
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 12^
to Strangers, and I do not think you could get her to
speak to you if you tried."
Lavender had paid but little attention to the
"false men" of Callemish when first he saw them;
but now he approached the long lines of big stones
up on this lonely plateau with a new interest. For
Sheila had talked to him about them many a time in
Borva; and had asked his opinion about their origin
and their age. Was the central circle of stones an
altar, with the other series marking the approaches to
itt Or was it the grave of some great chieftain, with
the remaining stones indicating the graves of his re-
lations and friends) Or was it the commemoration of
some battle in olden times, or the record of astr6no-
mical or geometrical discoveries, or a temple once de-
voted to serpent-worship, or whati Lavender, who
knew absolutely nothing at all about the matter, was
probably as well qualified as anybody eise to answer
those questions; but he forbore. The interest, how-
ever, that Sheila showed in such things he very rapidly
acquired. When he came to see the rows of stones a
second time, he was much impressed by their position
on this bit of hill overlooking the sea. He sat down
on his camp-stool with the determination that, although
he could not satisfy Sheila's wistful questions, he would
present her with some little sketch of these monuments
and their surroundings, which might catch up some-
thing of the mysterious loneliness of the scene.
He would not, of course, have the picture as it
then presented itself. The sun was glowing on the
grass around him, and lighting up the tall grey pillars
of stone with a cheerful radiance. Over there the
waters of Loch Roag werebright and blue; and beyond
A PHncess of ThnU, I, 9
IJO A PRI8CESS OF THULE.
tlie lake the undulations of moorland were gree^TS^
beauliful, and the mountains in ihe south grown pale
as silver in ihe heat. Here was a pretty young lady,
in a rough blue travelling dress, and a hat and feadier,
who was engaged in picking up wild-flowers from the
warm heath. There was a geneman from the ofSce
uf the Board of Trade, who was sitting on the gras^
nursing his knees, and whistling. From lime to time
the Chief figure in the foreground was an elderly
gentleman, who evidently exjjected that he was going
to be put into the picture, and who was occasionally
dropping a cautious hint that he did not always wear
ihis rough- and -ready sailor's costume. Mackenzie was
also most anxious to point out to the artist the namea
of the hls and districCs lying to the south of Loch
Koag; apparentjy wiih the hope that the sketch would
have a certain typographical interest for future vist-
tOTS.
No; Lavender was content at that moment to take
down the oullines of the great stones, and the c
figuration of lake and hill beyond; but by and by, he
would give another soit of atioosphere to this wild
scene. He would have rain and darkness spread ovet
the Island, with the low hb in the south grown descH
late and remote, and She waters of the sea covered
with gloom. No human figure shouid be visible on
this remote piain, where these Strange memorials had
stood for centuries, exposed to westem gales, and the
stillness of the winter nights, and the awful silence of
the Stars, Would not SheUa, at least, understand th
bleakness and desolation of the picture? Of course
her father would like to have everything blue and
green. Hc seemed a little disappointed when it was
i
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I3I
dear that no distant glimpse of Borva could be intro^
daced into the sketch. But Sheila's imagination would
be captured by this sombre picture; and perhaps, by
and by, in some other land, amid fairer scenes and in
a more generous climate, she might be less inclined to
banger for the dark and melancholy North when she
looked on this record of its gloom and its sadness.
^Iss he going to put any people in the pic^
turesi" Said Mackenzie, in a confidential whisper to
Ingram.
Ingram got up from the grass, and said, with a
yawn
"I don't know. If he does, it will be afterwards.
Suppose we go along to the waggonette, and see if
Duncan has brought everything up from the boati"
The old man seemed rather unwilling to be cut
out of this particular sketch, but he went, nevertheless;
and Sheila, seeing Mr. Lavender left alone, and think-
ing that not quite fair, went over to him, and asked
if she might be permitted to see as much as he had
done.
Lavender shut up the book.
"No," he said with a laugh, "you shall see it to-
night I have sufficient memoranda to work some-
thing out of it by and by. Shall we have another look
at the circle up there?"
He folded up and shouldered his camp-stool, and
thcy walked to the point at which the long lines of
the **moumers" converged. Perhaps he was moved
by a great antiquarian curiosity; at all events, he
showed a singular interest in the monuments, and
talked to his companion about all the possible theories
connected with such stones in a fashion that charmed
9*
132 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
her greatly. She was easily persuaded that thc
Callernish "Fir-Bhreige" were the rnost interesting
relics in the world. He had seen Slonehenge, but
Stonehenge was too scattered to be impressive. There
was more mystery about the ineans by which the in-
habitants of a small island could have hewn, and
carved, and erected these blocks; there was, morec
the mystery about the vanished population Itself. Yes,
he had been to Carnac a!so. He had driven down
frora Auray in a rumbling old trap, his coachman
being unable to talk French. He had seen the half-
cultivated piain on which there were rows and rows
of small stones, scarcely to be distinguished from the
stone walls of the adjoining farms. What was there
impressive about such a sight, when you went into ft
house and paid a franc to be shown the gold Orna-
ments picked up about the placel Here, howevcr,
was a perfect series of those strnge raemorials, with.
the long ianes leading up to a circle, and the tallest
of all the stones placed on the westem side of the
circle, perhaps as the headstone of the buried chief.
Look at the position, too the silent hill, the watera
of the sea-loch around Lt, and beyond that the desola-
tion of miles of untenanted moorland. Sheila seemed
pleased that her companion, after coming so far,
should have found something worth looking at in the
Lewis.
"Does it not seem strnge," he said, suddenly,
ihink of young folks of the present day picking up
wild-flowers from among ihose old slooesl"
He was looking at a tiny bouquet which she had
gathered,
"Will you take theml" she said, quite simply and
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 133
naturally offering him the flowers. "They may remind
you some time of Callemish."
He took the flowers, and regarded them for a mo-
ment in silence; and then he said gently
'^I do not thmk I shall want these to remind me
of Callemish. I shall never forget our being here."
At this moment perhaps fortunately Duncan ap-
peared, and came along towards the young people
with a basket in his hand.
''It wass Mr. Mackenzie will ask if ye will tek a
l^ass o' Whiskey, sir, and a bit o' bread and cheese.
And he wass sayin' there wass no hurry at all, and
lie will wait for you two hours, or half an hour what-
cvcr.''
''All right, Duncan; go back and teil him I have
finished, and we shall be there directly. No, thank
you, don't take out the whiskey unless, Miss
Mackenzie," added the young man, with a smile,
"Duncan can persuade you."
Duncan looked with amazement at the man who
dared to joke about Miss Sheila taking whiskey; and,
without waiting for any further commands, indignantly
shut the lid of the basket, and walked off.
''I wonder, Miss Mackenzie," said Lavender, as
they went along the path and down the hill, '^I wonder
what you would say if I happened to call you Sheila
by mistake."
''I should be ^Lad if you did that Everyone calls
me Sheila," said the giil, qoietly enough.
''You would not be vezedl" he said, regarding her
vith a litde surprise.
"No, why should I be rexedt" sbe answered, and
134
she happened to look up, and he saw what a cleai
lighl of sincerity there was shining in her eyes.
"May I then call you Sheilal"
"Ves."
"But but " he said, with a tiniidity and em-
barrassment of which she showed no trace whaiever,
"but people might think it strnge, you know and
yet I should greatly like to call you Sheila only, not
before other people, perhaps "
"But why aotV she said, with her eyebrowa just
raised a little. "Why should you wish to call me
Sheila al one time and not at the otherJ It ia no
diflerence whatever and everyone calls me Sheila."
Lavender was a little disappointed. He had hoped,
when she conseoted in. so friendly a manner to his
calling her by any name he chose, that he could havc
established this little arrang erneut, which would have
had about it something of tJie nature of a personal
confidence, Sheila would evidently have none of that,.
Was it that she was really so simple and frank in her
ways that she did not understand why iere should
be such a difference, aad what it might imply; o
she w-ell aware of everything he had been wishing,
and able to assume this air of simplicity and ignoranc
with a perfect gracel Ingram, he reflected, would!
have said at once that to suspect Sheila of such
duplicity was to insult her; but then Ingram was per-
haps himself a trifle too easily imposed on, and
had notions about women despite all his philosophical
reading and such like that a little more mingling bf
society might have caused him to alter. Frank Lavender
confessed to himself tliat Sheila was either a mJracle
of ingenuousness or a thorough mistress of the art o
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. 135
assuming it. On the one hand, he considered it al-
most impossible for a woman to be so ingenuous; on
the other hand, how could this girl have taught her-
seif, in the solitude of a savage island, a species of
histnonicism which women in London circles strove
for years to acquire and rarely acquired in any per-
fectiont At all events, he said to himself, while he
rcserved his opinion on this point, he was not going
to call Sheila Sheila before folks who would know
what that meant. Mr. Mackenzie was evidently a
most irascible old gentleman. Gk)odness only knew
what sort of law prevailed in these wild parts; and to
be seized at midnight by a couple of brawny fisher-
men to be carried down to a projecting ledge of
Tock. ! Had not Ingram already hinted that
Mackenzie would straightway throw into Loch Roag
Ae man who should offer to carry away Sheila from
himY
But how could these doubts of Sheila's sincerity
last! He sat opposite her in the waggonette, and the
perfect truth of her face, of her frank eyes, and of her
ready smile met him at every moment, whether he
talked to her, or to Ingram, or listened to old
Mackenzie, who tumed from time to time from the
driving of the horses to inform the stranger of what
he saw around hihi. It was the most brilliant of
momings. The sun bumed on the white road, on the
green moorland, on the grey-lichened rocks with their
crimson patches of heather. As they drove by the
curious convolutions of this rugged coast, the sea that
lay beyond these recurring bays and points was of a
windy green, with here and there a streak of white,
and the fresh breeze blowing across to them tempered
I^b A PRINCESS OF THU:
the fierce heat of the sun. How cool, too, werel
little fresh-water lakes they passed the clear blae and
white of them stirred into wavelets that moved the
reeds and left air-bubbles about the half-submerged
stones, Were not those wild geese over there, fiapping
in the water with their huge wings, and taking i
notice of the passing strangers? Lavender had never
Seen this lonely coast in titnes of gloom, with those
little lakes become sombre pooIs, and the outline of
the rocks beyond lost in the driving mist of the s
and the rain. It was altogether a bright and beautiful .
World he hadgot into, and there was in it but one
woman, beautiful beyond his dreams. To doubt her,
was to doubt all woraen. When he looked at her he
forgot the caution, and distrust, and sardonic seif-'
complacency his southem training had given him.
He believed; and the world seemed to be fiUed with
a new light.
"That is Loch-na-muil'ne," Mackenzie was saying,
"and it iss the Loch of the Mill; and over there that
is Loch-a-Bhaile, and that iss the Loch of the Town; .
but where iss the town now! It wass many hundreds
of years before there will be numbers of people
this place, and you will come to Dan ChaTlobhaidh,
which is a great castle, by and by. And what wass
it will drive away the people, and leave the land to
the moss, but that there wass no one to look after
theml 'Whm the nathies will leave Iilay, /arewell lo
tkt place of Scolland' that iss a good proverb. And
if they have no one to tnind them, they will go away
altogether. And there is no people more obedient
than the people of the Highlands not anywhere; for
you know that we say, 'Is it iruth, as i/ j'ou were
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I37
speaktng he/ore kmgs?* And now there is the case
and there wass many people living here when they
could build that."
It was, in truth, one of those circular forts, the
date of which has given lise to endless conjecture
and discussion. Perched up on a hill, it overlooked
a number of deep and narrow Valleys, that ran land-
ward; while the other side of the hl sloped down to
the sea-shore. It was a stiiking object, this tumbling
mass of dark stones Standing high over the green
hollows, and over the light piain of the sea. Was
there not here material for another sketch for Sheilaf
While Lavender had gone away over the heights and
hollows to choose his point of view, a rough-and-
ready luncheon had been spread out in the waggonette;
and when he retumed, perspiring and considerably
blown, he found old Mackenzie measuring out equal
portions of peat-water and whiskey, Duncan flicking
the enormous "clegs" from off the horses' necks, In-
gram trying to persuade Sheila to have some sherry
out of a flask he carried, and everybody in very good
spirits over such an exciting event as a roadside
luncheon on a summer forenoon.
The King of Borva had by this time becorae ex-
cellent friends with the young stranger who had
ventured into his dominions. When the old gentle-
man had sufficiently impressed on everybody that he
had observed all necessary precaution in studying the
character and inquiring into the antecedents of
Lavender, he could not help confessing to a sense of
lightness and vivacity that the young man seemed to
bring with him and shed around him. Nor was this
matter of the sketches the only thing that had par-
r
I3S A PRINCESS OF TIIULE.
ticularly recommended Lavender to ihe old man.
Mackenzie had a most distinct dislike to Gaelic songs.
He could not bear the monotonous melancholy of
them. When Sheila, sitting by Iierself, would sing
these Strange old ballads of an evening, he would
suddenly enter the roora, probably find her eyes filled
with tears, and then he would in his inmost heart
devote the whole of Gaelic minstrelsy and all its
authors to the infernal gods. Why should people be
for ever saddening themselves with the stories of other
folks' misfortunesj It was bad enough for Ihose poor
peoplej buc they had bome their sotrows, and died,
and were at peace. SureJy it was better that we
should have songs about ourselves drinking or fight-
ing, if you like, to keep up the spirits to lighten the
serious cares of life, and drown for a while the re-
Sponsibility of looking after a whole population of
poor, half-ignorant, unphitosophical creatures.
"Look, now," he would say, speaking of his own
tongue, "look at this leffle of a languagel It has no
present tense to its verbs the people they are always
looking forward to a melancholy future, or looking
back to a melancholy past. In ihe name of Kott, hef
we not got ourselves to live? This day we live in is
better than any day that wass before or iss to come,
bekass it is here, and we are alive. And I will hef no
more of these songs about ciying, and crying, and
crying!"
Now Sheila and Lavender, in their mutual musical
confidences, had at an early period discovered that
each of them knew something of ihe older Engiish
duets, and forthwilh they tried a few of them, lo
Mackenzie's extreme delight. Here, at last, was a sort
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I3Q
of music he could understand none of your moan-
ings of widowsy and cries of luckless girls to the sea
but good common-sense songs, in which the lads
kissed the lasses with a will, and had a good drink
afterwards, and a dance on the green on their home-
ward way. There was fun in those happy May-fields,
and good health and briskness in the ale-house
choruses, and throughout them all a prevailing cheer-
fiilness and contentment with the conditions of life
certain to recommend itself to the contemplative mind.
Mackenzie never tired of hearing those simple ditties.
He grew confidential with the young man; and told
him that those fine, common-sense songs recalled
pleasant scenes to him. He himself knew something
of English village-life. When he had been up to see
the Great Exhibition, he had gone to visit a friend
living in Brighton, and he had surveyed the country
with an observant eye. He had remarked several
village-greens, with the May-poles Standing here and
there in front of the cottages, emblazoned with beau-
tiful banners. He had, it is true, fancied that the May-
pole should be in the centre of the green; but the
manner in which the waves of population swept here
and there, swallowing up open spaces and so forth,
would account to a philosophical person for the fact
that the May-poles were now close to the village-shops.
*^ Drink to me only with thine eyesj^ hummed the
King of Borva to himself, as he sent the two little
horses along the coast-road on this warm summer day.
He had heard the song for the first time on the
previous evening; he had no voice to speak of; he
had missed the air, and these were all the words he
remembered; but it was a notable compliment all the
1
140 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
sarae to the young man who had brouglit these
pleasant tunes to Uie isUnd, And so they drove on
through the keen salt air, with the sea shining beside
them, and the sky shining over them; and in the
aftemoon they arrived at the small, remote, and soli-
tary inn of Barvas, placed near the conSuence of se-
veral rivers that flow through Loch Barvas, or Barabhas,
to the sea. Here they proposed to stop the night; so
Lavendel, when his rootn had been assigned to bim,
begged to be left alooe for an hour or two, that he
might throw a little coloui into his sketch of Callemish.
What was there to see at BarvasJ Why, nolhing but
the Channels of the brown streams, some pasture-land,
and a few huts, then the unfrequented lake, and
beyond that some ridges of white sand, standing over
the shingly beach of the sea. He would join them at
dinner. Mackenzie protested in a mild way; he reaily
wanted to see how the island was to be illustrated by
the stranger, There was a greater protest, mingled
with compassion and regret, in Sheila's eyes; but the
young man was firm. So they let him have his way,
and gave hira fll possession of the common sitting-
room, whe they set off to visit the school, and the
Free-Church mause, and what not in the neighbour-
hood.
Mackenzie had ordered dinner at eighl, to show
that he was familir with the ways of civized life;
and when they returned at that hour, Lavender had
two Sketches finished.
"Ves, they are very good," said Ingram, who was
seldom enthusiastic about his friend's work,
But old Mackenzie was so vastly pleased with the
picture which represeuted his naiive place in the
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I4I
brightest of sunshine and colours, that he forgot to
assume a critical air. He said nothing against the
rainy and desolate version of the scene that had been
given to Sheila; it was good enough to please the
child. But here was somethmg brilliant, eflfective,
cheerful; and he alarmed Lavender not a little by
proposing to get one of the natives to carry this
treasure, tben and there, back to Borvabost Both
Sketches were ultimately retumed to his book; and
then Sheila helped him to remove his artistic appa-
ratus from the table on which their piain and homely
meal was to be placed. As she was about to follow
her father and Ingram, who had left the room, she
paused for a moment and said to Lavender, with a
look of frank gratitude in her eyes
"It is very good of you to have pleased my papa
so much. I know when he is pleased, though he does
not speak of it; and it is not often he will be so
much pleased."
"And you, Sheila?" said the young man, uncon-
scious of the familiarity he was using, and only re-
membering that she had scarcely thanked him for the
other sketch.
"Well, there is nothing that will please me so much
as to see him pleased," she said, with a smile.
He was about to open the door for her; but he
kept his hand on the handle, and said, eamestly
enough
"But that is such a small matter an hour's work.
If you only knew how gladly I would live all
my life here if only I could do you some greater
Service "
She looked a little surprised, and then, for one
2 A psntoss or tbois.
bricf secoad, reSected. EagHsh was not wboDjr I
miliar to her peiiiaps shc had faed to cacdt what
he really mcaot. Bui at all eveiiis sbe sud, gravelf
and simply
"Yoa would soon tire o( livisg here; h is not
always a hoUday."
And then, withoul lifting her eyes to his face, sfac
tunied to the door; and he opened h for her, and shc
was gone.
Ii was aboul ten o'dock hen they wcnt ouiside
for theii evening stroll; and all the irorld had grown
enchanted since they had seeo it in the colours of the
sunseL There was no night; but a snange cleamess
over the sky and the eaith, and down in the sotith
the nioon was rising over the Barvas hills. In the
daik green roeadows the cattie were still grazing,
Voices of children could be heard in the far distance,
with the rumble of a cart coming through the silcnce,
and the murmur of the streams fiowing down to the
loch. The loch itself lay like a line of dusky yellow
in a darkened hollow near the sea, having caught on
tts surface the pale glow of the northetn heavens,
where the sun had gone down hours before. The air i
was wann, and yet fresh with the odoure of the I
Atlantic; and there was a scent of Dutch clover com- I
ing across from the sandy pastures nearer the coasL 1
The huts of the small hamlet could but faintly bei
made out beyond the dark and low-lying pastures;!
but a long, pale line of blue smoke lay in the mo-l
tJonlenE air, and the voices of the children told ofl
open doon. Night after night, this same picture, witlH
slight variaiions of position, had been placed beforM
the stranger who had come to view the&e solitude^f
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I43
and night after night it seemed to him lo grow more
beautifuL He could put down on paper the ouines
of an every-day landscape, and give them a dash of
brilliant colour to look well on a wall; but how to
carry away, except in the memory, any impression of
the Strange lambent darkness, the tender hues, the
loneliness and the pathos of those northem twilights?
They walked down by the side of one of the
streams towards the sea. But Sheila was not his com-
panion on this occasion. Her father had laid hold of
him, and was expounding to him the rights of capi-
talists and various other matters. But, by and by,
Lavender drew his companion on to talk of Sheila's
mother; and here, at least, Mackenzie was neither tedious
nor ridiculous, nor unnecessarily garrulous. It was
with a Strange interest that the young man heard the
elderly man talk of his courtship, his marriage, the
character of his wife, and her goodness and beauty.
Was it not like looking at a former Sheila; and would
not this Sheila now Walking before him go through
the same tender experiences, and be admired, and
loved, and petted by everybody as this other girl had
been, who brought with her the charm of winning
ways and a gentle nature into these rde wilds? It
was the first time he had heard Mackenzie speak of
his wife, and it tumed out to be the last; but from
that moment the older man had something of dignity
m the eyes of this younger man, who had merely
judged of him by his little foibles and eccentricities,
and would have been ready to dismiss him contemp-
taously as a buffoon. There was something, then,
behind that powerful face, with its deep-cut lines, its
heavy eyebrows, and piercing and sometimes sad eyes,
r
r44 A pRiNCEss or tkulb.
besides a mere liking for tricks of childish diplomac^t '
Lavender began to have sonie respect for Sheila's
father; and made a resolution to guard against the
impertinence of humouring him too ostentatiously.
Was it not hard, tliough, that Ingram, who was so
cold and unimpressionable, who smiled at the notion
of marrying, and who was probably enjoying bis pipe
quite as much as Sheila's famib'ar talk, should have
the girl all lo himself on this witching night) They
reached the shores of the Atlantic. There was not a
breath of wind Coming in frora the sea; but the air
seemed even sweeter and cooler as they sat down on
the great bank of shingle. Here and there birds were
calling, and Sheila could distinguish each one of
them. As the moon rose, a faint golden light began
to tremble here and there on the waves, as if some
subterranean cavems were lit up and sendiog to the
surface faint and fitfui rays of iheir aplendour. Further
along the coast the lall banks of sand grew white in
the twight; and the outlines of the dark pasture-Iand
behind grew more distinct.
But when they rose to go back to Barvas, the
moonlight had giown full and clear; and the long
and narrow loch had a pathway of gold across, stretch-
iog from the reeds and sedges of the one side to the
reeds and sedges of the other. And now Ingram had
gone on to join Mackenzje, and Sheila walked behind
with Lavender, and her face was pale and beautiful
in the moonlight.
"I shall be very sorry when I have to leave Lewis,"
he Said, as they walked along the path leading througb
the sand and the clover; and there could be no
doubt that he feit the regret expressed in the words.
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I45
^But it is no use to speak of leaving us yet/' said
Sheila, cheerfully; "it is a long time before you will
go away from the Lewis."
'^And I fancy I shall always think of the island
just as it is now with the moonlight over there, and
a loch near, and you Walking through the stiUness.
We have had so many evening walks like this."
**you will make us very vain of our island," said
the girly with a smile, "if you will speak like that
always to us. Is there no moonlight in England? I
have pictures of English scenery that will be far more
beautiful than any we have here; and if there is the
moon here, it will be there too. Think of the pic-
tures of the river Thames that my papa showed you
last night "
"Oh, but there is nothing like this in the South,"
said the young man, impetuously; "I do not believe
there is in the world anything so beautiful as this.
Sheila, what would you say if I resolved to come and
live here always?"
"I should like that very much more than you
would like it, perhaps," she said, with a bright laugh.
"That would please you better than for you to go
always and live in England, would it notl"
"But that is impossible," she said. "My papa
would never think of living in England."
For some time after he was silent The two figures
in front of them walked steadily on; an occasional
roar of laughter from the deep ehest of Mackenzie
startling the night air, and telling of Ingram's being
in a communicative mood. At last Lavender said
"It seems to me so great a pity that you should live
in this remote place, and have so little amusement
A PrmusM ^ ThuU. /. 10
146 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
and see so few people of tastes and educatil
your own. Yoiir papa is so much occupied he is
much older than you, too that you must be left to
yourself so much; whereas, if you had a companion,
of your own age, who could have the right to talk
frankly to you, and go about wii you, and take care.
of you "
By this time they had reached the little woodeti
bridge crossing the stream: and Mackenzie and Ingram
had got to the inn, where ihey stood in front of the
door in the raoonlight. Before ascending the stepS
of the bridge, Lavender, without pausing in his speedi,,
took Sheila's hand, and said suddenly^
"Now don't let me alarm you, Sheila, but suppose
at some distant day as far away as you please X
came and asked you to let me be youi companion^
then and always, wouldr't you tryV
She looked up with a startled glance of fear in her
eyes, and withdrew her hand from him.
"No, don't be frightened," he said, quite gently.
"I don't ask you for any promise. Sheila; you raust
know I love you you must have seen it. Will you
not let me come to you at some future time a long
way off tViat you may teil me then) Won't you tiy
to do thati"
There was more in the tone of his voice than in
his words. The girl stood irresolute for a second or,
two, regarding him with a strnge, wistfui, eamest
look; and then agreatgentleness came into her eyes, and
she put out her hand to him, and said, in a low voke
"Perhapsl"
But there was somelhing so grave and simple
AT BARVAS BRIDGE. I47
about her manner at this moment that he dared not
somehow receive it as a lover receives the first ad-
mission of love from the lips of a maiden. There
had been something of a strnge inquiry in her face
as she regarded him for a second or two; and now
that her eyes were bent on the ground, it seemed to
him that she was trying to realize the fll effect of the
concession she had made. He would not let her think.
He took her band and raised it respectfully to bis
lips, and then he led her forward to the bridge. Not
a Word was spoken between them while they crossed
the shining space of moonlight to the shadow of the
house; and as they went indoors he caught but one
glimpse of her eyes, and they were friendly and kind
towards him, but evidently troubled. He saw her no
more that night.
So he had asked Sheila to be bis wife; and she
had given him some timid encouragement as to the
future. Many a time, within these last few days, had
he sketched out an imaginative picture of the scene.
He was familir with the passionate rapture of lovers
on the stage, in books, and in pictures; and he had de-
scribed himself (to himself) as intoxicated with joy,
anxious to let the whole world know of bis good
fortune, and above all to confide the tidings of bis
happiness to bis constant friend and companion. But
now, as he sat in one comer of the room, he almost
feared to be spoken to by the two men who sat at the
table with steaming glasses before them. He dared
not teil Ingram; he had no wish to teil him, even if
he had got him alone. And as he sat there and re-
caDed the incident that had just occurred by the side
of the little bridge, he could not whoUy understand
10*
1^8 A PRINCEES OF THLE.
its nieaning. There had been none of the eag^Sos^
the coyness, the tumult of joy he had expcctedj all
he could remember clearly was the long look that the
large, eamest, troubled eyes had fixed upon hira,
while the girl's face, grown pale in the moonlight,
seemed somehow ghostlike and strnge.
BuT in the morning all these id!e fancies fled with
the life and colour and freshness of a new day. Loch
Barvas was ruffled into a dark blue by the westerly
wind; and doubtless the sea out there was rushing in,
green and cold, to the shore. The sunlight was waira
about the house. The traut were teaping in the
shallow brown streamsj and here and there a while
butterfly fluttered across the damp tneadows. Was
not that Duncan down by the river, accompanied by
Ingraml There was a glimmer of a rod in the sun-
fihine; the two poachers were after Iroiit for SheJIa'a
break fast.
Lavender dressed, went outside, and looked about
for the nearest way down to the stream. He wished
to have a chance of saying a word to his friend before
Shea or her father should appear- And at last he
thought he could do no better than go across to the
bridge, and so make his way down the banks of the
What a fresh morning it was, wilh all sorts of
Sweet scents in the air! And here, sure enough, was a
pretty picture in the early ght a young girl Coming
over ihe bridge cartying a load of green grass on her
AN INTERMEDDLER. I49
back. What would she say if he asked her to stop
for a moment that he might sketch her pretty costume?
Her head-dress was a scarlet handkerchief, tied behind;
she wore a tight-fitting bodice of cream-white flannel,
and petdcoats of grey flannel; while she had a waist-
belt and pouch of brilliant blue. Did she know of
these harmonies of colour, or of the picturesqueness
of her appearance as she came across the bridge in
the sunlightf As she drew near she stared at the
stranger with the big, dumb eyes of a wild animal.
There was no fear, only a sort of surprised Observation
in them. And as she passed, she uttered, without a
smile, some brief and laconic salutation in Gaelic,
which, of coiurse, the young man could not understand.
He raised his cap, however, and said, ''Good morn-
ing!" and went on, with a fixed resolve to leam all
the Gaelic that Duncan could teach him.
Surely the tall keeper was in excellent spirits this
moming. Long before he drew near, Lavender could
hear, in the stillness of the moming, that he was tell-
ing stories about John the Piper and of his adventures
in such distant parts as Portree, and Oban, and even
in Glasgow.
"And it wass Allan M'Gillivray, of Styomoway,"
Duncan was saying, as he industriously whipped the
shallow runs of the stream, "will go to Glasgow with
John; and they went through ta Crinan Canal. Wass
you through ta Crinan Canal, sir?"
"Many a time."
"Ay, jist that And I hef been told it iss like a
river with ta sides o' ta house to it; and what would
Allan care for a thing like that, when he hass been to
America more than twice or four times? And it wass
r
A PRINCESS OF THTTLE.
learly troofte^l
150
when be feil into tKe canal, he was ferry nearly
for al! that; and when they pulled liim to ta shOKy
he wass 3 feny angiy man. And this iss wttat Joba
says thal Allan will say when he wass on the side of
the canal: 'JCill,' says he, '^/ wass troomJ Airre /
iDoul skow my face in Slyortiffaxiy ito mortl' But
perhaps it iss not tnie; for he will teil many lies, does
John the Piper, to hef a laugh at a man,"
"The Crinan Canal is not to be despised, Dun-
can," Said Ingram, who was sitting on the red sand of
the bank, "when you are in it."
"And do you know what John says ihat Alias
will say to him the first time they went ashore at
Glasgowl"
"I am sure 1 don't,"
"It wass many years ago, before thal Allan will be
going many times to America, and he will neffer hef'
seen such fine shops, and ta big houses, and hundreda
and htindreds of people, everyone with shoes on their
feel. And he will say to John, 'John, ef I had knauin
in time, I should hef bien hrn hert.' But no one will
believe it iss true; he is such a teffle of a liar, that
John; and he will hef sotne stories aboul Mr. Mackenzle
hiraself, as 1 hef been told, that he will lel! when he
goes to Styornoway. But John is a feny cunning fei-
low, and will not teil any such stories in Bor\'a."
"I suppose if he did, Duncan, you woutd dip him^
in Loch Roagl"
"Oh, there iss more ihan one," said Duccan, wilh
n grim twinkle in his eye, "there iss more than one
ilial would hef a joke with him, if he wass to teil
slorien liniit Mr. Mackenzie."
l.avi'iiOcr had been standing lislening, unknown
AN INTERMEDDLER. I^t
s.'
to both. He now went forward, and bade them good
morning; and then, having had a look at the trout
that Duncan had caught, pulled Ingram up from the
banky put his arm in his, and walked away with him.
''Ingram/' he said, suddenly, with a laugh and a
shrug, "you know I always come to you when Tm in
afix/'
"I suppose you do," said the other, "and you are
always welcome to whatever help I can give you. But
sometimes it seems to me you rush into fixes, with
the sort of notion that I am responsible for getting
you out"
"I can assure you nothing of the kind is the case.
I could not be so ungrateful. However in the mean-
time that is the fact is, I asked Sheila last night if
she would marry me "
The devil you did!"
Ingram dropped his companion's arm, and stood
looking at him.
"Well, I knew you would be angry," said the
younger man, in a tone of apology. "And I know I
have been too precipitate; but I thought of the short
time we should be remaining here, and of the dif-
ficulty of getting an explanation made at another
time, and it was really only to give her a hint as to
my own feelings that I spoke. I could not bear to
wait any longer "
"Never mind about yourself," said Ingram, some-
what curtly; "what did Sheila sayl"
"Well, nothing definite. What could you expect
a girl to say after so short an acquaintancef But this
I can teil you, that the proposal is not altogether dis-
tasteful to her, and that I have her permission to
r
[
152 A PRlfJCESS OF THULE,
speak of it at some future lime, when wc have knoffQ
each other longer."
"You havet"
"Ycs."
"You are quite suret"
"There is no mistake about her silence, for ex-
ample, that might have led you inlo misinterpreting
her wishes altogetherl"
"Nothing of Ihe kind is possible. Of course, I
could not ask the girl for any promise, or anything of
that so. All I asked was whether she would allow
me at some future lime to ask her more definitely;
and 1 am so well satisfied with the reply that 1 am
convinced I shall mairy her."
"And is this the fix you wish me to help you out
ofl" Said logratn, rather coldly.
"Now, Ingram," said the younger man, in peni-
tential tones, "don't cut up rough about it. You
know what I mean. Perhaps I have been hasty and
inconsiderate about it; but of one thing you may be
sure, that Sheila will never have to complain of me if
she marries me. You say I don't know her yeti
but there will be plenty of time before we are mar-
ried. I don't propose to carry her off to-morrow
moming. Now, Ingram, you know what I raean about
helping me in the fix helping me with her falher,
you kow, and with herseif, for the matter of that.
You can do anything with her, she has such a belief
in you. You should hear how she talks of you you
never heard anything like it"
It was an innocent bit of flattery; and Ingrani
Emiled goo d -natu red ly at the boy's ingenuousness.
AN INTERMEDDLER. 153
After all, was he not more loveable and more sincere
in this little bit of simple craft, used in the piteous-
ness of bis appeal, than when he was giving himself
the airs of a man about town, and talking of women
in a fashion which, to do him justice, expressed no-
thing of his real sentiments)
Ingram walked on, and said, in his slow and de-
liberate way
"You know I opposed this project of yours from
the first I don't think you have acted fairly by
Sheila, er her father, or myself, who brought you here.
But if Sheila has been drawn into it, why, then, the
whole affair is altered, and we've got to make the best
of a bad business."
"I was sure you would say that," exclaimed the
younger man, with a brighter light appearing on his
face. "You may call me all the hard names you like;
I deserve them all, and more. But then, as you
say, since Sheila is in it, you'll do your best, won't
youl"
Frank Lavender could not make out why the taci-
tum and sallow-faced man Walking beside him seemed
to be greatly amused by this speech; but he was in
no humour to take offence. He knew that, once In-
gram had promised him his help, he would not lack
all the advocacy, the advice, and even the money
should that become necessary that a warm-hearted
and disinterested friend could ofifer. Many and many
a time Ingram had helped him; and now he was to
come to his assistance in the most serious crisis of his
life. Ingram would remove Sheila's doubts. Ingram
would persuade old Mackenzie that girls had to get
married some time or other, and that Sheila ought to
154 * PRINCESS OF THULE.
live in London. Ingram would be commissionedtol
break tlie news to Mrs. Lavender-^but here, when the
young man thought of the interview with bis aunt
which he would have to encounter, a cold shiver
passed through bis frame. He would not think of it
Hc would enjoy tbe present hour. Difficulties only
grew the bigger the more they were looked at; when
they were left to tbemselves, ihey frequently disap-
peared. It was another proof of Ingram's kindlincss
that he had not even mentioned the old lady down
in Kensington, wbo was likely to bave something to
say about this mairiage.
"There are a great many difficulties in tlie way,"
said Ingram, thoughtfully.
"Yes," said Lavender, with much eagerness; "but
then, look. You. may be sure that if we get over
these, Sheila will know well who managed it, and she
will not be ungrateful to you, I think. If we ever
should be married, I am certain she will always look
on you as her greatest friend."
"It is a big bribe," said the eider man, perhaps 3
trifle sadly; and Lavender looked at hira with some
vague retum of a suspicion that some time or otlier
Ingram must himself have been in love with Sheila,
They return ed to the inn where they found
Mackenzie busy with a heap of letters and newspapers
that had been sent across to him from Stomoway.
The whole of the breakfast table was littered with
wrappers and big blue envelopes; where was Sheila,
who usually waited on her father at such times lo
keep his aftairs in orderJ
Sheila was outside; and Lavender saw her through
the open window. Was she not wailing for him, that
AN INTERMEDDLER. 155
she should pace up and down by herseif, with her
face turned away from the house? He immediately
went out, and went over to her, and she turned to
him as he approached. He fancied she looked a
trifle pale,- and far less bright and joyous than the
ordinary Sheila.
"Mr. Lavender," she said, Walking away from the
house, "I wish very much to speak to you for a
moment Last night it was all a misfortune that I
did not understand and I wish you to forget that a
Word was ever spoken about that."
Her head was bent down, and her speech was
low and broken; what she failed to explain in words,
her manner explained for her. But her companion
Said to her, with alarm and surprise in his tone
"Why, Sheila! You cannot be so cruel. Surely
you need not fear any embarrassment through so
slight a promise. It pledges you to nothing it leaves
you quite free and some day, if I come and ask
you then a question 1 have not asked you yet that
will be time enough to give me an answer."
"Oh, no, no!" said the girl, obviously in great
distress. "I cannot do that. It is unjust to you to
let you think of it and hope about it. It was last
night everything was Strange to me I did not under-
stand then but 1 have thought about it all the night
through, and now I know."
"Sheila!" called her father from the inside of the
inn; and she turned to go.
"But you do not ask that, do youl" he said. "You
are only frightened a little bit just now; but that will
go away. There is nothing to be frightened about. You
have been thinking over it, and imagining impossible
l PRINCESS OK THLE,
'ing Borva
things you have been thinliing of leaving 1
altogether "
"Oh, that I can never do!" she said, with a pathetlc
eamestness.
"But why think of such a thing?" he said. "You
need not look at all the possible troubles of life when
you take such a simple step as this. Sheila, don't be
hasly in any such resolve; you may be sure all Ihe
gloomy things you have been thinking of will disappear
when we get close to thecn. And this is such a simple
thing. I don't ask you to say you will be oiy wife I
have no right to ask you yet; but I have only asked
permission of you to iet me think of it, and even Mr^
Ingram sees no greal hrm in that "
"Does /le knowl" she said, with a start of aurprise
and fear.
"Yes," said Lavender, wishing he had bitten his
tongue in two before he had uttered the word. "You
know we have no secrets from each other: and to
whom could I go for ad vice but to your oldest
friendl"
"And what did he sayl" she asked, with a strnge
look in her eyes.
"Well, he sees a great many difficulties; but be
thinks they will easily be got over."
"Then," she said, with her eyes again cast down,
and a certain sadness in her tone, "I must explain to
him too, and teil him I had no understanding of what
I said last night."
"Sheila, you won't do that!" urged the young man.
"It means nothing it pledges you to nothing ^"
"Sheila! Sheila!" cried her father, cheerily, from
the window; "come in and Iet us hef our breakfast."
DCTXSMEDDLER. I57
*Yes, papa,* Said thc girl; and ^e went into the
boase, foBowed bj her companion.
Bnt how conld she find an opportanity of mathig
this nplanationt Shcntly after breakfeut, the wag-
ganette was at the door of the litde Baxras inn, and
Shea came oat of tiie house, and took her place in
it, with an mmsual qnietness of manncr and hopeless-
ness of look. Ingram, sitting opposite to her, and
knowing nothing of what had taken place, fancied that
this was bat an expression of girsh tbnidity; and that
it was bis bosiness to interest her and amnse her,
until she shonld forget the strangeness and newness
of her Position. Nay, as he had resolved to make the
best of matters as they stood, and as he believed that
Shea had half confessed to a special liking for bis
friend from the South, what more fitting thing could
he do than endeavour to place Lavender in the most
favourable light in her eyest He began to talk of all
the brilliant and successful things the young man had
done, as fully as he could before himself. He con-
trived to introduce pretty anecdotes of Lavender*s gene-
rosity; and there were plenty of these,for the young fellow
had never a thought of consequences if he was touched
by a tale of distress and if he could help the sufiferer
either with bis own or anyone eise's money. Ingram
talked of all their excursions together, in Devonshire,
in Brittany, and elsewhere, to impress on Sheila how
well he knew bis friend, and how long their intimacy
had lasted At first the girl was singularly reserved
and silent; but somehow, as pleasant recollections were
multiplied, and as Lavender seemed to have been
always the associate and companion of this old friend
of hers, some brighter expression came into her face
158 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
and slie grew more interested. Lavender, not know-
ing whether or not to take her decision of ihat mom-
ing as final, and not wholly perceiving the aim of this
kindly chat on the part of his friend, began to see at
least that Sheila was pleased to hear the two men help
out each olher's stories about their pedestrian ex-
cursions, and that ahe al last grew bold enough to
look up and meet his cyes in a timid fashion when
she asked hini a question.
So they drove along by the side of the sea, the
level and well-made road leading them through mes
and roiles of rough moorfand, with here and there a
fcw huts or a sheep-fold to break the monotony of
the undulaling sky-ne. Here and there, too, therp
were great cuttings of the peat-moss, with a thin line
of water in the foot of the deep black trenches, Some-
times, again, they would escape altogether from any
traces of human habitation; and Duncan would grow
excited in pointing out to Miss Sheila the young
grouse that had run off the road into the heather,
where they atood and eyed the passing carriage with
anything but a frightened air. And while Mackenzie
hummed sometliing resembling, but very vaguely re-
sembling, "Love in thine eyes for ever plays," and
while Ingram, in his quiet, desultory, and often sardonic
fashion, amused the young girl with stories of her
lover's bravery, and kindness, and dare-devil escapades,
the merry trot of the horses beat time to the bells oa
their necks, the ftesh west wind blew a cloud of white
dust away over the moorland behind them, there was
a blue sky shining all around them, and the blue
Atlantic basking in the light.
They stoppcd for a few minutes at bolh the han-
AN- INTERMEDDLER. I59
lets of Suainabost and Tabost to allow Sheila to pay
a hurried visit to one or two of the huts, while
Mackenzie, laying hold of some of the fishermen he
knew, got them to show Lavender the curing-houses,
in which the yoiing gentleman professed himself pro-
foundly interested. They also visited the school-house;
and Lavender found himself beginning to look upon
a two-storied building with Windows as something
imposing, and a decided triumph of human skill and
enterprise. But what was the school-house of Tabost
to the grand building at the Butt? They had driven
away from the high road by a path leading through
long and sweet-smelling pastures of Dutch clover.
They had got up from these sandy swathes to a table-
land of rock; and here and there they caught glimpses
of feaiful precipices leading sheer down to the boing
and dashing sea. The curious contortions of the
rocks the sharp needles of them springing in isolated
pillars firom out of the water the roar of the eddpng
currents that swept through the chasms and dashed
against the iron-bound shore the wild sea-birds that
flew about and screamed over the rushing waves and
the surge, naturally enough drew the attention of the
strangers altogether away from the land; and it was
with a Start of surprise they found themselves before
an immense mass of yellow stone-work walls, house,
and tower that shone in the sunlight And here
were the lighthouse-keeper and his wife, delighted to
see Strange faces, and most hospitably inclined; in-
somuch that Lavender, who cared little for luncheon
at any time, was constrained to take as much bread,
and cheese, and butter, and whisky as would have
made a ploughman's dinner. It was a strnge sort of
i6o
A PRINCESS OF TlilH-E.
meal this, away out at the end of ihe world, as it
were. The snug little room might have been in ihe
Marylebone-road; there were photographs about, a gay
label on die whisky-bottle , and other signs of an
advanced civilization; but outside nothing but the
wild precipices of the coast a surging sea that seeraed
alraot to Surround the place ^the wild screaming of
the sea-birds, and a single ship appearing like a speck
on the northem horizon.
They had not noticed tlie wind much as they drove
along; but now, when they went out on to the high
table-land of rock, il seemed to be blowing half a gale
across the sea. The sunlight sparkled on the glass
of the lighthouse, and the great yellow shaft of stone
slretched away upward into a perfect blue. As clear a
blue lay far beneath them, when the sea came rushing
in among the lofty crags and sharp pinnacles of rock,
biirsting into foam at their feet, and sending long jets
of white spray up into the air. In front of the great
wall of rock, the sea-birds wheeled and screamed; and
on the points of some of the islands stood several
ciirts, motionless figures of jet black on the soft brown
und green of the rock. And what was this Island
ihey looked down upon from over one of the baysl
Siircly a mighty reproduction by Nature herseif of the
Sphinx of the Egyptian plains. Could anything have
\wn niore striking, and unexpected, and impressive
ittMt ihe sudden discovery of this great mass of rock
in the wild sea, its hooded head turned away
ihe north and hidden from the spectator on
^ ' , te digantic bulk surrounded by a foam of
" luvender, with his teeth set hard against
, maa needs lake down the outlines of tliis
AN INTERMEDDLER. l6t
Strange scene upon paper; while Sheila crouched into
her father's side for shelter, and Ingram was chiey
engaged in holding on to his cap.
"It blows here a bit," said Lavender, amid the
roar of the waves. "I suppose in the winter time the
sea will sometimes break across this place 1"
"Ay, and over the top of the lighthouse, too," said
Mackenzie, with a laugh, as though he was rather
proud of the way his native seas behaved.
"Sheila," said Ingram, "I never saw^ take refuge
from the wind before."
"It is because we will be Standing still," said the
girl, with a smile which was scarcely visible because
she had half hidden her face in her father's great grey
beard. "But when Mr. Lavender is finished, we will
go down to the great hole in the rocks that you will
have seen before, and perhaps he will make a picture
of that too."
" You don't mean to say you would go down there,
Sheila," said Ingram, "and in this wind?"
"I hef been down many times before."
"Indeed, you will do nothing of the kind, Sheila,"
said her father; "you will go back to the lighthouse,
if you like yes, you may do that; and I will go down
the rocks with Mr. Lavender; but it iss not for a
yotmg lady to go about among the rocks, like a fisher-
man's lad that wants the bird's eggs, or such non-
sense."
It was quite evident that Mackenzie had very little
fear of his daughter not being able to accomplish the
descent of the rocks safely enough; it was simply a
matter ofdignity; and so Sheila was atlength persuaded
to go across the piain to a sheltered place to wait
A PriHceu qf Thule. /. IV
102 A PRINCESS Ol-' THULE,
there until the others shotild clarnber down to the
greal and naturally-formed tunnel through the rocks
tliat the artist was lo sketch.
Lavender was ill at ease- He followed his guide
mechanically as they made their way, in zigzag fashion,
down the precipitous slopes and over slipperyplateaus;
and when at last he came in sight of the mighty arch,
the long caveni, and the gllmraer of sea and shore
that could be seen through it, he began to put down
the outlines of the picture as rapidly as possible, but
with little interest in the matter. Ingram was sitting
on the bare rocks beside him; Mackenzie was some
distance otf: should he teil his friend of what Sheila
had Said in the momingl Strict honesty, perhaps, de-
manded as much; but the temptation to say nothing
was great. For it was evident ihat Ingram was now
well inclined to the project, and would do his best to
help it on; whereas, if once he knew that Sheila had
resolved against it, he too might take some sudden
step^such as insisting on their immediate retum to
the mainland which would settle the matter for ever.
Sheila had said she would herseif nike the necessary
explanation to Ingram, but she had not done soj per-
haps she might lack the courage or an opportunity to
do so; and in the meantime was not the interval al-
together favourable to his chancesT Doubtless she was
a little bit frightened at first. She would soon get less
timid; and would relent, and revoke her decision of
tlie morning. He would not, at present at any rate,
say anything to Ingram.
But when they had got up again to the summit of
the Tocks , an incidenl occurred that considerably
Startled him out of these vague and an.\ious specula-
AN INTERJMEDDLER. 163
tions. He walked straight over to the sheltered spot
in which Sheila was waiting. The rushing of the wind
doubtless drowned the sound of his footsteps, so that
he came on her unawares; and on seeing him she
rose suddenly from the rode on which she had been
sitting, with some effort to hide her face away from
him. Bat he had caught a glimpse of something in
her eyes that filled him with remorse.
"Sheila," he said, going forward to her, "what is
the matter? AVhat are you unhappy abouti"
She could not answer; she held her face tumed
from him, and cast down; and then, seeing her father
and Ingram in the distance, she set out to follow them
to the lighthouse, Lavender Walking by her side, and
wondering how he could deal with the distress that
was only too clearly written on her face.
"I know it is I who have grieved you," he said,
in a low voice, "and I am very sorry. But if you will
teil me what I can do to remove this unhappiness, I
will do it now. Shall I consider our talking together
of last night as if it had not taken place at all?"
"Yes," she said, in as low a voice, but clear, and
sad, and determined in its tone.
"And I shall speak no more to you about this af-
fair until I go away altogether?"
And again she signified her assent, gravely and
firmly.
"And then," he said, "you will soon forget all
about it; for, of course, I shall never come back to
Lewis again."
"Never?"
The word had escaped her unwillingly, and it was
11*
r
L
164 A FRISCESS OF TBLE.
acoompanied by a. qoick aptummg of Ihe face and a
frightetied look in the beaadful cyes.
"Do you wisb me come backt" be said.
"I ahould not wisb 7011 to go away from the Lewis,
through any fault of inine, and say that we sbould
ncver see you again," said ihe girl, in measured tooes,
as if sbe were oerving herseif to make the admission,
and yet fearful of saying too much.
By this time Mackenzie and Ingram had gone
round the big wall of the lighthouse; there were no
human beings on this lonely btt of heath but ihem-
selves. Laveoder stopped her, and took her band, and
said
"Don't you see, Shea, how I must never come
back to Lewis, if all this is to be forgottent And all
I want you to say is that I may come some day lo see
if you can make up your mind to be iny wife. I don't
ask that yet it is out of the question, seeing how
Short a time you have known anything about me^and
I cannot expect you to trust me as I can trust you. It
is a very Httle thing I ask only to give me a chance
at some future time, and theo, if you don't care for
me sufficiently to marry me, or if anything Stands in
the way, all you need do is to send me a single
Word, and that will suffice. This is no terrible thing
that I beg from you, Sheila. You needn't be afraid
of it."
But shc was afraid; there was nothing but fear, and
doubl, and grief in her eyes, as she gazed into the un-
known World laid open before her.
"Can't you ask some one to teil you that it is no-
thing dreadful Mr. Ingram, for examplel"
"I coulU not"
AN INTERMEDDLER. 165
"Your papa, then," he said, driven to this
desperate resource by his anxiety to save her from
pain.
"Not yet not just yet," she said, almost wildly,
"for how could I explain to himi He would ask me
what my wishes were: what could I sayl I do not
know. I cannot teil myself; and and ^I have no
mother to ask;" and here all the strain of self-control
gave way, and the girl burst into tears.
"Sheila, dear Sheila," he said, "why won't youtrust
your own heart, and let that be your guidel Won't
you say this one woTd-yes and teil me that I am to
come back to Lewis some day, and ask to see you,
and get a message from one look of your eyes)
Sheila^ may I not come back)"
If there was a reply, it was so low that he scarcely
heard it; but somehow whether from the small hand
that lay in his, or from the eyes that sent one brief
message of trust and hope through their tears*- his
question was answered; and from that moment he feit
no more misgivings, but let his love for Sheila spread
out and blossom in whatever light of fancy and im-
agination he could bring to bear on it, careless of any
future.
How the young fellow laughed and joked, as the
party drove away again from the Butt, down the long
coast-road to Barvas! He was tenderly respectful, and
a little moderate in tone, when he addressed Sheila;
but with the others he gave way to a wild exuberance
of spirits, that delighted Mackenzie beyond measure.
He told stories of the odd old gentlemen of his club,
of their opinions, their ways, their dress. He sung the
song of the "Arethusa," and the wilds of Lewis echoed
l66 A PRINCESS OF TITUIE.
with a cborus which was not just as harmonious as it
roight have been. He sung the "Jug of Punch," and
Mackenzie said that was "a teffle of a good song."
He gave imitations of some of Ingrani's companions
at tlie Board of Trade; and showed Sheila what the
inside of a Government Office was like. He paid
Mackenzie the compliment of asking him for a drop
of something out of his flask; and in retum he in-
sisted on the King smoking a cigar which, in point
of age, and sweetness, and fragrance, was really the
sort of cigar you would naturally give to the man
whose daughter you wanted to marry.
Ingram understood all this; and was pleased to see
the happy look that Sheila wore. He talked to her
with even a greater assumplion than usual of fatherly
fondness; and if she was a Utile shy, was it not
because she was conscious of so great a secreti He
was even unusually complaisant to Lavender, and lost
no opportunity of paying him indirect compliments
that Sheila could overhear.
"You poor young things!" he seemed to be saying
to himself, "yon've got all your troubles before you;
bt in the meantime you may make yourselves as
happy as you canl"
Was the weather at last about to breakj As the
aftemoon wore on, the heavens became overcast, for
the wind had gone back from the course of the sun,
and had brought up great masses of cloud from the
rainy sonth-west
"Are we going to have a storml" said Lavender,
looking along the southero sky, where the Barvas hls
were momentarily growing blacker under the gathering
darkness overhead.
AN INTERMEDDLER. 167
"A storml" sald Mackenzie, whose notions on what
constituted a storm were probably different fromthose
of his guest "No there will be no storm. But it is
no bad thing if we get back to Barvas "very soon."
Duncan sent the horses on, and Ingram looked
out Sheila's waterproof and the rugs. The southem
sky certainly looked ominous. There was a strnge
intensity of colour in the dark landscape, from the
deep purple of the Barvas hls, Coming forward to the
deep green of the pasture-land around them, and the
rieh reds and browns of the heath and the peat-cut-
tings. At one point of the clouded and hurrying sky,
however, there was a soft and vaporous line of yellow
in the grey; and, under that, miles away in the west,
a great dash of silver light Struck upon the sea, and
glowed there so that the eye could scarcely bear it
Was it the damp that brought the perfumes of the
moorland so distinctly towards them the bog-myrtle,
the water-mint, and wild thyme? There were no birds
to be heard. The crimson masses of heather on the
grey rocks seemed to have grown richer and deeper
in colour; and the Barvas hls had become large and
weird in the gloom.
"Are you afraid of thunder?" said Lavender to
Sheila.
"No," said the girl, looking frankly towards him
with her glad eyes, as though he had pleased her by
asking that not very striking question. And then she
looked round at the sea and the sky in the south, and
said, quietly, "But there will be no thunder; it is too
much wind."
Ingram, with a smUe which he could scarcely con-
ceal, hereupon remarked
l PRINCESS F THULE.
yoili
re-.|
"You're sony, Lavender, I know. Woiildn't you.
like to shelter somebody in danger, or attempt a re-
cue, or do something heroicl"
"And Mr. Lavender would do that, if there wa.
any need," said the girl, bravely; "and then it would
be nolhing to laugh at"
"Sheila, you bad girl, how dare you talk like that
to nie!" Said Ingram; and he put his arm wilhin hera,
and said he would teil her a story.
But ihis race to escape the storm was needlessj
for they were just getting within sight of Barvas, whea.
a surprising change came over the dark and thutider-
ous aftemoon. The hurrying niasses of cloud in the
west parted for a little space, and there was a suddea
and fitful glimmer of a stormy blue sky. Then a
Strange, soft, yellow, and vaporous light shot across to
the Barvas hills, and touched up palely the great
slopes, renderiog them distant, ethereal, and cloud-'
like. Then a shaft or two of wild light flashed down
upon the landscape beside them. The cattle shone.
red in the brilliant green pastures. The grey rocka
glowed in their selting of moss. The stream going by
Barvas Inn was a streak of gold in its sandy bed.
And then the sky above them broke into great billowa;
of cloud tempestuous and rounded masses of golden
vapour that bumed with the wild glare of the sunseb
The clear spaces in the sky widened, and from time'
to time the wind sent ragged bits of yellow clou4|
across the shining blue. All the world seemed to bei
on fire; and the very smoke of it the majestic raassea
of vapour that roUed by overhead burned with a be-
wildering glare. Then, as the wind still blew hard,'
and kept veering round again to the north-west, the%
AN INTERMEDDLER. 169
fiercely-lit douds were driven over onfe by one, leav-
ing a pale and serene sky to look down on the sink-
ing sun and the sea. The Atlantic caught the yellow
glow on its tumbling waves, and a deeper colourstole
across the slopes and peaks of the Barvas hls.
Whither had gone the storm? There were still some
banks of douds away up in the north-east j and in the
dear green of the evening sky, they had their distant
greys and purples faintly tinged with rose.
''And so you are anxious, and frightened, and a
little pleased," said Ingram to Sheila that evening,
after he had frankly told her what he knew, and invited
her further confidence. "That is all I can gather from
you; but it is enough. Now you can leave the rest to
me.*"
"To youl" said the girl, with a blush of pleasure
and surprise.
"Yes. I like new experiences. I am going to
become an intermeddler now. I am going to arrange
this affair, and become the negotiator between all the
parties; and then, when I have secured the happiness
of the whole of you, you will all set upon me and
beat me with sticks, and thrust me out of your
houses."
"I do not think," said Sheila, looking down, "that
you have much fear of that, Mr. Ingram."
"Is the World going to alter because of me?"
"I would rather not have you try to do anything
that is likely to get you into unhappiness," she said.
"Oh, but that is absurd. You timid young folks
can't act for yourselves. You want agents and instru-
ments that have got hardened by use. Fancy the con-
r
170 A PRtNCESS OF THLE.
dition of our aiicestors, you know, beforethey hai
sense to invent steel datvs to tear their food in pieces
what could they do widi their fingers? I am going
to be your knife and fork, Sheila; and you'U see what
I shall carve out for you. AU you've got to do is to
keep your spirits up, and beeve thal nothing dread-
ful is going to take place merely because some day
you will be asked to many, You let things take their
ordinary course. Keep your spirits up don't neglect
your music, or your dinner, or your poor people down
in Borvabost and you'U see it will all come right
enough. In a year or two, or less than that, you will
marry contentedly and happily, and your papa will
drink a good glass of whisky al the wedding, and
make jokes abouc it, and everything will be as right
as the mail. That's my advice,- see you attend to
it."
" You are very kind to nie," said the glrl, in a low
voice,
"ut if you begin to cry, Sheila, thcn I throw up
my duties do you hear) Now look there goes Mr.
Lavender down to the boat with a bndle of rugs;
and I suppose you mean me to imperil my precious
life by sailing about these rocky Channels in themoon-
liglitl Come along down to the shore; and mind you
please your papa by singing 'Love in thine eyes,'
with Mr. Lavender. And if you would add to that
'The Minute Gun at Sea,' why, you know, I may as
well have my little rewards for intermeddling now, as
I shall have to suffer afterwards."
"Not through me," said Sheila, in rather an uncer-
tain voice: and then they went down to Ih^ Maigkdean^
mhara.
"O TERQUE QUATERQUE BEATE !" I7I
CHAPTER VIII.
"O terque quaterque Beate I"
CoNSiDER what a task this unhappy man Ingram
had voluntarily undertaken! Here were two young
people presumably in love. One of them was laid
under suspicion by several previous love-affairs, though
none of these, doubtless, had been so serious as the
present The other scarcely knew her own^mind or
perhaps was afraid to question herseif too closely lest
all the conflict between duty and inclination, with its
fears and anxieties and troubles, should be too sud-
denly revealed. Moreover, this girl was the only
daughter of a solitary and irascible old gentleman
living in a remote island; and Ingram had not only
undertaken that the love-affairs of the young folks
should come all right thus assuming a responsibility
which might have appalled the bravest but was also
expected to inform the King of Borva that his daugh-
ter was about to be taken from him.
For how was Sheila to go to her father and explain
to him what she could not explain to herseif? She
had never dreamed of marriage. She had never
thought of having to leave Borva and her father's
house. But she had some vague feeling that in the
future lay many terrible possibilities that she did not
as yet dare to look at until, at least, she was more
satisfied as to the present. And how could she go to
her father with such a chaos of unformed wishes and
fears to place before himi That such a duty should
have devolved upon Ingram was certainly odd enough;
but it was not her doing. His knowledge of the
Position of these young people was not derived from
172 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
her, Having got it, l^o^ever, he had himself as^c
her to leave the whole affair in his hands , with that
kindness and generosity which had more than once
fiUed her heart with an unspeakable gratitude toward
"Well, you are a good fellow!" said Lavender to
him, when he heard of this decision.
"Bah!" Said the other, with a shrug of his Shoul-
ders, "I mean to amuse myself. I shall move you
about like pieces on a chess-board, and have a pretty
game with you. How to checkmate the king with a
knight and a princess in any numher of moves you
like that is theproblemj and my princess hasa streng
power over the king, where she is just now."
"It's an uncommonly awkward buainess, you koow,
Ingram," said Lavender, ruefuUy.
"Well, it is. Old Mackenzie is a tough old fellow
to deal with; and you'll do no good by making a fight
of it. Wait. Difficulcies don't look so formidable
when you take them one by one as they turn up. If
you really love thegirl, and mean to takeyour chance
of gelting her, and if she cares enough for you lo sa-
crifice a good deal for your sake, there is nothing to
fear."
"I can answer for myself, any way," said Lavender,
in a tone of voice that Ingram rather liked; the young
man did not always speak with the same quietnes^
thoughtfulness, and modesty.
And how naturally and easily it came about, afler
all! They were back again at Borva. They had
driven round and about Lewis, and had finished up
with Stomoway! and, now that they had got back to
the island in Loch Koag, the quatnt lite drawing-
^'O TERQUE QUATKRQUE BEATEI'' I73
room had even to Lavender a homely and friendly
look. The big stuffed fishes and the strnge shells
were old acquaintances; and he went to hunt up Sheila's
music just as if he had known that dusky comer for
years.
"Yes, yes!" called Mackenzie, "it iss the English
songs we will try now."
He had a notion that he was himself rather a good
hand at a part song ^just as Sheila had innocently
taught him to believe iat he was a brilliant whist-
player when he had mastered the art of returning his
partner's lead but fortunately at this moment he was
engaged with a long pipe and a big tumbler of hot whisky
and water. Ingram was similarly employed, lying back
in a cane-bottomed easy chair, and placidly watching
the smoke ascending to the roof. Sometimes he cast
an eye to the young folks at the other end of the
room. They formed a pretty sight, he thought. La-
vender was a good-looking fellow enough; and there
was something pleasing in the quiet and assiduous
fashion in which he waited upon Sheila, and in the
almost timid way in which he spoke to her. Sheila
herseif sat at the piano, clad all in slate-grey silk,
with a narrow band of scarlet velvet round her neck;
and it was only by a chance tuming of the head that
Ingram caught the tender and handsome profile,
broken only by the outward sweep of the long eye-
lashes.
" Love in thine eyes for ever plays,"
Sheila sang, with her father keeping time by patting
his forefinger on the table.
It
He in thy snowy bosom strays,*
sang Lavender; and then the two voices joined l-
ge ther
slhyr.
Or were there not three voices? Surely, from the back
pari of the room, the musicians could hear a wander-
ing bass come in from time to time, especially at such
portions as "Ah, he never, ah, he never, never touched
thy heart!" which old Mackenzie consideted very touch-
ing. But there was something quaint, and friendly,
and pleasant in the pathos of those Enghsh songs
which made them far more acceptable to him than
Sheila's wild and melancholy legends of the sea. He
sang, "Ah, he never, never touched thy hearti" witb
an outward expression of grief, but with much in-
ward satisfaction. Was it the quaint phraseology of
the old duets that awoke in hira some faint ambition
after histrionic effecti At all events, Sheila proceeded
to another of bis favourites "AU's We)l"^and here^
amid the brisk music, the old Highlandman had an
excellent opportunity of striking in at random.
tliese two lines he had absolutely mastered, and alr
ways sang them, whatever raight be the key he hap-
pened to light on, with great vigour. He soon went
the length of improvisiug a part for himself in the
closing passages; and laid down his pipe altogether as
bes
From that point, however, Sheila and her companioa
wandered away into fields of melody whither the King
"O TERQUE QUATERQE BEATE !" I75
of Borva could not foUow them; so he was content to
resume his pipe and listen placidly to the pretty airs.
He caught but bits and fragments of phrases and
sentiments; but they evidently were comfortable, merry,
good-natured songs for young folks to sing. There
was a good deal of love-making, and rosy moms ap-
pearing, and merry zephyrs, and such odd things,
which, sung briskly and gladly by two young and fresh
voices, rather drew the hearts of contemplative listeners
to the musicians.
"They sing very well whatever," said Mackenzie,
with a critical air, to Ingram, when the young people
were so busily engaged with their own afFairs as ap-
parently to forget the presence of the others. "Oh,
yes, they sing very well whatever; and what should
the young folks sing about but making love, and
courting, and all that?"
"Natural enough," said Ingram, looking rather
wistfully at the two at the other end of the
room. "I suppose Sheila will have a sweetheart
some dayl*'
"Oh, yes, Sheila will hef a sweetheart some
day," said her father, good-humouredly. "Sheila is
a good-looking girl; she will hef a sweetheart some
day."
"She will marry too, I suppose," said Ingram,
cautiously.
"Oh, yes, she will be marrying; Sheila will be
marrying what will be the life of a young girl if she
does not marry?"
At this moment, as Ingram afterwards described
it, a sort of "flash of Inspiration" darted in upon him,
and he resolved there and then to brave the wrath of
the old king, and place all the conspiracy before hiin,
if only the music kept loud enough to prevent his be-
ing overheard.
"It will be hard on you to parc with Sheila when
she marries," said Ingram, scarcely daring to look up.
"Oh, ah, it will be that," said Mackenzie, cheer-
fuUy eoough, "But it is everyone will hef to do thatj
and no great barm conies of it. Oh, no, it will not be
much whatever; and Sheila she will be very glad in a,
little while after, and it will be enough for me to see
that she is ferry contented and happy. The young
folk must many, you will see, and what is the use of
mairying if it is not when they are youngl But
Sheila, she will think of none of these things. It was
young Mr. Macintyre of Sutherland you hef seen him
last year in Stornoway he hass three thousand acrea
of a deer-forest in Sutherland and he will be ferry
glad to niarry Miss Sheila. But I will say to him, 'It
is not for me to say yes or no to you, Mr. Macintyre;
it is Sheila herseif will teil you that.' But he wass
afraid to speak to her; and Sheila herseif will
know nothing of why he came twice to Borva the last
year."
"It is very good of you to leave Sheila quite un
biassed in her choice," said Ingram; "many fathera
would have been sorely tempted by that deer-forest,"
Old Mackenzie laughed a loud laugh of derision,
that fortunately did not stop Lavender's execution of
"I would that my love would silently."
"What the teffle," said Mackenzie, "hef I to want
a deer-forest for my Sheila? Sheila is no fisherman*
lass, She has plenty for herseif, and she will marry
"O TERQUE QUATERQUE BEATE !'' tJJ
just the young man she wants to marry, and no other
one that is what she will do, by Kott!"
All this was most hopeful. If Mackenzie had him-
self been advocating Lavender*s suit, could he have
Said morel But notwithstanding all these frank and
generous promises dealing with a future which the
old Highlandman considered as indefinitely remote
Ingram was still afraid of the announcement he was
about to make.
"Sheila is fortunately situated," he said, "in hav-
ing a father who thinks only of her happiness. But I
sappose she has never yet shown a preference for
anyonel"
"Not for anyone but yourself," said her father,
with a laugh.
And Ingram laughed too, but in an embarrassed
way, and his sallow face grew darker with a blush.
Was there not something painful in the unintentional
implication that of course Ingram could not be con-
sidered a possible lover of Sheila's, and that the girl
herseif was so well aware of it that she could openly
testify to her regard for himi
"And it would be a good thing for Sheila," con-
tinued her father, more gravely, "if there wass any
young man about the Lewis that she would tek a
liking to; for it will be some day I can no more look
after her, and it would be bad for her to be left alone
all by herseif in the island."
"And don't you think you see before you now
some one who might take on him the Charge of
Sheila's future 1" said Ingram, looking towards Lavender.
"The English gentlemani" said Mackenzie, with a
smile. "No; that any way is not possible."
A PriHCiS* of ThuU. /. 12
178 A PKINCESS OF THULE,
"I fancy it is more than possible," said Ingt^j
lesolved lo go straighl at it. "I know for a facl that
he would like to marry your daughter, aiid 1 think
that Sheila, wilhoul knowing it heraelf almost, is well-
inclined towards hlm."
Tlie old man started up from liis chair.
"Eh! whal! my SheDal"
"Yes, papa," said t!ie girl, turning round at once,
She caught sight of a strnge look on his face,
and in an instant was by his side.
"Papa, what is the matter with you!"
" Nothing, Sheila, nothing," he said impatiently,
"I am a little tired of the niusic, that is all. Bm go
on with the music. Go back to the piano, Sheila, and
go on with the music; and Mr. Ingram and me, we
will go outside for a little while."
Mackenzie walked out of the roora, and said,
aloud in the hall
"Ay, are you coraing, Mr. Ingraml It iss a fiue.
night this night, and the wind is in a very good wayi
for the weather."
And then, as he went out to the front, he humraed'
aloud, so that Sheila should hear,
Ingram followed the old man outside, with a some-
what guilty conscifrice, suggesting odd things to him.
Would it not be possible, now, to shut one's ears for
the next half-houri Angry words were only little per-
turbations in the air. If you shut your ears tili they
were al! over, what hrm coiild be donel AU the big'
facfs of life woiild remain the same. The sea, the
"O TERQE QATERQUE BEATE !" I79
sky, the hills, the human beings around yoit, even
your desire of sleep for the night, and your wholesome
longing for breakfast in the morning, would all re-
main; and the angry words would have passed away.
ut perhaps it was a proper punishroent that he
should now go out and bear all the wrath of this
fierce old gentleman, whose daughter he had conspired
to carry off. Mackenzie was Walking up and down
the path outside, in the cool and silent night There
was not much moon now, but a clear and lambent
twilight showed all the familir features of Loch Roag
and the southem hills; and down there in the bay you
could vaguely make out the Maighean-mhara rocking
in the tiny waves that washed in on the white shore.
Ingram had never looked on this pretty picture with a
less feeling of delight.
"Well, you see, Mr. Mackenzie," he was beginning,
"you must make this excuse for him "
But Mackenzie put aside Lavender at once. It was
all about Sheila that he wanted to know. There was
no anger in his words only a great anxiety, and
sometimes an extraordinary and pathetic effort to take
a philosophical view of the Situation. What had Sheila
saidl Was Sheila deeply interested in the young
mani Would it please Sheila if he was to go indoors
and give at once his free consent to her marrying this
Mr. Lavenderl
"Oh, you must not think," said Mackenzie, with a
certain loftiness of air even amidst his great perturba-
tion and anxiety, "you must not think I hef not fore-
scen all this. It wass some day or other Sheila will
be sure to marry; and although I did not expect no,
I did not expect that that she would marry a stranger
12
iSo A PRINCEES OT THDLS.
and an Englishman, jf it will please her, that
enough. You cannot teil 3 ^oung lass the one she
should many it iss all a chance the one sbe tikes,
and if she does not man? him, it is better she will
not many at ali. Oh, yes, I know that ferry well.
And 1 hef known there wass a time Coming when I
wotild give away my Sheila to some young man; and
there iss no use complaining of iL But you hef not
totd me much about this young man or I hef for-
gotten it is the same thing whatevcr. He has not
much money, you said he is waiting for some money,
well this is what I will do. I will gwt him all my
money if he will come and live in the Lewis."
AU the philosophy he had been mustering up feil
away from that last sentence. It was like the cry of a
drowning man who sees the last lifeboat set out for
shore, leaving him to his fate. And Ingram had not
a Word to say in reply to that piteous entreaty.
"I do not ask him to stop in Borva no, it iss a
small place for one that hass lived in a town, But
the Lewis, thal is qaite different; and Ihere iss feny'
good houses in Stornoway "
"But surely, sir," said Ingram, "you need not coOr
aider all this just yet. I ara sure neither of thera hu
thought of any such thing^ "
"No," said Mackenzie, recovering himseif, "perhapa
not But we hef our duties to look at the future of
young folks. And you will say that Mr. Lavender hass
only expcctations of money!"
"Well, the expedalion is almost a certainty. His
nunl, I havc lold you, is a very rieh old lady, who has
no ollicr noar relations; and she is exceedingly fond
f him, nnd would do anything for him. I am sure
''O TERQUE QUATERQUfi BEATEP' i8i
the allowance he has now is greatiy in excess of what
she spends on herseif/'
"But they might quarrel, you know they might
quarreL You hef always to look to the future they
might quarrel, and what will he do thenl"
" Why, you don't suppose he couldn't support him-
self, if the worst were to come to the worst He is an
amazingly clever fellow "
**Ay, that is very good," said Mackenzie, in a
cautious sort of way; '^but has he ever made any
moneyl"
"Oh, I fancy not nothing to speak of. He has
sold some pictures; but I think he has given more
away."
"Then it iss not easy, tek my word for it, Mn
Ingram, to begin a new trade if you are twenty-five
years of age; and the people who will tek your pic-
tures for nothing, will they pay for them if you wanted
the money?"
It was obviously Mr. Mackenzie's eager wish to
prove to himself that, somehow or other, Lavender
might come to have no money, and be made depen-
dent on his father-in-law. So far, indeed, from sharing
the sentiments ordinarily attributed to that important
relative, he would have welcomed with a heartfelt joy
the information that the man who, as he expected,
was about to marry his daughter, was absolutely
penniless. Not even all the attractions of that deer-
forest in Sutherlandshire particularly fascinating as
they must have been to a man of his education and
Surround] ngs had been able to lead the old King of
Borva even into hinting to his daughter that the owner
of that property would like to marry her. Sheila was
l82 A riNCESS OF TnULE.
tu ciioose fr herseif. She was not like a fislierman's
lass, bound to consider ways and means. And now
that she had chosen, or, at least, indicated the possi-
bility of her doitig so, her father's chief desire was
that his future son-in-law should come and take and
enjoy his money, so only that Sheila might not be
carried away from him for ever.
"Well, i wiU see about it," said Mackenzie, with
an afTectation of cheerful and practica] shrewdness.
"Oh, yes, I will see about it, when Sheila has made
up her mind. He is a very good young man, what-
ever "
"He is the best-hearted fellow I know," said In-
gram, warmly. "I don't think Sheila has much to
fear if she marries him. If you had known him as
long as I have, you would know how considerate he
is to everybody about him, how generous he is, how
good -natu red, and cheerful, and so forth in short,
he is a thorough good fellow, that's what I have to
say about him."
"It iss well for hira he will hef such a champion,"
said Mackenzie, with a sme; "there iss not many
Sheila will pay attention to as she does to you."
They went indoors again^ Ingram scarcely knowing
how he had got so easily ihrough the ordeal, but very
glad it was over. Sheila was still at the piano, and,
on their entering, she said
"Papa, here is a song you must learn to sing with
me."
"And what iss it, Sheal" he said, going over
to her.
"'Time has not thinned my flowing hair.'"
He put his hand on her head, and said
"O TERQtJE QUATERQUE BEATE!" 183
**I hope it will be a long time before he will thin
your hair, Sheila."
The girl looked up, surprised. Scotch folks are,
as a rule, somewhat reticent in their display of afTec-
tion; and it was not often that her father talked to her
in that way. What was there in his face that made
her glance instinctively towards Ingram? Somehow
or oier her hand sought her father's hand, and she
rose and went away from the piano, with her head
bent down and tears beginning to teil in her eyes.
''YeSy that is a capital song/' said Ingram loudly.
"Sing *The Arethusa,' Lavender. ^Said the saucy
Arethusa: "
Lavender, knowing what had taken place, and not
daring to foUow with his eyes Sheila and her father,
who had gone to the other end of the room, sang the
song. Never was a gallant and devil-may-care sea-
song sung so hopelessly without spirit. But the piano
made a noise; and the verses took up time When
he had finished, he almost feared to tiun round; and
yet there was nothing dreadful in the picture that
presented itself. Sheila was sitting on her father's
knee, with her head buried in his bosom, while he was
patting her head, and talking in a low voice to her.
The King of Borva did not look particularly fierce.
" Yes, it iss a teffle of a good song," he said, sud-
denly. "Now get up, Sheila, and go and teil Mairi
we will have a bit of bread and cheese before going
to bed. And there will be a little hot water wanted
in the other room, for this room it iss too fll of the
smoke."
Sheila, as she went out of the room, had her head
cast down, and perhaps an extra tinge of colour in the
Oy TUULE.
young and pretly face. But surely, Lavender thought |
to himself, as he watched her anxiotisiy, slie did not
look grievcd. As for her father, what should he do
Qowl Turn suddenly round, and beg Mackenzie's
pardon, and throw himself on his generosity? When
he did, with much inward trembling, venture to ap-
proach the old man, he found no such explanation
possible. The King of Borva was in one of his
grandest moods dignified, courteous, cautious, and
yet inclined to treat everybody and cveryLliing with
a. sort of lofty good humour. He spoke to Lavender
in the most friendly way; but it was about the singular
and starlling fact that modern research had proved
niany of the Roman legends to be utterly uiilrust-
worthy. Mr. Mackenzie observtd that the man was
wanliog in proper courage who feared to accept the
results of such ioquiries. It was better that we should
know the truth, and then tlie kings wlio had really
made Rome great might emerge from the fog of tradi-
lion in their proper shape, There was something quite
sympathetic in the way he talkcd of those ill-treated
sovereigns, whom the vulgr niind had clothed in
niist.
lavender was sorely beset by the rival claims of
Rome and Borva upon his attention. He was inwardiy
inclined to curse Numa Pompilius which wouid have
been ineffectual when he found that pcrsonage inter-
fering with a wild effort to discover wliy Mackenzie
shoutd treat him in this way. And then it occurred
lo liini that, as he had never said a word to Mackenzie
nbout tlns aair, it was too much to expect that
Slieilft's fathcr sliould himself open the subject.
lliu Lunlrary, Mackenzie was bcnt on exicnding a gtave
^O TERQUE QUATERQUE tATE!" 185
courtesy to his guest, so that the latter should not
feel ill at ease until it suited himself to make any ex-
planations he might choose. It was not Mackenzie's
business to ask this young man if he wanted to marry
Sheila. No. The king's daughter, if she were to be
won at all, was to be won by a suitor; and it was not
for her father to be in a hurry about it. So Lavender
got back into the region of early Roman history, and
tried to recall what he had learned in Livy, and quite
coincided with everything that Niebuhr had said or
proved, and with ever3rthing that Mackenzie thought
Niebuhr had said or proved. He was only too glad,
indeed, to find himself talking to Sheila's father in this
friendly fashion.
Then Sheila came in and told them that supper
was laid in the adjoining room. At that modest meal,
a great good-humour prevailed. Sometimes, it is true,
it occurred to Ingram that Sheila cast an anxious
glance at her father, as if she were trying to discover
whether he was really satisfied, or whether he was not
merely pretending satisfaction to please her; but for
the rest the party was a most friendly and merry one.
Lavender, naturally enough, was in the highest of
spirits; and nothing could exceed the light-hearted
endeavours he made to amuse, and interest, and cheer
his companions. Sheila, indeed, sat up later than
usual, even although pipes were lit again, and the
slate-grey silk likely to bear witness to the fact in the
moming. How comfortable and homely was this sort
of life in the remote stone building overlooking the
northem sea! He began to think that he could live
always in Borva, if only Sheila were with him as his
companion.
1 S6 A PKINCKSS OF TIIULE.
Was it an actua! fact, then, he asked himself nest
morning, that he stood confessed to Ihe small world
of Borva as Sheila's accepted lover) Not a word on
the subject had passed between Mackenzie and him-
self; yet he found himself assuming the position of a
yoQOger relative, and rather expecting advice from the
old Highlandraan. He began to take a great iDterest,
too, in the local administration of the island; he ex-
amined the window-faslenings of Mackenzie's house
and saw Ihat they would be usefal in the winter; and
expressed to Sheila's father his confidentia) opinion
ihat the girl should not be allowed to go out in the
Maighdean-mkara without Duncan.
"She will know as much about boats as Duncan
himself," said her father, with a confident smile, "But
Sheila will not go out when the rough weather begins,"
"Of course you keep her indoors then)" said the
younger man, already assuming some little Charge over
Sheila's comfort
The father laughed aloud at this simplicity on the
part of the EngUshman.
"If we wass to keep indoors in the bad weaier, it
would be all the winter we would be indoors! There
iss no day at all Sheila will not be out some time or
other; and she is never so well as in the hard weather,
when she will be out always in the snow, and the
frost, and hef plenty of exercise and amusement."
"She is not often ailing, I supposel" said Lavender,
"She is 35 strong as a young pony, that is what
Sheila is," said her father, proudly. "And there is no
one in the island will run so fast, or walk as long
without tiring, or carry things from the shore as she
will, not one."
*'0 TERQUE QUATERQUE BEATE !" 187
But here he suddenly checked himself.
"That is," he said, with some little expression of
annoyance, "I wass saying Sheila could do that if it
wass any use; but she will not do such things, like a
fisherman's lass that hass to help in the work."
'Oh, of course not," said Lavender, hastily. "But
still, you know, it is pleasant to know she is so strong
and well."
And at this moment Sheila herseif appeared, ac-
companied by her great deer-hound, and testifying by
the bright colour in her face to the assurances of her
health her father had been giving. She had just come
up and over the hill from Borvabost, whe as yet
breakfast had not been served Somehow or other
Lavender fancied she never looked so bright, and
fearless, and handsome as in the early moming, with
the fresh sea-air tingling the colour in her cheeks, and
the sunlight shining in the clear eyes or touching from
time to time a glimpse of her perfect teeth. But this
moming she did not seem quite so frankly merry as
usual. She patted the deer-hound's head, and rather
kept her eyes away from her father and his companion.
And then she took Bras away to give him his break-
fast just as Ingram appeared to bid her good mom-
ing, and ask her what she meant by being about so
early.
How anxiously Lavender now began to calculate
on the remaining days of their stay in Borva! They
seemed so few. He got up at preposterously early
hours to make each day as long as possible; but it
slipped away with a fatal speed, and already he began
to think of Stomoway, and the Clansman^ and his
bidding good-bye to Sheila. He had said no more to
her of any pledge as rcgarded the future. He
conteot to see ihat she was pleased to be with hitn;
and happy indeed wcre their rarnbles about the island,
their excursions in Sheila's boat, their visits to the
White Water in search of salmon. Nor had he yet
spoken to Sheila's father. He knew that Mackenzie
knew; and both seemed to takc it for granted that no
good could come of a formal explanation until Sheila
herseif should make her wishes known. That, indeed,
was the only aspect of the case that apparenliy pre-
sented ilself to the old King of orva. He forgot al-
together ihose precautions and investigations which
ate supposed to occiipy the mind of a future father-
in-law; and onlysought to see how Sheila was affected
toivards the young man who was soon about to leave
the island. When he saw her pleased to be Walking
with Lavender, and laiking with him of an evening,
lie was pleased; and wouJd ratber have a cold dinner
than break in lipon them to hurry them home. When
he saw her disappointed because Lavender had been
unfortunate in his salmon- fishing, he was ready to
swear at Duncan fr not having had the iish in a
better temper. And ihe most of his conversation with
Ingram consisted of an endeavour to convince him-
self that, after all, what had happened was for the
best, and that Sheila seemed to be happy.
But somehow or otlier, when the time for their
dcparture was drawing near, Mackenzie showed a
Strange desire that his guests sbould spend the last
iwo days in Slomoway. When Lavender first heard
this proposal, he glanced towards Sheila, and his face
showed clearly his disappointment.
"But Sheila will go with us, too," said her father.
"a TERQXJE QATERQUE BEATE!" iSq
replying to that unuttered protest in the most innocent
fashion; and then Lavender's face brightened again,
and he said that nothing would give him greater plea-
sure than to spend two days in Stornoway.
**And you must not think," said Mackenzie, anx-
iously, "that it is one day or two days, or a great many
days, will show you all the fine things about Storn-
oway. And if you were to live in Stornoway, you
would find very good acquaintances and friends there;
and in the autumn, when the shooting begins, there
are many English who will come up, and there will be
ferry great doings at the Castle. And there is some
gentlemen now at Grimersta whom you hef not seen,
and they are ferry fine gentlemen; and at Garra-na-
hina there iss two more gentlemen for the salmon-
fishing. Oh, there iss a great many fine people in the
Lewis, and it iss not all as lonely as Borva."
**K it is half as pleasant a place to live in asBorva,
it will do," said Lavender, with a flush of enthusiasm
in his face, as he looked towards Sheila, and saw her
pleased and downcast eyes.
"But it iss not to be compared," said Mackenzie,
eagerly. "Borva that is nothing at all; but the Lewis
it is a ferry diflferent thing to live in the Lewis, and
many English gentlemen hef told me they would like
to live always in the Lewis."
"I think I should, too," said Lavender, lightly and
carelessly, little thinking what importance the old man
immediately and gladly put upon the admission.
From that moment Lavender, always unconscious
of what had happened, had nothing to fear in the way
of Opposition from Sheila's father. If he had there
and then boldly asked Mackenzie for his daughter, the
190 A PRINCESS JF TUULE.
old man would have given his consent freely, and j
bade Lavender go to Sheila herseif.
And so they set sai], one pleasant forenoon, from
Borvabosti and the light wind that ruffled the blue
of Loch Roag gently filled the matnsail of Ihe MaigA-
deaK-mkara as she lightly ran down the tortuous
Channel.
"I don't like to go away from Borva," said La-
vender, in a low voice, to Sheila, "but I might have
been leaving the island with greater regret, for, you
know, I expect to be back soii."
"We shall always be glad to see you," said the
girlj and, although he would rather have had her say
"I" than "we," there was something in the tone of her
voice that contented him.
At Garra-na-hina, Mackenzie pointed out with a
great interest to Lavender a lall man who was going
down through some meadows to the Amhumn Dhuhh,
the Black River. He had a long rod over his Shoulder;
and behind him, at some distance, foUowed a shorter
man, who carried a gaff and landing-neL Mackenzie
anxiously explained to Lavender that the tall figure
was that of an Englishman. Lavender accepted the
Statement. But would he not go down to the river
and make his acquaintancel Lavender could not un-
derstand why he shoutd be expected to tafce so great
an interest in an ordinaiy English sportsman.
"Ferry well," said Mackenzie, a trifle disappointed,
"but you would find several of the Engsh in the
Lewis if you wass Hving here."
These last two days in Stomoway were very plea-
sant On their previous visit to the town, Mackenzie
had given up rauch of his time to business affairs, and
"O TERQE QUATERQUE BEATE!" I9I
was a good deal away from his guests; but now he
devoted himself to making them particularly comfort-
able in the place and amusing them in every possible
way. He introduced Lavender, in especial, to all his
friends there, and was most anxious to impress on the
young man that life in Storno way was, on the whole,
rather a brilliant affair. Then, was there a finer point
from which you could Start at will for Invemess,
Oban, and such great centres of civilizationl Very
soon there might even be a telegraphic cable laid to
the mainland. Was Mr. Lavender aware that fre*
quently you could see the Sutherlandshire hls from
this very town of Storno way?
Here Sheila laughed; and Lavender, who kept
watching her face always, to read all her fancies and
sentiments and wishes in the shifting lights of it, im-
mediately demanded an explanation.
"It is no good thing," said Sheila, "to see the
Sutherland hills often; for when you see them, it means
to rain."
But Lavender had not been taught to fear the rain
of the Western Isles. The very weather seemed to
have conspired with Mackenzie to charm the young
man with the island. At this moment, for example,
they were driving away from Stomoway along the side
of the great bay that Stretches northward until it finds
its furthest promontory in Tiumpan Head. What
magnificence of colour shone all around them in the
hot sunlight! Where the ruffled blue sea came near
the long sweep of yellow sand it grew to be a bright,
transparent green. The splendid curve of the bay
showed a gleaming line of white where the waves
broke in masses of hissing foam; and beyond that
JiyZ A PRtNCESS OF THULE.
r:tirveagaiiilongpromontones of dark-red conglomerate
ran out into the blue waters of the sea, with their
suramits shining with the bright sea-grass. Here, close
at band, were warm meadows with calves and lamba
cropping the sweet-scented Dutch clover. A few huts,
shaped like bce-hives, stood by the road-side, close
by some deep brown peats. There was a culting in
the yellow sand of the bay for the puUing up of cap-
liired whales. Now and again you could see a sola
dart down from the blue heavens into the darker blue
of the sea, sending up a spurt of foam twenty feet
high SS he disappeared; and far out there, between
the red precipices and the raffled waters beneath,
white sea-fowl flew from crag to crag or dropped
down lipon the sea to rise and fall with the waves,
At the small hamlet of Gress they got a large row-
ing-boat inanned by sturdy fishermen, and set out to
explore the great caves formed in the mighty wall of
conglomerate that here fronts the sea. The wild-fowl
flew about them, screaming and yelling at being dis-
turbed. The long swell of the sea lifted the boat,
passed from under it, and went on with majestic force
to Crash on the glowing red crags and send Jets of
foam flying up the face of them. They captured one
of the sea-birds a young thing about as big as a hen,
with staring eyes, scant feathers, and a long beak v ' '
which it instinctively tried to bite its enemies and
the parents of it kept swooping down over the boa^
uttering shrill cries, until their offspring was restored
to the surface of the water. They went into the great
loud-sounding cavems, getting a new impression of
ihe extraordinary cleamess of llie sea- waler by the depth
at which tlie bottom was visible; and here their shoiits
"O TERQUE QUATERQUE BEATE!" 193
occasionally called up from some dim twilight recess
far in among the perilous rocks the head of a
young seal, which would instantly dive again and be
Seen no more. They watched the salmon splash in the
shallower creeks where the sea had scooped out a tiny
bay of ruddy sand; and then a slowly-rolling porpoise
would show his black back above the water and silently
disappear again. All this was pleasant enough on a
pleasant moming, in fresh sea-air and sunlight, in
holiday-time; and was there any reason, Mackenzie
may fairly have thought, why this young man, if he
did marry Sheila, should not come and live in a
place where so much healthy amusement was to be
foundf
And in the evening, too, when they had climbed
to the top of the hills on the south of Stornoway
harbour, did not the little town look sufficiently pic-
turesque, with its white houses, its shipping, its great
Castle and plantations lying in shadow under the green
of the eastem sky? Then, away to the west, what a
Strange picture presented itself ! Thick bands of grey
cloud lay across the sky, and the sunlight from behind
them sent down great rays of misty yellow on the
endless miles of moor. But how was it that, as these
shafts of sunlight Struck on the far and successive
ridges of the moorland, each long undulation seemed
to become transparent; and all the island appeared to
consist of great and golden-brown Shells, heaped up
behind each other, with the sunlight shining through?
"I have tried a good many new effects since I
came up here," said Lavender, "but I shall not try
thatr
"Oh, it iss nothing it iss nothing at all," said
A Prmceu ^ ThuU. I, \'^
194 '^ PRINCESS OF THULE.
Mackenzie, with a studied air of unconcern.
iss much more beautiful things than that in the islaad,
but you will hef need of a ferry long time before you
will find it all out. That that iss nothing a
"You will perhaps make a picture of it some other
time," Said Sheila, with her eyes cast down; and,
he was standing by her at ihe time, he took her hand,
and pressed it, and said, "I hope so."
Then, that night! Did not every hour produce
some new and wonderful scene; or was it only that
each miaute grew to be so precious, and that the t
chantment of Shea's presence filled the air around
himJ There was no maon; but the stars shone over
the bay and the harbour, and the dusky hills beyond
the Castle. Every few seconds the lightliouse at Arnish
Point sent out its wild glare of orange fire into the
heart of the clear darkness, and then as suddenly
faded out and left the eyes too bewildered to make
out the configuration of the rocks, All over the oorth-
west there still remained the pale giow of Ihe twilight;
and somehow Lavender seemed to think that that
Strange glow belonged to Sheila's home in the west,
and that the people in Stornoway knew nothing of the
wonders of LochRoag, and of the strnge nights there.
^Vas he likely ever to forget!
"Good-bye, Sheila," he said, next raoming, when
the last Signal had bcen given, and the Clansman was
aboiit to move from her moorings.
She had bidden good-bye to Ingram already, but,
somehow, she could not speak to his companion just
at this last momenl. She pressed his hand, and turned.
away, and went ashore with her father. Then the big'
r throbbed its way out of the harbour; and by
i
"farewell, mackrimmon!" 195
and by the Island of Lewis lay but as a thin blue
cloud along the horizon, and who could teil that
human beings, with strnge hopes, and fancies, and
griefs, were hidden away in that pale line of vapour?
CHAPTER IX.
"Farewell, Mackrimmon!'*
A NIGHT joumey from Greenock to London is a
sufficiently prosaic aflfair in ordinary circumstances;
but it need not be always so. What if a young man,
apparently occupied in making himself comfortable,
and in talking nonsense to his friend and companion,
should be secretly calculating how the joumey could
be made most pleasant to a bride, and that bride his
bride? Lavender made experiments with regard to the
ways and tempers of guards he borrowed planks of
wood wifh which to make sleeping-couches of an or-
dinary first-class carriage he bribed a certain official
to have the compartment secured he took note of the
time when, and the place where, refreshments could
be procured all these things he did, thinking of
Sheila. And when Ingram, sometimes surprised by
his good-nature, and occasionally remonstrating against
his extravagance, at last feil asleep on the more or
less comfortable cushions stretched across the planks,
Lavender would have him wake up again, that he
might be induced to talk once more about Sheila.
Ingram would make use of some wicked words, rub
his eyes, ask what was the last Station they had passed,
and then begin to preach to Lavender about the great
obligations he was under to Sheila, and what would
be expected of him in after-times.
13*
196 A PRINTESS OF THULE.
"You are Coming away just now," he would
while Lavender, who could not sleep at all, was only
anxious that Sheila's name should be mentioned, '
riched with a greater treasure than falls to Ihe lot of
most raen. If you know how to value that treasure,
there is not a king or emperor in Europe who should
not envy you."
"But don't you think I value ilV the other would
say, anxiously.
"We'U see about that afterwards, by what you do.
But in the raeantime you don't know what you have
won. You don't know tlie magnificent single-hearted-
ness ofthat girl, her keen sense of honour, nor the
strength of character, of judgment, and decision that
lies beneath her apparent simplicity. Why, 1 have
known Sheila, now But whafs the use of talk-
ingr'
"I wish you would talk, though, Ingram," said his
companion, quite submissively. "You have know:
longer than L I am willing to believe all you say of
her, and anxious, indeed, to know as much about her
as possible. You don't suppose I fancy she is anything
less than you sayl"
" Well ," said Ingram , doubtfully , " perhaps not
The worst of it is that you take such odd readings of
people. However, when you marry her, as I now hope
you may, you will soon find out; and then, if you are
not grateful if you don't understand and appreciate
i/ien the fine quaties of this girl, the sooner you put,
a millstone round your neck and drop over Chelsea
Bridge the better."
"She will always have in you a good friend to look
after her when she comes to London."
"farewell, mackrimmonI" 197
"Oh, don't imagine I mean to thrust myself in at
your breakfast-table to give you advice. If a husband
and wife cannot manage their own affairs satisfactorily,
no third person can; and I am getting to be an
elderly man, who likes peace, and comfort, and bis
own quiet"
"I wish you wouldn't talk such nonsense," said
Lavender, impetuously. "You know you are bound
to marry and the woman you ask to marry you will
be a precious fool if she refuses. I don't know, indeed,
how you and Sheila ever escaped "
"Look here, Lavender," said his companion, speak-
ing in a somewhat impatient way, "if you marry Sheila
Mackenzie, I suppose I may see something of both of
you firom time to time. But you are naturally jealous
and exacting, as is the "w^ay with many good fellows
who have had too much of their own way in the world;
and if you start oflf with the notion now that Sheila
and I might ever have married, or that such a thing
was ever thought of by either of us, the certain con-
sequence will be that you will become jealous of me,
and that, in time, I shall have to stop seeing either of
you, if you happen to be living in London." *
"And if ever the time comes," said Lavender,
lightly, "when I prove myself such a fool, I hope I
shall remember that a millstone can be bought in
Victoria-road, and that Chelsea Bridge is handy."
"All right: Tm going to sleep."
For some time after Ingram was permitted to rest
in peace; and it was not until they had reached some
big Station or other, towards morning, that he woke.
Lavender had never dosed his eyes.
"Haven't you been asleepl"
V PBINCESS OF THUT.E.
"No."
"What's the matter nowJ"
"My aunt."
"Vou seem to have acquired a trick recently of
looking at all the difficulties of your position at once.
Why don't you lake them singly! Vou've just got rid
of Mackenzie's Opposition that might have contented
you for a while."
"I think the best plan will be to say nothtng off
this to my aunt at present. I think we ought to get
niarried first, and when I take Sheila to see her as
wife, what can she say theni"
"But what is Sheila Hkely to say before thenl
And Sheila's fatherl You must be out of your mind."
"There will be a pretty scene, then, when I teil
her."
"Scenes don't hurt anybody, unless when they end'
in brickbats or decanters. Your aunt must know you
would marry some day,"
"Yes, but you know whom she wished me
"That is nolhing. Every old lady has a fancy for
imagining possible marriages; but your aunt i
reasonable woman, and couM not possibly object to
your marrying a girl like Sheila."
"Oh, coutdn't shel Then you don't know her.
^Fratik, my dear, what an the arms hrne by your ivifit'
/amily?' 'Sfy dear aunt, I will describe them to you
as iecomes a dutiful nepAew. The artrts are quarlerly;
first and fourth, vert, a herring, argen! ; second and
Ihird, azure, a solan-goose , Volant, or. The crest, Mii
of a erown vallery, argetit, a cash of whisky, gutes.
Supporters, dexler, a gillie, sinisier, a fisherman.' "
**FAREWELL, MACKRIMMON!" IQQ
"And a very good coat-of-arms too. You might
add the motto Uliimus regum. Or Atavis ediius re-
gtbus. Or Tyrrhena regutn progenies, To think that your
aunt would forbid your wedding a king's daughter!"
"I should wed the king's daughter, aunt or no
aunt, in any case; but you see, it would be uncom-
monly awkward ^just as old Mackenzie would want
to know something more particular about my circum-
stances and he might ask for references to the old
lady herseif, just as if I were a tenant about to take
a house **
"I have given him enough references. Go to sleep;
and don't bother yourself/'
But now Ingram feit himself just as unable as his
companion to escape into unconsciousness, and so he
roused himself thoroughly, and began to talk about
Lewis, and Borva, and the Mackenzies, and the duties
and responsibilities Lavender would undertake in
marrying Sheila.
"Mackenzie," he said, "will expect you to live in
Storno way at least half the year, and it will be very
hard on him if you don't."
"Oh, as to that," said the other, **I should have
no objection; but, you see, if I am to get married I
really think I ought to try to get into some position
of eaming my own living, or helping towards it, you
know. I begin to see how galling this sort of de-
pendence on my aunt might be, if I wished to act for
myself. Now if I were to begin to do anything, I
could not go and bury myself in Lewis for half the
year ^just at first; by and by, you know, it might be
diflferent But don't you think I ought to begin and
do something?"
L
200 A I'KINCEES OF THULE,
"Most certainly. I have oftea wished yon'
been bom a carpenter, or painter, or glazier."
"People are not bom carjjenters or glaziers, biit
somctiines they are bom painters. I think I have been
born nothing; but I am willing to try, more especiay
as I think Sheila would like it."
"I know she would."
"I wouid fix first what your occupation was to be,
if I were you. There is no hurry about telHng Sheila;
although she will be very glad to get as rauch news
of you as possible, and I hope you will spare no
titne or trouble in pleasing her in that line. By the
way, what an infamous shaoie it was of you to go and
gammon old Mackenzie into the belief that he can
read poetry; why, he will make that girl's life a brden
to her. I heard him propose to read 'Paradise Lost'
to her as soon as the rain sets in."
"I didn't gammon him," said Lavender, with a
laugh. "Every man tbinks he can read poetry better
than every other man, even as every man fancies that
no one gets cigars as good and as clieap as he does,
and thal no one can drive a dog-cart safely but him-
self. My talking about bis reading was not as bad as
Sheila's persuading him thal he can play whist, Did
you ever know a man who did not believe that every-
body eise's reading of poetry was affecied and un-
bearablel I know Mackenzie must have been reading
poetry to Sheila long before I mentioned it lo him."
"But that Suggestion about his resonant voice and
the Crystal Palace!"
"That was a jokc."
''FAREWELL, MACKRIMMON!'' 20I
^He did not take it as a joke, and neither did
Sheila."
"Well, Sheila would believe that her father could
command the Channel Fleet, or tum out the present
Ministry, or build a bridge to America, if only any-
body hinted it to her. Touching that Crystal Palace:
Did you observe how little notion of size she could
have got rom pictures when she asked me if the
Crystal Palace was much bigger than the hot-houses
at Lewis Castle?"
"What a World of wonder the girl is Coming into!"
Said the other, absently. "But it will be all lit up by
one sun, if only you take care of her, and justify her
belief in you."
"I have not much doubt," said Lavender, with a
certain modest confidence in his manner which had
repeatedly of late pleased his friend.
Even Sheila herseif could scarcely have found
London more strnge than did the two men who had
just retumed from a month's sojoum in the northem
Hebrides. The dingy trees in Euston Square, the pale
sunlight that shone down on the grey pavements, the
noise of the omnibuses and carts, the multitude of
strangers, the blue and mist-like smoke that hung
about Tottenham Court Road all were as strnge to
them as the Sensation of sitting in a hansom and being
driven along by an unseen driver. Lavender confessed
afterwards that he was pervaded by an odd sort of
desire to know whether there was anybody in London
at all like Sheila. Now and again a smartly-dressed
girl passed along the pavement what was it that
made the difference between her and that other girl
whom he had just leftl Yet he wished to have the
202 A PRINCESS OF THXJLE.
difference as decided as possible. When some bright,
fresh-coloured , pleasant-looking girl passed, he was
anxious to prove to himself that she was noi to be
compared with Sheila. Where, in all London, could
you iind eyes that told so muchl He forgot to place
ihe speciality of Sheila's eyes in ihe fact of their being
a dark grey blue under black eyelashes. What he did
remember was that no eyes could possibly say the
same things to htm as they had said. And where, in
all London, was the same sweet aspect to be found,
or the same unconsciously proud and gentle demean-
our, or the same tender friendliness expressed in a
beantiful facel He would not say anytbing against
London women, for all that, Ic was no fault of theii5
that they could not be sea-kings' daughters, with the
courage, and frankness, and sweetness of the aea gone
into their blood. He was only too pleased to have
proved to himself by looking at some half-dozen
pretty shop-girls^that not in London was there any-
one to compare with Princess Sheila.
For many a day thereafter Ingram had to sufFer a
good dca! of this sort of lover's logic, and bore it with
great forlitude. Indeed, nothing pleased hlm more
than to observe that Lavender's affection, so far from
waning, engrossed morc and more of bis thought and
his time; and he listened with unfailing good-nature
and patience to the perpetual talk of his friend about
Sheila, and her home, and the future that might be in
Store for both of them, If he had accepted half the
invitations to dinner sent down to him at the Board
of Trade by his friend, he would scarcely ever have
been out of Lavender's club. Many a long evening
they passed in tliis way eithcr in Lavender's rooms
''fArewell, mackrimmon!'* 203
in King Street or in Ingram's lodgmgs in Sloane Street.
Ingram was content to lie in a chair and smoke, some-
times putting in a word of caution to bring Lavender
back from the romantic Sheila to the real Sheila, some-
times smiling at some wQd proposal or Statement on
the part of his friend, but always glad to see that the
pretty idealisms planted during their stay in the far
North were in no danger of dying out down here in
the South. Those were great days, too, when a letter
arrived from Sheila. Nothing had been said about
their corresponding; but Lavender had written shortly
after his arrival in London, and Sheila had answered
for her father and herseif. It wanted but a very little
amount of ingenuity to continue the interchange of
letters thus begun; and when the well-known envelope
arrived, high holiday was immediately proclaimed by
the recipient of it. He did not show Ingram these
letters, of course; but the contents of them were soon
bit by bit revealed. He was also permitted to see the
envelope, as if Sheila's handwriting had some magical
charm about it. Sometimes, indeed, Ingram had him-
seif a letter from Sheila; and that was immediately
shown to Lavender. Was he pleased to find that these
Communications were excessively business-like describ-
ing how the fishing was going on, what was doing in
the schools, and how John the Piper was conducting
himself, with talk about the projected telegraphic cable,
the shooting in Harris, the health of Bras, and other
esoteric matters?
Lavender's Communications with the King of Borva
were of a different nature. Wonderful volumes on
building, agriculture, and what not, tobacco hailing
from certain royal sources in the neighbourhood of
204 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
the Pyramids, and now and again a new sort of rifle
or some fresh invention in fishing-tackle tliese were
the sort of things ihat found their way to Lewis. And
theo, in repJy, came haunches of venison, and kegs of
rare whisky, and skins of wild animals, which, all very
admirable in their way, were a trifle cumbersome in a
couple of modest rootns in King Street, SL James's.
But here Lavender hit upon a happy device. He had
long ago laiked to his aunC of the mysterioiis polentate
in the far North, who was the ruler of man, beast, and
fish, and who had an only daughter. When these pre-
sents arrived, Mrs. Lavender was informed that they
were meant for her; and was given to undersland that
they were the propitiatory gifts of a half-savage sover-
eign who wished to seek her friendship. In vain did
Ingram warn Lavender of the possible danger of this
foolish joke. The young man laughed, and would
cotne down to Sloane Street with another story of his
success as an envoy of the distant ktng.
And so the months went slowly by; and Lavender
raved about Sheila, and dreamed about Sheila, and
was always going to begin some splendid achievement
for Sheila's sake, but nevec just managed to begin.
After all, the fiiture did not look very terrible; and the
present was satisfactory enough. Mrs. Lavender had
no objection whatever to listening to his praises of
Sheila, and had even gone the length of approving of
the girl's photograph when it was shown her. Bul at
the end of six months, Lavender suddenly went dowi
to Sloane Street, found Ingram in his lodgings, and
Said
"Ingram, I start for Lewis to-morrow."
"Th more fool you," was the complacent reply.
"farewell, mackrimmon!'* 205
"I can't bear this any longer; I must go and see her."
"Youll have to bear worse if you go. You don't
know what getting to Lewis is in the winter. You'U
be killed with cold before you see the Minch."
''I can stand a good bit of cold, when there's a
reason for it," said the young man; "and I have written
to Sheila to say I shoid Start to-morrow."
^In that case I had better make use of you. I sup-
pose you won't mind taking up to Sheila a sealskin
jacket that I have bought for her."
"That you have bought for her!" said the other.
How could he have spared 1$ out of his narrow
income for such a present! And yet he laughed at the
idea of his ever having been in love with Sheila.
Lavender took the sealskin jacket with him, and
Started on his joumey to the North. It was certainly
all that Ingram had prophesied, in the way of dis-
comfort, hardship, and delay. But one forenoon, La-
vender, Coming up from the cabin of the steamer into
which he had descended to escape from the bitter wind
and the sleet, saw before him a strnge thing. In the
middle of the black sea, and under a dark grey sky,
lay a long wonder-land of gleaming snow. Far as the
eye could see the successive headlands of pale white
jutted out into the dark ocean, until in the south they
faded into a grey mist and became invisible. And
when they got into Stomoway harbour, how black
seemed the waters of the little bay, and the hulls of
the boats, and the Windows of the houses, against the
blinding white of the encircling hls!
"Yes," said Lavender to the captain, "it will be a
cold drive across to Loch Roag. I shall give Macken-
zie's man a good dram before we Start"
30 A I'RINCESS OF TIIULE.
But it was not Mr. Mackenzie's notion of hospHl
to send Duncan to nieet an honoured guest; and ere
the vessel was fast moored, Lavender had caught sight
of the well-known pair of horses, and the brown wag-
gonelte, and Mackenzie stamping up and down in the
trampled snow. And this figure close down to the edge
of the quayl Surely there was sonietliing about the
thick grey shawl, the white feather, the set of the head
that he knew!
"Why, Sheila!" he cried, jumping ashore before
the gangway was shoved across, "whatever made you
come to Slomoway oti such a dayl"
"And it is not much my coming to Stomoway if
you will come all the way from England to the Lewis,"
Said Sheila, looking up with her bright and glad eyes.
For six months he had heen ttying to recall the
tones of her voice, in looking at her picture, and had
failed; now he fancied that she spoke inore sweedy
and musically than ever.
"Ay, ay," said Mactenzie, when he had sbaken
hands wiih the young man, "it wass a piece of foolish-
ness her Coming over to meet you in Slyomoway; but
the girl will be neither ta hold nor to bind when she
teks a foolishness into her head."
"Is this the character I hear of you, Sheiial" he
said; and Mackenzie laughed at his daughter's em-
barrassment, and said she was a good lass for all that,
and bundled both the young folks into the inn, where
luncheon had been provided, with a blazing fire in
the room, and a kettle of hot water steaming beside iL
When they gol to Borva, I.avender began to see
that Mackenzie had laid the raost subile plans fot
reconciling him to the hard weather of these northem
L
^FAREWELLy MACKRIMMON!" 207
Winters; and the-yomig man, nothing loth, feil into
his way&y and was astonished at the amusement and
interest that could be got out of a residence in this
bleak Island at such a season. Mackenzie discarded
at once the feeble Protections against cold and wet
which his guest had brought with him. He gave him
a pair of his own knickerbockers and enormous boots;
he made him wear a frieze coat borrowed from Dun-
can; he insisted on his tuming down the flap of a
sealskin cap and tying the ends under his chin; and
thus equipped they started on many a rare expeditton
round the coast. But on their fTrst going out, Mackenzie,
lookix^ at him, said with some chagrin
"Will they wear gloves when they go shooting in
your countryl"
"Oh," said Lavender, "these are only a pair of old
dog-skins I use chiefly to keep my hands clean. You
see I have cut out the trigger-finger. And they keep
your hands from being numbed, you know, with the
cold or the rain."
"There will be not much need of that after a little
while," said Mackenzie; and, indeed, after half-an-
hour's tramping over snow and climbing over rocks,
Lavender was well inclined to please the old man by
tossing the gloves into the sea, for his hands were
buming with heat.
Then the pleasant evenings! after all the fatigues
of the day were over, clothes changed, dinner de-
spatched, and Sheila at the open piano in that warm
little drawing-room, with its strnge Shells, and fish,
and birds.
*' Lovc in thine cyes for cver plays ;
He in thy snowy bosom strays,"
208 A PEINCESS OF TIII.E,
they sang, just as in the bygone times of s
and now old Mackenzie had got on a bit further in
his musical studies, and could hutn with the best of
them
"He mak thy msy Hpi his che,
And v^ilks the aaia a! ihr halt."
There was no winter at all in the sniig little room,
with its ciimson fire, and closed shutters, and songs
of happier times. "When the rosy morn appearing"
had nothing inappropriate in it; and if they particularly
sCudied the words of "0 wert thou in the cauld blast,"
it was only that Shea niight teach her companion
the Scotch pronunciation, as far as slie knew iL And
once, half in joke, Lavender said he could beUeve it
was sumraer again if Shea had only on her slate-grey
silk dress, with red ribbon round her neck; and sure
enough, after dinner, she came down in that dress,
and Lavender took hei hand and kissed it in gratitude.
Just at that monient, too, Mackenzie began to swear
at Duncan for not having broughl him his pipe, and
not only went out of the room to look for it, but was
a fll half-hour in finding it. When he came in again,
he was singing carelessly,
" Lovc in iine tycs for ever plays,"
just as if he had got his pipe round the comer.
For it had been all explained by Ihis time, you
know; and Sheila had in a couple of trembling words
pledged away her life, and her father had given his
consent. More ihan that he would have done for the
girl, if need were; and when he saw the perfecl
happiness shining in her eyes when he saw that,
through some vague feelings of compunction, or
gratitude, or eviin exuberant joy, she was more Ihan
"farewell, mackrimmon!'* 209
usually affectionate towards himself he grew reconciled
to the ways of Providence, and was ready to believe
that Ingram had done them all a good tum in bring-
ing his friend from the South with him. If there was
any haunting fear at all, it was about the possibility
of Sheila's husband refusing to live in Stomoway, even
for half the year, or a portion of the year; but did
not the young man express himself as delighted
beyond measure with Lewis, and the Lewis people,
and the Sports and scenery, and climate of the islandl
If Mackenzie could have bought fine weather at 20
a day, Lavender wold have gone back to London
with the conviction that there was only one thing
better than Lewis in summer-time, and that was Lewis
in time of snow and frost.
The blow feil. One evening a distinct thaw set
in; during the night the wind went round to the
south-west; and in the moming, lo! the very desolation
of desolation, Suainabhal, Mealasabhal, Cracabhal,
were all hidden away behind dreary folds of mist; a
slow and steady rain poured down from the lowering
skies on the wet rocks, the marshy pasture-land, and
the leafless bushes; the Atlantic lay dark under a grey
fog, and you could scarcely see across the loch in
front of the house. Sometimes the wind freshened a
bit, and howled about the house, or dashed showers
against the Streaming panes; but ordinarily there was
no sound but the ceaseless hissing of the rain on the
wet gravel at the door and the rush of the waves
along the black rocks. All signs of life seemed to
have fled from the earth and the sky. Bird and beast
had alike taken shelter; and not even a gull or a sea-
A PrtHcess of ThuU. L 4
r
2 10 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
pye crossed ihe melancholy lines of moorland which
were half obscured by the mist of the rain.
"Well, it can't be fine weather always," said
Lavendel, cheerfuUy, when Mackenzie was aETecting to
be greatly surprised to find such a thing as rain in
the island of Lewis.
"No, that iss quite trae," said the old man; "it
wass ferry good weather we were having since you
hef come here. And what iss a little raini oh,
nothing at all. You will see it will go away whenever
the wind goes round."
With that Mackenzie would again go out to the
front of the house, take a tum up and down the wet
gravel, and pretend to be scanning the horizon for
signs of a change. Sheila, a good deal more honest,
went about her household duties, saying raerely lo
Laven der
"I am very sorry the weather has broken; but it
may clear before you go away from Borva."
"Before I gol Do you expect it to rain for a
weck!"
"Perhaps it will not; but it is looking very bad tt-
day," said Sheila.
"Well, I don't care," said the young man, "though
it should rain the skies down, if only you would keep
indoors, Sheila. But you do go out in such a reckless
fashion. You don't seem to reflect that il is raining."
"I do not get wet," she said,
"Why, when you came up from the shore half an
hour ago, your hair was as wet as possible, and yout
face all red and gleaming with the rain."
"But I am none the worse. And 1 am not wet
noiv. It is impossible that you will always keep in a.
**FAREWELL, MACKRIMMONI" 211
room, if you have things to do; and a little rain does
not hurt anyone/'
"It occurs to me, Sheila," he observed, slowly,
"that you are an exceedingly obstinate and self-willed
young person, and that no one has ever exercised any
proper control over you."
She looked up for a moment, with a sudden
glance of surprise and pain; then she saw in his eyes
that he meant nothing, and she went forward to him,
putting her hand in his hand, and saying with a
smile
"I am very willing to be controlled."
"Are you reallyl"
"Yes."
"Then hear my commands. You shall not go out
in time of rain without putting something over your
head, or taking an umbrella. You shall not go out in
the Maighdean-mhara without taking some one with
you besides Main. You shall never, if you are away
from home, go within fifty yards of the sea, so long
as there is snow on the rocks "
"But that is so very many things already is it
not enoughl" said Sheila.
"You will faithfuUy remember and observe these
rulesl"
"I will."
"Then you are a nlore obedient girl than I ima-
gined, or expected; and you may now, if you are
good, have the satisfaction of olTering me a glass of
Sherry and a biscuit, for, rain or no rain, Lewis is a
dreadful place for making people hungry."
Mackenzie need not have been afraid. Strange
as it may appear, Lavender was well content with the
wet weather. No depression, or impatience, or re-
monstrance was visible on liis face when he went to
the blurred Windows, day after day, lo see only the
same desolate picture the dark sea, the wet rocks,
the grey mists over the moorland, and the shining of
ihe red gravel before the hotise. He would stand
with his hands in his pocket, and whistle "Love in
thine eyes for ever plays," just as if he were looking
out on a cheerful summer sunrise. When he and
Sheila went to the door, and were received by sl cold
blast of wet wind and a driving shower of rain, he
would slam the door to again with a laugh, and pull
the girl back into the house. Sometiraes she would
not be controlled; and then he would accompany her
about the garden as she attended to her duties, or
would go down to the shore with her, to give Bras a
run. Frora these excursions he returned in the best
of spirits, with a fine colour in his face; until, having
got accuslomed to heavy boots, impervious frieze, and
the discomfort of wet hands, he grew to be about as
indifferent to the rain as Sheila herseif, and went
fishing, or shooting, or boating with much content,
whelher il was wet or dry.
"it has been the happiest month of my life I
know that," he said to Mackenzie, as they stood to-
gclhcr on the quay at Stornoway.
"And I hope you will bef tnany like it in the
I,cwia," said the old man, cheerfully.
"I think I should soon learn to become a High-
lander up here," said Lavender, "if Sheila would only
teach me the Gaelic."
"The Gaelic!" cried Mackenzie, impatiently. "The
Gaclicl It is none of the gentlemen who will come
^FAREWLL| MACKRIMMON!'' 213
here in the autumn will want the Gaelic; and what
for would you want the Gaelic ay, if you was stay-
ing here the whole year round?"
"But Sheila will teach me all the same won't
you, Sheila)'' he said, tuming to his companion, who
was gazing somewhat blankly at the rough grey sea
beyond the harbour.
"Yes," Said the girl: she seemed in no mood for
joking.
Lavender retumed to town more in love than
ever; and soon the news of his engagement was
spread abroad he nothing loth. Most of his club-
friends laughed, and prophesied it would come to
nothing. How could a man in Lavender's position
mairy anybody but an heiressl He could not afford
to go and marry a fisherman's daughter. Others came
to ie conclusion that artists, and writers, and all that
sort of people, were incomprehensible; and said "Poor
beggarl" when they thought of the fashion in which
Lavender had ruined his chances in life. His lady-
friends, however, were much more sympathetic. There
was a dash of romance in the story; and would not
the Highland girl be a curiosity for a little while after
she came to townl Was she like any of the pictures
Mr. Lavender had hanging up in his rooms? Had
he not even a sketch of herl An artist, and yet not
have a portrait of the girl he had chosen to marryl
Lavender had no portrait of Sheila to show. Some
little photographs he had he kept for his own pocket-
book; while in vain had he tried ta get some sketch
or picture that would convey to the little world of his
friends and acquaintances some notion of his future
ZI4 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
bride. They were left to draw on Iheir imaginfa
for some presentiment of the Coming pnncess.
He told Mrs. Lavender, of course. She said litde;
but sent for Edward Ingram. Him she questioned in
a cautious, close, and yet apparently indifferent way;
and then merely said that Frank was very impetuous;
that it was a pity he had resolved on marrying out of
bis own spbere of life; but that she hoped the young
lady from the Highlands would prove a good wife to
"I hope he will prove a good husband lo her,"
said Ingram, with unusual sharpness.
"Frank is very impetuousj" that was a31 Mi's.
Lavender would say.
By and by, as the spring drew on, and the lime
of the marriage was Coming nearer, the important
business of taking and fmnishing a house for Sbeila's
reception occupied the attention of the young man
fcom morning tili night. He had been somewhat dis-
appointed at the cold fashion in which his aunt
looked upon his choice admitting everything he had
to say in praise of Sheila, but never expressing any
approval of his conduct or hope about the future,
But now she showed herself most amiably and gener-
ously disposed. She supplied the young man with
abundant funds wherewith to furnish the house ac-
cording to his own fancy. It was a small house
fronting a somewhat common-place square in Notting
Hl but it was to be a niiracle of artistic adorament
inside. He tortured himself for days over rival shades
and hues; he drew designs for the cbairs; he himself
painted a good deal of panelhng; and, in short, gave
up his whole time to making Sheila's future home
"farewell, mackrimmon!" 21$
beautifuL His aunt regaxded these preparations with
littie interest; but she certainly gave her nephew ample
means to indulge the eccentricities of his fancy.
"Isn't she a dear old ladyl" said Lavender one
night to Ingram. "Look here. A cheque, received
this moming, for 200, for plate and glass."
Ingram looked at the bit of pale green paper.
"I wish you had eamed the money yourself, or
done without the plate until you could buy it with
your own money."
"Oh, confound it, Ingram, you carry your puritani-
cal theories too far! Doubtless I shall earn my own
living by and by. Give me time."
"It is now nearly a year since you thought of
marrying Sheila Mackenzie; and you have not done a
stroke of work yet"
"I beg your pardon. I have worked a good deal
of late, as you will see when you come up to my
rooms."
"Have you sold a single picture since last sum-
merl"
"I cannot make people buy my pictures if they
don't choose to do so."
"Have you made any eflfort to get them sold,
or to come to any arrangement with any of the
dealersl"
"I have been too busy of late looking after this
house, you know," said Lavender, with an air of
apology.
"You were not too busy to paint a fan for Mrs.
Lorraine, that people say must have occupied you for
months."
Lavender laughed.
r
216 A PRINCESS OF TUULE.
"Do you know, Ingram, I think you are jealous of
Mrs. Lorraine, on account of Sheila. Come, you shall
go and see her "
"No, thank you,"
"Are you afraid of your Puritan principles giving
way?"
"I am afraid that you are a very foolish boy,"
Said ihe other, with a good-humoured shrug of re-
signation; "but I hope to see you mend when you
"Ah, then you will see a difTerencel" said Lav ender,
seriously; and so the dispute ended.
It had been arranged that Ingram should go up
to Lewis to the marriage, and, after the ceremony i
Stornoway, return to Borva with Mr. Mackenzie, to
reraain with him a few days. But at the last moment
Ingram was summoned down to Devooshire, on ac-
count of the serious illness of some near relative, and
accordingly Frank Lavender started by himself to
bring back with him bis Highland bride. His stay ii
Borva was short enougb on this occasion. At the
end of it there came a certain wet and boislerous
day, the occurrences in which he afterwards re-
tnembered as if they had taken place in a dream,
There were many faces about, a confusion of tongues,
a good deal of dram-drinking, a skirl of pipes, and s
hurry through the rain; but all these things gave place
to the occasional glance that he got from a pair of
tiraid and trusting, and beautiful eyes. Yet Sheila
was not Sheila in that dress of white, with her face a
trifle pale. She was more his own Sheila when ahe
had donned her rough garments of blue, and when.
slie stood on the wet deck of the vessel, with a great
'^FAREWELL, MACKRIMMON!" 217
grey shawl around her, talking to her father with a
brave effort at cheerfulness, although her lip would
occasionally quiver as one or other of her friends
from Borva many of them barefooted children came
up to bid her good-bye. Her father talked rapidly,
with a grand affectation of indifference. He swore at
the weather. He bade her see that Bras was properly
fed; and if the sea broke over his box in the night,
he was to be rubbed dry, and let out in the moming
for a run up and down the deck. She was not to
forget the parcel directed to an innkeeper at Oban.
They would find Oban a very nice place at which to
breaJc the joumey to London; but as for Greenock
Mackenzie could find no words with which to de-
scribe Greenock. And then, in the midst of all this,
Sheila suddenly said
"Papa, when does the steamer leavel"
"In a few minutes. They have got nearly all the
cargo on board."
"Will you do me a great favour, papal"
"Ay, but what is it, Sheilal"
"I want you not to stay here tili the boat sails,
and then you will have all the people on the quay
vexing you when you are going away. I want you to
bid good-bye to us now, and drive away round to the
point, and we shall see you the last of all, when the
steamer has got out of the harbour."
"Ferry well, Sheila, I will do that," he said, know-
ing well why the girl wished it.
So father and daughter bade good-bye to each
other; and Mackenzie went on shore with his face
down, and said not a word to any of his friends on
the quay, but got into the waggonette, and lashing the
3lS A PRINCESS OF THULE,
horses, drove rapidly away, As he had shaken BaricK^
with Lavender, Lavender had said to hira, "Well, we
shall soon be back in Borva again to see you;" and
the old man had merely tightened the grip of his band
as he left.
The roar of the steampipe ceased, the throb of
the engines Struck the water, and the great steamer
steamed away from the quay and out of the piain of
the harbour into a wild world of grey waves, and wind,
and rain. There stood Mackenzie as they passed, the
dark figure clearly seen against the pallid colours of
the dismal day; and Sheila waved a handkerchief to
him, until Stornoway, and its lighthouse, and all the
promontories and bays of the great Island had faded
inlo the white mists that lay along the horizon. And
ihen her arm fe!l to her side; and for a moment she
Stood bewildered, with a strnge louk in her eyes, of
grief, and almost of despair.
"Sheila, my darling, you must go below now,"
Said her companion; "you are almost dead with cold."
She looked at him for a moment, as though she
had scarcely heard what he said. But his eyes were
fll of pity for her; he drew her closer to him, and
put his arms round her, and then she hid her head in
his bosom, and sobbed there like a child.
CHAPTER X.
"Welcome to London !"
He was about to add "Shea," but suddenly
stopped. The giil, who had hastily come forward to
FAIRY-LAND. 219
meet him, with a glad look in her eyes, and with both
hands outstretched, doubtless perceived the brief em-
barrassment of the moment, and was perhaps a little
amused by it But she took no notice of it; she
merely advanced to him, and caught both his hands,
and Said
"And are you very well?"
It was the old and familir salutation, uttered in
the same odd, gentle, insinuating fashion, and in the
same low and sweet voice. Sheila's stay in Oban,
and the few days she had already spent in London,
had not taught her the difference between "very" and
"ferry."
"Itis so Strange to hear you speak in London ,
Mrs. Lavender/' he said, with rather a wry face as he
pronounced her fll and proper title.
And now it was Sheila's tum to look a bit embar-
rassed, and colour, and appear uncertain whether to
be vexed or pleased, when her husband himself broke
in with his usual good-natured impetuosity.
"I say, Ingram, don't be absurd. Of course you
must call her Sheila unless when there are people
here, and then you may please yourself. Why, the
poor girl has enough of strnge things and names
about her already. I don't know how she keeps her
head. It would bewilder me, I know; but I can see
that, after she has stood at the window for a time,
and begun to get dazed by all the wonderful sights
and sounds outside, she suddenly withdraws and fixes
all her attention on some little domestic duty, just as
if she were hanging on to the practical things of life
to assure herseif it isn't all a dream. Isn't that so,
Sheilal" he said, putting his band on her Shoulder.
2 20 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
"You oughl not to watch me like that," she said,
with a smile. "But it is the notse that is most be-
wildering. There are tnany places I will know already
when I see tliem, many places and things I have
knowo in picturesj but now the size of them, and the
noise of carriages, and the people always passing
and always different always strangers, so that you
never see the same people any more . But I am
getting very much accustomed to it."
"You are trying very hard to get accustomed to
it, any way, my good girl," said her husband.
"You need not be in a hurry; you may begin to
regret some day that you have not a little of that feel-
ing of wonder left," said Ingram. "But you have not
told me anything of what you think about London,
and of how you like it, and how you like your house,
and what you have done with Bras, and a thousand
other things "
"I will teil you all that directly, when I have got
for you some wine and some biscuits."
"Sheila, you can ring for them," said her husband;
but she had by that time departcd on her missioo.
Presently she retumed , and waited upon Ingram just
as if she had been in her father's house in Borva, with
the gentlemen in a hurry to go out to the fishing, and
herseif the only one who could serve them.
She put a small table close by the French window;
she drew back the curtains as far as they would go
to show the sunshine of a brigbt forenoon in May
lighting up the trees in the Square and gleaming on
the pale and tall fronts of the houses beyond; and she
wheeled in three low easy-chaLrs so as to front this
comparatively cheerful prospect. Somehow or other
FATRY-LAND. 221
it seemed quite natural that Sheila should wheel in
those chairs. It was certainly no disrespect on the
part of either her husband or her visitor which caused
both of them to sit still and give her her own way
about such things. Indeed, Lavender had not as yet
ever attempted to impreso upon Sheila the necessity
of cultivating the art of helplessness. That, with other
social gracesy would perhaps come in good time. She
would soon acquire the habits and ways of her friends
and acquaintances, without his trying to force upon
her a series of afifectations, which would only em-
barrass her and cloud the perfect frankness and spon-
taneity of her natture. Of one thing he was quite
assured that, whatever mistakes Sheila might make
in Society, they would never render her ridiculous.
Strangers might not know the absolute sincerity of her
every word and act, which gave her a courage that
had no fear of criticism, but they could at least see
the simple grace and dignity of the girl, and that
natural ease of manner which is mainly the result of
a thorough consciousness of honesty. To brden her
with rules and regulations of conduct, would be to
produce the very catastrophes he wished to avoid.
Where no attempt is made, failure is impossible; and
he was meanwhile well content that Sheila should
simply appear as Sheila, even although she might
draw in a chair for a guest, or so far forget her dig-
nity as to pour out some wine for her husband.
"After all, Sheila," said Lavender, "hadn't I better
begin and teil Ingram about your surprise and delight
when you came near Oban, and saw the tall hoteis,
and the treesi It was the trees, I think, that Struck
you most; because, you know, those in Lewis well,
r
222 A TBINCESS OF THLE.
tu teil Ihe truth tlie fact is, the trees of Lewis are
not just ihey carmot be said to be "
"You bad boy, to say anythiEg against the Lewis!"
exclaimed Slieila; and Ingram held that she was right;
and that there were certain sorts of ingratitude more
dlsgracefiil thaa others, and that this was just about
the worst.
"Oh, I have brought all the good away froni
Lewis," said Lavender, with a careless impertinence.
"No," said Sheila, proudJy. "You have not
brought away ray papa; and there is nol anyone in
this country I have seen as good as he is,"
"My dear, your experience of the thirty mUlions
of folks in these islaods is quite convincing. I was
wholly in the wrong; and if you forgive me, we shall
celebrate our reconciliation in a cigarette that is to
say, Ingram and I will perform the rites, and you can
look on."
So Sheila went away to get the cigarettes also,
"You don't say you smoke in your drawing-room,
l.avenderl" said Ingram, mindful of the fastidious
ways of his friend even when he had bachelor's rooms
in King Street.
"Don't I, thought I smoke everywhere all over
the place. Don't you see, we have no visitors yet.
No one is supposed to know we have come South.
Sheila must get all sorts of things before she can be
introduced to my friends and my aunt's friends, and
the house must be put to rights, too. You wouldn't
have her go to see my aunt in that sailor's costume
Ehe used to rush about in up in Lewis)"
"That is precisely what I would have," said In-
FAIRY-LAND. 2 23
gram; '^she cannot look more handsome in any Qier
dress."
"Why, my aunt would fancy I had married a
savage I believe she fears something of the sort
now/'
"And you haven't told even her that you are in
London?"
No."
"Well, Lavender, that is a precious silly perfomi-
ance. Suppose she hears of your being in town, wiiat
will you say to her?"
"I should teil her I wanted a few days to get my
wife properly dressed before taking her about."
Ingram shrugged his Shoulders.
"Perhaps you are right. Perhaps, indeed, it would
be better if you waited six months before you intro-
duced Sheila to your friends. At present you j^m
to be keeping the footlights tumed down, until ev^ry-
thing is ready for the first aoene, and then Sheila is
to burst upon society in a blaze of light and colour.
Well, that is harmless enough; but look here. You
don't know much about her yet you will be naturally
anxious to hear what the audience, as it were, say of
her and there is just a chance of your unconsciously
adopting their impressions and opinions of Sheila,
seeing that you have no very fixed ones of your own.
Now what your social civ4i^^M|hink about her is a
difficult thing to decide; and I confess I would rather
have Seen you remain six months in Lewis before
bringing her up here."
Ingram was at least a candid friend. It was not
the first, nor the hundredth time, that Frank Lavender
had to endure small lectures^ uttered in a slow,
234 * PRINCEES OF THOLE.
deliberate voice, and yet whh an indifTerenC?
manner which showed tliat Ingram cared very little
how sharply his words Struck home. He rajely even
apologized for his bluntness. These were his opinions;
Lavender could take them or leave them as he liked-
And the younger man, after finding his face flush a
bit on being accused of wishing to make a dramatic
Impression with Sheila's ntrance into London society,
laughed in an embarrassed way, and said
"It is impossible to be angry with you, Ingram,
and yet you do talk so absurdly. I wonder who is
likely to know more about the character of a girl Ihan
her own husband!"
"You may in time; you don't now," said Ingram,
carefuUy balancing a biscuit on the point of his finger.
"The fact is," said Lavender, with good-natured
irapatience, "you are the most romantic card I know,
and there is no pleasing you. You have all sorts of
exalted notions about things afaout sentiments, and
duties, and so forth. Well, all that is true enough,
and would be right enough, if the world werc fiUed
with men and women like yourself: but then it isn't,
you see; and one has to give in to conveotionalities
of dress, and living, and ceremonies, if one wants to
retain one's friends. Now, I hke to see you going
about with that wide-awake it suits your brown c
plexion and beard ^pd ^ggt stick that would do for
herding sheep; an^the costume looks well, and is
business-like and excellent when you're off for a walk
over the Surrey downs or lying on the river-banks
about Henley or Cookham; but it isn't, you know,
the sort of costume for a stroll in the Park "
"Whenever God witbdraws from me my small '
FAIRY-LAND. 225
share of common sense," said Ingram, slowly, *'so far
that I shall begin to think of having my clothes made
for the purpose of Walking in Hyde Park well "
**But don't you see," said Lavender, "that one
must meet one's friends, especially when one is
married; and when you know that at a certain hour
in the forenoon they are all to be found in a particular
place, and that a very pleasant place and that you
will do yourself good by having a walk in the fresh
air, and so forth ^I really don't see anything very
immoral in going down for an hour or so to the
Park."
"Don't you think the pleasure of seeing one's
firiends might be postponed tili one had done some
sort of a good da/s workl" said Ingram, mindful of
the goodly promise of the youth, and knowing well
that Sheila expected the husband of her choice to
make a great name for himself one of these days.
"There now," cried Lavender, "that is another of
your delusions. You are always against superstitions,
and yet you make work a fetish. You do with work
just as women do with duty they carry about with
them a convenient little god, and they are always
worshipping it with small sacrifices, and complimenting
themselves on a series of little martyrdoms that are of
no good to anybody. Of course, duty wouldn't be
duty if it wasn't disagreeable, and when they go
nursing the sick and they could get it better done
for fifteen Shillings a week by somebody eise they
don't mind coming back to their famiilies with the
seeds of t3rphus about their gowns; and when they
crush the affections in order to worship at the shrine
of duty, they don't consider that they may be making
A Princiss of Thuli, /. 1$
226 A PRJNCESS OF THULE.
martyrs of oier folks who don't want martyrdora, and
get DO sort of pleasure out of it. Now, what in all
the World is the good of work as workl I believe
myself that work is an untnistakeable evil, involving
all sorts of jealousy, and greed, and envy; but when
il is a necessity, I suppose you get some sort of selfish
satisfaction in overcoming it; and doubtless if there
was any iramediate necessity in my case I don't
deny the necessity may arise, and that I should like
nothing better than to work for Sheila's sake "
"Now you are Coming to the point," said Ingram,
who had been listening with his usual patience to his
friend's somewhat diaotic speculations. "Perhaps you
may have to work for your wife's sake and your own;
and I confess I am surprised to see you so content
with your present circumstances. If your aunt's pro-
perty legally reverted to you if you had any sort of
family claira on it that would make some Uttle
difTerence; but you know that any sudden quarrel be-
tween you might leave you penniless to-morrow "
"In which case I shonld begin to work to-morrow;
and I should come to you for my first commission."
"And you shouldn't have it. I would have you to
go and fight the worid for yourself without which a
man knows nothing of himaelf or of his relations wiih
those around him "
"Frank, dear, here are the cigarettes," said Sheila,
at this point; and as sbe came and sat down, the
discussion ceased.
For Sheila began to teil her friend of all the
Strange adventures that had befallen her since she lefl
the far island of Lewis how sbe had seen with fear
the great mountains of Skye lit up by the wild glare
of a stormy sunrise; how she had beheld with astonish-
FAIRY-LAND. 227
ment the great firwoods of Annadale; and how green
and beautiful were the shores of the Sound of Mull.
And then, Oban! with its shining houses, its blue
bay, and its magnificent trees all lit up by a fair and
still sunshine. She had not imagined there was any-
where in the world so beautiful a place; and could
scarcely believe that London itself was more rieh and
noble, and impressive. For there were beautiful ladies
Walking along the broad pavements, and there were
shops with large Windows that seemed to contain
everjrthing that the mind could desire, and there was
a whole fleet of yachts in the bay. But it was the
trees, above all, that captivated her; and she asked if
they were lords who owned those beautiful houses
built up on the hill and half-smothered among lilacs,
and ash-trees, and rowan-trees, and ivy.
"My darling," Lavender had said to her, "if your
papa were to come and live here, he could buy half-
a-dozen of those cottages, gardens and all. They are
mostly the property of well-to-do shopkeepers. If this
little place takes your fancy, what will you say when
you go South when you see Wimbledon, and Rich-
mond, and Kew, with their grand old commons and
trees 1 Why, you could hide Oban in a comer of
Richmond Park!"
"And my papa has seen all those placesV
"Yes. Don't you think it strnge he should have
seen them all, and known he could live in any of
them, and then gone away back to Borval"
"But what would the poor people have done if he
had never gone backi"
"Oh, some one eise would have taken his place."
"And then, if he were living here, or in London,
he might have got tired, and he might have wished to
2z8 A pRntcKss or tho^
go back to ie Lewis xnd see aD tbe p^le he IraEwj
and tlien he would come amoog ibcm like a stranger,
aod have no hoase to go to."
Theo LarcDdcr sxid, qnite gentlj
"Do j-on think, SbeiU, yoo wDl erer tire of livmg
in ihe Southt"
The gilt looked up qoickly, and said, wti a soit
of sorprised qaestioning in her eyes
"No, not with you. But then we shaH often go to
the Lewis)"
"Oh, yes," her husband said, "as often as we can
conveniently, But it wl tte some dme at first, you
know, before you get to know all vay iriends who are
to be your friends, and before you get properly fitted
into your social circle. That wiU take you a long
time, Sheila, and you may have many annoyances or
embarrassments to encounter; but you won't be very
mnch afraid, my girll"
Sheila raerely looked up to him; there was no fear
in the frank, brave eyes.
The first large town she saw strack a cold chill to
her heart. Od a wet and dismal aftemoon ihey
fiaiied into Greenock. A heavy smoke hung about
the black building-yards and tiie dirty quays; the
narrow aod squalid streets were filled with mud, and
only the poorer sections of the population waded
throiigh the mire or hung disconsolately about the
Corners of Ihe thoroughfares. A gloomier picture could
not weil be conceived, and Sheila, chilled with the
long and wet sail, and bewildered by the noise and
hiLslIe of [he harbour, was driven to the hotel with a
ore heart and a downcast face,
"This is not like London, Frank," she said, pretty
neArly rcady to cry with disappointment.
FAIRY-LAND. 229
"Thisl No. Well, it is like a part of London,
certainly, but not the part you will live in."
"But how can we live in the one place without
passing the other and being made miserable by it)
There was no part of Oban like this ."
"Why, you will live miles away from the docks
and quays of London. You might live for a lifetime
in London without ever knowing it had a harbour.
Don't you be afraid, Sheila. You will live in a dis-
trict where there are far finer houses than any you
saw in Oban, and far finer trees; and within a few
minutes' walk you will find great gardens and parks,
with lakes in them and wild fowl, and you will be
able to teach the boys about how to set the heim
and the sails when they are launching their small boats."
"I should like that," said Sheila, with her face
brightening.
"Perhaps you would like a boat yourself?"
"Yes," she said, frankly. "If there were not many
people there, we might go out sometimes in the even-
ing '^
Her husband laughed, and took her hand.
"You don't understand, Sheila. The boats the
boys have are little things a foot or two long like
the one in your papa's bedroom in Borva. But many
of the boys would be greatly obliged to you if you
would teach them how to manage the sails properly;
for sometimes dreadful shipwrecks occur."
"You must bring them to our house; I am very
fond of little boys when they begin to forget to be
shy, and let you become acquainted with them."
"Well," said Lavender, "I don't know many of
the boys who sail boats in the Serpentine; you will
have to make their acquaintance yourself. But I kuo^
230 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
one boy whom I must bring to the hoitse. He is a
German-Jew boy, who is going to be another Mendels-
sohn, bis friends say. He is a. pretty boy, wilh ruddy,
brown hair, big black eyes, and a fine forehead; and
he reay sings and plays delightfully. Biityou know,
Sheila, you must not treat hira as a boy, for he is
over fifteen, I should think; and if you were to kiss
him "
"He might be angry," Said Sheila, with perfect
simplicity.
"1 might," Said Lavender; and then, noticing that
she seemed a little smprised, he merely patted her
head and bade her go and get ready for dinner.
Then came the great cmax of Sheila's southward
journey her anival in London. She was all anxiety
to see her future home; and as her luck would have
it, there was a fair Spring moming shioing over the
city. For a couple of hours before she had sat and
looked out of the carriage-window as the train whirled
rapidly through the scarcely-awakened country; and
she had seen the soft and beauliful landscapes of the
South lit up by the early suolight. How the bright
little villages shone, with here and there a gilt weather-
cock glittering on the spire of some small grey church;
while as yet in many Valleys a pale grey mist lay
along the bed of the level streams or clung to the
densc woods on the upland heights. Which was the
niore beautiful the sharp, clear picture, with its
brliant colours and its awakening life, or the moie
mystic landscape over which was still drawn the
lerder veil of even the moming hazeJ She could
not teil. She on!y knew that England, as she then
saw it, seemed a great country that was very beauti-
ful, that had few inhabitants, and that was still, and
FAIRY-LAND. 23 1
sleepy, and bathed in sunshine. How happy must
the people be in those quiet green Valleys, by the
side of slow and smooth rivers, and mid great woods
and avenues of stately trees, the like of which she
had not imagined even in her dreams!
Bat 4rom the moment that they got out at Euston
Square, she seemed a trifle be wildered, and could
only do impliciy as her husband bade her clinging
to his band, for the most part, as if to make sure of
guidance. She did, indeed, glance somewhat nervously
at the hansom into which Lavender put her, apparently
asking how such a tall and narrow two-wheeled vehicle
could be prevented toppling over. But when he,
having sent on all their luggage by a respectable old
four-wheeler, got into the hansom beside her, and put
his band inside her arm, and bade her be of good
cheer that she should have such a pleasant morning
to welcome her to LfOndon, she said "Yes," mecha-
nically, and only looked out in a wistful fashion at
the great houses and trees of Euston Square, the
mighty and roaring stream of omnibuses, the droves
of strangers mostly clad in black, as if they were
going to church, and the pale blue smoke that seemed
to mix with the sunshine and make it cold and distant
They were in no hurry, these two, on that still
morning, and so, to impress Sheila all at once with a
sense of the greatness and grandeur of London, he
made the cabman cut down by Park Crescent and
Portland Place to Regent Circus. They then went
along Oxford Street; and there were crowded omni-
buses taking young men into the City; while all the
pavements were busy with hurrying passers-by. What
multitudes of unknown faces unknown to her and
unknown to each otherl These people did not speak
232
they only hurried on, each intent upon his bwn
affairs, caring oothing, apparently, for the din around
them, and looking so strnge and sad in their black
clothes, in the pale and misty sunghL
"You are in a trance, Sheila," he said.
She did not answer. Surely she had wandered
into some magical city; for now the houses on one
side of the way suddenly ceased, and she saw before
her a great and undulating extent of green, with a
border of beautiful flowers, and with groups of trees
that met the sky all along the southem horizon. Did
the green and beautiful country she had seen shoot
in thus into the heart of the town, or was there
another city far away on the other side of the trees)
The place was almost as deserted as those still Valleys
she had passed fay in the naoming. Here, in the
Street, there was the roar of a passing crowd; but
over there was a long and almost desened Stretch of
Park, with winding roads and umbrageous trees, on
which the wan sunlight feil from between loose masses
of half-golden cloud.
Then they passed Kensington Gardens; and there
were more people Walking down the broad highways
between the elms.
"You are getting nearly home now, Sheila," he
said. "And you will be able to come and walk ia
these avenues whenever you please."
Was this, then, her homel this section of a
barrack-row of dweUings, all alte in Steps, pillars,
doors, and windowsJ When she got inside, the
servant who had opened the door bobbed a curtsey
to her: should she shake hands with lier, and say,
"And are you ferry welll" But at this moment
Lavender came running up the steps, playfuy hurried'
FAIRY-LAND. 233
her into the house and up the stairs, and led her into
her own drawing-room.
"Well, my girl, what do you think of your home,
now that you see itl"
Sheila looked round, timidly. It was not a big
room; but it was a palace in height, and grandeur,
and colour, compared with that little museum in
Borva in which Sheila's piano stood. It was all so
Strange and beautiful the split pomegranates and
quaint leaves on the upper part of the walls, and
undemeath a dull slate colour where the pictures
hung the curious painting on the frames of the mir-
rors the brilliant curtains, with their stiflF and formal
pattems. It was not very much like a home as yet
it was more like a picture that had been carefuUy
planned and executed; but she knew how he had
thought of pleasing her in choosing these things, and,
without saying a word, she took his hand and kissed
it And then she went to one of the three tall French
Windows, and looked out on the square. There,
between the trees, was a space of beautiful soft green;
and some children, dressed in bright dresses, and
attended by a govemess in sober black, had just
begun to play croquet. An elderly lady, with a small
white dog, was Walking along one of the gravelled
paths. An old man was pruning some bushes.
"It is very still and quiet here," said Sheila. "I
was afraid we should have to live in that terrible
noise always."
"I hope you won't find it dull, my darling," he said.
"Dull, when you are here?"
"But I cannot always be here, you knowl"
She looked up.
"You see, a man is so much in the way if he is
r
234 A PRIXCESS OP TBULE.
dawdling abont a house all daf long. You wotild
begin to regard me as a nuisatice, Sheila; and would
Ue for sending me ont to play croquet wilh ihose
young Broughtons merely thal you might gel ihe
roonas dusted. Besides you know 1 couidn't work
here I must have a studio of some sort in the neigh-
bourhood, of course. And then you will give me
your Orders in the moming as to when 1 am to come
loimd for luncheon or dinner."
'And you will be alone all day al yoia workJ"
"Yes."
"Then I nili come and sit with you, my poot
boy," she said.
"Much wofk I should do in that case!" be said.
"But we'U See. In the meantime go upstaiis and get
your things off; that young person below has brcak-
fasi ready, I daresay,"
"But you have not shown me yet where Mr.
Ingram lives," said Sheila, before she went lo ihe door.
"Oh, that is miles away. You have only seen a
Hitle bit of London yet. Ingram lives about as far
away from here as the distance you have just come,
but in another direction."
"It is like a World made of houses," said Sheila,
"and all filled with slrangers. But you will take me
lo see Mr. Ingram)"
"By and by, yes. But he is sure to drop in on
you as soon as he fancies you are settled in your
new home."
And here, at last, was Mr. Ingram come; and the
mcrc aound of his voice seemed to carry her back to
Horva, so that, in talking lo hira and watting on him
an of old, she would scarceiy have been surprised if
her fttlhcr had walked in to say that a coaster was
FAIRY-LAND. 235
making for the harbour, or that Duncan was going
over to Stomoway, and Sheila should have to give
him commissions. Her husband did not take the
same interest in the social and political aflairs of
Borva that Mr. Ingram did. Lavender had made a
pretence of assisting Sheila in her work among the
poor people; but the effort was a hopeless failure.
He conld not remember the name of the family that
wanted a new boat, and was visibly impatient when
Sheila would sit down to write out, for some aged
crone, a letter to her grandson in Canada. Now
Ingram, for the mere sake of occupation, had qualified
himself during his various Visits to Lewis so that he
might have become the Home Minister of the King of
Borva; and Sheila was glad to have one attentive
listener as she described all the wonderful things that
had happened in the island since the previous summer.
But Ingram had got a fll and complete holiday
on which to come up and see Sheila; and he had
brought with him the wild and startling proposal that,
in Order that she should take her first plunge into the
pleasures of civilized life, her husband and herseif
should drive down to Richmond and dine at the Star
and Carter.
"What is thatr' said Sheila.
"My dear girl," said her husband, seriously, "your
ignorance is something fearful to contemplate. It is
quite bewildering. How can a person who does not
know what the Star and Carter is, be told what the
Star and Carter is?"
"But I am willing to go and see," said Sheila.
"Then I must look after getting a brougham," said
Lavender, rising.
"A broughara on such a day as thisl" exclaimed
236 A PKINCESS OF THUL
Ingram. "Nonsense! get an open trap of same
and Sheila, just to please me, will put on ihat very
blue dress she used to wear in Borva, and the hat
and the white feather, if she has got it "
"Perhaps you. would like me to put on a, sealskin
cap and a red handkerchief instead of a collar," ob-
servcd Lavender, calmly.
"You may do as you please. Sheila and I are
going to dine at the Star and Carter."
"May I put on that blue dtessl" said the girl,
going up to her husband.
"Yes, of couTse, if you like," said Lavender, meekly,
going off to Order the carriage, and wondering by
what route he could drive those two maniacs down
to Richmond so that none of his friends should see them.
When he came back again, bringing with him a
landau which could be shut up for the homeward
journey at niglit, he had to confess that no costume
seemed to suite Sheila so well as the rough sailor-
dress; and he was so pleased with her appearancc,
that he consented al once to lel Bras go with them in
the carriage, on condition that Sheila should be
responsible for him. Indeed, after the iirst shiver of
driving away from the Square was over, he forgot that
there was much unusual about the look of this odd
pleasure-party. If you had told him, eighteen months
before, that on a bright day in May, just as people
were going home frora the Park for luncheon, he
would go for a drive in a hired trap with one hors^
his companions being a man with a brown wide-
awake, a girl dressed as though she were the owner
of a yacht, and an immense deer-hound, and that in
this fashion, he would dare to drive up to the Star
and Carter and order dinner, hc would have bet five
FAmV-LAND. 237
hundred to one that such a thing would never occur
so long as he preserved his senses. But somehow he
did not mind much. He was very much at home
with those two people beside him; the day was bright
and fresh; the horse went a good pace; and once they
were over Hammersmith Bridge and out among fields
and trees, the country looked exceedingly pretty, and
all the beauty of it was mirrored in Sheila's eyes.
"I can't quite make you out in that dress, Sheila,"
he Said. "I am not sure whether it is real and busi-
ness-like, or a theatrical costume. I have seen girls
on Ryde Pier with something of the same sort on,
only a good deal more pronounced, you know
and they loked like sham yachtsmen; and I have
seen stewardesses wearing that colour and texture of
cloth ''
"But why not leave it as it is," said Ingram, "a
solitary costume produced by certain conditions of
climate and duties, acting in conjunction with a natural
taste for harmonious colouring and simple forml That
dress, I will maintain, sprang as naturally from the salt
sea as Aphrodite did; and the man who suspects
artifice in it, or invention, has had his mind perverted
by the scepticism of modern society "
"Is my dress so very wonderfull" said Sheila, with
a grave complaisance. "I am pleased that the Lewis
has produced such a fine thing, and perhaps you
would like me to teil you its history. It was my papa
bought a piece of blue serge in Stomoway. It cost
3x. 6d. a yard, and a dressmaker in Stomoway cut it
for me, and I made it myself. That is all the history
of the wonderful dress."
Suddenly Sheila seized her husband's arm. They
had got down to the river by Mortlake; and there^ on
238 A PRJNCESS OF THUl^
the broad bosom of ihe stream, a long and slmi
boat was shooting by. puUed by four oarsmen clad in
white flannel.
"How can they go out in such a boatt" said
Shea, with a great alarm visible in her eyes: "it iS'
scarcely a boat at all; and if they touch a rock, or tf
the wind catches them- "
"Don't be frightened, Shea," said her husband.
"They are quite safe. There are no rocks in our
rivers; and the wind does not give us squalls here like
those on Loch Roag. Vou will see hundreds of thosC
boats by and by, and perhaps you yourself will g-
out in one "
"Oh, never, neverl" she said, almost with
shudder.
"Why, if the people here heard you, they would
not know how brave a sailor you are. You are not
afraid to go out at night by yourself on the sea; and
you won't go on a smooth inland river
"Buc those boats if you touch them they must
go over,"
She seemed glad to get away from the river.
could not be persuaded of the safety of the siendet
craft of the Thames; and, indeed, for sorae time after
seemed so strangely depressed that Laveoder begge
and prayed of her to teil hira what was the matter, ft
was simple enough. She had heard him speak of his
boating adventures. Was it in such boats as ihat she
had just Seen; and might he not be sorae day going
out in one of them, and an accident^the breaking of
an oar^a gust of wind
There was nothmg for it but to reassure her by
solemn promise that in no circumstance whatevO]
would he, Lavender, go into a boat without her '^
FAIRY-LAND. 239
press permission; whereupon Sheila was as grateful
to him as though he had dowered her with a king-
dom.
This was not the Richmond Hill of her fancy
this spacious height, with its great mansions, its
magnificent elms, and its view of all the westward and
wooded country, with the blue-white streak of the
river winding through the green foliage. Where was
the farm? The famous Lass of Richmond Hill must
have lived on a farm; but here, surely, were the houses
of great lords and nobles, which had apparently been
there for years and years. And was this really an
hotel that they stopped at this great building, that
she could only compare to Storno way Castle?
"Now, Sheila," said Lavender, after they had
ordered dinner, and gone out, "mind you keep a tight
hold on that leash, for Bras will see strnge things
in the Park."
"It is I who will see strnge things," she said;
and the prophecy was amply fulfiUed. For as they
went along the broad path, and came better into view
of the splendid undulations of woodland, and pasture,
and fem; when, on the one band, they saw the Thames,
far below them, flowing through the green and spacious
Valley, and, on the other band, caught some dusky
glimpse of the far white houses of London it seemed
to her that she had got into a new world, and that
this world was far more beautiful than the great city
she had left She did not care so much for the
famous view from the Hill. She had cast one quick
look to the horizon, with one throb of expectation that
the sea might be there. There was no sea there; only
the faint blue of long lines of country apparently with-
out limit Moreover, over the westera landscape a
240
faint haze prevailed, that increased in the distance
and softened down the more distant woods i
sober grey. That great extent of wooded piain, lying
sleepily in its pale raists, was not so cheerful as the
scene around her, wliere the sunlight was sharp and
ciear, the air fresh, the trees flooded with a pure and
bright colour. Here, indeed, was a cheerful i
beautiful world; and she was ful! of curiosity to know
all about it and its strnge featutes. What was the
name of this tree, and how did it differ frotn thati
Were not these rabbits over by the fence; and did
rabbits live in the midst of trees and byshes) What
sort of wood was the fence niade of; and was it not
terribly expensive to have such a protectionl Could
not he teil the cost of a wooden fence) Why did
they not use wire nettingl Was not that a loch away
down there, and what was its namel A loch wjthout
a namel Did the salmon come up to it; and did any
sea-birds ever come inland and build their nests on
its marginl
"Oh, Rras, you must come and look at the loch,
It is a long time since you will see a loch."
And away she went ihrough the thick breckan,
holding on to the swaying leash that he!d the gallop-
ing greyhound, and running as swiftly as though shc
had been making down for the shore to get oul the
Maiglidtan-mhara.
"Sheila!" called her husband, "don't be foolishl"
"Sheilal" called Ingram, "have pi^ on an old
man "
Suddenly she stopped. A brace of partridges had
suddenly spning up at some little distance, and, with
a wild whirr of their wings, were now directing their
low and rapid fght towards the bottom of the Valley.
FAIRY-LAND. 24 1
"What birds are those?" she said, peremptorily.
She took no notice of the fact that her companions
were pretty nearly too blown to speak. There was a
brisk life and colour in her face; and all her attention
was absorbed in watching the flight ot the birds.
Lavender fancied he saw in the fixed and keen look
something of old Mackenzie's grey eye it was the
rst trace of a likeness to her father he had seen.
"You bad girl," he said, "they are partridges."
She paid no heed to this reproach; for what
were those other things over there undemeath the
treesi Bras had pricked up his ears, and there was
a Strange excitement in his look and in his trembling
frame.
"Deer!" she cried, with her eyes as fixed as were
those of the dog beside her.
"Well," said her husband, calmly, "what although
they are deerl"
"ButBras " she said; and with that she caught
the leash with both her hands.
"Bras won't mind them, if you keep him quiet. I
suppose you can matiage him better than I can. I
msh we had brought a whip."
"I would rather let him kill every deer in the
Park than touch him with a whip," said Sheila,
l)roudly.
"You fearful creature, you don't know what you
say. That is high treason. If George Ranger heard
you, he would have you hanged in front of the Star
and Carter."
"Who is George Ranger?" said Sheila, with an air
as if she had said, **Io you know that I am the
daughter of the King of Borva, and whoever touches me
A Princess oj ThnU. 1. 16
2^2 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
uirVi hiwe lo answer lo my papa, viko is net a/raid ef
atiy -George Ranger."
"He is a great lord who hangs all persons who
disturb Ihe deer in this Park."
"But why do they not go awayl" said Slieila,
impatiently, "I have never seen any deer so stupid.
It is their OWQ fault if they are disturbed; why do they
remain so near to people and to housesl"
"My dear child, if Bras wasn't here, you would
probably find some of those deer Coming up to see if
you had any bits of sugar or pieces of bread about
your pockets,"
"Then they are like sheep, they are not like
deer," she said with some contempt. "If I could
only teil Bras that it is sheep he will be looking at,
he would not look any more. And so small they
are; they are as small as the roe; but they have horns
as big as many of the red deer. Do the people eat
themr'
"I suppose so."
"And what will they costl"
"I am sure I can't teil you,"
"Are they as good as the roe or the big deerl'
"I don't know that either. ( don't think I ever
ate fallow-deer. But yoit know they are not kept here
for that purpose. A great many gentlemen in this
country keep a lot of them in their parks, merely to
look pretty. They cost a great deal more than they
produce "
"They raust eat up a great deal of fine grass,
said Sheila, almost sorrowfully. "It is a beautifl
ground for sheep no rushes, no peat-raoss, only fine,
good grass, and dry land. I should like my papa to
see all this beautifl ground."
FAIRY-LAND. 243
**I fancy he has seen it."
"Was my papa herel"
"I think he said so."
"And did he see those deerl"
"Doubtless."
"He never told me of them," she said, wondering
that her papa had seen all these strnge things with-
out speaking of them.
By this time they had pretty nearly got down to
the lite lake; and Bras had been altemately coaxed
and threatened into a quiescent mood. Sheila evi-
dently expected to hear a flapping of sea-fowls' wings
when they got near the margin; and looked all round
for the first sudden dart from the banks. But a dead
silence prevailed; and as there were neither fish nor
birds to watch, she went along to a wooden bench,
and sat down tiiere, one of her companions on each
hand. It was a pretty scene that lay before her the
small Stretch of water ruffled with the wind, but show-
ing a dash of blue sky here and there ^the trees in
the enclosure beyond clad in their summer foliage,
the smooth greensward shining in the aftemoon sim-
light. Here, at least, was absolute quiet after the roar
of London; and it was somewhat wistfully that she
asked her husband how far this place was from her
home, and whether, when he was at work, she could
not come down here by herseif.
"Certainly," he said, never dreaming that she
would think of doing such a thing.
By and by they retumed to the hotel, and while
they sat at dinner a great fire of sunset spread over
the west, and the far woods became of a rieh purple,
streaked here and there with lines of pale white mist.
The river caught the glow of the crimson clouds
1^^
244 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
above, and shone duskily red amid the dark green c
the trees. Deeper and deeper grew the colour of the
sun as it sank to the horizon, unti! it disappeared be-
hind one low bar of purple cloud; and then the wild
glow in the west slowly faded away, the river became
pallid and indistinct, the white raists over the distant
woods seemed to grow denser, and then, as here and
tliere a lamp was lit far down in the valiey, one or
two pale Stars appeared in the sky overhead, and the
night came on apace.
"It is so Strange," Sheila said, "to find the dark-
ness Coming on, and not to hear the sound of the
waves. I wonder if it is a fine night at Borva."
Her husband went over to her, and led her back
to tlie table, where the candles, shining over the white
cloth and the coloured glasses, offered a more cheer-
ful picture than the deepening landscape outside.
They were in a private room; so that, when dinner
was over, Sheila was allowed to anause herseif \
the fruit, while her two cotnpanions lit their cigars.
Where was the quaint old piano, now; and the g'
of hot whisky and water; and the "Lament of
Monaltrie," or "Love in thine eyes for ever plays"!
It seemed, but for the gteatness of the room, to be a
repetition of one of those evenings at Borva that now
helonged to a far-off past. Here was Sheila,
minding the smoke, listening to Ingram as of old, and
sometimes saying something in that sweetly-inflected
Speech of hersj here was Ingram, talking, as it were,
out of a brown study, and morosely objecting to
pretty nearly everything Lavender said, but always
ready to prove Sheila right; and Lavender himself, as
unlike a mairted man as ever, talking impatiently, im
peiiioiisly, and wildly, except at such limes as he s '
FAIRY-LAND. 245
something to his young wife, and then some brief
smile and look, or some pat on the hand, said more
than words. Bat where, Sheila may have thought,
was the one wanting to complete the group) Has he
gone down to Borvabost to see about the cargoes of
fish to be sent off in the moming? Perhaps he is
talking to Duncan outside about the cleaning of the
guns, or making up cartridges in the kitchen. When
Sheila's attention wndered away from the talk of her
companions, she cbuld not help listening for the
sound of the waves; and as there was no such message
Coming to her from the great and wooded piain with-
out, her fancy took her away across that mighty
country she had travelled through, and carried her up
to the island of Loch Roag, until she almost fancied
she could smell the peat-smoke in the night-air, and
listen to the sea, and hear her father pacing up and
down the gravel outside the house, perhaps thinking
of her as she was thinking of him.
This little excursion to Richmond was long re-
membered by those three. It was the last of their
meetings before Sheila was ushered into the big
World, to busy herseif with new occupations and cares.
It was a pleasant little joumey throughout; for as they
got into the landau to drive back to town, the moon
was shining high up in the southem heavens, and the
air was mild and fresh, so that they had the carriage
opened, and Sheila, well wrapped up, lay and looked
around her with a strnge wonder and joy as they
drove undemeath the shadow of the trees and out
again into the clear sheen of the night. They saw
the river, too, flowing smoothly and palely down be-
tween its dark banks; and somehow here the silence
checked them, and they hummed no more thosc dM^X^
246 A PRINCESS OF THI
they used to sing up at Borva. Of what were
thinking, then, as they drove through tlie clear night,
along the lonely roadJ Lavender, at least, was re-
joicing at his great good fortune that he had secured
for ever to himself the true-hearted girl who now sat
opposite him, with the moonlight touching her face
and hair; and he was laiighing to himself at the notion
thathedidnot properlyappreciateher,or understand her,
or perceive her real character. If not he, who thent
Had he not watched every tum of her disposition,
every expression of her wishes, every grace of her
manner, and look of her eyesj and was he not over-
joyed to find that the more he knew of her the more
he loved her) Marriage had increased, rather than
diminished, the mystery and wonder he had woven
about her. He was more her lover now than he had
heen before his marriage. Who could see in her eyes
what he saw! Elderly fo!ks can look at a girl's eyes,
and see that they are brown, or blue, or green, as the
case may be; but the lover looks at them and sees in
them the magic mirror of a hundred possiblc worlds.
How can he fathom the sea of dreams that lies there,
or teil what strnge fancies and reminiscences may be
involved in an absent look? Is she thinking of starlil
nights on some distant lake; or of the old bygonc
days on Ihe hillsl All her former life is told there,
and yet but haif-told, and he longs to become pos-
sessed of all the beautiful past that she has scen,
Here is a constant mystery to him, and there is a.
Singular and wistful attraction for him in those still
deeps where the thoughts and dreams of an innocent
soul lic but half revealed. He does not see those
things in the eyes of women he is not in love withj
but wben, in after years, he is carelessly regarding
THE FIRST PLUNGE. 247
this or the other woman, some chance look some
brief and sudden tum oif expression will recall to
him, as with a stroke of lightning, all the old wonder-
time, and bis heart will go nigh to breaking to think
that he has grown old, that he has forgotten so much,
and that the fair, wild days of romance and longing
are passed away for ever.
^Ingram thinks I don't understand you yet, Sheila,"
he Said to her, after th^ had got home, and their
friend had gone.
Sheila only laughed, and said
"I don't understand myself, sometimes."
"Ehi whatl" he cried. "Do you mean to say
that I have married a conundrumi If I have, I don't
mean to give you up, any way; so you may go and
get me a biscuit, and a drop of the whisky we brought
from the North with us. For you are a ministering
angel, Sheila, and not a conundrum at all.''
CHAPTER XL
The first Plunge.
Frank Lavender was a good deal more concemed
than he chose to show about the effect that Sheila was
likely to produce on his aunt; and when, at length, the
day arrived on which [the young folks were to go down
to Kensington Gore, he had inwardly to confess that
Sheila seemed a great deal less perturbed than him-
self. Her perfect calmness and self-possession sur-
prised him. The manner in which she had dressed
herseif, with certain modifications which he could not
help approving, according to the fashion of the time,
seemed to him a miracle of dexterity; and how had
she acquired the art of looking at ease in this attire^
248 A PRTNCESS OF THULE,
wliich was much more cumbroas than that she had 1
usually worn in BorvaJ
If Lavender had but known the truth, he would
have begun to believe something of what Ingram liad
vaguely hinted. This poor girl was looking lowards
her Visit to Kensington Gore as the most painful trial
of her life. While she was outwardly calm and firm,
and even cheerful, her heart sank within her as
she thought of the dreaded interview. Those garments
which she wore with such an appearance of ease and
comfort had been the result of many an hour of
anxiety; for how was she to teil, from her husband's
raillery, what colours the terrible old lady in Kensing-
Eon would probably like? He did not know that every
word he said in joke about his aunt's temper, her
peevish ways, the awfiil consequences of offending her,
and so forth, were like so many needles stuck into the
girVs heart, until she was ready to cry out to be re-
leased from this fearful ordeal. Moreover, as the day
came near, what he could not see in her, she saw in
him. Was she likely to be reassured when she per-
ceived that her husband, in spite of all his fun, was
really anxious; and when she knew that some blunder
on her part might ruin himi In fact, if he had sus-
pected for a moment that she was really trembling to
think of what might happen, he might have made
some effort to give her courage. But apparently Sheila
was as cool and collected as if she had been going to
aee John the Piper. He believed she could have gonc
to be presented to the Queen without a single trenaor
of the heart.
Still, he was a man, and therefore bound to assunie
an air of palronage.
"She won't eat you, really," he said to keila,
THE FIRST PLUNGE. 249
they were driving in a hansom down Kensington
Palace Gardens. "All you have got to do is to believe
in her theories of food. She won't make you a martyr
to them. She measures every half-ounce of what she
eats; but she won't starve you; and I am glad to think,
Sheila, that you have brought a remarkably good
and sensible appetite with you from Lewis. Oh, by the
way, take care you say nothing against Marcus Aurelius."
"I don't know who he was, dear," observed Sheila,
meekly.
^He was a Roman Emperor, and a philosopher.
I suppose it was because he was an Emperor that he
found it easy to be a philosopher. However, my aunt
is awful nuts on Marcus Aurelius I beg your pardon,
you don't know the phrase. My aunt makes Marcus
Aurelius her Bible, and she is sure to read you
bits from him, which you must believe, you know."
"I will try," Said Sheila, doubtfuUy; but if "
"Oh, it has nothing to do with religion. I don't
think anybody knows what Marcus Aiurelius means, so
you may as well believe it. Ingram swears by him, but
he is always fall of odd crotchets."
"Does Mr. Ingram believe in Marcus Aurelius 1"
said Sheila, with some accession of interest.
"Why, he gave my aunt the book years ago con-
found him! and ever since she has been a nuisance
to her friends. For my own part, you know, I don't
believe that Marcus Aurelius was quite such an ass as
Plato. He talks the same sort of perpetual common-
places, but it isn't about the True, and the Gkod, and
the Beautiful. Would you like me to repeat to you
one of the Dialogues of Plato about the immortality
of Mr. Cole, and the moral effect of the South Ken-
sington Museum]"
250
A PRINCESS OF THULB.
"No, dear, I ahouldn't," said Sheila.
"You deprive yourself of a treat, but never mind.
Here we are at my aunfs house."
Sheila timidly glanced at the place, while her hus-
band paid ie cabman. It was a tall, narrow, dingy-
looking house of a darlc brick, with some black-green
ivy at the foot of the walls, and with crimson cuttains
formally arranged in every one of tbe Windows, If
Mrs. Lavender was a rieh old lady, why did she live
in such a gloomy buildingl Sheila had seen beauli-
ful white houses in all parts of London her own
house, for example, was ever so much more cheerfui
than this one; and yet she had heard with awe of the
value of this depressing littie mansion in Kensington
Gore.
The door was opened by a man, who showed
Ihem tipstairs, and announced Cheir names. Sheila's
heart beat quickly. She entered ihe drawing-room
with 3 sort of mist before her eyes; and found herseif
going forward to a lady who sat at the further end.
She had a slrangely vivid impression, amid all her
alarm, that this old lady looked like the withered
kernel of a nut. Or was she not like a cockatoo) It
was through no anticipation of dislike to Mrs. Laven-
der that the imagination of the girl got hold of that
notion. Bul the littie old lady held her head like a.
cockato. She had the hard, staring, observant, and
unimpressionable eyes of a cockato. What was therc,
moreover, about the decorations of her head that re-
minded one of a cockato when it puts up its crest
and causes its fealhers to look like sticks of celeryl
"Aunt Lavender, this is my wife."
"I am glad to see you, dear," said the old lady,
giviog her hand, but not rising. "Sit down. Whea J
THE FIRST PLTTNGE. ^51
you are a lite nervous, you ought to sit down.
Frank, give me that ammonia from the mantelpiece."
It was in a small glass phial, and labelled 'Toison."
She smdt the Stopper, and then handed it to Sheila,
telling her to do the same.
"Why did your maid do your hair in such a wayl"
she asked, suddenly.
''I haven't got a maid/' said Sheila, ^^and I always
do my hair so."
^Don't be offended. I like it. But you must not
make a fool of yourself. Your hair is too much that
of a country beauty going to a ball. Paterson will
show you how to do your hair."
''Oh, I say, aunt," cried Lavender, with a fine show
of carelessness, ''you mustn't go and spoil her hair. I
think it is very pretty as it is; and that woman of yours
would simply go and make a mop of it. You'd think
the girls now-a-days dressed their hair by shoving
their head into a furze-bush and giving it a couple of
tums."
She paid no heed to him, but tumed to Sheila,
and said
"You are an only childl"
"Yes."
"Why did you leave your father?"
The question was rather a cruel one, and it stung
Sheila into answering bravely
"Because my husband wished me,"
"Oh. You think your husband is to be the first
law of your lifel"
Yes, I do."
**Even when he is only silly Frank Lavender!"
Sheila rose. There was a quivering of her lips, but
no weakness in the proud, indignant look of her eyes.
252 A TRINClCbS OF THULE.
"What you may say of me, tha.t I do not cate^
But I will not remain to hear my husband insulted."
"Sheila," said Lavender, vexed and an^ious, and
yet pleased at the same time by the courage of the
girl. "Sheila, it is only a joke you must not mind^
it is only a bit of fun "
"I do not understand such jests," she said, cahnly.
"Sit dovra, like a good girl," said the old lady,
with an air of absolute iftdifference. "I did not naean
to offend you. Sit down, and be quiet. You will
destroy your nervous System if you give way to such
irapulses. I think you are healthy; I like the look
of you; but you will never reach a good age, as I
hope to do, except by moderating your passions, That
is well; now take the ammonia again, and give it to
me, Vou don't wish to die young, I suppose)"
"I am not afraid of dying," said Sheila.
"Ring the bell, Frank."
He did so, and a lall, spare, grave-faced woman
appeared.
"Paterson, you must put luncheon on to two ten.
I ordered it at one fty, did I notT'
"See that it is served at two ten; and take this
young lady and get her hair properly done, you un-
derstand? My nephew and I will wait luncheon for
"Yes, m'm."
Sheila rose, with a great swelling in her throat.
All her courage had ebbed away. She had reflected
how pained her husband would be if she did not
please ihis old lady; and she was now prepared to do
anything she was told, to receive meekly any remarks
[hat inight be made to her, to bc quite obedient, and
^HE Pn^ST 1LUNGE* 253
gentle, and submissive. But what was this tall and
terrible woman going to do to her? Did she really
mean to cut away those great masses of hair to which
Mrs. Lavender had objectedl Sheila would have let
her hair be cut willingly, for her husband's sake; but,
as she went to the door, some wild and despairing
notion came into her head of what her husband might
think of her, when once she was shom of this beau-
tiful personal feature. Would he look at her with sur-
prise perhaps even with disappointment?
"Mmd you don't keep luncheon late," he said to
her, as she passed him.
She but indistinctly heard him, so great was the
trembling within her. Her father would scarcely know
his altered Sheila, when she went back to Borva; and
what would Mairi say Mairi who had many a time
helped her to arrange those long tresses, and who
was as proud of them as if they were her own? She
followed Mrs. Lavender's tall maid up-stairs. She en-
tered a small dressing-room, and glanced nervously
round. Then she suddenly tumed, looked for a mo-
ment at the woman, and said, wii tears rushing up
into her eyes
"Does Mrs. Lavender wish me to cut my hairl"
The woman regarded her with astonishment
"Cut, missl ma'am, I beg yovu: pardon. No,
ma'am, not at all. I suppose it is only some difference
in the arrangement, ma'am. Mrs. Lavender is very
particular about the hair; and she has asked me to
show several ladies how to dress their hair in the way
she likes. But perhaps you would prefer letting it
remain as it is, ma'am r'
Oh no, not at all!" said Sheila. I should like
to have it just as Mrs. Lavender wishes in every way
r
254 A PRDJCES5 OF THULE.
JQst 32 she wishes. Only, it wiL nol be nectissary to
cm anyr'
"Oh no, miss ma'am; and it would be a greal
pity, if I may say so, to cut your hair."
Sheila was pleased to hear that Here was a wo-
man who had a large experience in sudi matters,
among those very ladies of her husband's social circle
whom she had been a little afraid to meet Mrs.
Patereon seemed lo admire her hair as much as ihe
simple Mairi had dose; and Sheila soon began to
have less fear of this tenible tiring-woraan, who forth-
with proceeded wilh her task.
The young wife went down-stairs with a tower
upon her head. She was very uncomfortable. She
had Seen, it is true, that this method of dressing the
hair really becaiue her or, ralher, would become her
in certain ciicumstaaces. It was grand, imposing,
statuesque; but then she did not feel statuesque just
at this moment. She could have dressed herseif to
suit this style of hair; she could have wom it with
confidence if she had got it up herseif; but here she
was the victim of an cKperimenl she feit like a
schoolgirl about for the first time to appear in public
in a long dress -and she was terribly afraid her hus-
band would laugh at her. If he had any such incli-
nalion, he courteously suppressed it. He said the
massive simplicity of this dressing of the hair suited
her admirably. Mrs. Lavnder satd thaC Paterson was
an invaluable woman; and then they went down to
the dining-room on the grouod-floor, where luncheon
had been laid,
The man who had opened the door wailed on the
two strangers; l)ie invaluable Paterson acled as a sort
of henchwomun to her mistrebs, staadiog by her chair,
THE FIRST PLUNGE. 255
and supplying her wants. She also had the manage-
ment of a small pair of silver scales, in which pretty
nearly everything that Mrs. Lavender took in the way
of solid food was carefully and accurately weighed.
The conversation was chiefly alimentary; and Sheila
listened with a growing wonder to the description of
the devices by which the ladies of Mrs. Lavender's
acquaintance were wont to cheat fatigue, or win an
appetite, or preserve their colour. When, by accident,
the girl herseif was appealed to, she had to confess
to an astonishing ignorance of all such resources. She
knew nothing of the relative strengths and efects of
wines; though she was frankly ready to make any ex-
periment her husband recommended. She knew what
camphor was, but had never heard of bismuth. On
cross-examination, she had to admit that Eau de Co-
logne did not seem to her likely to be a pleasant
liquor before going to a baU. Did she not know the
effect on brown hair of washing it in soda-water every
nightl She was equably confessing her ignorance on
all such points, when she was startled by a sudden
question from Mrs. Lavender. Did she know what she
was doing?
She looked at her plate; there was on it a piece
of cheese to which she had thoughtlessly helped herseif.
Somebody had called it Roquefort that was all she
knew.
"You have as much there, child, as would kill a
ploughman; and I suppose you would not have had
the sense to leave it."
^Is it poisonl" said Sheila, regarding her plate with
hoiTor.
"All cheese is. Paterson, my scales."
She had Sheila's plate brought to her, and the
256 A PB1NCE5S OF THDLE.
proper modicum of cheese cut, weighed, and sent
back.
"Remember, wbatever house you are at, never lo
liave more Roquefort tha.n that."
"ll would be simpler to o wilhout it," said
SheHa.
"It would be simple enough to do without agreat
many things," said Mrs. Lavender, severely. "Bul the
wisdom of living is to enjoy as many different things
as possible. so long as you do so in moderation, and
preserve your heallh. You are young you dont
think of such things. You think, because you have
good teeth and a clear complexion, you can eat any-
ihing. But that won't last A time will come. Do
you not know what the great Emperor, Marcus
Aurelius, sayst 'In a liltU while Ikou will be nobody
and nowhere, like Hadrianus and ugusluf.' "
"Yes," said Sheila.
She had not enjoyed her luncheon much she
would rather have had a ham sandwich and a glass of
spring water on the side of a Highland hill than ihis
varied and fastidious repast accompanied by a good
deal of physiology^but it was too bad that, having
successfully got through it, she should be threalened
with annihilation immediately afterwards. It was no
sori of consolation to her to know that she would be
in the same plight with two emperors.
" Frank, you can go and smoke a cigar in the con-
ni;rvatory, if you please. Your wife will conie npstairs
ivith mc and have a talk."
Sheila would much rather have gone inlo the con-
wrvnlory also; but she obediently foUowed Mrs. La-
vmdcr upstairs and into the drawing-rooin. I
nitlirr ft niclanclioly Chamber tlie curlains shuttiitg
THE FmST PLUNGfi. ^57
out most of the daylight, and leaving you in a semi-
darkness that made the place look big, and vague,
and spectral. The little, shrivelled woman, with the
hard and staring eyes, and sUver-grey hair, bade Sheila
sit down beside her. She herseif sat by a small table,
on which there were a tiny pau* of scales, a bottle of
ammonia, a fan, and a book bound in an old-fashioned
binding of scarlet morocco and gold. Sheila wished
this old woman would not look at her so. She wished
there was a window open, or a glint of sunlight Com-
ing in somewhere. But she was glad that her hus-
band was enjojdng himself in the conservatory; and
that for two reasons. One of them was that she did
not like the tone of his talk while he and his aunt
had been conversing together about cosmetics and
such matters. Not only did he betray a marvellous
acquaintance with such things, but he seemed to take
an odd sort of pleasure in exhibiting his knowledge.
He talked in a mocking way about the tricks of fa-
shionable women that Sheila did not quite like: and
of course she naturally threw the blame on Mrs.
Lavender. It was only when this old woman exerted
a godless influence over him that her good boy talked
in such a fashion. There was nothing of that about
him up in Lewis, nor yet at home, in a certain snug
little smoking-room which these two had come to con-
sider the most comfortable comer in the house. Sheila
began to hate women who used lip-salve, and silently
recorded a vow that never, never, never would she
wear anybody's hair but her own.
*Do you suflfer from headache?" said Mrs. Lavender,
abruptly.
"Sometimes," said Sheila.
A Princttt 0/ ThttU. L 17
258 A PR1NCE5S OP THULF..
"How oftenl What is an averageJ Two a weekl"
"Oh, sometimes I have not a headache for three
or four months at a lime."
"No toothachc)"
"No."
"What did your mother die ofj"
"It was a fever," said Shea, in a low voice, "and
she caught it while she was helping a family that was
very bad with the fever."
"Does your father ever suffer from rheumatisml"
"No," Said Shea. "My papa is the strengest man
in the Lewis, I am sure of that."
"But the strengest of us, you know," said Mrs.
I,avender, iooking hardly at the girl, "the strengest of
IIS will die and go into the general order of the uni-
versei and it is a good thing for you that, as you say,
you are not afraid. Why should yoa be afraidl Listen
to this passage,"
She opened the red book, and guided herseif to a
certain page by one of a series of coloured ribbons.
"'//rr Toho/ears dealk either fears Ihe loss 0/ tensa-
iin or a different kind a/ sensalion. Bai if thou skalt
have no Sensation, neilker will thou feel any hrm; and
if thou shall aequire another kind of Sensation, thou will
be-a different kind of living being, and thou wilt not
cease to live.' Do you perceive the wlsdom of thall"
"Yes," said Shea, and her own voice seemed
hollow and strnge to her in this big and dimly-lil
Chamber. Mrs, Lavender tumed over a few more
pages, and proceeded to read again; and as she did
so, in a low, unsympathetic, raonotonous voice, a spell
came over the girl, the weighl at her heart grew more
and more intokrabie, and the room seerod lo grow
THE HRST PLUNGE. 259
^* Short ihen ts the time which every man lives^ and
small the nook of the earth where he lives; and short
too the langest pasthumous /ame y and even thts only con-
tinued by a succession of poor human beings^ who will
very soon die^ and who know not even themselveSj much
less him who dted long ago* You cannot do better
than ask your husband to buy you a copy of this
book, and give it special study. It will comfort you
in affliction, and reconcile you to whatever may
happen to you. Listen. ^Soon will the earth cover us
all; then the earth j too, will change, and the things also
which result from change will continue to change for
ever, and these again for ever, For if a man reflects
on the changes and transformations which follow one
another like wave after wove, and their rapidity, he will
despise every thing which is perishableJ Do you under-
stand thatr'
"Yes," Said Sheila; and it seemed to her that she
was being suffocated. Would not the grey walls burst
asunder and show her one glimpse of the blue sky be-
fore she sank into unconsciousness) The monotonous
tones of this old woman's voice sounded like the re-
petition of a psalm over a coffin. It was as if she
was already shut out from life, and could only hear
in a vague way the dismal words being chanted over
her by the people in the other world. She rose,
steadied herseif for a moment by placing her hand on
the back of the chair, and managed to say
"Mrs. Lavender, forgive me for one moment; I
wish to speak to my husband."
She went to the door Mrs. Lavender being too
surprised to follow her and made her way down-
stairs. She had seen the conservatory at the end of
a certain passage. She reached it; and then she
r
260 A PRINCESS or THULB.
scarcely knew any more, except that her hiisE
caught her in his arms as she cried
"Oh, Frank, Frank, take me away from this bousr
I am afraid: it terrifies me!"
"SheiJa, what on eaitb is the mattert Here, come
out to the fresh air. By Jove, how pale you arc!
Will you have some waterl"
He could not get to uoderstand thoroaghly what
had occurred. What he ciearly did leam from Sheila's
dtsjomted and tlmid explanations was that there had
been another "scene," and he knew that of all things
in the world his aunt hated "scenes" the worst,
soon as he saw that there was littte the matter with
Sheila beyond considerable mental perturbation, he
could not help addiessiog some little remonstrancc to
her, and reminding her how necessary it was that she
shoiild not offend the old lady upstai
"You should not be so excitable, Sheila," he said.
"You take such exaggerated notions about things.
am sure my aunt meant nothing unkJnd. And what
did you say when you came awayl"
"I Said I wanted to see you. Are you angry wilh
racl"
"No, of course not. But then, you see, it is a
little vexing just at this moment . Well, lel us
go upstairs at once, and try and make up some excusCj .
like a good girl ^say you feit faint anything
"And you will corae with me^'
"Yes. Now do try, Sheila, to make friends with
my aunt. She's not such a bad sort of creature as
you secm to think. Shc's been veiy kmd to me
hc'll be very kind to you when she knows you more."
Fortunalely no excuse was necessary; for Mrs.
Luvender, in Sheila's absence, had airived at the cob*
THK FIRST PLUNGE. 201
dusion that the girPs temporary faintness was due to
that piece of Roquefort
"You see you must be careful," she said, when
they entered the room. "You are unaccustomed to a
great many things you will like afterwards."
^'And the room is a little dose/' said Lavender.
^I don't think so/' said his aunt, sharply; "look
at the thermometer."
"I didn't mean for you and me, Aunt Lavender,"
he said, "but for her. Sheila has been accustomed
to live almost whoUy in the open air."
"The open air, in moderation, is an excellent
thing. I go out myself every aftemoon, wet or dry.
And I was going to propose, Frank, that you should
leave her here with me for the aftemoon, and come
bade and dine with us at seven. I am going out at
four thirty, and she could go with me."
"Ifs very kind of you, Aunt Lavender; but we
have promised to call on some people dose by here
at four."
Sheila looked up, frightened. The Statement was
an audacious perversion of the truth. But then, Frank
Lavender knew very well what his aunt meant by
going into the open air every aftemoon, wet or dry.
At a certain hour her brougham was brought round;
she got into it, and had both doors and Windows
hermetically sealed; and then, in a semi-somnolent
State she was driven slowly and monotonously round
the Park. How would Sheila fare if she were shut
up in this box) He told a lie with great equanimity,
and saved her.
Then Sheila was taken away to get on her things;
and her husband waited, with some littk tL^^\d^x\QiVi)
262 A PRrXCESS OF TFIVt-E.
to hear what his aunt touW say about her. He had'|_
not long to wait.
"She's got 3 bad temper, Frank."
"Oh, I don't tfilnk so, Aunt Lavender," he said,
considerably siared.
"Mark my words, she's got a bad temper, and she
is not nearly so soft as she tries to make out That
girl has a great deal of firmness, Frank."
"I find her as gentle and submissive as a girl
couid be -a little loo gentle, perhaps, and a
study Ihe wishes of olher folks."
"That is all very well vrith you. You i
master. Slie is not likely to quarrel with her bread
and butter. But you'Il see if she does not hold her
own when she gets among your friends."
"I hope she will hold her own," he said, with some
tinnecessary emphasis,
The old lady only shook her head.
"I am very sorry you shouM have taken a pre-
judice against her, Aunt," said he, presenlly.
"I take a prejudicel Don't lel me hear ihe word
again, Frank, You know I have no prejudices.
cannot give you a reason for anytliing l believe, then
I cease to believe it."
"You have not heard her sing," he said, suddenly
rcniembering that this means of conquering the old
Udy had heen neglected.
"1 have no doubt she bas many accompHshments,"
Kiiid Mrs. Lavender, coldly. "In time, I suppose, she
will gct over that extraordinary accent slie has."
"Many people like it."
"1 dare say you do, at present. But you may tire
of it, You married her in a hurry; and you have not
got rid of j'oiir romancc yeU Al the sarae time,
THE HRST PLUNGE. 263
dare say she is a very good sort of a girl, and will
not disgrace you, if you instruct her and manage her
properly. But remember my words, she has a temper,
and you will find it out if you thwart her."
How sweet and fresh the air was, even in Ken-
sington, when Sheila, having dressed and come down-
stairs, and having dutifully kissed Mrs. Lavender and
bade her good-bye, went outside with her husband.
It was like Coming back to the light of day from in-
side the imaginary coffin in which she had fancied
herseif placed. A soft west wind was blowing over
the Park, and a fairly clear sunlight shining on the
May green of the trees. And then she hung on her
husband's arm; and she had him to speak to instead
of the terrible old woman who talked about dying.
And yet she hoped she had not offended Mrs.
Lavender, for Frank's sake. What he thought about
the matter he prudently resolved to conceal.
"Do you know that you have greatly pleased my
aunt?" he said, without the least compunction. He
knew if he breathed the least hint about what had
actually been said, any possible amity between the
two women would be rendered impossible for ever.
"Have I really?" said Sheila, very much astonished,
but never thinking for a moment of doubting anything
said by her husband.
"Oh, she likes you awfully!" he said, with an in-
finite coolness.
"I am so glad!" said Sheila, with her face brighten-
ing. "I was so afraid, dear, I had offended her. She
did not look pleased with me."
By this time they had got into a hansom, and
were driving down to the South Kensington Museum,
luvender would have preferred going into tUe l?axk\
r264 A PKINCESS OF THl'LE. ^^^^H
but what if his aunt, in driving by, were to see ffifflT
He explained to Shefla the absolute necessity of his
having to teil Ihat fib about the four o'clock engage-
ment: and when she heard described the drive in ihe
closed brougham which she had escaped, perhaps she
was not so greatly inclined as she ought to have beea
to protest agaiost that piece of wickedness.
"Oh yes, she Hkes you awfully," herepeated, "and
yoTi musl get to like her, Don't be frightened by her
faarsh way of saying things; it is only a mannerism,
She is really a kind-hearted woman, and would do
anything for me, That's her best feature, looking at
her character from my point of view."
I "How often must we go to see herl" asked
Shea.
"Oh, not very often. But she will get up dinner-
parties, at which you will be introdticed to batchea
of her friends. And then the best thing you can do
is to put yourself under her instructions, and take her
advice about your dress and such matters just as you
did about your hair. That was veiy good of you."
"I am glad you were pleased with me," said
Sheila. "I will do what I can to like her. But shc
must lalk more respectfully of you."
Lavender laughed that ttle matter off as a jokcj
but it was far from being a joke to Sheila. She would
try to like that old woman yes; her duty to her hus-
biind demanded that she should. But there are some
tliings which a wife especially a girl who has been
newiy made a wife ^will never forget; which, on the
contrary, she will remeraber with buming cheeks, and
nger, and indignation.
TRANSFORMATION. 263
CHAPTER XII.
Transfonnation.
Had she, then, Lavender could not help asking
himself, a bad temper, or any other qualities or cha-
racteristics which were apparent to other people but
not to him) Was it possible that, after all, Ingram
was right; and that he had yet to leam the nature of
the girl he had married) It would be unfair to say
that he suspected something wrong about his wife
that he fancied she had managed to conceal some-
thing merely because Mrs. Lavender had said that
Sheila had a bad temper; but here was another
person who maintained that, when the days of his
romance were over, he would see the girl in another light
Nay, as he continued to ask himself, had not the
change already begun) He grew less and less ac-
customed to see in Sheila a beautiful wild sea-bird
that had fiuttered down, for a time, into a strnge
home in the South. He had not quite forgotten or
abandoned those imaginative scenes in which the
wonderful Sea-Princess was to enter crowded drawing-
rooms and have all the world standing back to regard
her and admire her, and sing her praises. But now
he was not so sure that that would be the result of
Sheila's entrance into society. As the date of a cer-
tain small dinner-party drew near, he began to wish
she was more like the women he knew. He did not *
object to her strnge sweet ways of speech, nor to
her odd likes and dislikes, nor even to an unhesitating
frankness that nearly approached rudeness sometimes
in its scom of all compromise with the truth; but
how would others regard these things? He did not
wishto gain the reputationof having married an oddity
266 A PRCfCKS OF THULE.
"Shea.'* he said, on the moming of the day on
which they were going to this dinner-party, ^'you
should not say like-a-tuss. There are only two syllables
in li'keness. It really does sound absoid to hear you
sav like-^-nessr
She looked up to him, with a quick trouble in her
eyes. When had he objected to her manner of speak-
ing beforet And tfaen she cast down her eyes again,
and said, submissively
^I will try not to speak like that AVhen you go
out, I take a book and read aloud, and try to sp^k
like you; but I cannot leam all at once."
"/ don't mind," he said, in an apologetic fashion;
and he took her band as if to show that he meant
no unkindness. ^But you know other people must
think it so odd. I wonder why you should alwa]^ say
gyarden for garden now, when it is just as easy to say
garden*'
Once upon a time he had said that there was no
English like the English spoken in Lewis, and had
singled out this very word as ty^xcdX of one pecu-
liarity in the pronunciation. But Sheila did not re-
in ind him of that She only said, in the same simple
fashion,
"If you will teil me my faults, I will try to correct
them."
She tumed away from him, to get an envelope
for a letter she had been writing to her father. He
fancied something was wrong, and perhaps some touch
of coinpunction smote him, for he went after her, and
took her band again, and said, gently,
"Look here, Sheila. When I point out any trifles
like that, you must not call them faults, and fancy I
havc uny serious complaint to make. It is for your
TRANSFORMATION. 267
own good that you should meet the people who will
be your friends on equal terms, and give them as little
as possible to talk about."
"I should not mind their talking about me," said
Shea, with her eyes still cast down; "but it is your
wife they must not talk about, and, if you will teil me
anything I do wrong, I will correct it."
"Oh, you must not think it is anything so serious
as that You will soon pick up from the ladies you
may meet some notion of how you differ from them; *
and if you should startle or puzzle them a little at first
by talking about the chances of the fishing, or the
catching of wild duck, or the way to reclaim bog-land,
you will soon get over all that."
Sheila said nothing; but she made a mental
memorandum of three things she was not to speak
about She did not know why these subjects should
be forbidden; but she was in a strnge land, and
going to see strnge people, whose habits were dif-
ferent from hers. Moreover, when her husband had
gone, she reflected that these people, having no fish-
ing, and no peat-mosses, and no wild duck, could not
possibly be interested in such affairs; and thus she
fancied she perceived the reason why she should avoid
all mention of those things.
When, in the evening, Sheila came down dressed
and ready to go out, Lavender had to admit to him-
self that he had married an exceedingly beautiful girl,
and that there was no country awkwardness about her
mann er, and no placid insipidity about her proud and
handsome face. For one brief moment he triumphed
in bis heart, and had some wild glimpse of his old
project of startling his small world with this vision
from the northern seas. But when he got iulo v^
268 A PRINCESS OF THLE.
hired brougham, and ihougliL of the people he was
about to meet, and of the manner in which ihey would
carry away such and such impressions of the girl, he
losl faith in that project. He would much cather have
had Sheila unnoticeable and unnoticed one who
would quietly take her place at the dinner-table and
attract no more special attention than the fiowers, for
exannple, which everyone would glance at with some
satisfaction and then forget in the interest of talking
* and dining. He knew that Ingram would have taken
Sheila anywhere, in her blue serge dress, and been
quite content and oblivious of Observation. But then
Ingram was independent of thoae social circles in
which a married man must niove, and in which his
Position is often defined for him by the disposition
and manners of his wife. Ingram did not koow how
women talked. It was for Sheila's own sake, he per-
suaded himself, that he was anxious about the im-
pression she should make, and that he had drilled her
in all that she should do and say.
"Above all things," he said, "mind you take no
notice of nie. Another man will take you in to dinner,
of course; and I shall take in somebody eise; and we
shal! not be near each other. But ifs after dinner, I
mean when the men go into the drawing-roora, don't
you come and speak to nie, or take any notice of me
whatever."
"Mayn't I look at you, Frank?"
"If you do, you'll have half-a-dozen people, all
watching you, saying to themselves or to each othcTf
Poor thing, she hasn't got over her infatualion yct
Isn't it pretty to see how naturaljy her eyes turn to-
wards himl'"
4
TRANSFORMATION. 2 69
^But I shoiildn't mind them saying that,^ said
Sheila, with a smile.
''Oh, you mustn't be pitied in that fashion. Let
them keep their compassion to themselves."
**Do you know, dcar," said Sheila, very quietly,
^that I think you exaggerate the interest people will
take in me. I don't think I can be of such importance
to them. I don't think they will be watching me as
you fancy."
"Oh, you don't know," he said. "I know they
fancy 1 have done something romantic, heroic, and
all that kiiid of thing, and they are curious to see
you."
"They cannot hurt me by looking at me," said
Sheila, simply. "And they will soon find out how little
there is to discover."
The house being in Holland Park, they had not
far to go; and just as they were driving up to the
door, a young man, slight, sandy-haired, and stoop-
ing got out of a hansom and crossed the pavement"
"By Jove," said Lavender, "there is Redbum.
That is Lord Arthur Redbum, Sheila: mind, if you
should talk to him, not to call him 'my lord.'"
Sheila laughed, and said
"How am I to remember all these thingsl"
They got into the house, and by and by Lavender
found himself, with Sheila on his arm, entering a
drawing-room to present her to certain of his friends.
It .was a large room, with a great deal of gilding and
colour about it, and with a conservatory at the further
end; but the blaze of light had not so bewildering an
efiect on Sheila's eyes as the appearance of two ladies
to whom she was now introduced. She had heard
much about them. She was curious to see them
270 A PKIKCESS OF 'lllULE.
Many a timc had she thought over the strnge story
Lavendcr had told her of the woman who heard that
her husband was dying in hospital durmg the war,
and Started off, herself and her datighler, to find him
out how there was in the same hospital another
dying man whom they had known some yeais before,
and who had gone away becanse this daughter would
not listen to him how this man, being very ncar to
death, begged that the girl would do him the last
favour he would ask of her, of wearing his name and
inheriting his property; and liow, some few hours after
the Strange and sad ceremony had been performed,
he breathed his last, happy in holding her band, The
father died ne day; and the two widows were
thrown upon the world, almost without friends, but
not without means. This man Loiraine had been
possessed of considerable wealth; and the girl who
had suddenly become mistress of it found herseif able
to employ all possible methods of assuaging her
mother's grief. They began lo travel. The two women
went from capital to capital, untll at last they canie
to London; and here, having gathered around them a
considerable number of friends, they proposed to take
up their residence permanently. Lavender had ofien
talked to Sheila about Mrs. Lorraine about her
shrewdness, her sharp sayings, and the odd contrast
between this clever, keen, frank woman of the world
and the woman one would have expected to be the
heroine of a pathetic tale.
But were diere two Mrs. Lorraines) Tliat had
been Sheila's lirst question to herseif when, after having
been introduced to one lady under that namc, she
suddenly saw before her another, who was introduced
to her as Mrs. Kavanagh. The mother and daughter
TRANSFORMATION. 27 1
were singularly alike. They had the same slight and
graceful figure, which made them appear taller than
they really were; the same pale, ne, and rather hand-
some features; the same large, clear, grey eyes; and
apparently the same abundant mass of soft fair hair,
heavily plaited in the latest fashion. They were both
dressed entirely in black, except that the daughter had
a band of blue round her slender waist. It was soon
apparenty too, that the manner of the two women was
singularly different; Mrs. Kavanagh bearing herseif
with a certain sad reserve that almost approached me-
lancholy at times, while her daughter, with more life
and spirit in her face, passed rapidly through all sorts
of varying moods, until one could scarcely teil whether
the aifectation lay in a certain cynical audacity in her
speech, or whether it lay in her assumption of a certain
coyness and archness, or whether there was no affecta-
tion at all in the matter. However that might be,
there could be no doubt about the sincerity of those
grey eyes of hers. There was something almost cruelly
frank in the clear look of them; and when her face
was not lit up by some passing smile, the pale and
fine features seemed to borrow something of severity
from her unflinching, calm, and dispassionate habit of
regarding those around her.
Sheila was prepared to like Mrs. Lorraine from the
first moment she had caught sight of her. The honesty
of the grey eyes attracted her. And, indeed, the
young widow seemed very much interested in the
young wife, and, so far as she could in that awkward
period just before dinner, strove to make friends with
her. Sheila was introduced to a number of people,
but none of them pleased her as well as Mrs. Lorraine.
Theo dinner was announced, and Sheila found that
272 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
she was being escorted across the passage to the ro
on the ther side by the young man whom she had
Seen get out of the hansom.
This Lord Arthur Redburn was the younger son
of a great Tory Duke; he represented in the House a
small country borough which his father practicaliy
owned; he had a fair amount of ability, an uncom-
monly high opinion of himself, and a certain affecta-
tion of being bored by the frivolous ways and talk of
ordinary society. He gave himself credit for being
the clever member of the family; and, if there was
any clevemess going, he had it; but there were some
who Said that his reputation in the House and eise-
where as a good speak.er was mainly based on the
fact that he had an abundant assurance and was
easily put out. Unfortunately the public could come
to no decision on the point, for the reporters were not
kind to Lord Arthur; and the substance of his speeches
was as unknown to the World as his manner of de-
livering them.
New Mrs. Lorraine had intended to teil this young
man something about the girl whom he was to take in
to dinnerj but she herseif had been so occapied with
Sheila that the opportunity escaped her. Lord Arthui
accordingly knew only that he was beside a very
pretty woman, who was a Mrs. Somebody the exact
narae he had not caught and that the fewwords she
had spoken were pronounced in a ctirious way. Pro-
bably, he ihought, she was from Dublin.
He also arrived at ihe conclusion that she was
too pretty to know anything about the Deceased Wife's
Sister Bill, in which he was, fot family reasons, deeply
interested; and considered it raore likely that she
would prefer to talk about theatres and such things.
TRAMSFORlfATION. 273
"Were you at Covent Garden last nightl" he said.
"No," answered Sheila. "But I was there two
days ago, and it is very pretty to see the flowers and
the fruit, and they smell so sweetly as you walk
through."
"Oh yes, it is delightful," said Lord Arthur. "But
I was speaking of the theatre."
"Is there a theatre in therel"
He stared at her, and inwardly hoped she was not
mad.
"Not in among the shops, no. But don't you know
Covent Garden Theatre 1"
"I have never been in any theatre, not yet," said
Sheila.
And then it began to dawn upon him that he must
be talking to Frank Lavender's wife. Was there not
some nimour about the girl having come from a re-
mote part of the Highlands) He determined on a
bold stroke.
"You have not been long enough in London to
see the theatres, I suppose."
And then Sheila, taking it for granted that he knew
her husband very well, and that he was quite familir
with all the circumstances of the case, began to chat
to him freely enough. He found that this Highland
girl of whom be had heard vaguely was not at all shy.
He began to feel interested. By and by he actually
made efTorts to assist her frankness by becoming
equally frank, and by telling her all he knew of the
things with which they were mutually ac(|uainted Of
course, by this time, they had got up into the Highlands.
The young man had himself been in the Highlands --
frequently, indeed. He had never crossed to I^wiS|
A Prmcns of Thnle. /. 1^
274 * PRINCESS OF THLiLE.
but he had seen the island from the Sutherlandshire
coasL There were very many deer in Sutherlandshire,
were there notl Yes, he had been out a great many
times, and had his share of adventures. Had he not
gone out before daylight, and waited on the top of a
hill, hidden by some rocks, to watch ihe misls clear
along the hiU-sides and in the Valley below^ Did not
he tremble when he fired his first shot. and had not
something passed before his eyes so that he could not
see for a moment whether the slag had fallen or was
away like lightning down the bed of the stream)
Somehow or other Lord Arthur found himself relating
all his experiences as if he were a novice begging for
the good opinion of a master. She knew all about it,
obviosly; and he wouid teil her his small adventures,
if only that she might laugh at him. But Sheila did
not laugh. She was greally delighted to have ihis talk
about the hills, and the deer, and the wet momings.
She forgot all about the dinner before her. The ser-
vants whipped off successive plates without her seeing
anything of them; ihey received random answers about
wine, so that she had three fll glasses standing by
her untouched. She was no more in Holland Park at
that moment than were the wild animals of which she
spoke so proudly and lovingly. If the great and frail
masses of flowers on the table brought her any perfume
at all, it was a scent of peat-smoke. Lord Arthur
thought that his companion was a little too frank and
confiding; or rather that she would have been, had she
been talking to anyone but himself. He rather liked
it He was pleaaed to have eslablished friendly re-
lations with a pretty woman in so short a space; but
ought not her husband to give her a hinf about nofc
admitting all and sundry to the enjoyment of these
TRANSFORMATION. 275
favours? Perhaps, too, Lord Arthur feit bound to
admit to himself there were some men who more than
others inspired confidence in women. He laid no.
Claims to being a fascinating person; but he had had
his share of success; and considered that Sheila showed
discrimination as well as good-nature in talking so to
him. There was, after all, no necessity for her hus-
band to warn her. She would know how to guard
against admitting all men to a like intimacy. In the
meantime, he was very well pleased to be sitting be-
side this pretty and agreeable companion, who had an
abundant fund of good spirits, and who showed no
sort of conscious embarrassment in thanking you with
a bright look of her eyes or by a smile when you told
her something that pleased or amused her.
But these flattering little speculations were doomed
to receive a sudden check. The juvenile M. P. began
to remark that a shade occasionally crossed the face
of his fair companion; and that she sometimes looked
a little anxiously across the table, where Mr. Lavender
and Mrs. Lorraine were seated, half-hidden from view
by a heap of silver and flowers in the middle of the
board. But though they could not easily be seen,
except at such moments as they turned to address
some neighbour, they could be distinctly enough heard,
when there was any lull in the general conversation.
And what Sheila heard did not please her. She began
to like that fair, clear-eyed young woman less. Perhaps
her husband meant nothing by the fashion in which
he talked of marriage, and the condition of a married
man; but she would rather have not heard him talk
so. Moreover, she was aware that, in the gentlest
possible fftshion, Mrs. Lorraine was making fun of her
companion, and exposing him to small and graceful
276 A PRINCESS OF THLiLE.
shafts of ridicule; while he seeraed, on Ihe whole, to
enjoy these attacks.
The ingenious self-love of Lord Arthur Redburn,
M.P., was severely wounded by the notion that, after
aU, he had been made a cat's-paw of by a jealous
wife. He had been flattered by this girl's exceeding
friendliness; he had given her credit for a genuine
impulsiven ess which seemed to him as pleasing as it
was uncommon; and he had, wilh the moderation ex-
pected of a man in poUtics, who hoped some day to
assist in the govemment of the nation by accepting a
Junior Lordship, admired her. But was it all pretencel
Was she paying court to him nierely to annoy her
husbandi Had her entliusiasm about the shooting of
red deer been prompted by a wish to attract a certain
pair of eyes at the other side of the lablel Lord
Arthur began to sneer at himself for having been
duped. He ought to have known. Women were as
much women in a Hebridean island as in Bayswater,
He began to treat Sheila with a little more coolness;
while she became more and more preoccupied with
the couple across the table, and sometimes was inno-
cently rde in answering his questions somewhat at
random.
When the ladies were going into the drawing-
rooni , Mrs, Lorraine put her hand within Sheila'a
arm, and led her to the entrance of the conservatory.
"I hope we shall be friends," she said.
"I hope so," Said Sheila, not very warmly.
"Until you get better acquainted with your hus-
band's friends, you will feel rather lonely at being lefl
as at present, I suppose."
"A little," said Sheila.
"It is a silly thing, altogether. If men smoked
1
TRANSFORMATION. 277
after dinner, I could understand it. But they merely
sit, looking at wine they don't drink, talking a few
commonplaces, and yawning."
"Why do they do it, then," said Sheila.
"They don't do it everywhere. But here we keep
to the manners and customs of the ancients."
"What do you know about the manners of the
ancients)" said Mrs. Kavanagh, tapping her daughter's
Shoulder, as she passed with a sheet of music.
"I have studied them frequently, mamma," said the
daughter with composure, "in the monkey-house at
the 2^ological Gardens."
The mamma smiled and passed on to place the
music on the piano. Sheila did not understand what
her companion had said; and, indeed, Mrs. Lorraine
immediately tumed, with the same calm, ne face, and
careless eyes, to ask Sheila whether she would not, by
and by, sing one of those northem songs of which Mr.
Lavender had told her.
A tall girl, with her back-hair tied in a knot and
her costume copied from a well-known pre-Raphaelite
drawing, sat down to the piano, and sang a mystic
song of the present day, in which the moon, the stars,
and other natural objects behaved strangely, and were
somehow mixed up with the appeal of a maiden who
demanded that her dead lover should be reclaimed
from the sea.
"Do you ever go down to your husband's studio?"
said Mrs. Lorraine.
Sheila glanced towards the lady at the piano.
"Oh, you may talk," said Mrs. Lorraine, with the
least expression of contempt in the grey eyes. "She
is singing to gratify herseif, not us."
"Yes, I sometimes go down/' said SVv^iXa., m ^s^
278 A PRIXCeSS OF THULK.
low a voice as she could manage without fall
a whisper; "and it is such a dismal pla.ce. It is veiy
hard on tiim to have to work in a big bare room Uke
that, with tbe windons half-blinded. But sometimes
I ihink Frank would rather have me out of the way."
"And what would he do, if both of us weretopaj
him a visitl" said Mn. Lonaine. "I should like to
see the studio. Won't you call for me some day and
take me with youl"
Take her with her, indeedl Sheila began to
wonder that she did not propose to go alone. For-
tunately, there was no need to answer the question;
for at this rooment the song came to an end, and
there was a general movement and murmur of grati-
tude.
"Thank you," said Mrs. Lorraine, to the lady who
had sung, and wbo was now retuming to the photo-
graphs she had left. "Thank you very much. I knew
sorae one would instantly ask you to sing that song
it i the most charming of all your songs, I think, and
how weil it suits your voice, too!"
Then she turned to Sheila again.
"How did you like Lord Arthur Redburn)"
"I think he is a very good young man,"
"Young mcn are never goodj but they may be
ainiable," said Mrs. Lorraine, not perceiving that
Sheila had btundered on a wrong adjective, and that
she iiad really meant tht she thought him honest and
pleasant.
"You did not speak at all, I think, to your neigh-
bour on the riglit; that was wise of you.
itiBufTurable person, but raamnia bears with him iot
Ihe Hake of his daugliter, who sang just now. He i'
too rieh. And hc srailes blandly, and takes a soct o
TRANSFORMATION. 279
after-dinner view of things, as if he coincided with
the arrangements of Providence. Don't you take cof-
feel Tea, then. I have met your aunt ^I mean Mr.
Lavender's aunt such a dear old lady she isl"
"I don't like her," said Sheila.
"Oh, don't you, really?"
"Not at present; but I shall try to like her."
"Well," said Mrs. Lorraine, calmly, "you knowshe
has her peculiarities. I wish she wouldn't talk so
much about Marcus Aurelius and doses of medicine.
I fancy I smell calomel when she comes near. I sup-
pose if she were in a pantomime, they'd dress her up
a3 a phial, tie a string round her neck, and label her
*PoisoN.' Dear me, how languid one gets in this cli-
mate. Let us sit down. I wish I was as strong as
mamma."
They sat down together, and Mrs. Lorraine evi-
dently expected to be petted and made much of by
her new companion. She gave herseif pretty little airs
and graces, and said no more cutting things about
anybody. And Sheila somehow found herseif being
drawn to the girl, so that she could scarcely help
taking her hand, and saying how sorry she was to see
her so pale, and fine, and delicate. The hand, too,
was so small that the tiny white fingers seemed scarcely
bigger than the claws of a bird. Was not that slender
waist, to which some little attention was called by a
belt of bold blue, just a little too slender for health,
although the bust and Shoulders were exquisitely and
finely proportionedl
"We were at the Academy all the moming, and
mamma is not a bit tired. Why has not Mr. Lavender
anything in the Academy 1 Oh, I forgot," she added
with a smile; "of course he has been very much en-
28o A FBIHCESS OF THULE.
gaged. Biit now, I suppose, he will settle down to
Sheila wished that Ihis fragil e-looking girl would
not so cominually refer to her husband; bul how was
anyone to 6nd fault with her, when she put a little
air of plainLiveness into the ordinarily cold grey eycs,
and looked at her sinaU hand, as much as to say,
"The cgers there aie very small, and even whiier
than the glove that covers them. They are the 6ngers
of a child, who ought to be petted."
Then the men came in from the dining-room,
Lavender looked round to aee where Sheila was
perhaps with a trifle of disappointtnent that she was
not the most prominent figute there, Had he expected
to find all the women surrounding her and adiniring her,
and all the men going up to pay court to hert Sheila
was seated near a small table, and Mrs, Lorraine was
showing her something. She was just like anybody
eise. If she was a wonderful Sea-Princess who had
come into a new world, no one seemed to observe her.
The only thing that distinguished her from the women
around her was her freshness of colour and the un-
usual combination of black eyelashes and dark blue
eyes. Lavender had arranged that Sheila's first appear-
ance in public should be at a very quiet little dinner-
party; but even here she failed to create any ['ofotind
Impression. She was, as he had to confesB to him-
self again, just like anybody eise.
He went over to where Mrs, Lorraine was, and sat
down beside her. Sheila, remembering his injunciions,
feit bound to leave him there; and as she rose to
speak to Mrs. Kavanagh, who was Standing by, that
lady came and begged her to sing a Highland song.
By this time, Lavender had succccded in intercsiing
TRANSFORMATION. 2 8 1
his companion about something or other; and neither
of them noticed that Sheila had gone to the piano,
attended by the young politician who had taken her
in to dinner. Nor did they intemipt their talk merely
because someone played a few bars of prelude. But
what was this that suddenly startled Lavender to the
heart, causing him to look up with surpriset He had
not heard the air since he was in Borva, and when
Sheila sang
"Hark! kork, the hom
Oh mountatH breezes bomel
Avtake, it is mom;
AvHtkef MonaltrieV*
all sorts of reminiscences came rushing in upon him.
How often had he heard that wild story of Monaltrie's
flight sung in the small Chamber over the sea, with a
sound of the waves outside, and a scent of sea-weed
Coming in at the door and the Windows! It wa$ from
the shores of Borva that yomig Monaltrie must have
fled. It must have been in Borva that his sweetheart
sat in her bower and sang, the brden of all her sing-
ing being "Retum, Monaltrie!" And then as Sheila
sang now, making the monotonous and plaintive air
wild and strnge
" What cries of wild despair
Avaake the sultry airt
Frenzied vtfith anxious care^
She seeks Monaltr 1 "
he heard no more of the song. He was thinking of
bygone days in Borva, and of old Mackenzie living
in his lonely house there. When Sheila had nished
singing, he looked at her, and it seemed to him that
she was still that wonderful Princess whom he had
wooed on the shores of the Atlantic. And if those
people did not see her as he saw her, ought he to be
disappointed because of their blindnessY
202 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
But if they saw nothing mystic or wonderful about
Sheila, ihey at all events were considerably surprised
by the strnge sort of m^sic she sang. It was not of
a sort commonly heard in a London drawing-room-
The palhos of its minor chords, its abrupt intervals,
startling and wild in their effect, and the slowly sub-
aiding wail in which it closed, did not much resem-
ble the ordinary drawing-room "piece." Here, at leasE,
Sheila had produced an Impression; and presently
there was a heap of people round the piano, expressing
their admiration, asking questions, and begging her to
continue. But she rose. She would rather not sing
just then. Whereupon Lavender came out to her, and
Said
"Sheila, won't you sing that wild one about ihe
farewell that has the aound of the pipes in it, you
know^"
"Oh, yes," she said, directly.
Lavender went back to his coropanion,
"She is very obedient to you," said Mrs. Lorraine,
with a smile.
"She is a very good girl," he said.
"OKI Kflht a^ ibnxbcrs, ly Tigh-na^lmncttmlm:
Tky laU-iiiaJu im nng br Maci/larmid's/ai' danghUrt;
Bttt/ar tff Loehaitr ike b-us heart ifar meffiing
Wfvn* haptirt tntsmbid irt lkesrt"M*''fi^rt tM*v'rC sitefine"
SO Sheila sang; and it seemed to the people that
this ballad was evea more strnge than its predecessor.
When the song was over, Sheila seemed rather anuous
to get out of the crowd, and indeed, walked away into
the conservatory to have a look at the flowers.
Yes, Lavender had to confess to himself, Sheila
was just like anybody eise in this drawing-room. His
Sea-Princess had prodjced no startling irapression.
He forgot that he had just been teaching her the ne-
TRANSFORMATION. 283
cessity of observing the ways and customs of the
people around her, so that she might avoid singularity.
On one point, at least, she was resolved she would
attend to his counsels she would not make him
ridiculous by any show of aflfection before the eyes of
strangers. She did not go near him the whole even-
ing. She remained for the most part in that half-
conservatory, half ante-room at the end of the drawing-
room; and when anyone talked to her she answered,
and when she was left alone she tumed to the flowers.
All this time, however, she could observe that Laven-
der and Mrs. Lorraine were very much engrossed in
their conversation; that she seemed very much amused,
and he at times a trifle embarrassed; and that both of
them had apparently forgotten her existence. Mrs.
Kavanagh was continually Coming to Sheila, and trying
to coax her back into the larger room; but in vain.
She would rather not sing any more that night. She
liked to look at flowers. She was not tired at all;
and she had already seen those wonderful photographs
about which everybody was talking.
"Well, Sheila, how did you enjoy yourselfl" said
her husband, as they were driving home.
"I wish Mr. Ingram had been there," said Sheila.
"Ingram! he would not have stopped in the place
ve minutes, unless he could play the part of Diogenes,
and say rde things to everybody all round. Were
you at all dulll"
"A little."
"Didn't somebody look after you?"
"Oh yes, many persons were very kind. But
but "
Welir'
*Nobody seemed to be better off than myself
284 A FJUNCESS OF THULE.
They all seemed to be wanting somelhing to do; and
I am sure they were all very glad to come away."
"No, no, no, Sheila. Tliat is only your fancy.
You were not much interested, that is evident; bat
you will get oq better when you know more of the
people. You were a stranger that is what disap-
pointed you; but you will not always be a stranger."
Sheila did not answer. Perhaps she contemplated
with no great bope or longing the possibility of her
Coming to like such a method of getting through an
evening. At all events, she looked forward with no
great pleasure to the chance of her having to become
friends with Mrs. Lorraine. All the way home, Sheila
was examining her own heart, to try to discover why
such bitter feelings should be there. Surely that
American girl was honest: there was honesty in her
grey eyes. She had been most kind to Sheila herseif.
And was there not at times when she abandoned the
ways and Speech of a woman of the world a singular
coy fascination about her, that any man might bc
excused for yielding to, even as any woman might
yield to it) Sheila fought wilh herseif; and resolved
that she would cast forth from her heart those harsh
fancies and indignant feelings that seeraed to have
established themselves there, She would not hate Mrs,
Lorraine.
As for Lavender, what was he thinking of, now
that he and his young wife were driving home from
their first experiment in society) He had to confess
to a certain sense of failure. His dreams had not
been realized. Everyone who had spoken to him had
conveyed to him, as freely as good manners would
admit, their congratulations, and their praises of his
wife, But the impressivc scenes he had been forecast-
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 285
ing were out of the question. There was a littie
curiosity about her, on the part of those who knew
her Story; and that was all. Sheila bore herseif very
well. She made no blunders. She had a good pre-
sence; she sang well; and everyone could see that she
was handsome, gentle, and honest. Surely, he argued
with himself, that ought to content the most exacting.
But, in spite of all argument, he was not quite satis-
fied. He did not regret that he had sacrificed his
liberty in a freak of romance; he did not even regard
the fact of a man in his position having dared to
many a penness girl as anything very meritorious or
heroic; but he had hoped that the dramatic circum-
stances of the case would be duly recognized by his
friends, and that Sheila would be an object of interest,
and wonder, and talk in an whole series of social
circles. The result of his adventure, he now saw, was
difierent There was only one married man the more
in London: and London was not disposed to pay any
particular heed to the circumstance.
CHAPTER XIIL
By the Waters of Babylon.
If Frank Lavender had been told that his love for
his wife was in danger of waning, he would have
laughed the Suggestion to scom. He was as fond of
her and as proud of her as ever. Who knew as well
as himself the tendemess of her heart, the proud
sensitiveness of her conscience, the generosity of self-
sacrifice she was always ready to bestow; and was he
likely to become blind, so that he should fail to see
how fair, and fiearless, and handsome she was) Nothing
was too good for her. He was recklessly extravagant
r
286 A PRINCESS OF THLE.
in buying licr jewellery, dresses, and what not; and
she was abundantly graleful. Nor had he relinquished
those wild dreams of future renown which was t
consecrated all to her. He would make the name and
tlie fame of Sheila known to all the world, not for bis
own sake, but that she might be pleased. He bad
been disappointed, it is true, in bis fancies about the
Impression she would produce on his friends; but what
3 trifle was thati The folly of those fancies was his
own. For the rest, he was glad that Sheila was not
so different from the other women whom he knew^
He hit upon the profoiind reflection, as he sat alona
in his studio, that a man's wife, like his coslume,
should not be so remarkable as to attract attention.
The perfection of dress was that you shoiild be un-t
conscious of its presence: might that not be so wilh
mairiagel After all, it was better that he had not
bound himself to lug about a lion whenever he vJsitett
people's houses.
Still, there was something. He found himself
good deal alone. Sheila did not scem to care mucli
for going into society; and allhoiigh he did not greatly
like the notion of going by himself. nevertheless one
had certain duties towards one's friends to perfonn.
She did not even care to go down to the Parle of a fore-
noon. She always professed her readiness tO go; but
he fancied it was a trifle tiresome for her; and sg,
when Ihere was nothing particular going on in thft
studio, he would walk down tlirough Kensington Gar-
dens himself, and have a chat with some friead^
followed generally by luncheon with this or the other
party of them. Sheila had been taught that she ought
not to corae so frequently to that studio. Bras woli4
not lie qiiiet. Moieover, \i deaXas at other stratiger.
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. ^Sj
should come in, would they not take her for a model?
So Sheila stayed at home; and Mr. Lavender, after
having dressed with care in the moming with very
Singular care, indeed, considering that he was going
to his work used to go down to his studio to smoke
a cigarette. The chances were that he was not in a
humour for working. Those dreams of a great renown
which he was to win for Sheila's sake were too vast, re-
mote, and impalpable to be fastened down to any Square
bit of canvas. He would sit down in an easy-chair,
and kick his heels on the floor for a time, watching
perhaps the sunlight come in through the Upper part
of the Windows and paint yellow Squares on the op-
posite wall. Then he would go out and lock the door
behind him; leaving no message whatever for those
crowds of importunate dealers who, as Sheila fancied,
were besieging him with offers in one hand and purses
of gold in the other.
One moming, after she had been in-doors for two
er three days, and had grown hopelessly tired of the
monotony of watching that sunlit square, she was
filled with an unconquerable longing to go away, for
however brief a space, from the sight of houses. The
moming was sweet, and clear, and bright; white
clouds were slowly crossing a fair blue sky; and a
fresh and cool breeze was blowing in at the open
French Windows.
"Bras," she said, going down stairs, and outinto the
small garden, "we are going into the country."
The great deerhound seemed to knowj and rose
and came to her with great gravity, while she clasped
on the leash. He was no frisky animal to show his
delight by yelping and gambolling; but he lavd \s
long nose in her Aand, and slowly wag^^d x!tv^ ^owt^
288 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
drooping carve of his shaggy tail; and then he placidly
walked by her side up into ihe hall, where he siood
awaiting her.
She would go along and beg of her husband lo
leave his work for a day, and go with her for a walk
down to Richmond Park. She had often heard Mr,
Ingram speak of Walking down; and sJie remembered
that much of the road was pretty. Why should not
her husband have one holidayl
"It is such a shame," she had said to him that
morning, as he left, "that you will be going into that
glooiny place, with its bare walls and chairs, and the
Windows so that you cannot see out of them."
"I must get some work done somehow, Sheila," he
said; although he did not teil her that he had not
finished a picture since his raarriage.
"I wish I could do some of it for you," she said.
"Vou! All the work you're good for is catching
fish, and feeding ducks, and hauling up sails. Why
don't you come down and feed the ducks in the Ser-
pentine?"
"T should like to do that," she answered. "I will
go any day wii you."
"Well," he said, "you see, I don't know unlil I get
along to the studio whether I can get away for the
forenoon; and then, if I were to come back here,
you would have lite or no time to dress. Good-bye^
Sheila."
"Good-bye," she had said to him, giving up tha
Serpentine without much regtet.
But the forenoon had tumed out so delightful that
she thought she would go along to the studio, and
hale him out of that gaunt and dlogy aparlroent Shfl
should take him away from town; therefore she might
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 289
put on that rough blue dress in which she used to go
boating in Loch Roag. She had lately smartened it
up a bit with some white braid; and she hoped he
would approve.
Did the big hound know the dress? He rubbed
his head against her arm and hand when she came
down; and looked up, and whined almost inaudibly.
" You are going out, Bras; and you must be a good
dog, and not try to go after the deer. Then I will
send a very good story of you to Mairi; and when she
comes to London, after the harvest is over, she will
bring you a present from the Lewis, and you will be
very proud."
She went out into the square, and was perhaps a
little glad to get away from it, as she was not sure of
the blue dress and the small hat with its sea-guU's
feather being precisely the costume she ought to
wear. When she got into the Uxbridge Road, she
breathed more freely; and in the lightness of her
heart she continued her conversation with Bras, giving
that attentive animal a vast amount of information,
partly in English, partly in Gaelic, which he only
answered by a low whine or a shake of his shaggy head.
But these confidences were suddenly interrupted.
She had got down to Addison Terrace, and was con-
tentedly looking at the trees and chatting to the dog,
when by accident her eye happened to light on a
brougham that was driving past. In it she beheld
them both clearly for a brief second were her hus-
band and Mrs. Lorraine, engaged in conversation, so
that neither of them saw her. Sheila stood on the
pavement for a couple of minutes, absolutely be-
wildered. All sorts of wild fancies and recollections
A PHncest of Thule. /. I9
290 A PRISCESS OK THLB.
came crowding in upon her reasons why her
band was unwilling iat she should visit his studio
why Mrs. Lorraine never called on her^and so forth,
and so forth. She did not know what to thinV for a
time; but preseny all this tumuit was stUled, and she
had bravely resolved her doubts and raade np her
mind as to what she should do. She could oot sus-
pect her husband that was ihe one sweec security to
which she clung. He had made use of no dupaly;
if there was anything wrong and perhaps she com-
mitted a great injvisEice in even imagining such a pos-
sibility he, at least, was certainly not in fault And
if this Mrs. Lorraine should amuse him and interest
htm, who could grudge htm this break in the mono-
tony of his workl Sheiia knew ihat she herseif dis-
liked going to those fashionable gatherings to which
Mrs. Lorraine went, ard to which Lavender had been
accustomed to go before he was married. How could
she expect him to give up all his cid habits and ptea-
sures for her sakel She would be more reasonable
and more generous. It was her own fault that she
was not a better companion for him; and was it for
her, then, to think hardly of him because he went 10
the Park with a friend instead of going alone!
Yet there was a great bittemess and grief in her
heart as she tumed and walked on. She spoke no
more to the deerhound by her side. There seemed lo
be less sunliglit in the air; and the people and car-
riages passing were hardly so busy and cheerful and
inleresting as they had been. But all the same, she
would go to Richmond Park, and by herseif: for what
was the use of calling in at the studio; and how could
she go back home and sit in the house, knowing that
lier husband was away at some flower-show, or moin-
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 29 1
ihg concert, or some such thing, with that young
American lady?
She Jcnew no other road to Richmond than that
by which they had driven shortly after her arrival in
London; and so it was that she went down and over
Hammersmith Bridge, and round by Mortlake, and so
on by East Sheen. The road seemed terribly long.
She was an excellent walker, and, in ordinary circum-
stances, would have done the distance without fatigue;
but when at length she saw the gates of the Park be-
fore her, she was at once exceedingly tired, and al-
most faint from hunger. Here was the hotel in which
they had dined; should she enter? The place seemed
very grand and forbidding: she had scarcely even
looked at it as she went up the steps with her hus-
band by her side. However, she would venture; and
accordingly she went up and into the vestibule, look-
ing rather timidly about. A young gentleman, ap-
parently not a waiter, approached her, and seemed to
wait for her to speak. It was a terrible moment.
What was she to ask for, and could she ask it of this
young man? Fortunately he spoke first, and asked
her if she wished to go into the coflfee-room, and if
she expected anyone.
**No, I do not expect anyone," she said, and she
knew that he would perceive the peculiarity of her ac-
cent; "but if you will be kind enough to teil me where
I may have a biscuit "
It occurred to her that to go into the Star and
Carter for a biscuit was absurd; and she added, wildly
" or anything to eat."
The young man obviously regarded her with some
surprise: but he was very courteous, and showed her
into the coffee-room, and called a waiter to her.
19-
292 A PBINCESS OF THULE.
Moreover, he gave permission for Bras to be admttted
into the room, Slieila promising that he would !ie
under the table and not budge an inch. Then she
looked round. There were only three persona in the
room; one an old lady seated by herseif in a far
Corner, the other two being a couple of young folks
too much engrossed with each other to mind anyone
eise. She began to feel more at home. The waiter
suggested various things for lunchj and she made her
choice of somelhing cold. Then she mustered up
courage to ask for a glass of sherry. How she would
have enjoyed all this as a story to teil to her husband
but for that incident of the momingl She would have
gloried in her outward bravery; and made him sraile
with a description of her inward terror. She would
have written about it to the oM King of Borva, and
bid him consider how she had been transformed, and
what Strange scenes Bras was now witnessing, But all
that was over. She feit as if she could no longer ask
her husband to be amused by her childish experiences;
and as for writing to her father, she dared not wrile
to him in her present mood. Perhaps some happier
time would come. Sheila paid her bill. She had
heard her husband and Mr. Ingram talk about tipping
*aiters, and knew that she ought to give soraething 10
the man who had attended on her. But how mucht
He was a very august-looking person, with formaJly-
cut whiskers, and a severe expression of face. When
he had brought back the change lo her she timidly
selected a half-crown, and offered it to him. There
was a little glance of surprise; she feared she had not
given him enough. Then he said "Thank you!" in a
vagiie and distant fashion, and she was sure she had
not ^iven him enough. But it was too late. Bras
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 293
summoned fi^om beneath the table; and again she went
out into the fresh air.
"Oh, my good dog!" she said to him, as they to-
gether walked up to the gates and into the Park, "this
is a very extravagant country. You have to pay half-
a-crown to a servant for bringing you a piece of cold
pie, and then he looks as if he was not paid enough.
And Duncan, who will do everything about the house,
and will give us all our dinners, it is only a pound a
week he will get, and Scarlett has to be kept out of that.
And wouldn't you like to see poor old Scarlett again 1"
Bras whined as if he understood every word.
**I suppose now she is hanging out the washing
on the gooseberry bushes, and you know the song she
always used to sing thenl Don't you know that
Scarlett carried me about, long before you were bom,
for you are a mere infant compared with me, and she
used to sing to me
'Getf bkeirie tnV bhSn bhas so,
Mho Sheila bheag d^ l '
And that is what she is singing just now; and Mairi
she is bringing the things out of the washing-house.
Papa he is over in Stomoway this moming, arranging
his accounts with the people there, and perhaps he is
down at the quay, looking at the Clansmany and
wondering when she is to bring me into the harbour.
Ah h! You bad dog."
Bras had forgotten to listen to his mistress in the
excitement of seeing in the distance a large herd of
deer under certain trees. She feit by the leash that
he was trembling in every limb with expectation, and
straining hard on the coUar. Again and again she
admonished him in vain; until she had at last to
drag him away down the hill, putting a small plantallo^v
294 A PRINCESS OF THULK.
bctween liim and the herd. Here she found a large,
umbrageous chestnut-tree, wjth a wooden seat round
ita tmnlc, and so she sat down in the green twilight
of the leaves, while Bras came and put his head in
her lap, Oul beyond the shadow of the tree all the
World lay bathed in sunlight; and a great silence
brooded over the long undulations of the Park, where
not a human being was in sight. How strnge it was,
she feil to thinking, that within a short distance there
were millions of men and women, while here she was
absolutely alone. Did they not care, then, for the
sunlight, and the trees, and the sweet air) Were they
so wrapped up in those social observances that seemed
to her so barren of interestl
"They have a beautiful country here," she said,
talking in a rambling a.nd wistful way to Bras, and
scarcely noticing the eager light in his eyes, as if he
were trying to understand. "They have no rain, and
no fog; almost always blue skies, and the clouds high
up and far away, And the beautifu! trees they liave
Coo you never saw anything like that in the Lewis
not even al Stomoway. And the peoplc are so rieh, and
beautiful in their dress, and all the day they have only
to ihink how to enjoy themselves, and what new amuse-
ment is for the morrow. But I think they are tired
of having nothing to do or perhaps, you know, they
are tired because they have nothing to fight against
no hard weather, and hunger, and poverty, They
do not care for each other as they would if they were
working on the same farm, and trying to save up for
the winter; or if they were going out to the fishing,
and very glad to come home again from Caithness to
find all the old peoplc very well, and the young onea
ready for a dance, and a dram, and much joking and
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 295
laughing and telling of stories. It is a very great
diflference there will be in the people very great"
She rose, and looked wistfuUy around her, and
then tumed with a sigh to make her way to the gates.
It was with no especial sort of gladness that she
thought of retuming home. Here, in the great stillness,
she had been able to dream of the far island which
she knew, and to fancy herseif for a few minutes
there; now she was going back to the dreary monotony
of her life in that square, and to the doubts and
anxieties which had been suggested to her in the
moming. The world she was about to enter once
more seemed so much less homely, so much less fll
of interest and purpose, than that other and distant
World she had been wistfuUy regarding for a time.
The people around her had neither the joys nor the
sorrows with which she had been taught to sympathise.
Their cares seemed to her to be exaggerations of
trifles; she could feel no pity for them, their satisfaction
was derived from sources unintelligible to her. And
the social atmosphere around her seemed still, and
close, and suffocating; so that she was like to cry out
at times for one breath of God's clear wind for a
shaft of lightning even to cut through the sultry and
drowsy sameness of her life.
She had almost forgotten the dog by her side.
While sitting under the chestnut she had carelessly
and loosely wound the leash round his neck, in the
semblance of a collar; and when she rose and came
away, she let the dog walk by her side without
undoing the leash and taking proper Charge of him.
She was thinking of far other things, indeed, when
she was startled by some one calling her
"Look out, Miss, or you'll have your dog shot!"
t turned , an czugte x ff^fe
a thritl of tenot to bei hean. bs kad soeaked off
from hci &ide bad tnionl l^Wr oicr ibe breckans,
and was now in TuQ cbiae of a faoi) of deer which
were ying down ie slope on the ther side of tbe
Iilaniation. Hc rushed now at ooc, now ai aaoEher;
iltc very number of chances picscnied to him proving
ihc safeiy of ihe wholc herd. Bot as SheOa, with a
swift flight that would ha?e astcmkhed mosi town-bred
girls, followed ihe wild diase and came to tfae crcst
of thc slope, she could see ihat the boimd had at
Icnglh singlcd out a particular deer a fine bck wiih
hnndsonie horns. that was makbg siraight for the foot
of thc Valley, The herd, ihai had been much scatlered,
wcrc now dcawing together again, though checking
nothing of ihcir speed; but this single bck had becn
ilrivcn from bis companions, and was doing bis utmost
io cBcape from the fangs of ihe powerful aniraal
bqhind him.
What could shc do but nin wildly and breathleraly
Olli Thc dog was now far beyond the reach of her
Viiico. She had no whistle. All sorts of fearful
lUleipationa nished in on her mind^the raost pro-
llllnvnt of all being the anger of her falher if Bras
WBM lit. How could she go back to Borva with
uli n Iftlc; and how could she live in London with-
111 lliU companion who had corne with her from thc
tu nunht Then what terrtble ihings were connected
wllh the killing of deer in a Royal ParkJ She re-
mambcrcd viigiicly what Mr. Ingram and her husband
hd boon naying; and while these things were crowding
m upon her, shc feit her strength beginning to fail.
whilc both thc dog and the deer had disappeared
altogether from sight.
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 297
Strange, too, that in the midst of her fatigue and
fright, while she still managed to struggle on, with a
Sharp pain at her heart and a sort of mist before her
eyes, she had a vague consciousness that her husband
would be vexed, not by the conduct or the fate of
Bras, but by her being the heroine of so mad an
adventure. She knew that he wished her to be
serious, and subdued, and proper, like the ladies
whom she met; while an evil destiny seemed to dog
her footsteps and precipitate her into all sorts of
erratic mishaps and "scenes." However, this adventure
was likely soon to have an end.
She could go no further. Whatever had become
of Bras, it was in vain for her to think. of pursuing
him. When she at length reached a broad and smooth
road leading through the pasture, she could only
stand still and press her two hands over her heart,
while her head seemed giddy, and she did not see
two men who had been Standing on the road close
by until they came up and addressed her.
Then she started, and looked round; Unding
before her two men who were apparently labourers of
some sort, one of them having a shovel over his Shoulder.
"Beg your pardon, Miss, but wur that your dawg?"
"Yes," she said, eagerly. "Could you get itl Did
you see him go by? Do you know where he is?"
"Me and my mate saw him go by, sure enough;
but as for getting him why, the keepers '11 have shot
him by this time."
"Oh nol" cried Sheila, almost in tears, "they
must not shoot him. It was my fault I will pay
them for all the hrm he has done. Can't you teil
me which way he will go past?"
"I don't think, Miss," said the spokesman, quite
Sga A PRINCESS OF TIIULE.
respectfuUy, "as you can go much furder, If you
would sit down, and rest youTself, and keep an eye
on this 'ere shovel, me and my mate will have a hunt
arter the dawg."
Sheila not only accepted the offei gratefully, but
promised to give them all the money she had if only
ihey would bring back the dog unharmed. Then the
men wcnt their way.
It was a hard thing to wait here, in the greatesl
doubt and uncertainty, while the aftemoon was visibly
waning. She began to grow afraid. Pethaps the men
had Stolen the dog, and left her with this shovel as a
blind. Her husband must have come home; and
would be astonished and perplexed by her absence-
Surely he wouid have the sense to dine by himself,
instead of waiting for her; and she reflected with
sorae glimpse of satisfaction, that she had left every-
thing connected with dinner properly arranged, so that
he should have nothing to grumble at.
Her reverie was intetrupted by the sound of fool-
steps on the grass behind: and she tumed quickly, to
find the two men approaching her, one of them lead-
ing the captive Bras by the leash. Sheila sprang
to her feet with a great gladness. She did not care
even to accQse the culprit, whose consciousness of
guilt was evident in his look and in the droop of his
tail. Bras did not once tum his eyes to his mistress.
He hung down his head, while he panted rapidly,
and she fancied she saw some smearing of blood on
his tongue and on the side of bis jaw. Her fears on
this head were speedily confirraed.
"I think, Miss, as you'd better take him out rf the
Park as soon as maybee; for he's got a deer Idlled
close by the Robin Hood Gate, in the trees there, and
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 299
if the keepers happen on it afore you leave the Park,
you'U get into trouble."
"Oh, thank you," said Sheila, retaining her com-
posure bravely, but with a terrible sinking of the
heart; "and how can I get to the nearest railway sta-
tionl"
"You're going to London, Miss?"
"Yes."
"Well, I suppose the nearest is Richmond; but it
would be quieter for you, don*t you see, Miss, if you
was to go along to the Roehampton Gate and go to
Bames."
"Will you show me the gatel" said Sheila, choos-
ing the quieter route at once.
But the men themselves did not at all like the
look of accompanying her and this dog through the
Park. Had they not already condoned a felony, or
done something equally dreadful, in handing to her a
dog that had been found keeping watch and ward over
a slain bucki They showed her the road to the
Roehampton Gate; and then they paused before con-
tinuing on their joumey.
The pause meant money. Sheila took out her
purse. There were three sovereigns and some silver
in it; and the entire sum, in fulfilment of her promise,
she held out to him who had so far conducted the
negotiations.
Both men looked frigbtened. It was quite clear
that either good feeling or some indefinite fear of
being implicated in the killing of the deer caused
them to regard this big bribe as something they could
not meddle with; and at length, after a pause of a second
or two, the spokesman said, with great hesitation
"Well, Miss, youVe kep' your word; but me and my
300 A l'KINCESS OF THULE.
male well, if so be as it's the same to you, 'd rather
have summut to drink your health "
"Do you think ii is too much)"
The man looked at bis neighbour, who nodded.
"It was only for betchin' of a dawg, Miss, don't
you seel" he remarked, slowly, as if to impress upon
her that they had nothing whatever to do with the deer.
"Will you lake this, ihenJ" and she offered them
half-a-crown each.
Their faces lightened considerably; they took ihe
Tooney; and, with a formal ex]ression of thanks,
moved off but not before they had taken a glance
round to see that oo one had been a witness of this
interview.
And so Sheila had to walk away by herseif, knov-
ing that she had been guilty of a dreadful offcnce,
and that at any moment she night be aireted by the
ofcers of the law. What would Ihe old King of
Borva say if he saw bis only daughter in the hands of
two policemen; and would not all Mr. Lavender's
fastidious and talkative and wondering friends pass
about the newspaper report of her trial and convic-
tionl A man was apptoaching her. As he drew near
her heart failed her; for might not this be the mys-
terious George Ranger himself, about whom her hus-
band and Mr. Ingram had been lalkingJ Should she
drop ou her knees at once, and confess her sins, and
heg him to let her off] If Duncan were with her, or
Mairi, or even old Scarlett Macdonald, she would not
hnvc cared so rauch: but it seemed so tenible to mecc
tili man alone.
Howcver, as he drew near he did not seem a fieice
pcrson. Ile was an old genlleman, with voluminous
white hair, who was dressed all in black, and cartied
Y TfiE WAtEkS Ot BABYLON. 3OI
an umbrella on this warm and bright aftemoon. He
regarded her and the dog in a distant and contem-
plative fashion, as though he would probably try to
remember them some time after he had really seen
them; and then he passed on. Sheila began to breathe
more freely. Moreover, here was the gate; and once
she was in the high road, who could say an3rthing to
herl Tired as she was, she still walked rapidly on;
and in due time, having had to ask the way once or
twice, she found herseif at Barnes Station.
By and by the train came in; Bras was committed
to the care of the guard; and she found herseif alone
in a railway carriage, for the first time in her life. Her
husband had told her that whenever she feit uncertain
of her whereabouts, if in the country, she was to ask
for the nearest Station and get a train to London; if
in town, she was to get into a cab and give the driYer
her address. And, indeed, Sheila had been so much
agitated and perplexed during this aftemoon, that she
acted in a sort of mechanical fashion, and really
escaped the nervousness which otherwise would have
attended the novel experience of purchasing a ticket
and of arranging about the carriage of a dog in the
break-van. Even now, when she found herseif travel-
ling alone, and shortly to arrive at a part of London
she had never seen, her crowding thoughts and
fancies were not about her own Situation, but about
the reception she should receive from her husband.
Would he be vexed with her? Or pity her? Had he
called, with Mrs. Lorraine, to take her somewhere, and
found her gone? Had he brought home some
bachelor friends to dinner, and been chagrined to find
her not in the house?
It was getting dusk when the slow four-wheeler
302 A FKIh'CESS OF THULE.
approached Sheila's faome. The hour for dinner had
Jong gone by. Perhaps her husband had gone away
soraewhere looking for her, and she would find die
house empty.
Bat Frank Lavender came to meet his wife in die
hall, and said
"VVhere have you been)"
She could not teil whether there was anger or
kindness in his voice; and she coald not well see his
face. She took his hand, and weot into the dining-
room, which was also in dusk, and, standing thae,
tld him all her story.
"By Jove!" he said, impatiently. "I'il go and
thrash that dog within an inch of its life."
"No," she said, drawing herseif up; and for ooe
brief second could he but have seen her face there
was a touch of old Mackenzie's pride and finnness
about the ordinarily gentle lips. It was but for a
second. She cast down her eyes, and said, tneekly, "I
hope you won't do that, Frank. The dog is not to
blame. It was my fault"
"Well, really, Sheila," he said, "don't you think
you are a Utile thoughtlessl I wish you would try to
act as oiher women act, instead of constany putting
yourself and nie into the most awkward positions. Sup-
pose I had brought anyone home to dinner, nowl
And wliat am I to say to Ingram) fot of course I
went direct to his lodgings when I discovered you
were nowliere to be found. I fancied some mad freak
had taken you there; and I should not have been sur-
prised. Do you know who was in the hall when I
cBtne in this afternooni"
"No," said Sheila.
"Why, that wretched old hag who keeps the fruit-
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 303.
stall. And it seems you gave her and all her family
tea and cake in the kitchen last night/'
It was certainly not the expense of these charities
that he objected to. He was himself recklessly gene-
rous in such things. He would have given a sovereign
where Sheila gave a Shilling; but that was a different
matter from having his wife almost associate with
such people.
"She is a poor old woman," said Sheila, humbly.
"A poor old woman!" he said, "I have no doubt
she is a lying old thief, who would take an umbrella
or a coat if only she could get the chance. It is
really too bad, Sheila, your having all those persons
about me, and demeaning yourself by attending on
them. What must the servants think of you!"
"I do not heed what any servants think of me,"
she said.
She was now standing erect, with her face quite calm.
"Apparently not!" he said, "or you would not go
and make yourself ridiculous before them."
Sheila hesitated for a moment, as if she did not
understand; and then she said, as calmly as before,
but with a touch of indignation about the proud and
beautiful Ups
**And if I make myself ridiculous by attending to
poor people, it is not my husband who should teil me so."
She tumed and walked out, and he was too surprised
to foUow her. She went upstairs to her own room, locked
herseif in, and threw herseif on the bed. And then all
the bittemess of her heart rose up as if in a flood not
against him, but against the coimtry in which he lived,
and the society which had contaminated him, and the
ways and habits that seemed to create a baiivet V^^~
tween herseif and him, so that she wasalrcvo^t^-^Xx^Xi^^x
304 A pRDfCESs or thtle.
lo him, and incapable of becoming anything eise. R
was a fault that she should interest herseif in tbe nn-
fortunate creatures round a.bout her; that she should
talfc to ihem as if they were human beings like her-
seif, and have a great sympalhy with their small hopes
and aims: but she would not have been led into such
a fault if she had cultivated from her infancy upwatdi
a consistent self-indulgence, makiog herseif the centie
of a World of mean desires and petty gratifications.
And tben she thought of the cid and beautiful dsfS
up in the Lewis, where the young English strng
seemed to apptove of her simple ways and her chari-
lable work; and where she was taught to beliere that,
in Order to please him, she had only to continue tobe
what she was theo. There was no great gulf of time
between that period and this; but what had not hap-
pened in the interval! She had not changed at least
she hoped she had not changed. She loved h hus-
band with her whole heart and soul; her devotion was
as true and constant as she berself could have wished
it to be when she drearaed of the duties of a wife in
the days of her maidenhood. But all around her
changed. She had no longer ihe old freedom theold
deltght in living from day to day the active work,
and the enjoymenl of seeing where she could help,and
how she could heip, the people around her. When, aS
if by the same sort of inslinct that makes a wild
animal retain in captivity the habits which were nece^
sary to its existence when it lived in freedom,
began to find out the circumstances of such unfortunaie
people as were in her neighbourhood, some little solacc
was given to her; but these people were not friendsto
her, as the poor folk of Borvabost had been. SbC
knew, too, that her husband would be displeased ifhs
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 305
found her talking with a washerwoman over the poor
creature's family matters, or even advising one of her
own servants about the disposal of her wages; so that,
while she concealed nothing from him, these things
nevertheless had to be done exclusively in his absence.
And was she, in so doing, really making herseif
ridiculousl Did he consider her ridiculousl Or was
it not merely the fatal influences of the indolent
Society in which he lived that had poisoned his mind, and
drawn him away from her as though into another worldl
Alas! if he were in that other world, was not she
quite alone) What companionship was there possible
between her and the people in this new and strnge
land into which she had venturedl As she lay on the
bed, with her head hidden down in the darkness, the
pathetic wail of the captive Jews seemed to come and
go through the bitterness of her thoughts, like some
moumful refrain: ^^By the rivers of Babylon^ there we
sat down, yey we wepi, when we rememhered ZionP She
almost heard the words; and the reply that rose up to
her heart was a great yearning to go back to her own
land, so that her eyes were filled with tears, in think-
ing of it, and she lay and sobbed there, in the dusk.
Would not the old man, living all by himself in that
lonely island, be glad to see his little girl back again
in the old house? and she would sing to him as she
used to sing, not as she had been singing to those
people whom her husband knew. ^^For there they that
carried us away captive required of us a song; and they
that wasted us required of us mirih, saying. Sing us
one of the songs of ZionP And she had sung in the
Strange land, among the strnge people, with her heart
breaking with thoughts of the sea, and the hills, and
A Princess 0/ ThuU. J. 20
J06 A PRINCESS OF TirULE.
the rde and sweet and simple ways of the old bygone
lifc she had left behind her.
"Sheilal"
She tbought it was her father calling to her, and
she rose with a cry of joy. For one wild moment she
fancied that outside were all ihe people she knew
Doncan, and Scarlett, and Mairi and that she was
once more at home, with the sea all around her, and
the Salt, cold air.
"Sheila, I want to speak to you."
It was her husband. She went to the door, opened
it, and stood ihere, penitent and with downcast face.
"Come, you must not be silly," he said, with some
kindness in his voice. "You have had no dinner.
You must be hungry."
"I do not care for any there is no use troub-
ling the servants when I would rather Ke down," she said.
"The servants! You surejy don't take so seriously
what I said about ihera, Sheila) Of course, you doa't
need to care what the servants think. And in any case
they have to bring up dinner for me, so you may as
well come and try."
"Have you not had dinnerl" she said, timidly,
"Do you think I could sit doivn and eat with a
notion that you might have tumbled into the Thames
or been kidnapped, or somethingJ"
"I am very sorry," she said, in a low voice; and l
the gloom he feit his hand taken and canied to her
lips. Then they went down-stairs into the dining-room,
which was now lit up ty a blaze of gas and candies,
During dinner, of course, no very confidential talklng;
was possible; and, iodeed, Sheila had plenty to teil of
her adventures at Richmond. Lavender was now in
more amiable mood; and was disposed to look upoa
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 3O7
the killing of the roebuck as rather a good joke. He
complimented Sheila on her good sense in having gone
in to the Star and Carter for lunch; and altogether some-
thing like better relations was established between them.
But when dinner was finally over, and the servants
dismissed, Lavender placed Sheila's easy chair for her
as usual, drew his own near hers, and lit a cigarette.
"New, teil me, Sheila," he said, "were you really
vexed with me when you went up-stairs and locked
yourself in your room? Did you think I meant to dis-
please you, or say anything harsh to you?"
"No, not any of those things," she said, calmly;
"I wished to be alone to think over what had hap-
pened. And I was grieved by what you said; for I
think you cannot help looking at many things not as
I will look at them that is all. It is my bringing up
in the Highlands, perhaps."
"Do you know, Sheila, it sometimes occurs to me
that you are not quite comfortable here; and I can't
make out what is the matter! I think you have a per-
verse fancy that you are different from the people you
meet, and that you cannot be like them, and all that
sort ofthing. Now, dear, that is only a fancy. There need
be no difiference, if only you will take a little trouble."
"Oh, Frank!" she said, going over and putting her
hand on his Shoulder, "I cannot take that trouble! I
cannot try to be like those people. And I see a great
difference in you since you have come back to Lon-
don, and you are getting to be like them, and say the
things they say. If I could only see you, my own
darling, up in the Lewis again, with rough clothes on,
and a gun in your hand, I should be happy. You
were yourself up there, when you were helping us in
the boat, or when you were bringing home the salmon,
20*
308 A PEIXCESS OF THULE.
or when we were all together at iii|;ht in the little
parlour, you know "
"My deai, don't gel so escited. Now sit down,
and I will teil you all about iL Vou seem to havc
the notion tbat people lose all their finer sentiments
simply because ihey don't, in society, burst into
raptures over them. You mustn't imagine all those
people are selfish and callous merely because they
preserve a decent reticence. To teil you the trath, that
constant profession of noble feelings you would like
to See would have sometliing of osteotation about iL"
Sheila only sighed.
"I do not wish them to be altered," she said, by
and by, with her eyes grown pensive; "all I know is
that I couid not live the same life. And you you
seemed to be happier up in the Highlands than yoa
liave ever been since."
"Well, you see, a man ought to be happy when he
is enjoying a holiday in the country, along with the
girl he is engaged to. But if I had lived all my life
killing salmon and shooting wild duck. I should have
grown up an Ignorant boor, with no more sense of "
He slopped; for he saw that the girl was thinking
of her father.
"Well, look here, Sheila. You see how you are
placed how we are placed, rather. Wouldn't it be
more sensible to gel to understand those people you
look askance at, and estabsh better relations with
ihem, since you have got to hve among iheml I can't
help thinking you are too rauch alone, and you can't
expect me to stay in the house alwajs with you. A
husband and wife cannot be continually in each other's
Company, unlcss they want to grow heartUy tired of
Cach Ollier, Now if you would only lay aside those
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON. 309
suspicions of yours, you would find the people just as
honest, and generous, and friendly as any other sort
of people you ever met, although they don't happen
to be fond of expressing their goodness in their talk."
"I have tried, dear I will try again," said Sheila.
She resolved that she would go down and visit
Mrs. Kavanagh next day, and try to be interested in
the talk of such people as might be there. She would
bring away some story about this or the other fashion-
able woman or noble lord, just to show her husband
that she was doing her best to leam. She would drive
patiently round the park in that dose little brougham,
and listen attentively to the moralities of Marcus Au-
relius. She would make an appointment to go with
Mrs. Lorraine to a moming concert. All these things,
and many more, Sheila silently vowed to herseif she
would do, while her husband sat and expounded to
her his theories of the obligations which society de-
manded of its members.
But her plans were suddenly broken asunder.
**I met Mrs. Lorraine accidentally to-day," he said.
It was his first mention of the young American
lady. Sheila sat in mute expectation.
"She always asks very kindly after you."
"She is very good."
He did not say, however, that Mrs. Lorraine had
more than once made distinct propositions, when in
his Company, that they should call in for Sheila, and
take her out for a drive, or to a flower-show, or some such
place, while Lavender had always some excuse ready.
"She is going to Brighton to-morrow, and she was
wondering whether you would care to tutv iO^^xi tot -.
sLy or two."
310 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
"With her?" said Sheila, recoiling from such a
proposal instinctively,
"Of course not. I should go. And then at last,
you know, you would see the sea, about which you
liave been dreaming for ever so long."
The seal There was a magic in the very word ihat
could almost at any moment summon tears into her
eyes. Of course, she accepted right gladly. If her
husband's diities were so pressing that the long-talked-
of journey to Lewis and Borva liad to be repeatedly
and indefinitely postponed, liere at least would be a
Chance of looking again at the sea of drinking in ihe
freshness and light and colour of it of renewing her
old and tntimate friendship with it, that had been
broken off for so long by her stay in this city of per-
petual houses and still sunshine.
"You can teil her you will go when you see her
to-night at Lady Mary's. By the way, ian't it time for
you to begin to dress?"
"Ob, Lady Mary's," repeated Shea, mechanically,
who had forgotlen all about her engagements for that
"Perhaps you are toQ tired to go," said herbuaband.
She was a little tired, in truth, But surely, just
after her promises, spoken and unspoken, some little
efFort was demanded of her; so she bravely went to
dress, and in about three-quarters of an hour was ready
to drive down to Curzon Street. Her husband had
never seen her look so pleased before in going out to
any party. He flattered himself that his lecture had
done her good. There was fair common-sense in what he
had said; and although, doubtiess, a girl's romanticism
was a pretty thing, it would have to yield to the actual
requirements of life. In time he should educatc Sheila.
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 3 1 1
But he did not know what brightened the girl's
face all that night, and put a new life into the beauti-
ful eyes, so that even those who knew her best were
Struck by her singular beauty. It was the sea that was
colouring Sheila's eyes. The people around her, the
glare of the candles, the hum of talking, and the
motion of certain groups dancing over there in the
middle of the throng all were faint and visionary;
for she was busily wondering what the sea would be
like the next moming, and what strnge fancies would
strike her when once more she walked on sand, and
heard the roar of waves. That, indeed, was the sound
that was present in her ears, while the music played,
and the people murmured around her. Mrs. Lorraine
talked to her, and was surprised and amused to notice
the eager fashion in which the girl spoke of their
joumey of the next day. The gentleman who took her
in to supper found himself catechised about Brighton
in a manner which afforded him more occupation than
enjojrment And when Sheila drove away from the
house, at two in the moming, she declared to her hus-
band that she had enjoyed herseif extremely, and he
was glad to hear it; and she was particularly kind to
himself in getting him his slippers, and fetching him
that final cigarette which he always had on reaching
home; and then she went ofif to bed to dream of ships,
and flying clouds, and cold winds, and a great and
beautiful blue piain of waves.
CHAPTER XIV.
Deeper and Deeper.
Next moming Sheila was busy with her prepara-
tions for departure when she heard a hansom drive up.
312 A PRINCESS Ol- THULE.
She looked from the window, and saw Mr. Ingram
Step out; and, before he had tirae to cross the pave-
ment, she had run round and opened the door, and
stood at the top of the Steps to receive hini. How
often had her husband cautioned her not to forget het-
self in this monstrous fashion!
"Did you think I had run awayl Have you come
to See me!" she said, with a bright, roseate gladness
on her face which reminded him of many a pleasaat
morning in Borva.
"I did not think you had run away, for you see I
have brought you sorae flowers," he saidj but ihere
was a sort of blush in llie sallow face, and perhaps
the girl had some quick fancy or suspicion that he
had brought this bouquet to prove that he knew evcry-
thing was right, and that he expected to see her. tt
was only a part of his universal kindness and thought-
fulness, she considered.
"Frank is upstairs," she said, "getting ready some
things to go to Brighton. Will you come into Ihe
breakfast-roomi Have you had breakfasti"
"Oh, you were going to Brighton."
"Yes," she said; and somehow something moved
her to add, quickly, "but not for long, you know. Only
a few days. It is many a time you will have told me
of Brighton, long ago, in the Lewis; but I cannot under-
stand a large town being beside the sea, and it will
be a great surprise to me, I am sure of that."
"Ay, Sheila," he said, falling into the old habit
quite naturally, "you will find it different from Borva-
bosL You will have no scampering about the rocks,
wiih your head bear, and your hair flying abouL You will
have to dress more correctly there than here even; and,by
ihe way, you must be busy getting ready, so I will go.''
DPR AND DEEPER. 313
^Oh no/' she said, with a quick look of disappoint-
ment, "you will not go yet. If I had known you were
Coming but it was very late when we will get home
this moming two o'clock it was."
**Another baU?"
"Yes," Said the girl, but not very joyfully.
**Why, Sheila," he said, with a grave smile on his
face, "you are becoming quite a woman of fashion
now. And you know I can't keep up an acquaintance
with a fine lady who goes to all these grand places,
and knows all sorts of swell people; so you'll have to
cut me, Sheila "
**I hope I shall be dead before that time ever
comes/' said the girl, with a sudden flash of indigna-
tion in her eyes. Then she softened. "But it is not
kind of you to laugh at me."
"Of course, I did not laugh at you," he said, tak-
ing both her hands in his, "although I used to some-
times when you were a little girl, and talked very wild
English. Don't you remember how vexed you used
to be; and how pleased you were when your papa tumed
the laugh against me by getting me to say that awful
Gaelic sentence about ^young calf aie a raw egg^?^^
"Can you say it nowl" said Sheila, with her face
getting bright and pleased again. "Try it after me.
Now listen."
She uttered some half-dozen of the most extraor-
dinary sounds that any language ever contained; but
Ingram would not attempt to follow her. She re-
proached him with having forgotten all that he had
leamt in Lewis; and said she should no longer look
on him as a possible Highlander.
"But what are you now," he asked. "You are no
longer that wild girl who used to run out to sea in the
314 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
Maighdean-mhara, whenever there was the exciiement
of a storm Coming od."
"Many times," she said, slowly and wistfully. '"I
will wish that I could be that again, for a lite while."
"Don't you enjoy, then, all those fine galherings
you go toi"
"I try lo like them."
"And you don't succeed."
He was looking at her gravely and earnestly; and
!ihe tumed away her head, and did not answer. At
this moment Lavender carae down stairs, and entered
the room.
"Hillo, Ingram, my boy; glad to see youl What
pretty owers ifs a pily we can't take them to Brighton
with US."
"But I intend to take thera," said Sheila, firmly.
"Ob, very well, if you don't mind the bolher," said
her husband; "I should have thought your hands
would have been fll you know, you'il have to take
everything with you you would want in London. You
will find that Brighton isn't a dirty little fishing-
village in which you've only to tuck up your dress and
run about anyhow."
"I never saw a dirty little fishing-village," said
Sheila, quietly.
Her husband laughed.
"I raeant no offence, I was not thinking of Borva-
bost at all. Well, Ingram, can't you run down and
see US while we are at Brighton)"
"Oh do, Mr. Ingraml" said Sheila, with quite a
new interest in her face, and she came forward as
though she would have gone down on her knees, and
begged this great favour of him,
"Do, Mr. Ingrami We should try to amuse you
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 315
some way; and the weather is sure to be fine. Shall
we keep a room for youl Can you come on Friday
and stay tili the Mondayl It is a great difiference
there will be in the place if you come down."
Ingram looked at Sheila, and was on the point of
promising, when Lavender added
"And we shall introduce you to that young American
lady whom you are so anxious to meet."
"Oh, is she to be there?" he said, looking rather
curiously at Lavender.
"Yes, she and her mother. We are going down
together."
"Then TU see whether I can, in a day or two," he
said, but in a tone which pretty nearly convinced Sheila
that she should not have her stay at Brighton made
pleasant by the Company of her old friend and associate.
However, the mere anticipation of seeing the sea
was much; and when they had got into a cab and
were going down to Victoria Station Sheila's eyes were
filled with a joyful anticipation. She had discarded
altogether the descriptions of Brighton that had been
given her. It is one thing to receive information, and
another to reproduce it in an imaginative picture; and,
in fact, her imagination was busy with its own work
while she sat and listened to this person or the other
speaking of the sea-side town she was going to. When
they spoke of promenades, and drives, and miles of
hoteis and lodging-houses, she was thinking of the
sea-beach, and of the boats, and of the sky-line with
its distant ships. When they told her of private
theatricals, and concerts, and fancy-dress balls, she
was thinking of being out on the open sea, with a
light breeze filling the sails, and a curl of white foara
rising at the bow and sweeping and hissing down the
3l6 A PKIHCESS OF THULE.
sides of ihe boat She would go down among the
fishermen, when her husband and his friends were not
by, and lallt lo thera, and get to know what they sold
their fish for down here in the South. She would
find out what their oets cost; and if there was any-
body in authority to whom they could apply for an
advance of a few pounds in case of hard times. Had
they their cuttings of peat free from the neaiest
moss-land; and did they dress their fields with the
thatch that had got saturated with the smoke) Per-
haps some of them could teil her where the crews
hailed frora that had repeatedly shot the sheep of the
Flannen isles. All these, and a hundred other things,
she would get to know; and she might procure and
send to her father some rare btrd, or curiosity of ihe
sea, that might be added to the little museura in
which she used to sing, in days gone by, when he was
busy with his pipe and his whisky.
"You are not much tired, then, by your dissipa-
tion of last night," said Mrs. Kavanagh to her, at the
Etation, as the slender, fair-haired, grave lady looked
admiringly at the girl's fresh colour and bright grey-
blue eyes. "It makes one envy you to see you looking
so strong and in such good spirits."
"How happy you must be always," said Mrs,
Lorraine, and the younger lady had the same sweet,
low, and kindly voice as her mother.
"I am very well, thank you," said Sheila, blushing
somewhat, and not lifting her eyes; whe Lavender
was impatient that she had not answered with a laugh
and some light retort such as would have occurred lo
almost any woraan in the circumstances.
On the joumey down, Lavender and Mrs. Lorraine,
seated opposite each other in two coraer-seats, kcpt ]
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 317
up a continual cross-fire of small pleasantries, in which
the young American lady had distinctiy the best of it,
chiefly by reason of her perfect manner. The keenest
thing she said was said with a look of great innocence
and candour in the large grey eyes; and then directly
afterwards, she would say something very nice and
pleasanty in precisely the same voice, as if she could
not understand that there was any effort on the part
of either to assume an advantage. The mother some-
times tumed and listened to this aimless talk with an
amused gravity, as of a cat watching the gambols of
a kitten; but generally she devoted herseif to Sheila,
who sat opposite her. She did not talk much, and
Sheila was glad of that; but the girl feit she was being
observed with some little curiosity. She wished that
Mrs. Kavanagh would tum those observant grey eyes
of hers away in some other direction. Now and again,
Sheila would point out what she considered strnge
or striking in the country outside; and for a moment
the elderly lady would look out But directly after-
wards, the grey eyes would come back to Sheila; and
the girl knew they were upon her. At last, she so
persistently stared out of the window, that she feil to
dreaming; and all the trees, and the meadows, and
the farmhouses, and the distant heights and hollows,
went past her as though they were in a sort of mist;
while she replied to Mrs. Kavanagh's chance remarks
in a mechanical fashion, and could only hear as a
monotonous murmur the talk of the two people at the
other side of the carriage. How much of the joumey
did the girl remember] She was greatly Struck by the
amount of open land in the neighbourhood of London
the commons between Wandsworth and Streatham
and so forth and she was pleased with the appearancq
3I A PRINCESS OF TllULE,
of the country about Redhill. For the rest, a suc-
cession of fair green pictotes passed by her, all bathed
in a calm, half-misty, summer sunlight; theo Ihey
pierced the chalk hills {which Sheila, at first sight,
fancied were of granite) and rumbled through the
tunnels. Finally, with just a glimpse of a great mass
of great houses Alling a vast holiow and stretching up
the bare green downs beyond they found themselves
in Brighton.
"Well, Sheila, what do you think of the placel"
her husband said Co her, in a kindly way, as tiiey were
driving down the Queen's Road.
Slie did not ans wer.
"Il is not like Borvabost, is itJ"
She was too bewildered to speak. She could only
look about her with a vague wonder and disappoint-
ment. But sureiy this great city was not the place
they had come to live in? VVoidd it not disappear
somehow, and they woiild get away to the sca, and
the rocks, and the boats?
They passed into the upper pari of the West Street,
and here was another tlioroughfare, down which Sheila
glanced with no great inlerest. But the next moment,
there was a quick catching of her breath, which almost
resembied a sob; and a strnge, glad ght sprang into
her eyes. Here, at last, was the sea! Away beyend
the narrow thoroughfare she could catch a glimpse of
a great green piain yellow-green it was in the sun-
light that the wind was whitening here and there with
tumbling waves. She had not noticed that there was
any wind inland; Ihere everylhing seemed asleep; but
here there was a fresh breeze from the south, and the
sea had been rough the day before, and now it was
of this Strange olive colour, streaked with the white
m
DPR ANO DEEPER. 3 IQ
curk of foam that shone in the sunlight. Was there
not a cold scent of sea-weed, too, blown up this narrow
passage between the houses? And now the carriage
cut round the comer, and whirled out into the glare
of the Parade; and before her the great sea stretched
out its leagues of tumbling and shining waves, and
she heard the water roaring along the beach, and far
away at the horizon she saw a phantom ship. She
did not even look at the row of splendid hoteis and
housesy at the gaily dressed folks on the pavement,
at the brilliant flag^ that were flapping and fluttering
on the New Pier, and about the beach. It was the
great world of shining water beyond that fascinated
her, and awoke in her a strnge yeaming and longing,
so that she did not know whether it was grief or joy
that bumed in her heart, and blinded her eyes with
tears. Mrs. Kavanagh took her arm as they were
going up the steps of the hotel, and said, in a friendly
way, "I suppose you have some sad memories of the sea."
"No," Said Sheila, bravely, "it is always pleasant
to me to think of the sea; but it is a long time since
since "
"Sheila," said her husband, abruptly, "do teil me
if all your things are here;" and then the girl turned,
calm and seif coUected, to look after rugs and boxes.
When they were finally established in the hotel,
Lavender went ofif to negotiate for the hire of and car-
riage for Mrs. Kavanagh during her stay; and Sheila
was left with the two ladies. They had tea in their
sitting-room; and they had it at one of the Windows,
so that they could look out on the stream of people
and carriages now beginning to flow by in the clear
yellow light of the aftemoon. But neither the people
nor the carriages had much interest for Sheila, who,
330 A PRKCESS OF THULX.
indecd. sat for the most part sent, iniently waUng
the various boats that were putting out or comii^ in,
and hasy with conjectures which she knew theie was
no use placing before her two cotnpaiiions.
"Brighton seetns to surprise you verj mach," said
Mrs. Loiraine.
"Ves," said Sheila, "I have bcen told all about ii;
but you will forget all that and this is very diffdent
from the sea at home at my home."
"Your home is in Lgndon now," said the eldet
lady, with a sme.
"Oh no!" said Sheila, most anxionsly and ear-
ncstly. "London, that is not our home at all. We
live there for a time; that will be quite necessaij;
but we shall go back to the Lewis some day sood
not to stay altogether, but enough to make it as mucb
our home as London."
"How do you think Mr. Lavender will enjoy living
in the Hebrides)" said Mrs. Lorraine, with a look of
innocent and friendly inqiiiry in her eyes.
"It was many a. time that he has said he never
liked any place so much," said Sheila, with something
of a blush; and Ihen she added, with growbg courage,
"for you must not think he is always like what
he is bere. Oh no; when he is in ihe Highlands,
there is no day thal is nearly long enough for what
has to be done in it; and he is up very early;
and away to the loch or the hls wiih a gun or
a salmon-rod. He can catch the salmon very well
- oh, very well for one that is not accustomed;
M\i\ he will shoot as well as anyone that is in the
luliind, except my papa, It is a great deal to do there
will Ue in ihe island, and plenty of amusement; and
tlivrc is not rauch chance not any whatever of hi
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 321
being lonely or tired when we go to live in the
Lewis."
Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter were both amused
and pleased by the eamest and rapid fashion in which
Sheila talked. They had generally considered her to
be a trifle shy and silent not knowing how afraid
she was of using wrong idioms or pronunciations; but
here was one subject on which her heart was set, and
she had no more thought as to whether she said "like-
ah-ness" or likeness, or whether she said "gyarden"
or garden. Indeed, she forgot more than that. She
was somewhat excited by the presence of the sea,
and the well-remembered sound of the wavesj and
she was pleased to talk about her life in the north,
and about her husband's stay there, and how they
should pass the time when she retumed to Borva.
She neglected altogether Lavender's injunctions that
she should not talk about fishing, or cooking, or farm-
ing to his friends. She incidentally revealed to Mrs.
Kavanagh and her daughter a great deal more about
the household at Borva than he would have wished
to be known. For how could they understand about
his wife having her own cousin to serve at table; and
what would they think of a young lady who was
proud of making her father's shirts? Whatever these
two ladies may have thought, they were very obviously
interested; and, if they were amused, it was in a far
from unfriendly fashion. Mrs. Lorraine professed her-
seif quite charmed with Sheila's descriptions of her
island life; and wished she could go up to Lewis to
see all these strnge things. But when she spoke of
visiting the island, when Sheila and her husband
were staying there, Sheila was not nearly so ready to
A Pfincen nf ThUe. I. 21
323 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
offer her a welcome as the daughter of a hospitable
old Highlandman ought to have bcen.
"And will you go oat in a boat now!" said Shea,
looking down to the beach.
"In a boati What sort of a boatJ" said Mri
Kavanagh.
"Any one of those little sailing boats it is veiy
good boats they are, as far as I can see."
"No, ihank you," said the elderly lady, with a
smile. "I am not fond of small boats; and the c
pany of the tnen who go with you might be a lite
objectionable, I should fancy."
"But you need not take any men," said Shcita; ,
the sailing of one of those little boats, it is very simple.*"
"Do you mean to say you could manage the boaf
by yourselfl"
"Oh yes. It is very simple. And my husband,,
he will help me."
"And what would you do, if you went out?"
"We might try the fishing. I do not see where
the rocks are; but we would go off the rocks, and put
down the anchor, and try the lines. You would havc
some ferry good fish for breakfast, in the moming."
"My dear child," said Mrs. Kavanagh, "you don't
know what you propose to us. To go and roll about
in an open boat, in these waves we should be ill i
five minutes. But I suppose you don't know what sea-
sickness isl"
"No," said Sheila, "but I will hear my husband
speak of it often. And it is only in crossing the.
Channel that people will get sick."
"Why, this is the Channel!"
Shei stared. Then she cndeavoured to recall
her geogiaphy. Of course, this must be a part of tbe
DEEPER AND DEEPER. ^2^
Channel; but if the people in the south became ill in
this weather, they must be rather feeble creatures.
Her speculations on this point were cut short by the
entrance of her husband, who came to announce that
he had not only secured a carriage for a month, but
that it would be round at the hotel-door in half-an-
hour; whereupon the two American ladies said they
would be ready, and left the room.
"Now go off and get dressed, Sheila," said Lavender.
She stood for a moment irresolute.
"If you wouldn't mind," she said, after a momenfs
hesitation, "if you would allow me to go by myself
if you would go to the driving and let me go down
to the shore "
"Oh, nonsense!" he said. "You will have people
fanc)dng you are only a schoolgirl. How can you go
down to the beach by yourself among all those loaf-
ing vagabonds, who would pick your pocket or throw
stones at you? You must behave like an ordinary
Christian: now do, like a good girl, get dressed, and
submit to the restraints of civilized life. It won't hurt
you much."
So she left, to lay aside with some regret her
rough blue dress: and he went downstairs to see about
ordering dinner.
Had she come down to the sea, then, only to live
the life that had nearly broken her heart in London?
It seemed so. They drove up and down the Parade
for about an hour and a half; and the roar of car-
riages drowned the rush of the waves. Then they
dined in the quiet of this still summer evening; and
she could only see the sea as a distant and silent
picture through the Windows, while the talk of her
companions was either about the people whom they
21*
r
324 A I'RINCESS Ol' THULE,
had seen while driving, or about matters of which j
she knew nothing. Then the blinds were drawn, and ]
cajidles lit; and still their conversation munnured
aroand her unheeding ears. After dinner, her hus- j
band went down lo the smoking roam of the holel Ii
have a cigar; and she was left wJth Mrs. Kavanagh i
and her daughter. She went to the window, and 1
looked through a chink in the Venelian blinds. There j
was a beautiful clear twilight abroad, the darkness was J
still of a soft grey, and up in the pale yellow-green I
of the sky a large planet biiraed and throbbed. Soon 1
the sea and the sky would darken; the stars wouldl
cotne forth in ihousands and tens of thousands; and'l
the moving water would be Struck with a millioal
trembng spots of silver, as the waves came onwaid/
to the beach.
"Mayn't we go out for awalk tili Frank has finished
his cigar!" said Sheila.
"You couldn't go out Walking at this time of
night," Said Mrs. Kavanagh, in a kindly wayj "you
would rneet the most unpleasant persons. Beside^
going out into the night air would be most dangerous."
"It is a beautiful night," said Sheila, with 3 sigh.
She was still standing at the window.
"Come," said Mrs. Kavanagh, going over to he
and putting her band in her arm. "We cannot havi
any moping, you know, You raust be content to b
duJl with US for one night; and after to-night, we sha
see what we can do to amuse you."
"Oh, but I don't want to be amused!" crie
Sheila, almost in terror, for some vision ashed c
her mind of a series of parties. "I would mui
rather be left alone, and allowed to go about by ffl
seif. But it is verj' kind of you," she hasty addE
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 325
fancpng that her speech had been somewhat ungracious;
"it is very kind of you indeed."
"Come, I promised to teach you cribbage, didn't I?"
" Yes," Said Sheila, with much resignation; and she
walked to the table, and sat down.
Perhaps, after all, she could have spent the rest of
the evening with some little equanimity, in patiently try-
ing to leam this game, in which she had no interest
whatever; but her thoughts and fancies were soon
drawn away from cribbage. Her husband retumed.
Mrs. Lorraine had been for some little time at the
big piano at the other side of the room, amusing her-
seif by playing snatches of anything she happened to
remember; but when Mr. Lavender retumed, she seemed
to wake up. He went over to her and sat down by
the piano.
"Here," she said, "I have all the duets and songs
you spoke of; and I am quite delighted with those I
have tried. I wish Mamma would sing a second to
me how can one leam without practising? And there
are some of those duets I really should like to leam
after what you said of them."
"Shall I become a Substitute for your mammal"
he said.
'^And sing the second, so that I may practise?
Your dgar must have left you in a very amiable mood."
"Well, suppose we try," he said, and he proceeded
to open out the roll of music which she had brought
down.
** Which shall we take first?" he asked.
**It does not much matter," she answered indif-
ferently, and, indeed, she took up one of the duets by
haphazard. What was it made Mrs. Kavanagh's com-
panion suddenly lift her eyes from the cribbage-boaid^
r
326 A PRIKCESS OF TBULK.
and look with surprise to the other end of the roomt
She liad recognized the little prelude to one of her
own duets, and it was beiag played by Mrs. Lorraiae.
And it was Mrs. Lorraine who began to siDg in a J
sweet, expressive, and well-trained voice of no g
power
and h was she to whom the answer was given
and then, Sheila, sitting stupefied, and pained and
confused, heard ihem sing together
And i.iliii i)u wHoia k/ ay iair."
She had not heard the short convetsation wiiicb had
introduced this music; and she could not teil but thatj
her husband had been practising these duets her '
duets with some one eise, For presenlly they sang,,'
"When the rosy mom appcaring," and "I would thal
my love could silently," and others, all of them, in
Sheila's eyes, sacred to the time when she and Frank
Lavender used to sit in the litde room at Borva. It
was no consolalion to her that Mrs. Lorraine had but
an imperfect acquaintance with them; that oftentimes
she stumbled and went back over a bit of the accom-
paniment; that her voice was far from being striking.
Lavender, at all events, seemed to hced none of these
lliings. It was not as a music-niaster that he sang
with her. He put as much expression of love inte
his voice as ever he had done in the old days wher
he sang with his future bride. And it seemed st
cruel that this woman should have taken Sheila's owi
duets from her, to sing before her, with her owi
husband. Sheila learnt ttle more cribbage thal even
mg. Mrs. Kavanagh could not understand how he
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 327
pupil had become embarrassed, inattentive, and even
sad; and asked her if she was tired. Sheila said she
was very tired, and would go. And, when she got
her candle, Mrs. Lorraine and Lavender had just dis-
covered another duet which they feit bound to try
together, as the last.
This was not the first time she had been more
or less vaguely pained by her husband's attentions to
this young American lady; and yet she would not
admit to herseif that he was any way in the wrong.
She would entertain no suspicion of him. She would
have no jealousy in her heart; for how could jealousy
exist with a perifect faithl And so she had repeatedly
reasoned herseif out of these tentative feelings, and
resolved that she would do neither her husband nor
Mrs. Lorraine the injustice of being vexed with them.
So it was now. What more natural than that Frank
should recommend to any friend the duets of which
he was particularly fond? What more natural than
that this young lady should wish to show her appre-
ciation of those songs by singing them; and who was
to sing with her but hei Sheila would have no
suspicion of either; and so she came down next mom-
ing determined to be very friendly with Mrs. Lorraine.
But that forenoon another thing occurred which
nearly broke down all her resolves.
"Sheila," said her husband, "I don't think I ever
asked you whether you rode."
**I used to ride many times at home," she said.
"But I suppose you'd rather not ride here," he
said. "Mrs. Lorraine and I propose to go out pre-
sently: you'll be able to amuse yourself somehow tili
we come back."
328 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
Mrs. Lorraine had, indeed, gone to put on her
habil ; and her raoiher was with her.
"I suppose I may go out," said Shcila. "It is so
very dull indoors, and Mrs. Kavanagh is afndd of ie
east wind, and she is not going out."
"Well, there's no hrm in your going out; but I
should have thought you'd have liked the comfort of
watching the people pass from the window."
Sheila said nothing; but went off to her own room,
and dressed to go out Why, she knew not, but she
feit she would rather not see her husband and Mrs.
Lorraine start from the hotei-door, She stole down-
stairs, without going into the sitting-room; and then,
going through the great hall and down the Steps,
found herseif free and alone in Brighton,
It was a beautiful, bright, clear day, though thej
wind was a trifle chilly; and all around her there was
a sense of space, and light, and motion in the shining. j'
skies, the far clouds, and the heaving and noisy sea. ,
Yet she had none of the gladness of heart with which i
she used to rush out of the house at Borva, to drink,.
in the fresh salt air, and feel the sunght on heri
cheeks. She walked away, with her face wistful and
pensive, along the King's Road, scarcely seeing any of
the people who passed her; and the noise of the crowd
and of the waves humtned in her ears in a distant
fasbion, even as she walked along the wooden lailing
over the beach. She stopped and watched some men
pulting off a heavy tishing-boat; and she still stood
and looked long after the boat was launched. She
would not confess to herseif Ihat she feit lonely and
miserable: it was the sight of the sea that was me-
lancholy. It seemed so different from the sea ofl
Borva, that had always to her a familir and friendl]
1
o
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 329
look, even when it was raging and rushing before a
south-west wind. Here this sea looked vast, and
calm, and sad; and the sound of it was not pleasant
to her ears as was the sound of the waves on the
rocks at Borva. She walked on, in a blind and un-
thinking fashion, until she had got far up the Parade,
and could see the long line of monotonous white cliff
meeting the dull blue piain of the waves until both
disappeared in the horizon.
She retumed to the King's Road, a trifle tired,
and sat down on one of the benches there. The
passing of the people would amuse her; and now the
pavement was thronged with a crowd of gaily-dressed
folks, and the centre of the thoroughfare was brisk
with the constant going and Coming of riders. She
saw Strange old women, painted, powdered, and be-
wigged, in hideous imitation of youth, pounding up
and down the level street, and she wondered what
wild hallucinations possessed the brains of these poor
creatures. She saw troops of beautiful young girls,
with flowing hair, clear eyes, and bright complexions,
riding by a goodly Company under charge of a
riding mistress; and the world seemed to grow sweeter
when they came into view. But while she was vaguely
gazing, and wondering, and speculating, her eyes were
suddenly caught by two riders whose appearance sent
a throb to her heart. Frank Lavender rode well; so
did Mrs. Lorraine; and, though they were paying no
particular attention to the crowd of passers-by, they
doubtless knew that they could challenge criticism
with an easy confidence. They were laughing and
talking to each other as they went rapidly by; neither
of them saw Sheila, The girl did not look after them.
She rose and walked in the other direction^ with e.
330 A PRINCESS OF TmJLE.
greater pain at her heart than had been tha
many a day.
What was this crowdl Some dozen. or so of people I
were slanding round a small girl who, accompanied )
by a man, was playing a violin, and playing it very
well, too. But it was not the music that attracled ]
Sheila to the child; but partly that there was a look
about the timid, pretty face, and the modest and
honest eyes, that reminded her of little Ailasa, and '
pary because, just at this moment, her heart seemed
to be strangely sensitive and sympathetic She took
oo thought of the people looking on. She went for-
ward to the edge of the pavement, and found that the
small girl and her companions were about to go away.
Sheila stopped the man.
"Wl you let youT little girl come with me into
this Shop?"
It was a confectioner's shop.
" We were going home to dinner," said the
man, while the small girl looked up with wondering
eyes.
"Will you let her have dinner with me, and you
will come back in half-an-hourl "
The man looked at the little girl; he seemed to
be really fond of her, and saw that she was very wilng
to go, Sheila took her hand, and led her into the
confectioner's shop, putting her violin on one of the
small marble tables while they sat down at another,
She was probably not aware that two or thiee idlen
had foUowed them, and were staring with might and
main in at the door of the shop.
What could this child have thought of the beauti
ful and yet sad-eyed lady who was so kind to h
who gol her all sorts of things with her own hand;
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 331
and asked her all manner of questions in a low, gentie,
and sweet voicel There was not much in Sheila's
appearance to provoke fear or awe. The little girl,
shy at first, got to be a little more frank; and told her
hostess when she rose in the morning, how- she prac-
tised, the number of hours they were out during the
day, and many of the small incidents of her daily life.
She had been photographed too, and her photograph
was sold in one of the shops. She was very well
content; she liked playing; the people were kind to
her, and she did not often get tired.
"Then I shall see you often if I stay in Brightonl"
Said Sheila.
"We go out every day when it does not rain very
hard."
"Perhaps some wet day you will come and see
me, and you will have some tea with me; would you
like thati"
"Yes, very much," said the small musician, looking
up frankly.
Just at this moment the half-hour having fuUy
expired the man appeared at the door.
"Don't hurry," said Sheila to the little girl; sit
still and drink up the lemonade; then I will give you
some little parcels you must put in your pocket."
She was about to rise to go to the counter, when
she suddenly met the eyes of her husband, who was
calmly staring at her. He had come out, after their
ride, with Mrs. Lorraine to have a stroll up and down
the pavements, and had, in looking in at the various
shops, caught sight of Sheila quietly having luncheon
with this girl whom she had picked up in the streets.
"Did you ever see the like of thaXV* he said to Mrs.
Loiraine. "In open day with people staring in
332 A PRiNCESS OF THULE.
and she has not even taken the trouble to put thc
violin out of sight."
"The poor child means no hrm," said his com-
"Weil, we must get her out of this somehow," he
said, and so they entere d the shop.
Sheila knew she was guilty the moment she mel
her husband's look, thoiigh she had never drearaed of
it before. She had, indeed, acted quite thoughtleasiy
perhaps chiefiy moved by a desire to speak lo some
one, and to befricnd some one in her own loneliness.
"Hadn't you better let this little girl go)" said
Lavender to Sheila, with an embairassed laugh, as
soon as he had ordered an ice for his companion.
"When she has finished her lemonade she will
go," said Sheila, meekly. "But I have to buy some
things for her first"
"You have goE a whole lot of people round Iha
door," he said.
"It was very kind of the people to wait for her,"
answered Sheila, with the same composure. "We have.
been here half-an-hour. I suppose they will like her
music vety much," I
The little violinist was now taken to the counter, i
and her pockets stuffed with packages of sugared fruits
and other dainty deUcacies; then she was permitted to j
go with half-a-crown in her hand. Mrs. Lonaine j
patted her Shoulder in passing, and said she was a
pretty little thing.
They went home to luncheon, Nothing was said ,
about the incident of the forenoon, except that Lavender
complained to Mrs. Kavanagh, in a humorous way, that
his wife had a most extraordinary fondness for beggars:'
and that he never went home of an evening withooti
DEEPBR AND DEEPER. 333
expecting to find her dining with the nearest scavenger
and his family. Lavender, indeed, was in an amiable
frame of mind at this meal (during the progress of
which Sheila sat by the window, of course, for she had
already lunched m Company with the tiny Violinist),
and was bent on making himself as agreeable as pos-
sible to his two companions. Their talk had drifted
towards the wanderings of the ladies on the Continent;
from that to the Nibelungen frescoes in Munich; from
that to the Nibelungen itself, and then, by easy transi-
tion , to the ballads of Uhland and Heine. Lavender
was in one of his most impulsive and brilliant moods
gay and jocular, tender and S3niipathetic by tums,
and so obviously sincere in all that his listeners were
delighted with his speeches, and assertions, and stories,
and believed them as implicitly as he did himself.
Sheila, sitting at a distance, saw and heard, and could
not help recalling many an evening in the far north,
when Lavender used to fascinate everyone around him
by the infection of his warm and poetic enthusiasm.
How he talked, too telling the stories of these quaint
and pathetic ballads in his own rough-and-ready trans-
lations while there was no self-consciousness in his
face, but a thorough warmth of eamestness; and some-
times, too, she would notice a quiver of the under lip
that she knew of old, when some pathetic point or
phrase had to be indicated rather than described. He
was drawing pictures for them as well as telling stories
of the three students entering the room in which the
landlady's daughter lay dead of Barbarossa in his cave
of the child who used to look up at Heine as he
passed her in the street, awe-stricken by his pale and
Strange face of the last of the band of companions
who sat in the solitary room in which they had sat^
334 * uKUss or tbsu.
and dnnk to dieir bmxdcxt of dte King of Tbule,
and the deaerter &oan S tt aafa M g , 3ad a ihoosand ocbos.
"Btrt b tboe any of tfaem is tbere anjduDg in
the worid more piable dua that pSgrimagc lo Ker-
kutrt" he laid- "Von know i^ o oontse. No! Oh!
foa mnst, stn^. DratH yoo lemember the nrndicr
who stood hy tt bedside of ho- sd son, and asked
bim wbetbCT bc wonld not nsc to sec the great pio-
oession go b^ the wiodow- and he teDs her that he
CEmnot he is so ill his heait is breaHiig foi think-
ing of his dead Gretcheal Fcu know the stoty, SheUa.
The mother begs him to rise and come with her, and
they will join the band of pUgriins going to KevUar,
to be healed there of their vrounds by the Mother of
God. Then you find them at Kevlaai, and all the
maimed and the lame people have come to the shrine;
and whichever limb is diseased, they make a waxen
image of that, and lay it ob the altar, and then they
are healed. Well, the mother of this poor lad takes
wax and forms a heart out of it, and says to her son,
'Take that to the Mother of God, and she will heal
your pain.' Sighing, he takes the wax heart in his
hand, and, sighing, he goes to the shrine; and there,
with tears ninning down his face, he says, 'O faeauti-
ful Queen of Heaven, I am come-to teil you my grief.
1 lived with my mother in Colognc near us lived
Gretchen who is dead now. Blessed Mary, I bring
you this wax heart; heal the wound in my heart.'
And tJien ^and then "
Sheila saw his lip tremble. But he frowned, and
Said, impatiently^
"What a hame it is to destroy such a beautiftil
Storyl You can have no idea of it of its simplicity
and tenderaesg "
]
DEEPER AND DEEPER. 335
"But pray let us heax the rest of it,'' said Mrs.
Lorraine, gently.
"Well, the last scene, you know, is a small Chamber,
and the mother and her sick son are asleep. The
Blessed Mary glides into the Chamber, and bends over
the young man, and puts her hand lightly on his
heart. Then she smiles and disappears. The mother
has seen all this in a dream, and now she awakes, for
the dogs are barking loudly. The mother goes over
to the bed of her son, and he is dead, and the mom-
ing light touches his pale face. And then the mother
meekly folds her hands, and says "
He rose hastily, with a gesture of fretfulness, and
walked over to the window at which Sheila sat, and
looked out She put her hand up to his; he took it
"The next time I try to translate Heine," he said,
making it appear that he had broken ofF through vexa-
tion, "something strnge will happen/'
"It is a beautiful story," said Mrs. Lorraine, who
had herseif been crying a little bit, in a covert way;
"I wonder I have not seen a translation of it Come,
Mamma, Lady Leveret said we were not to be after four."
So they rose and left; and Sheila was alone with
her husband, and still holding his hand. She looked
ap at him timidly, wondering, perhaps, in her simple
way, as to whether she should not now pour out her
heart to him; and teil him all her griefs, and fears, and
yeamings. He had obviously been deeply moved by
the Story he had told so roughly; surely now was a
good opportunity of appealing to him, and begging
for sympathy and compassion.
"Frank," she said, and she rose, and came close,
and bent down her head to hide the colour in her
face.
330 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
"Welll" he answered.
"You won't be vexed with me," she said, in a low
voice, and with her heart beginning to beat rapidly.
"Vexed with you about what, Sheilal" he said.
Alas! all her hopes had fled. She shrank from
the wondering look with which she knew he was re-
garding her. She feit it to be impossible that she
should place before him those confidences with which
she had approached him; and so, with a great eflfort,
she merely said
"Are we to go to Lady Leverefsl"
"I suppose so," he said, "unless you would rather
go and see some blind fiddler or beggar. Sheila, you
should really not be so forgetful; what if Lady Leveret,
for example, had come into that shopl You should
remember you are a woman, and not a child. Do you
ever see Mrs. Kavanagh or her daughter do any of
these thingsl"
Sheila had let go his band; her eyes were still
turned towards the ground. She had fancied that a
little of that emotion that had been awakened in him
by the story of the German mother and her son might
warm his heart towards herseif, and render it possible
for her to talk to him frankly about all that she had been
dimly thinking, and more definitely suffering. She was
mistaken: that was all.
"I will try to do better, and please you," she said;
and then she went away.
END OF VOL. I.
PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PBLI8ILER,
COLLECTION
OF
BRITISH ATHOS
TAUCHNITZ EDITION.
VOL. 1382.
A PRINCESS OF THIE BY WILLIAM BLACK.
IN IWO TOLHES.
VOL. n.
PRINCESS OF THLE.
BY
WILLIAM BLACK,
AUTHOR OF '*A DAUGHTER OF HETH."
COPYRIGHT EDITION,
IN T W O V O L.U M E S.
VOL. IL
LEIPZIG
BERNHARD TAUCPINITZ
1874.
The R ight of Tramlatum U resfrvtti.
CONTENTS
OF VOLUME II.
Page
CHAPTER I. A Friend in Need 7
II. Exchanges 39
III. Guesses 53
IV. Sheila's Stratagem 73
V. A new Day breaks Z03
VI. A Surprise zaS
VII. Meeting and Parting Z49
VIII. "LUce Hadrianus and Augustus" .... Z76
IX. InExile 202
X. "Harne fainwould I be" 323
XI. The Voyageof the "Phoebe** 251
XII. Redintegratio amoris 278
XIII. The Princess Sheila 303
A PRINCESS OF THULE.
CHAPTER L
A Friend in Need.
Was it a delusion that had grown up m the girl's
mind, and now held fll possession of it that she
was in a world with which she had no sympathy, that
she should never be able to find a home there, that
the influences of it were gradually and surely stealing
from her her husband's love and confidencel Or was
this longing to get away from the people and the cir-
cumstances that surrounded her, but ie unconscious
promptings of an incipient jealousyl She did not
question her own mind closely on tiiese points. She
only vaguely knew that she was miserable, and that
she could not teil her husband of the weight that
pressed on her heart
Here, too, as they drove along to have tea with a
certain Lady Leveret, who was one of Lavender's
especial patrons, and to whom he had introduced Mrs.
Kavanagh and her daughter, Sheila feit that she was
a stranger, an interloper, a "third wheel to the cart"
She scarcely spoke a word. She looked at the sea;
but she had almost grown to regard that great piain
of smooth water as a melancholy and monotonous
thing not the bright and boisterous sea of her youth,
with its winding Channels, its secret bays and rocks,
8 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
its Salt winds, and nishing waves. She was disap-
pointed with the perpetual wall of white clifF, where
she had expected to see something of the black and
rugged shore of the north. She had as yet made no
acquaintance with the sea-life of the place; she did
not know where the curers lived, whether they gave
the fishermen credit and cheated them, whether the
people about here made any use of the back of the
dog-fish, or could, in hard seasons, cook any of the
wild fowl; what the ling, and the cod, and the skate
fetched; where the wives and daughters sat and span
and carded their wool; whether they knew how to
make a good dish of cockles boiled in milk. She
smiled to herseif when she thought of asking Mrs.
Lorraine about any such things; but she still cherished
some vague hope that, before she left Brighton, she
would have some little chance of getting near to the
sea and leaming a little of the sea-life down in the
south.
And as they drove along the King's Road on this
afternoon, she suddenly called out
"Look, Frank!"
On the Steps of the Old Ship hotel stood a small
man with a brown face, a brown beard, and a beaver
hat, who was calmly smoking a wooden pipe, and
looking at an old woman selling oranges in front of him.
"It is Mr. Ingram!" said Sheila.
"Which is Mr. Ingram!" asked Mrs. Lorraine, with
considerable interest, for she had often heard Lavender
speak of his friend. "Not that little man?"
"Yes," said Lavender, coldly: he could have wished
that Ingram had had some little more regard for ap-
pearances in so public a place as the main thorough-
fare of Brighton.
A FRIEND IN ND. 9
"Won't you stop and speak to himi" said Sheila,
with great surprise.
"We are late already," said her husband. "But if
you would rather go back and speak to him than go
on with US, you may."
Sheila said nothing more; and so they drove on
to the end of the Parade, where Lady Leveret held
possession of a big white house with pillars, overlook-
ing the broad street and the sea.
But next morning she said to him
"I suppose you will be riding with Mrs. Lorraine
this morning?"
**I suppose so."
^I should like to go and see Mr. Ingram, if he is
still there," she said.
''Ladies don't generally call at hoteis and ask to
see gentlemen," he said, with a laugh and a shrug;
"but of course you don't care for that"
The permission, if it was intended to be a permis-
sion, was not very gracious, but Sheila accepted it,
and very shortly after breakfast she changed her dress
and went out How pleasant it was to feel that she
was going to see her old friend, to whom she could
talk freely! The morning seemed to know of her
gladness, and to share in it; for there was a brisk
southerly breeze blowing fresh in from the sea, and
the waves were leaping white in the sunlight. There
was no more sluggishness in the air, or the grey sky,
or the leaden piain of the sea. Sheila knew that the
blood was mantling in her cheeks; that her heart was
fll of joy; that her whole frame so tingled with life
and spirit that, had she been in Borva, she would
have challenged her deer-hound to a race, and fled
down the side of the hill with him to the small bay
10 A PRWCKSS OF YSTTtK.
of white sand below the house, She did nol pause I
for a rainute when she reached the hotel. She went I
up the Steps, opened the door, and entered the Square
hall. There was an odour of tobacco in Che place;
and several genemen standing about rather
fused her, for she had to glance at them in looking i
for a waiter. Another minnte would probably have |
found her a trifle embairassed: but just at this
she saw Ingram himself come out of a room, with a i
cigarette in his band. He threw away the cigaretle,
and came forward to her with amazement in his eyes.
"Where is Mr. Lavender) Has he gooe into the j
smoking-room for tnet" he asked.
"He is not here," said Sheila. "I have come for \
you by myself."
For a moment, too, Ingram feit the eyes of the men fi
on him; but directly he said, with a fine air of care-
lessness, "Well, that is very good of you. Shall we 1
go out for a stroU until yotir husband comes)"
So he opened the door and foUowed her outside, .
into the fresh air and the roar of the waves.
"Well, Sheila," he said, "this is very good of you, |
really: where is Mr. Lavendert"
"He generally rides with Mrs. Lotraine in the
moming."
"And what do you do)"
"I sit at the window."
"Don't you go boatingV
"No, I have not been in a boaL They do not
care for it And yesterday, it was a letter to Papa I
was miting, and I could teil him nothing about the
people here or the fishing."
"But you could not in any case, Sheila. I sup-
pose you would likc to know what they pay for the
A FRIEND IN NEED. 1 1
lines, and how they dye their wool, and so on; but
you would find the fishermen here don't live in that
way at all. They are all civilized, you know, they
buy their cloth in the shops. They never eat any
sort of seaweed, or dye with it either. However, I
will teil you all about it by and by. At present, I
suppose you are retuming to your hotel."
A quick look of pain and disappointment passed
over her face, as she tumed to him for a moment,
with something of entreaty in her eyes.
"I came to see you," she said. "But perhaps you
have an engagement I do not wish to take up any
of your time if you please, I will go back alone
to "
"Now, Sheila," he said, with a smile, and with the
old friendly look she knew so well, "you must not
talk like that to me. I won't have it You know I
came down to Brighton because you asked me to
come; and my time is altogether at your service."
"And you have no engagement just nowl" said
Sheila, with her face brightening.
"No."
"And you will take me down to the shore, to see
the boats, and the netst Or could we go out and
run along the coast for a few milesl It is a very good
wind."
"Oh, I should be very glad," said Ingram, slowly.
"I should be delighted. But, you see, wouldn't your
husband think it wouldn't he, you know wouldn't
it seem just a little odd to him if you were to go
away like thatl"
"He is to go riding with Mrs. Lorraine," said
Sheila, quite simply. "He does not want me."
12 A PRINCZSS OF TRDtE. '
"Of coQrse you told him you were Coming to sec
you were going to call at Ihe Old Shiiv'C
"Yes. And I am sure he would not be surprised
if I did not retum for a long time."
"Are you quite sure, SheilaT'
"Yes, I am quite sure."
"Very well. Now I sliall teil you what I am going
to do wiih you. I shall first go and bribe some
mercenaiy boatman to let us have one of those small
sailing boats committed to our own exclusive Charge.
I shall constitute you sliipper and pilol of the craft,
and hold you responsible for my safety. I shall
smoke a pipe to prepare me for whatever may be-
fall-^"
"Oh, no," Said Shea. "You must work very
hard; and I will see if you remeraber all that 1 taught
you in the Lewis. And if we can have some long
lines, we might get some fish. Will they pay more
than thirty Shillings for their long lines in this counlryl"
"I don't know," said Ingram. "I believe most of
the fishermen here live upon the Shillings they gel
from passers-by, after a little conversation about the
weather, and their hard lot in life; so that one doesn't.'
talk to them more than one can he!p." ;
"But why do they need the moneyt la there no-i
fish?"
"I don't know that, either, 1 suppose there is
some good fishing in the winter, and sometiroes in the,
Summer they get some big shoals of mackerei."
"It was a letter I had last week from the sister of
one of the mcn of the Nigheau-dulik, and she told nie
ihat they have been very lucky all through the last
on, and it was near six ihousand ng they got."
A FRIENB IN NEED. I3
"But I suppose they are hopelessly in debt to
some eurer or other up about Habost?"
" Oh no, not all. It is their own boat it is not
hired to them. And it is a very good boat what-
ever."
That unlucky "whatever" had slipped out inad-
vertently; the moment she had uttered it, she blushed,
and looked timidly towards her companion, fearing
that he had noticed it. He had not. How could she
have made such a blunderl she asked herseif. She
had been most particular about the avoidance of this
Word, even in the Lewis. The girl did not know that,
from the moment she had left the steps of the Old
Ship, in Company with this good friend of hers, she
had unconsciously fallen into much of her old pro-
nunciation and her old habit of speech; while Ingram,
much more familir with the Sheila of Borvabost and
Loch Roag than the Sheila of Notting Hill and Ken-
sington Gardens, did not perceive the difierence, but
was mightily pleased to hear her talk in any fashion
whatsoever.
By fair means or foul, Ingram managed to secure
a pretty little sailing vessel which lay at anchor out
near the New Pier; and when the pecuniary negotia*
tions were over, Sheila was invited to walk down over
the loose stones of the beach, and take command
of the craft The boatman was still very doubtful.
When he had pulled them out to the boat, however,
and put them on board, he speedily perceived that
this handsome young lady not only knew everything
that had to be done in the way of getting the small
vessel ready, but had a very smart and business-like
way of doing it It was very obvious that her com-
panion did not know half as much about the matt^t
r
tmSmk
XI ibe d; bot ke i
presem)]' tj wae icad^ to sO. He
in his bo2t to dme aexia nndi i^ewed
not a littk poczled to nndastand iriiae
bdy had pidud op. not nerd]' ha
boxts, bm tfae nafwxyia whidi sbe put
hands to hard woik, and tbe prompt aad
fshioo in wiA dtt aocamplished it.
"Shall I belay away tbe jib, ot recf
hatchwaysl" Ingrani called out to Sbca,
had fairly got ander waj,
She did not answer for a moiDent; she
walching, with a critical eye, the manner lo
boat an^wered to her wishes; and theo, w1
thing promised weil, and she was quite
&aid
"If you will take my place for a moment, and keep
a good look-out, 1 will put on my gloves."
She surrendered the tiller and the mainsaS sheet
into his catc, aod, with anolher glance ahead, pulled
out her gloves.
"You did not use to fear the salt water or the sun
on your hands, Shejla," said her companion.
"I do not now," she said, "but Frank would be
displeased to see my hands browa He has himself
such pretty hands."
What Ingram thought about Frank Lavender's
dclicale hands he was not going to say to his wife;
and, indeed, he was called upon al this moment lo
|et Sheila resume her posl, which she did with
of grcat satisfaction and content
And so they ran lightly ihrough the curling and
daiihing water on this brilliant day, caring little indeed'
fr the grcat town that lay away to leeward, with
A FRIEND IN NEED. . I5
hining terraces surmounted by a faint doud of smoke.
Here all the roar of carriages and people was unheard:
the only sound that accompanied their talk was the
splashing of the waves at the prow and the hissing and
gurgling of the water along the boat. The south wind
blew fresh and sweet around them, filling the broad,
white sails, and fluttering the small pennon up there
in the blue. It seemed strnge to Sheila that she
should be so much alone with so great a town close
by; that under the boom she could catch a glimpse
of the noisy Parade without hearing any of its noise.
But there, away to wind ward, there was no more trace
of city life only the great blue sea, with its waves
flowing on towards them from out of the far horizon,
and with here and there a pale ship just appearing on
the line where the sky and ocean met.
"Well, Sheila, how do you like to be on the sea
again?" said Ingram, getting out his pipe.
"Oh, very well. But you must not smoke, Mr. In-
gram; you must attend to the boat"
"Don't you feel at home in her yetl" he asked.
"I am not afraid of her," said Sheila, regarding
the lines of the small craft with the eye of a ship-
builder, "but she is very narrow in the beam, and she
carries too much sail for so small a thing. I suppose
they have not any squalls on this coast, where you
have no hls, and no Narrows to go through."
"It doesn't remind you of Lewis, does itl" he said,
filling his pipe all the same.
"A little out there it does," she said, tuming to
the broad piain of the sea; "but it is not much that is
in this country that is like the Lewis sometimes I
think I shall be a stranger when I go back to the
he
L "
r SD
16 A rnivcEBS or Timti!.
Lewis, and the people will scarcely know me, and
everylhing will be changed."
He looked at her for a second or two. Then he
laid down his pipe, which had not been Ht, and said
to her, gravely
"I want you to teil me, Sheila, why you have got
into a habit lately of talking about many things, and
especially about your home in the north, in that sad
way. You did not do that when you came to London
first; and yet it was then that you might have been
Struck and shocked by the difference. You had no
home-sickness for a long time but is it home-sick-
ness, Sheila?"
How was she to teil him) For an instant she was
on the point of giving him all her confidence; and
theo, somehow or other, it occurred to her that she
would be wTonging her husband in seeking such syro-
pathy from a friend as she had been especting and
expecting in vain from him.
"Perhaps it is home-sickness," she said, in a low
voice, while she pretended to be busy tightening
up the mainsail sheet "I should like to see Borva
again."
But you don't want to live there all your lifel"
aid. "You know that would be unreasonable, I
Sheila, even if your iiusband could manage it, and I J
don't suppose he can. Surely your papa does not es- J
pect you to go and live in Lewis alwaysJ"
5," she said, eagerly. "You must not think|
ly papa wishes anything like that. It will be much p
leas than that he was tbinking of when he used to h
speak to Mr. Lavender about it. And I do not wish ;
\3i live in the Lewis always I have no dislikc i
''1 -none at all only that that "
A FRIEND IN NEED. l^
And here she paused.
"Come, Sheila," he said, in the old pateraal way
to which she had been accustomed to yield up all her
own wishes in the old days of their friendship, "I want
you to be frank with me, and teil me wliat is the
matter. I know there is something wrong; I have seen
it for some time back. Now you know I took the re-
sponsibility of your marriage on my Shoulders; and I
am responsible to you, and to your papa and to my-
self , for your comfort and happiness. Do you under-
standl"
She still hesitated grateful in her inmost heart;
but still doubtful as to what she should do.
"You look on me as an intermeddler," he said,
with a smile.
"No, noi" she said, "you have always been our
best friend."
"But I have intermeddled none the less don't
you remember when I told you I was prepared to ac-
cept the consequencesi"
It seemed so long a time since then!
"And once having begun to intermeddle, I can't
stop, don't you seel Now, Sheila, you'll be a good
little girl, and do what I teil you. You'U take the
boat a long way out, we'U put her head round, take
down the sails, and let her tumble about and drift for
a time, tili you teil me all about your troubles, and
then we'll see what can be done."
She obeyed in silence; with her face grown grave
enough in anticipation of the coming disclosures. She
knew that the first plunge into them would be keenly
painfiil to her; but there was a feeling at her heart
that, this penance over, a great relief would be at
A Primat f TkuU. 11. 2
t8 A PRINCE6S OF TBVLE.
Iiand. She trusLed tliis man as she would have trusted
her own fathcr. She knew that Ihere was nothiog on
earth he would not atEempt, if he fancied it would
help her. And she knew, too, that having experienced
so much of his great uaselfishness and kindness and
thoughtfulness, she was ready to obey hitn implicitly,
in anything that he could assure her was right for her
to do.
How far away seemed the white cliffs now, and
ihe faint green downs above theml Brighton, lying
farther to the west, had become dim and yellow, and
over it a cloud of smoke lay chick and brown in the
svinlight. A mere streak showed the line of the King's
Road and all its carriages and people; the beach
benealh could just be made out by tbe white dots of
the bathing-machines. The brown fishing-boats seemed
to be close in shore; the two piers were foreshortened
into sroall dusky masses marking the beginning of the
sea. And then, fram these distant and faintly-defined
objecta, out here to the side of the small whitc-and-
pink boat, that laylightly inthelapping water, stretched
that great and moving network of waves, with here
and ihere a sharp gleam of white foam curling over
amid the dark blue-green.
Ingram took his seat by Sheila's side, so that hc
should not have lo look in her downcast face; and
then, with some little preliminary nervousness and,
hesitatioD, the girl told her story. She told ittosym-'
pathetic ears: and yet Ingram having pary guessed
how raatters stood, and anxious, perhaps, to know
whether much of her trouble might not be merely thc'
result of fancies which could be reasoned and ex-'
plained away ^ was careful to avoid anything likel
cojTob oratio n. He let her talk in her own simplel
A FRIEND IN NEED. IQ
and artless way; and the girl spoke to him, after a
little while, with an eamestness which showed how
deeply she feit her position. At the very outset she
told him that her love for her husband had never
altered for a moment that all the prayer and desire
of her heart was that they two might be to each other
as she had at one time hoped they would be, when
he got to know her better. She went over all the
Story of her coming to London, of her first experiences
there, of the conviction that grew upon her that her
husband was somehow disappointed with her and only
anxious now that she should conform to the ways and
habits of the people with whom he associated. She
spoke of her efforts to obey his wishes, and how heart-
sick she was with her failures, and of the dissatisfac-
tion which he showed. She spoke of the people to
whom he devoted his life; of the way in which he
passed his time; and of the impossibility of her show-
ing him, so long as he thus remained apart from her,
the love she had in her heart for him, and the longing
for sympathy which that love involved. And then she
came to the question of Mrs. Lorraine; and here it
seemed to Ingram she was trying at once to put her
husband's conduct in the most favourable light, and
to blame herseif for her unreasonableness. Mrs. Lor-
raine was a pleasant companion to him: she could
talk cleverly and brightly; she was pretty, and she
knew a large number of his friends. Sheila was
anxious to show that it was the most natural thing in
the World that her husband, Unding her so out of
communion with his ordinary surroundings, should
make an especial friend of this graceful and fascinat-
ing woman. And if, at times, it hurt her to be left
I He
L:
20 A TRINCESS OF THLE,
alone but here the girl broke down somewhat, and
Ingram pretended not to know tliat she was crying.
These were Strange things to be told to a man;
and ihey were difficult to answer, But out of these
reve!ations which rather took the form of a cry than
of any distinct Statement he formed a notton of
Sheila's position sufficiently exact; and the more he
looked at it, the more alarmed and pained he grew,
for he knew more of her than her husband did. He
knew the latent force of character that undertay all
her submissive gentleness. He knew the keen sense
of pride her Highland birth had given her; and he
feared what might happen if tJiis sensitive and proud
heart of hers were driven into rebelHon by some
poHsibly uintentional wrong. And this high-spirited,
fearless, honour-loving girl who was gentlc and
obedieot, not through any timidity or lirapness of cha-
racter, but because she considered it her duty to be
gentle and obedient was to be cast aside, and have
her tenderest feelings outraged and wounded, for the
sake of an unscrupulous, shallow-brained woman of
fashion who was not fit to be Sheila's wairing-maid
Ingram had never seen Mrs. Lorraine; but he had
formed his own opinion of her. The opinion, based
upon nothing, was wholly wrongj but it served to in-
crease, if that were possible, his sympathy with Sheita,
and his resolve to inlerfere on her behalf at whatever
cost,
"Sheila," he said, gravely putting his band on her
Shoulder, as if she were still the little girl who used
to nm wild with him about the Borva rocks, "you are
a Eood woman."
He added to himself that Lavender knew little
(he valiie of the wife he had got; but he dared noi
say that to Sheila, who would suffer no iniputation
against her husband to be uttered in her ptesence,
however true it might be, or however much she had
cause to know it to be true.
"And after all," he said, in a lighter voice, "I
think I can do something to mend all this. I will aay
for frank Lavender that he is a thoroughly good fetlow
at heait; and that when you appeal to him, and put
things fairly before him, and show him what he ought
to do, there is not a more honourable and straight-
forward man in the worid. I believe, if I wanled
inoney this moment, aod il could only be got that
way, he would live for a raonth on bread and water
to give it me. He is not selfish, Sheila, but he is
thoughtless. He has been led away by these people,
you know, and has not been aware of what you were
Buffering, When I put the matter before him, you
will see it will be all right; and I hope to persuade
him to give up this constant idiing, and take to his
work, and have something to live for. I wish you and
I together could get him to go away from London
Itogether get him to take to serious landscape paint-
ing on some wild coast the Galway coast, for es-
ample "
"Why not the Lewisl" said Sheila, her heart tum-
ing to the north as naturally as the needle,
"Or the Lewis. And I should Hke you and him
to live away from hoteis, and hixuries, and all such
things; and he would work all day, and you would
do the CQoking, in some small cotlage you could rent,
you know "
"You make me so happy in thinking of that," she
id, with her eyes growing wet again.
"And why should he not do so) Tliere is nolhing
romantic or idyllic about it; but a, good, wholesonie,
piain sort of fe, thal is likely to make an honest
painter of him, and bring both of yon some well-eamed
money. And you mighl have a boal like this
"We are drifting too far in," said Sheila, suddenly
rising. "Shall we go back nowl"
"By all means," he said; and so the small boat
was put under canvas again, and was soon making
way through the breczy water.
"Well, all this seems simple enough, doesn't itJ"
said Ingram.
"Yes," said the girl, with her face ful! of hope.
"And then, of course, when you are quite com-
fortable logether, and making heaps of money, you
can tum round and abuse nie, and say I made all the
mischief to begin with."
"Did we do so before, when you were very kind
to us!" she said, in a low voice.
"Oh, but that was different To interfere on be-
half of two young foJks who are in love with each
other is dangerous; but to interfere between two people
who are married that is a certain quarreL I wonder
what you will say when you are scolding me, Sheila,
and bidding me get out of the house. I have never
heard you scold. Is it Gaelic or English you preferf
"I prefer whichever can say the nicest things to
niy very good friends, and teil them how grateful I
am for their kindness to me."
"Ah, well, we'll see."
When they got back to shore it was half-past one.
"You will come and have some luncheon with us,"
said Sheila, when they had gone up the Steps and ii
the King's Road.
"Will that lady be there]"
IS andintn
M
A FRICND IN NEED. 23
"Mrs. Lorrainel Yes."
"Then TU come some other time.*'
"But why not nowl" said Sheila. "It is not neces-
sary that you will see us only to speak about those
things we have been talking overl"
"Oh no, not at alL If you and Mr. Lavender
were by yourselves I should come at once."
"And you are afraid of Mrs. Lorrainel" said Sheila,
with a smile. "She is a very nice lady indeed you
have no cause to dislike her/'
"But I don't want to meet her, Sheila, that is all,"
he said; and she knew well, by the precision of his
manner, that there was no use trying to persuade him
further.
He walked along to the hotel with her, meeting a
considerable stream of fashionably-dressed folks on
the way; and neither he nor she seemed to remember
that his costume a blue pilot-jacket, not a little wom
and soiled with the salt water, and a beaver hat that
had seen a good deal of rough weather in the High-
lands was much more comfortable than elegant He
said to her, as he left her at the hotel
"Would you mind telling Lavender I shall drop
in at half-past three, and that I expect to see him in
the coffee-roomi I sha'n't keep him five minutes."
She looked at him for a moment; and he saw that
she knew what his appointment meant, for her eyes
were fll of gladness and gratitude. He went away
pleased at heart that she put so much trust in him.
And in this case, he should be able to reward that
confidence; for Lavender was really a good sort of
fellow, and would at once be sorry for the wrong he
had unintentionally done, and be only too anxious to
set it right He ought to leave Brighton at. once, and
24 1 I'UINCESS OF THULE.
London too. He ought to go away into the counlry,
or by the seaside, and begin working hard, to earn
money and self-respecl at the aame time; and then, in
this friendly solitude, he would get lo know some-
Ihing about Sheila's character, and begin to perceive
how much more valnable were these genuine quaties
of heart and mind tban any social graces such aa
might lighten up a dull drawing-room. Had La-
vender yet leamt to know the worth of an honest
woraan's perfect love and unquestioning devotioni Lei
these things be put before him, and he would go and
do the right thing , as he had many a time done be*
fore, in obedience to the lecturing of his friend.
Ingram called at half-past three, and went into the
coffee-room. There was no one in the long, large
room; and he sat down at one of the sraall tables by
the Windows, from which a bit of lawn, the King's
Road, and the sea beyond were visible. He had
scarceiy taken his seat when Lavender came in.
"Hallo, Ingram, how are you?" he said, in his
freest and friendliest way. "Won't you come up-
stairsl Have you had lunch? Why did you go to
the Shipr'
"I always go to the Ship," he said. "No, thank
you, I won't go upstairs."
"You are a most unaociable sort of brte!" said
Lavender, frankiy. "I shall paint a portrait of you
some day, in the character of Diogenes, or Apemantus,
or some one like that. 1 should like to do a portrait
of you for Sheila how pleased she would bei Wil(
you take a glass of sherryl"
"No, thank you."
"Will you liave a game at billiardsl"
A FRIEND IN NEED. 2$
"No, thank you. You don't mean to say you
would play billiards on such a day as this)"
"It w a fine day, isn't itl" said Lavender, tuming
to look at the sunlit road and the blue sea. "By the
way, Sheila teils me you and she were out sailing this
moming. It must have been very pleasant especially
for her, for she is mad about such things. What a
curious girl she is, to be sure! Don't you think so?"
"I don't know what you mean by curious," said
Ingram, coldly.
"Well, you know, strnge odd unlike other
people in her ways and her fancies. Did I teil you
about my aunt taking her to see some friends of hers
at Norwoodi Noi Well, Sheila had got out of the
house somehow (I suppose their talking did not in-
terest her), and when they went in search of her, they
found her in the cemetery, crying like a child."
"What about r'
"Why," said Lavender, with a smile, "merely be-
cause so many people had died. She had never seen
anything like that before you know the small church-
yards up in Lewis, with their inscriptions in Nor-
wegian, and Danish, and German. I suppose the first
sight of all the white stones at Norwood was too
much for her."
"Well, I don't see much of a joke in that," said
Ingram.
"Who said there was any joke in itl" cried Laven-
der, impatiently. "I never knew such a cantankerous
fellow as you are. You are always fancying I am
finding fault with Sheila. And I never do anything
of the kind. She is a very good girl indeed. I have
every reason to be satisfied with the way our mar-
riage has tumed out"
26 A PRINCESS OF THDLE.
"Has shf?"
The words were not important; but there '
something in the tone in which they were spoken l
suddenly checked Frank Lavender's careless flow of
Speech. He looked at Ingram for a moment, with
sonne surprise, and then he said
"What do you meanl"
"Well, I will teil you what I mean," said Ingram,
slowly. "Ic is an awkward thing for a man to inter-
fere between husband and wife, I am aware. He gets
something eise than ihanks for his pains, ordinary;
but sometimes it has lo be done, thanlcs or kick.
Now, you know, Lavender, I had a good deal t
with helping forward your marriage in the north; and
I don't remind you of that to claim anything in the
way of consideration, but to explain why I think I
am called on to speak to you now."
Lavender was at once a little frightened and :
little irritated. He half guessed what might be Coming
from the slow and precise manner in which In^am
talked. That form of speech had vexed him many a
time before; for he would rafher have had any amount
of wild contention, and bandying about of reproaches,
than the calm, unimpassioned and sententious setting i
forth of his shortcomings to which this sallow little I
man was perhaps too much addicted. i
"I suppose Sheila has been complaining to you, i
then!" said Lavender, coldly. 1
"You may suppose what you like," said Ingrara, (
quietly; "but it would be a good deal better if you |
would listen to me patlently, and deal in a common- '
sense fashion with what I have got to say. It is
nothing very desperate. Nothing has happened that.
is not of easy remedy; while the remedy would Icavs^
A FRIEND IN NEED. 2^
you and her In a much better position, both as re-
gards your own estimation of yourselves, and the
opinion of your friends."
"You are a little roundabout, Ingram," saidLaven-
der, "and omate. But I suppose all lectures begin
so. Go on."
Ingram laughed.
"If I am too formal, it is because I don't want to
make mischief by any exaggeration. Look here. A
long time before you were married, I warned you that
Sheila had very keen and sensitive notions about the
duties that people ought to perform about the dignity
of laboiu: about the proper occupations of a man,
and so forth. These notions you may regard as
romantic and absurd, if you like; but you might as
well try to change the colour of her eyes as attempt
to alter any of her beliefs in that direction "
''And she thinks that I am idle and indolent be-
cause I don't care what a washerwoman pays for her
candles," said Lavender, with impetuous contempt.
"Well, be it so. She is welcome to her opinion. But
if she is grieved at heart because I can't make hob-
nailed boots, it seems to me that she might as well
come and complain to myself, instead of going and
detailing her wrongs to a third person, and calling
for his sympathy in the character of an injured wife."
For an instant the dark eyes of the man opposite
him blazed with a quick fire for a sneer at Sheila
was worse than an insult to himself; but he kept quite
calm, and said
"That, unfortunately, is not what is troubling
her "
Lavender rose abruptly, took a tum up and down
the empty room, and said
"If there is anylhing the matter, I prefer to hcar
it from herseif. It is not respectful to me, ihat she
should call in a third person to humour her whims
and fancies "
"Whitns and fancies!" saJd Ingram, with that dark
light retuming to his eyes. "Do you know what you
are talking about? Do you know that, while you a
living upon the charity of a woman you despise, and
dawdling about the skirts of another womaa who
laughs at you, you are breaking the heart of a girl
who has not her equal in England! ^Vllinls and
fancies! Good God! I wonder how she ever could
He stopped, but the mischief was done. These
were not prudent words to come from a man who
wished to step in as mediator between husband and
wife^perhaps they were as unjust as they were
prudent; but Ingram's blaze of wrath kindied by
what he considered the insulTerable insolence of La-
vender in thus speaking of Sheila had swept all no-
tions of prudence from it. Lavender, indeed,
much cooler than he was, and said, with an afTectation
of carelessness
"I am sony you should vex yourself so much fl
about Sheila. One wouM think you had had the am- 1
bition yourself, at some time or other, to play the I
part of husband to her; and doubtless then you would |
have made sure that all her idie fancies were gratified j
As it is, 1 was about to relieve you from the tiouble [
of further expjanation by saying that I was quite com- J
petent to manage my own affairs; and that if Sheila;
has any complaint to make, she must make it to me."
Ingram rose, and was silent for a moment ;
"Luvender," he said, "it does not matter much'
EXCHANGES. 29
whether you and I quarrel I was prepared for that,
in any case. But I ask you to give Sheila a chance
of telling you what I had intended to teil you."
"Indeed, I shall do nothing of the sort I never
invite confidences. When she wishes to teil me any-
thing, she knows I am ready to listen. But I am quite
satisfied with the position of affairs as they are at
present."
"God help you, then," said his friend, and went
away, scarcely daring to confess to himself how dark
the future looked.
CHAPTER IL
Exchanges.
Just as Frank Lavender went downstairs to meet
Ingram, a letter which had been forwarded from London
was brought to Sheila. It bore the Lewis postmark,
and she guessed it was from Duncan, for she had told
Main to ask the. tall keeper to write, and she knew he
would hasten to obey her request at any sacrifice of
comfort to himself. Sheila sat down to read the letter
in a happy frame of mind. She had every confidence
that all her troubles were about to be removed now
that her good friend Ingram had come to her husband;
and here was a message to her from her home, that
seemedy even before she read it, to beg of her to come
thither, light-hearted and joyous. This was what she
read:
"BORVABOST, THB ISLAMD OP LbwS,
" tJu ihird Ang,, 18.
^HoNOURED Mrs. Lavender, It waz Mairi waz
sayin that you will want me to write to you, bit J am
not good at the writen whatever, and it waz ayeax^
30 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
since I was writen to Amerika, to John Ferkason that
kept the tea-shop in Stonioway, and was trooned in
Coming home the vena last year before this. It waz
Mairi will say you will like a letter as well as any one
that waz goin to Amerika, for the news and the
things, and you will be as far away frora us as if you
waz living in Amerika or Glaska. But there is not
rauch news, for the lads they hev all pulled up the
boats, and they are away to Wick, and Sandy McDougal
that waz living by Loch Langavat he will be going
too, for he waz up at the sheings when Mrs. Pater-
son's lasses waz there with the cows, and it waz Jeanie
the youngest and him made it up, and he haz twenty-
five pounds in the banlc, which is a good Ihing too
mirover for the young couple. It waz many a one
waz sayin when the crows and the sheep waz come
home frora the sheings that never afore waz Miss
Sheila away from Loch Roag when the cattle wonld
be swimmin across the loch Co the island; and I will
say to many of them verra well you will wait and yoil
will See Miss Sheila back again in the Lews and it'
wazna allwas you would lif away from your own homci
where you was bom and the people will know yi
firom the one year to the next John McNicol ol
Habost he will be verra bad three moolhs or twi
months ago, and we waz thinkin he will die, and hitQ'
with a wife and five bairns too, and four cows and sl
cart, but the doctor took a great dale of blood from'
him, and he is now verra well whatever, though wakel/j
on the legs. It would hev been a bad thing if Mr.
McNicol was dead, for he will be verra good al pentiaj
a door, and he haz between fifteen pounds and ten,
pounds in the bank at Stomoway, and four cows tofff
and a cait, and he is a ferra religious man, and ha^;
EXCHANGES. 3I
great skill o the psalm-tunes, and he toesna get trunk
now more as twice or as three times in the two weeks.
It was his dochter Betsy, a verra fine lass, that waz
come to Borvabost, and it waz the talk among many
that Alister-nan-Each he waz thinkin of makin up to
her, but there will be a great laugh all over the island,
and she will be verra angry and say she will not have
him no if his house had a door of silfer to it for she
will hev no one that toesna go to the Caithness fishins
wi the other lads. It waz blew verra hard here the
last night or two or three. There iss a great deal of
salmon in the rivers; and Mr. Mackenzie he will be
going across to Grimersta, the day after to-mprrow,
or the next day before that, and the English gen-
tlemen hev been there more as two or three weeks,
and they will be getting verra good sport whatever.
Mairi she will be writen a letter to you to-morrow,
Miss Sheila, and she will be telling you all the news
of the house. Mairi waz sayin she will be goin to
London when the harvest was got in, and Scarlett
will say to her that no one will let her land on the
Island again if she toesna bring you back with her to
the island and to your own house. If it waz not too
much trouble, Miss Sheila, it would be a proud day
for Scarlett if you waz send me a line or two lines to
say if you will be coming to the Lews this summer
or before the winter is over whatever. I remain, Ho-
nonred Mrs. Lavender, your obedient servant,
"Dung AN Macdonald."
"This summer or winter," said Sheila to herseif,
with a happy light on her face; "why not nowl"
\Vhy should she not go downstairs to the coffee-
room of the hotel, and place this invitation in t\\&
32 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
hands of her husband and his friend? Would not its
garrulous simplicity recall to both of them the island
they used to find so pkasantl Would not they
suddenly resolve to leave behind them London and
its ways and people, even this monotonous sea out
there, and speed away northward tili they came in
sight of the great and rolling Minch, with its majestic
breadth of sky and its pale blue islands l)^ng fai
away at the horizont Then the happy landing at
Stomoway her father, and Duncan, and Mairi all on
the quay the rapid drive over to Loch Roag, and
the first glimpse of the rocky bays, and clear water,
and white sand about Borva and Borvabost! And
Sheila would once more having cast aside this cum-
brous attire that she had to change so often, and
having got out that neat and simple costume that
was so good for Walking, or driving, or sailing be
proud to wait upon her guests, and help Mairi in her
household ways, and bave a pretty table ready for ihe
gentlemen when they retumed from the shoocing.
Her husband came up the holel stairs and entered-
the room. She rose to meet him, with the open Icttei
in her band.
"Sheila," he said {and the light slowly died away
from her face), "I have something to ask of you."
She knew by the sound of his voice that she had
nothing to hope; it was not the first time she had
been disappointed, and yet this time it seemed especiaUy
bitter somehow. The awakening from these illusions
was sudden. |
She did not answer, so he said, in the same met-
sured voice^
"I have to ask that you will have henceforth no J
EXCHANGES. 2i
comraunication with Mr. Ingram; I do not wish him
to come to the hause."
She stood for a momenl, appareny not under-
standing the meaning of what he said. Then, when
the fll force of this decision and request came upon
her, a quick colour sprang ta her face the cause of
which, if it had been revealed to him in words, would
have considerably astonished her husband. But the
moment of doubt, of suiprise, of inward Indignation,
was soon over. She cast down her eyes, and said
meekly
"Very well, dear."
It was now bis tum to be astonished, and mortified
as weil He could not have believed it possible that
she should so calmty acquiesce in the dismissal of
one of her dearest friends. He had expected a more
or less angry protest, if not a distinct refusal, which
would have given him an opportunity for displaying
the injuries he conceived himself to have suffered at
their hands. Why had she not come to himselfl This
man Ingram was presuming on his aocient friendship,
and OD the part he had taken in forwarding the mar-
riage up in Borva. He had always, moreover, been
EOmcwhat too much of the schoolmaster with his
severe judgments, his sententious fashion of criticis-
ing and warning people, and his readiness to prove
Ihe whole world wrong in order to show himself to be
right All ihese and many other things Lavender
meant to say to Sheila, so soon as she had protested
against his forbiddiog Ingram to come any more lo
Ihe house. But there was no protest Sheila did not
even seem surprised. She went back to her seat by
Ihe window, folded up Duncan's letter, and put it in
her pocket; and then she turned to look at the sea.
r
34 A PRINCESS OF THLB.
Lavender regarded her for a moment, apparentlf
doubiing whelher he should himself prosecute the
subject; then he turaed and left the room.
Sheila did not cry or otherwise seek to com-
passionate and console herseif. Her husband had toU
her to do a certain thing; and she would do it
Perhaps she had been iraprudent in having confided
in Mr. Ingram; and, if so, it was right that she should
be punished. But the regret and pain that lay deep
in her heart was that Ingram should have suffered
tiirough her, and that she had no opportunity of teil-
ing him that, though they might not see each other,
she would never forget her friendship for him,
cease to be grateful to him for his unceasing and
generous kindness to her,
Next moming Lavender was summoned to London
by a telegram which announced that his aunl was
seriously ill. He and Sheila got ready at or
by a foienoon train, had some brief luncheon at home,
and then went down to see the old lady in Kensington
Gore. During their journey, Lavender had been raiet
more courteous and kindly towards Sheila than was
his wont. Was he pleased that she had so readity
obeyed him in this matter of giving up about the
only friend she had in London? Or was he moved
by some Visitation of compunctioni Sheila tried to
show that she was grateful for his kindness; but there
was that between them which could not be removed
by Chance phrases or attentions. Mrs. Lavender wus,
in her own room. Paterson brought word that she,
wanted to see Sheila first and alone; so Lavendi
down in the gloomy drawing-room by the window,J
and watched the people riding and driving past, andf
the sunshine oa the dusty green trees in the Faifc.
EXCHANGES. 35
^'Is Frank Lavender below)" said the thin old
woman, who was propped up in bed, with some scarlet
garment around her that made her resemble more
than ever the cockatoo of which Sheila had thought
on first seeing her.
" Yes," Said Sheila.
"I want to see you alone ^I can't bear him dawdling
about a room, and staring at things, and sa3ring no-
thing. Does he speak to youl"
Sheila did not wish to enter into any controversy
about the habits of her husband, so she said:
"I hope you will see him before he goes, Mrs.
Lavender. He is very anxious to know how you are;
and I am glad to find you looking so well. You do
not look like an invalid at all."
"Oh, Fm not going to die yet," said the little dried
old woman, with the harsh voice, the staring eyes,
and the tightly-twisted grey hair. "I hope you didn't
come to read the Bible to me you wouldn't find one
about in any case, I should think. If you like to sit
down and read the sa3rings of the Emperor Marcus
Aurelius, I should enjoy that; but I suppose you
are too busy thinking what dress youll wear at my
funeraL"
"Indeed I was thinking of no such thing/' said
Sheila, indignantly, but feeling all the same that
the hard, glittering, expressionless eyes were watch-
ing her.
**Do you think I believe you!" said Mrs. Lavender.
"Bah! I hope I am able to recognize the facts of life.
If you were to die this aftemoon, I should get a black
silk trimmed with crape the moment I got on my feet
again, and go to your funeral in the ordinary way. I
36 A PRINCESS OF THULS.
hope you will pay me the same respect. Do yoa think
I am afraid to speak of these things!"
"Why should you speak of themi" said Shefla,
despairingly.
"Because it does you good lo coniemplate the
worst that can befall you; and if it does not happen,
you may rejoice. And it will happen. I know that
I shall be lying in this bed, with a half-a-dozen of
you round about trymg to cry, and wondering which
will have the courage to tum and go out of the roocn
first. Then there will be the funeral day, and Paier-
Eon will be carefu! about the blinds, and go aboul
the house on her tip*toes, as if I were likely to hearl
Then there will be a pretty service up in the cemetery,
and a. man who never saw me will speak of bis dear
sister departed; and then you'll all go home and have
your dinner. Am I afraid of itl "
"Why should you talk like thalV said Shea,
piteously. "You are not going to die. You dis-
tress yourself and others by thinking of these horribie
"My dear child, there is nothing horribie in nature.
Everything is part of the universal System which you
should recognize and accept, If you had trained your-
self now, by the study of philosophical works, to know
how helpless you are to alter the facts of life, and ho
it is the best wisdom to be prepared for the worsl,
you would find nothing horribie in thinking of joat
own funeral. You are not looking well."
Shea was startled by the suddenness of the :
nouncement.
"Perhaps I am a little tired with the travelliog
have done to-day."
"Is Frank Lavender kind to youl"
EXCHANGES. 37
What was she to say, with those two eyes scanning
her facel
^It is too soon to expect him to be anything eise/'
she Said, with an effort at a smile.
^Ahl So you are beginning to talk in that wayt
I thought you were fll of sentimental notions of life
when you came to London. It is not a good place
for nurturing such things."
'^It is not," said Sheila, surprised into a sigh.
'^Come nearer. Don't be afraid I shall bite you.
I am not so ferocious as I look."
Sheila rose and went doser to the bedside; and
the old woman stretched out a lean and withered
hand to her.
**! I thought that that silly fellow wasn't behaving
well to you "
'^I will not listen to you/' said Sheila, suddenly
withdrawing her hand, while a quick colour leapt to
her face; "I will not listen to you if you speak of my
husband in that way."
"I will speak of him any way you like. Don't get
into a rage. I have known Frank Lavender a good
deal longer than you have. What I was going to say
is this that if I thought that he was not behaving
well to you, I would play him a trick. I would leave
my money, which is all he has got to live on, to you;
and when I died he would find himself dependent on
you for every farthing he wanted to spend."
And the old woman laughed with very little of
the weakness of an invalid in the look of her face.
But Sheila, when she had mastered her surprise, and
resolved not to be angry, said calmly
^'Wbatever I have, whatever I might have, that be-
longs to my husband, not to me."
38 A PRIXOSS OV TBCIX.
"Now yoa peak like a sensible giri," saJd Un.
Lsrender. "Tbt is tfae misfoitiiae of a wife, tbat
fae cannot keep her 01m monejr to benelL Bot ieie
are meaiu by wbicb tbe law may be defeated, iny
dear. I have been thinkdng it over; I have been
speaking of it to Mr. Ingram; (ot I hare suspected for
some titne that my oephew, Mr. Frank, was not be-
having himself."
"Mts. Larender," said Sheila, with a face too proud
and indignant for lears, "yoa do not understand m&
No one has the right to imagine anything against my
huaband, and to seek to punish bim through me. And
wtien I Said that eveiything thal I have beloi^ ta
him, I was not thinking of the !aw no but only this:
thal everything that I have, or might have, woold be-
long to him, as I myself beJong to him, of my owa
free will and gift; and 1 would have no money, or
anything eise ihat was not entirely his."
"You are a fool."
"Perhapa," said Sheila, straggling to repren he*
tears.
"Whal if I were to leave every farthing of my
property to a hospitall Wherc would Frank Lavender
be thent"
"He could eam his own hving without any such
help," said Sheila, proudly: for she had never yet
given up the hope that her husband would fulfil the
fair promise of an earlier time, and win great renown
for himself in striving to please her, as he had many
a time vowed he would do.
"He has taken great care to conceal his powers fil-j
that way," said Ihe old woman, with a sneer.
"And if he has, whose fault is itl" the girl saidrj
warmly. " Who has kept him in idleness but yourseltf
EXCHANGES. 39
And now you blame him for it I wish he had never
had any of your money I wish he were never to have
any more of it "
And then Sheila stopped, with a terrible dread
falling over her. What had she not saidl The pride
of her race had carried her so fax, and she had given
expression to all the tumult of her heart; but had she
not betrayed her duty as a wife, and grievously com-
promised the interests of her husbandf And yet the
indignation in her bosom was too strong to admit of
her retracting those fatal phrases, and begging forgive-
ness. She stood for a moment, irresolute; and she
knew that the invalid was regarding her curiously, as
though she were some wild animal, and not an or-
dinary resident in Bayswater.
''You are a little mad, but you are a good girl,
and I want to be friends with you. You have in you
the spirit of a dozen Frank Lavenders."
"You will never make friends with me by speaking
ill of my husband/' said Sheila, with the same proud
and indignant look.
"Not when he ill-uses youl"
"He does not ill-use me. What has Mr. Ingram
been saying to youV
The sudden question would certainly have brought
about a disclosure, if any were to have been made;
but Mrs. Lavender assured Sheila that Mr. Ingram
had told her nothing, that she had been forming her
own condusions, and that she still doubted that they
were right
"Now sit down and read to me. You will find
Marcus Aurelius on the top of those books."
"Frank is in the drawing-room " observed Sheila,
mildly.
40 A FKINCESS Or TBULE.
"He can wait," said tfae old woman, shaiply.
"Yes, but yoa camiot expcct me to keep him
wailing," with a sme which did not coaceal her veiy
denite porpose.
"Then ring, and bid him come up, You will sood
get rid of ihose absurd sentimeDts."
Sheila rang Ihe bell, and sent Mrs. Palerson down
for Lavender; but she did not betal:e herseif to Mar-
cus Aurelius. She waited a few minutes, and theo
her husband made his appearance, whereupon she sat
down, and Icft to him the agreeable duty of talking
with this loothless old heatbeo about funerals and
lingering death.
"Well, Aunt Lavender, I am sony to hear you
have been l, but I suppose you are getting all right
agaiD, to judge by yom looks."
"I am not aearly as ill as you espected."
"I wonder you did not say 'hoped'!" remaiked
Lavender, carelessly. "You are always attributing the
raost charitable feelings to your fellow-creatures."
"Frank Lavender," Said the old lady, who was a
little pleased by this bit of flattery, "if you came here
to make yourself impertinent and disagreeable, you
can go downstairs again. Your wife and I get on veiy
well without you."
"I am glad to hear it," he saidj "I suppose you
have been telling her what is the matter with you."
"I have not. I don't know. I have had a pain
in the head, and two fits, and I dare say the neit will
carry me off. The doctors won't teil me anything
about it, so I suppose it is serious "
"Nonsensel" cried Lavender. "Serious! To look
at you, one would say you never had been ill in
your life,"
EXCHANGES. 4 t
"Don't teil stories, Frank Lavender. I know I look
like a corpse; but I don't mind it, for I avoid the
looking-glass, and keep the spectade for my friends.
I expect the oexl fit will kill me."
"I'll teil you what it is, Aunt Lavender; if you
wouid only get up and come with us for a drive in
the Park, you would find there was nothing of an
invalid abotst you; and we should take you horae to
a quiet dinner at Notting Hill, and Shea would sing
to you all the evening, and to-morrow you would re-
ceive the doctors in state in your drawing-room, and
teil them you were going for a month to Malvem."
"Your husband has a fine imagination, my dear,"
Said Mrs. Lavender to Sheila. "It is a pity he puts
it to no use. Now I shall le( both of you go. Three
breathing in this room are too many for the cubic
feet of air it contains. Frank, bring over those scales
and put them on ihe table; and send Palerson to me
as you go out."
And so they went downstairs, and out of the house.
Just as they stood on tlie sieps, looking for a hansora,
a young lad came forward, and shook hands with
Lavender, glancing rather nervo usly at Sheila.
"Well, Mosenberg," said Lavender, "you've come
back from Leipsic at last. We got your card when
we C2ine home tbis moming from Brighton. Let me
tntroduce you to my wife."
The boy looked at the beauliful face before him
with something of distant wonder and reverence in
bis regard. Sheila had heard of the lad before of
the THendelssohn that was to be and liked his appear-
aace at rst sighL He was a rather Jiandsome boy
of (burtcen or fifleen, of the fair Jew type, with large,
doric expressive eyes, and long, wavy, light-brown hair.
boy j
lair.
42 PBINCBSS Of TSXflM. '
He spoke English fluently and well; his sllght Gerinan
accenl was, indeed, scarcely so distinct as Sheila's
Highland one; the chief peculiarity of his speaking
being a preference for short sentences, as if he were
afraid to venture upon elaborate English. He had
not addressed a dozen sentences to Sheila before she
had begun to have a liking for the lad; perhaps
account of his soft and musical voice; perhaps on
account of the respectful and almost wondering ad-
miration that dwelt in his eyes. He spoke to her as
if she were some Saint, who had but to smile to chann
and be wilder the humble worshipper al her shrine.
"I was inten ding to call upon Mrs. Lavender,
Madame," he said. "I heard that she was ill. Perhap&.
you can teil me if she is better."
"She seems to be very well to-day, and
good spirits," Sheila ans were d.
"Then I will not go in. Did you propose to takc
a walk in the Park, Madamel"
Laven der inwardly laughed at the magnificenC
audacity of the lad; and, seeing that Sheila hesitated,
humoured him by saying
"Well, we were thinking of calling od one or two
people before going home to dinner. But I haven't
seen you for a long time, Mosenberg; and I want yoil
to teil me how you succeeded at the Conservatoire.
If you like to walk with us for a bit, we can give you
something to eat at seven."
"That would be very pleasant for me," said the
boy, blushing somewhat, "if it does not incommode
you, Madame."
"Oh, no^ I hope you will come," said Sheila, ot
heartily; and so they set out for a walk throug h Kl
sington Gardens northward. '^
EXCHANGES. 43
Precious little did Lavender leam about Leipsic
during that walk. The boy devoted himself wholly
to Sheila. He had heard frequently of her, and he
knew of her coming from the wild and romantic
Hebrides; and he began to teil her of all the experi-
ments that composers had made in representing the
sound of seas, and storms, and winds howling through
cavems washed by the waves. Lavender liked music
well enough, and could himself play and sing a little;
but this enthusiasm rather bored him. He wanted to
know if the yellow wine was still as cool and clear as
ever down in the twilight of Auerbach's cellar, what
burlesques had lately been played at the theatre, and
whether such and such a beer-garden was still to the
fore; whereas he heard only analyses of overtures, and
descriptions of the uses of particular musical instru-
ments, and a wild rhapsody about moonlit seas, the
sweetness of French homs, the King of Thule, and a
dozen other matters.
"Mosenberg," he said, "before you go calling on
people, you ought to visit an English tailor. People
will think you belong to a German band."
"I have been to a tailor," said the lad, with a frank
laugh. "My parents, Madame, wish me to be quite
English that is why I am sent to live in London,
whe they are in Frankfort. I stay with some good
friends of mine, who are very musical, and they are
not annoyed by my practising, as other people would
be."
"I hope you will sing something to us this evening,"
said Sheila.
"I will sing and play for you all the evening,"
he said lightly, "until you are tired. But you must
teil me when you are tired; for who can teil how much
44 A PKINCeSS OF TBLE.
music will be enoaghl Somelimes two or ihree songs
are more than enough lo make people wish yon
away."
"You need have no fear of tiring me," said Sheila.
"Bui when you are tired, I will sing for you."
"Yes, of course you sing, Madame," he said, Cast-
ing doWQ his eyes; "I knew that when I saw you."
Sheila had got a sweetheart; and Lavender saw il,
and smiled good-naturedly. The awe and reverence
wtth which this lad regarded the beautiful woman
beside him were something new and odd in Kensing-
ton Gardens. Yet it was the way of those boys. He
had himself had his imaginative fits of worship, in
which some very ordinary young woman, who ate a
good breakfast, and spent an hour and a half in arrang-
ing her hair before going out, was regarded as sorae
beautiful goddess fresh risen from the sea, ordescended
from the clouds. Young Mosenberg was just at the
proper age for these foolish dreams. He would sing
soDgs to Sheila, and reveal to her that way of passion
of which he dare not otherwise speak. He would
compose pieces of music for her, and dedicate them
to her, and spend half his quaiterly money in having
them printed. He would grow to consider him, La-
vender, a heartless brte, and cherish dark notions of
poisoning him, but for the pain it might cause to her.
"I don't reraember whelher you smoke, Mosenberg,"
Lavender said, after dinner.
"Yes a cigaretle sometimes," said the lad; "bnl
if Mrs. Lavender is going away, perhaps she will let
me go into the drawing-room with her, There is that
Sonata of Muzio Clementi, Madame, which I will try
to remember for you, if you please "
"All right," said Lavender; "you'll find me "
EXCHANGES. 45
next room on the lefl wlien you get tired of your
music and want a cigar, I think you used to beat
me al cliess, didn't you!"
"I do not know. We will try once inore to-night."
Theo Sheila and he went into the drawing-room
by ihemsclves; and while she took a seat near the
cmpty fire-place, he opened the piano at once, and
sat down. He tumed up his cuffs. He took a look
ai the pedals. He threw back his head, shaking his
long brown hair. And then, with a crash like thunder,
his two hands Struck the keys. He had forgotten all
about that sonata it was a fantasia of his own, based
the airs in "Der Freischtz," that he played; and,
he played, Sheila's poor lite piano suffered some-
what Never before had it beeo so battered about;
and she wished the small Chamber were a great hall,
lo temper the voluminous noise of this opening pas-
sage. But presently the music softened. The while,
h'the fingers ran lighy over the keys, so that the
notes seemed to ripple out like the prattling of a
stream; and then again some stately and majestic air,
or some joyous bursl of song, would break upon this
Ught accompaniment, and lead up to another roar and
nmible of noise. It was a very fine Performance,
doubtless; but what Sheila remarked most was the
enthusiasm of the lad. She was lo see more of IhaL
"Now," he Said, "that is nothing. It is to get one's
fingers accustomed to the keys you play anylhing
that is loud and rapid. But if you please, Madame,
shall I sing you somethingl"
"Ves, do," Said Sheila.
"I will sing for you a little German song, which I
believe Jenny Lind used to sing, but 1 never heard her
Itng. Vou know Germant"
46 A iiuHCESs or thvlc.
"Very litde indeed"
"This is only the oy of some one, who
away, about his sweeiheart. It is very simple, boih in
the words and die musie."
And he began to sing, in a voice so rieh, so tender,
and expressive, that Sheila sat ama^ed and bewQdered
to hear him. Where had this boy caught such a trick
of passion, or was it really a trick that threw ioto his
voice all ie pathos of a strong man's love and griefl
He had a powerfu] baritone, of unusual compass, and
rare sweetness; but it was not the finely-trained art of
his singing, but the passionale abandomnent of it, that
thrilled Sheita, and indeed brought tears to her eyes.
How had this mere lad leamed all the yearniDg and
despair of love, that he sang
as though his heart were breakingl When he had
finished, he paused for a moment or two before leav-
ing Ihe piano; and Ihen he came over to where Sheila
sat. She fancied there was a strnge look on his face,
as of one who had been really experiencing the wild
eiuotions of which he sang; but he said, in his ordinaiy
careful way of speaking^
"Madame, I am sorry I cannot translate the words
for you ioto English. They are too simple; and they
have, whal is common in many German songs, a^
mingling of the pleasure and the sadaess of being ia
love, that would not read natural perhaps in Engiish.
When he says to her that she is his greatest deght
and also his greatest grief, it is quite right ia
German but not io the English.'
EXCHANGES. 47
"But where have you leamed all these thingsl"
she Said to him, talking to him as if he were a mere
child, and looking without fear into his handsome
boyish face and fine eyes. "Sit down and teil me.
That is the song of some one whose sweetheart is far
away, you said. But you sang it as if you yourself
had some sweetheart far away."
"So I have, Madame," he said, seriously; "when I
sing the song, I think of her then, so that I almost
cry for her."
"And who is shel" said Sheila, gently. "Is she
very far away?"
"I do not know," said the lad, absently. "I do
not know who she is. Sometimes I think she is a
beautiful woman away at St. Petersburg, singing in the
opera-house there. Or I think she has sailed away in
a ship from me "
"But you do not sing about any particular personl"
said Sheila, with an innocent wonder appearing in her
eyes.
"Oh no, not at all," said the boy; and then he
added, with some suddenness, "Do you think, Ma-
dame, any fine songs like that, or any fine words, that
go to the heart of people, are written about any one
person? Oh, no! The man has a great desire in him
to say something beautiful, or sad, and he says it
not to one person, but to all the world; and all the
World takes it from him as a gift. Sometimes, yes, he
will think of one woman, or he will dedicate the music
to her, or he will compose it for her wedding, but the
feeling in his heart is greater than any that he has for
her. Can you believe, Madame, that Mendelssohn
wrote the Hochzeitm the Wedding-March for any
one wedding? No. It was all the marriage-joy of all
48 A PRINCESS OF THXJLH,
the World he put into his music, and everyone knowS
that. 'And you hear it at this wedding, at that wed-
dtng, but you know it belongs to something far away
and more beautiful than the marriage of any one
bride with her sweetheart. And if you will pardoD
me, Madame, for speaking about myself; it is about
some one I never knew, who is far more beautiful and
precious to me than any one I ever knew, that I try
to think when I sing these sad songs, and then I
think of her far away, and not likely ever to see me
again."
"But some day, you will find thaC you have met
her in real life," Sheila said. "And you will find her
far more beautiful and kind to you than anything you
dreamed about; and you will try to write your best
music to give her. And then, if you should be un-
happy, you will und how much worse is the real un-
happiness about one you love than the sentiment of a
song you can lay aside at any moment."
The lad looked at her.
" What can you know about unhappiness, Madainel"
he said, with a frank and gentle simplicity that she
liked.
"ir" said Sheila. "When people get married and
begin to experience the cares of the world, they must
expect to be unhappy sometimes."
"But not you," he said, with sorae touch of protest
in his voice, as if it were impossible the world should
deal harshly with so young, and beautiful, and tender
a creature. "You can have nothing but enjoynient
around you. Everyone musC try to please you. You
need only condescend to speafc to people, and they
arc grateful to you for a great favoor. Perhaps, Ma-
dame, you think I am impertinent "
l
EXCHANGES. 4 g
He stopped and blushed; while Sheila herseif, with
a. little louch of colour, answered him, that she hoped
he would always speak to her quite frankly, and then
BUggested Ihal he might sing once more for her.
"Very weU," he said, as he sat down to the piano;
I "this is not any more a sad song. It is about a young
lady who will not let her sweetheart kiss her, cxcept
I OD conditions. You shall hear the cooditions, and
1 what he says."
Sheila began to wonder whether this innocent-
eyed lad had been imposing on her. The song was
acied as well as sung. It consisted chiefly of a dia-
logue between the iwo lovers; and the boy, with a
wondetful ease and grace and skill, mimicked the sby
coquetries of the girl, her fits of petiilance and dicta-
tion, and the pathetic remonstrances of her companion,
bis humble enireaties, and his final suUenness, which
ic only conquered by her sudden and ample consent.
"What a rare faculty of aitistic representation this
precocious boy musi have," sh thoughl, "if he really
exhibits all those moods, and whims, and tricks of
inanner without having himself been in the position of
ihe despairing and imploring loverl"
"You were not thinking of the beautiful lady in
St. Petersburg when you were singing now," Sheila
.aid, on his comlng back to her.
Oh no," he saidcarelessly; "that is nolhing, You
bare not to imagine anything. These people, you see
ibcm on every stage, in the comedies and farces."
"But that mighl happen in actual life," said Sheila,
Ctl nol quite sure about him. "Do you know that
pany people would think you must have yourself been
in that way, or you could not imitate it so
iTal\yV'
tf ThMlf II. \
50 A PRINCESS OF TUULE.
"11 Oh no, Madame," he said, seriously, "I should
not acl Ihat way, if I were in love with a woman. If
I found her a comedy-actress, Uking to make her
amusement out of our relations, I should say to her,
'Good evening, MadtmoUelh; we hecve botk made a iillli
mUlake,' "
"But you mighl be so mudi in love with her that
you could not leave her without being very miserable."
"I might be very much in love with her, yes: but
I would rather go away, and be miserable, than be
humiliated by such a girl. Why do you smile, Ma-
damel Do you think 1 am vain, or that I am too
young to know anything about thati Perhaps bolh
are true; but one cannot help thinking."
"Well," said Sheila, with a grandly matemal air of
sympathy and interest, "you must always remember
this that you have something more important to at-
tcnd to than merely looking out for a beautiful sweet-
heart. That is the fancy of a foolish girl. You have
youT profession; and you must become great and
famous in that; and then, some day, when you meet
this beautiful woman, and ask her to be your wifc, she
wUl be bound to do that, and you will confer honour
on her as well as secure happiness to yourself. Now,
if you were to fall in love with some coquettish gir!
like her you were singing about, you would have no
ambition to become famous; you would lose all inter-
est in everything except her, and she would be able
to make you miserable by a single word. When yo'i
have made a name for yourself, and got a good many
more years, you will be better abie to bear anything
that happens to you in your love or in your
riage."
"You are very kind to take so much trouble,"
EXCHANGES. 5 1
said young Mosenberg, looking up with big, grateful
eyes. "Perhaps, Madame, if you are not very busy,
during the day, you will let me call in sometimes; and
if there is no one here, I will teil you about what
I am doing, and play for you, or sing for you, if you
please."
''In the aftemoons I am always free," she said.
"Do you never go out," he asked.
"Not often. My husband is at his studio most of
the day."
The boy looked at her, hesitated for a moment,
and then, with a sudden rush of colour to his face
"You should not stay so much in the house. Will
you sometimes go for a little walk with me, Madame,
to Kensington Gardens, if you are not busy in the
aftemoon?"
"Oh, certalnly," said Sheila, without a moment's
embarrassment "Do you live near theml"
"No, I live in Sloane-street; but the Underground
railway brings me here in a very short time."
The mention of Sloane-street gave a twinge to
Sheila's heart Ought she to have been so ready to
accept offers of new friendship just as her old friend
had been banished from her?
"In Sloane-street? Do you know Mr. Ingram?"
"Oh yes, very well. Do youl"
"He is one of my oldest friends," said Sheila,
bravely: she would not acknowledge that their intimacy
was a thing of the past
"He is a very good friend to me I know that,"
said young Mosenberg, with a laugh. "He hired a
piano, merely because I used to go into his rooms at
night; and now he makes me play over all my most
difficult music when I go in, and he sits and smokes
^*
$2 A PRIPICESS OF THLE.
a pipe, and pretends to lilce it. I do not think he
does; but 1 have got to do it all the same; and then,
afterwards, I sing for him some songs that I know he
likes, Madame, I thJnk 1 can surprise you."
He went suddenly to the piano, and began to sing,
in a veiy quiet way
Thy lalc-wakc BS sun'g by MuDurmid's fnir daehles,
It was the lament of the young girl whose lover
had been separated from her by false reports, and who
died before he could get back to Lochaber when the
deception was discovered. And the wild, sad air that
the girl is supposed to sing seemed so strnge with
those new chords that this boy-musician gave it, that
Sheila sat and listened to it as though it were the
sound of the seas about Borva coming to her with a
new voice and Unding her altered and a stranger,
"I know nearly all of those Highland songs thal
Mr. Ingram has got," said the lad.
"I did not know he had any," Sheila said.
"Sometimes he tries to sing one himself," said the
boy, with a smile, "but he does not sing very well,
and he gets vexed with himself in fun, and flings
things about the room. But you will sing some of
those songs, Madame, and let me hear how they are
sung in the Northl"
"Some time," said Sheila; "I would rather listen
just now to all you can teil me about Mr. Ingram
he is such a very old friend of mine, and I do not
know how he lives."
The lad speedily discovered that there was at least
one way of keeping bis new and beautiful acquaint-
ance profoundly interested; and, indeed, he wenl on
GUESSES. 53
talking until Lavender came into the room, in evening
dress. It was eleven o'clock; and young Mosenberg
Started up with a thousand apologies and hopes that
he had not detained Mrs. Lavender. No, Mrs. Laven-
der was not going out; her husband was going round
for an hour to a ball that Mrs. Kavanagh was giving,
but she preferred to stay at home.
"May I call upon you to-morrow aflemoon, Ma-
dame?" Said the boy, as he was leaving.
"I shall be very glad if you will," Sheila an-
swered.
And as he went along the pavement, young Mosen-
berg observed to his companion that Mrs. Lavender
did not seem to have gone out much, and that it was
very good of her to have promised to go with him
occasionally into Kensington Gardens.
"Oh, has shel" said Lavender.
"Yes," said the lad, with some surprise.
"You are lucky to be able to get her to leave the
house," her husband said; "I canV
Perhaps he had not tried so much as the words
seemed to imply.
CHAPTER IIL
Gaesses.
"Mr. Ingram," cried young Mosenberg, bursting
into the room of his friend, ''do you know that I have
Seen your Princess from the island of the Atlanticl
Yes, I met her yesterday, and I went up to the house,
and I dined there, and spent all the evening there."
Ingram was not surprised, nor, apparently, much
interested. He was cutting open die leaves of a
54 A PBINCESS OF THULE.
quarterly review, and a freshly-fied pipe lay on the
table beside him. A fire had been lit, more for cheer-
fulness than warmth: the shutters were shut; there
was some whisky on the table; so that this small
apartment eeemed to bave its share of bachelor's com-
forts.
"Well," Said Ingram, quietly, "did you play for
herV'
"Yes."
"And sing for her, too?"
"Ves."
"Did you play and sing your very best for herJ"
"Yes, 1 did. But I have not told you half yet.
This aflernoon I went up; and she went out for a
walk with me; and we went down through Kensington
Gardens, and all around by the Serpentine^"
"Did she go into that parade of peoplel" said
Ingram, looking up with some surprise.
"No," said the lad, looking rather crestfallen, fot
he would have liked to have shown off Shea to some
of his friends; "she would not go she preferred to
watch the small boats on the Serpentine; and she was
very kind, too, in speaking to the children, and help-
ing them with their boats, although some people stared
at her. And what is more than al! these things, to-
morrow niglit she comes with me to a concert in the
St James's Hall yes."
" You are very fortunate," said Ingram, with a sroe,
for he was well pleased lo hear that Sheila had taken
a fancy to the boy, and was likely to find his sociely
amusing. "But you have not told me yet what you
think of her,"
"What I think of herl" said the lad, pausing in a
bewildered way, as if he could find no words to Cprcss
h
J
GUESSES. 55
his opinion of Sheila. And then he said, suddenly,
/ thtnk she ts Itke the Moiher of Godr
"You irreverent young rascal!" said Ingram, light-
ing his pipe, "how dare you say such a thingl"
"I mean in the pictures in the tall pictures you
see in some churches abroad, far up in a half-darkness.
She has the same sweet, compassionate look, and her
eyes are sometimes a little sad; and when she speaks
to you, you think you have known her for a long
time, and that she wishes to be veiy kind to you. But
she is not a Princess at all, as you told me. I ex-
pected to find her grand, haughty, wilful, yes; but she
is much tOQ friendly for that, and when she laughs,
you see she could not sweep about a room, and stare
at people. But if she was angry, or proud perhaps
then "
"See you don't make her angry, then," said Ingram.
"Now go and play over all you were practising in the
moming. No! stop a bit Sit down and teil me
something more about your experiences of Shei of
Mrs. Lavender."
Young Mosenberg laughed, and sat down.
"Do you know, Mr. Ingram, that the same thing
occurred yesterday night, I was about to sing some
raore, or I was asking Mrs. Lavender to sing some
more I forget which but she said to me, ^ Not just
now. I wish you to stt down and teil me all you know
about Mr, Ingram J^*
"And she no sooner honours you with her con-
fidence than you carry it to everyone!" said Ingram,
somewhat fearful of the bo/s tongue.
"Oh, as tothat," said the lad, delighted to see that
his friend was a little embarrassed. "As to that, I be-
lieve she is in love with you."
T^^^^l JUlnuii Uli muB^^^^^
"Mosenbet^," said Ingram, with a flash of angei
in bis dark eyes, " if yoii were balf-a-dozen years older,
1 would tbrash the life out of you. Do you thinlc that
is a pretty sort of joke to make about a womanl Don't
you know the mischief your gabbling tongue might
make; for how is everyone to know that you are lalk-
ing merely impertinent nonsense?"
"Oh," said the boy, audaciously, "I did not mean
anything of the kiod you see in comedies or in opetas,
breaking up mamages, and causing doels! Oh, no. I
ihink shc is in love with you as I am in lovc with her:
and I am, ever since yesterday."
"Well, I will say this for you," remarked Ingram,
slowly, "that you are the cheekiest young beggar I
have the pleasure to know. You are in love with her,
are you! A lady admits you to her house, is parti-
cularly kind to you, talks to you in confidence, and
then you go and teil people that you are in lovc wilh
herl"
"I did not teil people so," said Mosenberg, flush-
ing under the severity of the reproof; "I totd you only,
and I thought you would understand what I meant. I
should have told Lavender himself just as scon, yesi
only he would not care."
"How do you know?"
"Bah!" said the boy, impatiently. "Cannot one
see it) You have a pretty wife much pretlier than
anyone you would see at a ball at Mrs. Kavanagh's
and you leave her at home, and you go to the ball to
amuse yourself."
This boy, Ingram perceived, was getting to see too
clearly how matters stood. He bade him go and play
some music, having first admonished hJm gravely about
the necessity of keeping some watch and ward over
GOESSKS. 57
his tongue. Theo the pipe was re-Iit; and a fury of
sound arose at the other end of the room.
So Lavender, forgetful of the tnie-hearted girl who
loved him, forgetful of his own generous instincts,
forgetful of the future that his fine abilities promised,
was still dangling after this allen woman; and Sheila
was left at home, with her troubles and piteous yearn-
ings and fancies as her only companions. Once upon
a time, Ingram could have gone straight up to him,
and admonished him, and driven him to amend his
ways. But now that was impossible.
IVhat was stiil possiblel One wild project occurred
to him for a moment, but he laughed at it, and dis-
tnissed it It was that he should go boldly to Mrs.
Lorraice herseif, ask her plainly if she knew what cruel
injury she was doing to this young wife, and force
her to turn Lavender adrift. But what enterprise of
the days of old romance could he compared with this
tnad proposalT To ride up to a Castle, blow a trumpet,
and announce that unless a certain lady were released
forthwilh, death and destruciion would begin all that
was simple enough, easy and according to rule; but
to go into a lady's drawing-room, without an intro-
duction, and request her to stop a certain flirtation
that was a much more awful undertaking. But Ingram
could not altogether dismiss this notion frora his head.
Mosenberg weot on playing no longer his praciising-
pieces, but all manner of airs which he knew Ingram
liked; whiie the small sallow man with the brown beard
lay in his easy-chair, and smoked his pipe, and gazed
attentively ai his toes on the fender,
"You know Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter, don't
yoo, Mosenbergl" he said, during an interval in the
"Tbxi IS *ti7 C19- ^tt- LAvcoder will introdm
yoa to Tfaeaa. Mi^ Lzv^ida said be went tfaoc 07
"What vimU Aej do, do fon ttnk, if I went np
and asked to aoe dnil'
" The BCfraat woold ask tf tt was about beer n
co^ils ihat JOB aBed.'
A man wiD d nindi for a woman wfao is hb
friend; bot to be sospccted of being a brewei^
iravcller, to bave to push one's way into a strnge
drawing-room, lo bare to con&ont the awfol staje A
llic inmates, and thn to have to deliver a messa^
whith they will probably consider as the veiy extrone
of audacious and meddljng impertineDce ! The pros-
pcct was not pleasant; and yet Ingram, as he sat and
thought over it ihat evening, finaliy resolved to en-
counler all tiiese dangers and wounds. He coutd help
Sheila in no other way. He was banisbed from her
house. Perhaps he might induce this American gi'r! to
release her captive, and give Lavender back to his
own wife, What were a few twinges of one's selfre-
spect, er rislcs of a hamihating failure, compared wilh
the possibility of befriending Sheila in some small
wayl
Next raoming he went early in to Whitehall; and
about one o'clock started off for Holland Park,
wore a tall hat, a black frock-coat, and yeUon
gloves. He went in a hansom, so that the person who
opened the door should know thal he was not i
brewer's traveller. In this wise he reached Mrs.
Kavanagh's house, which Lavender had &equeDy
l
GUESSES. 59
pointed out to him in passing, about half-past one,
and, with some mtemal tremors, but much outward
calmness, went up the broad stone steps.
A small boy in buttons opened the door.
"Is Mrs. Lorraine at horae?"
"Yes, sir," Said the boy.
It was the simplest thing in the world. In a couple
lof seconds he found himself in a big drawing-room;
and the youth had taken bis card upstairs. Ingram
was not very sure whether his success, so far, was due
to the hansom, or to his tall hat, or to a silver-headed
cane which his grandfather had brought home from
Jndia. However, here he was in the house, just like
the hero of one of those fine old farces of our youth,
who juinps from the street into a strnge drawing-
jroom, flirts with the maid, hides behind a screen, con-
^nts the master, and marries his daugbter all in half
hour, the most exacting unities of time and place
faithfully observed.
Presently the door was opened, and a young lady,
toale and calm and sweet of face, approached him, and
Siot only bowed to him, but held out her band.
"I have rauch pleasure in making your acquaint-
fttice, Mr. Ingram," she said, gently, and somewhat
slowly. "Mr. Lavender has ftequently promised to
tning you to see us; for he has spoken to us so much
About you, tbat we had begun to think we already
:knew you. Will you come with me upstairs ihat I
may introduce you to Mamma!"
Ingram had come prepared to state harsh truths
bluntly, and was ready to meet any sort of anger or
spposition with a perfect ftankness of intention. But
kfl certainly had not come prepared to find the smart-
led and fascinating American widow of whom he
6o
had heard so much, a quiet, self-possessed, and gracious
yoiing lady, of singulaily winning manners, and clear
and resoiutely honest eyes. Had Lavender been quiie
accurate or even conscientious in his garriilous ta!t
about Mrs. Lorraine}
"If you will excuse me," said Ingram, with a smile
that had less of embarrassment about it than he could
have expected, "I would rather speak to you for ft
few minutes firsL The fact is, I have come on a self-
imposed eirand; and that must be my apology for
for thrusting myself "
"I am sure no apotogy is needed," said the giri
"We have always been expecting to see you. Will
you sit down)"
He put his hat and his cane on the table; and as
he did so, he recordcd a mental resolution not to be
led away by the apparent innocence and sweetness of
this woman. What a fool he had been, to expect her
to appear in the guise of some fotward and giggling
coquette, as if Frank Lavender, with all his faults,
could have suffered anything like coarseness of man-
ners! But was this woman any the less dangeious
that she was retined and courteous, and h^ the
Speech and bearing of a gentlewomant
"Mrs, Lorraine," he said, lowering his eyebrows
somewhat, "I may as well be frank with you. I have
come upon an unpleasant errand an affair, indeed.
which ought to be no business of mine; but some-
times, when you care a Uttle for some one, you don't
mind running the risk of being tieated as an inter-
meddler, You know that I know Mrs. Lavender. She
is an old friend of mine. She was almost a child
when I knew her first; and I still have a. sort of
I GUESSES. 6l
r tion that she is a child, and that I should look arter
I' her, and so and so "
I She sat quite still, There was no surprise, no
' alarm, no anger, when Sheila's narae was mentioned.
She was merely attenCive; but now, seeing that he he-
sitated, she said
"I do not know what you have to say; but if it is
erious, may not 1 ask Mamma to join us)"
"If you please, no. I would rather speak wilh you
alone, as this matter concenis yourself only. Well,
Uie fact is, I have seen for some time back that Mrs.
Xavender is very unhappy; she is left alone; she knowa
|io one in London; perbaps she does not care to join
mach in those social amuseiaents that her husband
enjoys. I say this poor girl is an old friend of mine;
I cannot help irying to do soroeihing to make her less
wretched; and so I have ventured to come to you to
ee if you could not assist me, Mr. Lavender comes
very much to your house; and Sheila is left all by
herself; and doubtless she begins to fancy that her
husband is neglectful, perhaps indifferent to her, and
ntay gel to imagine things that are quite wrong, you
know, and that could be explained away by a ttle
kindness on your part."
Was this, then, the fashion in which Jonah had
gone up to curse the wickedness of Nineveh) As he
hsd spoken, he had been aware that those sincere,
Bomcwhat matter-of-fact, and far from unfrieodly eyes
fbaX were fixed on bim had undergone no change
whatever. Here was no vile creature who would
Start up, with a guilty conscience, to repd the re-
Biotest hint of an accusation; and indeed, quite un-
isly to himself, he had been led on to ask for
hetp. Not that he feared her. Not that he could
6z A tRINCESS Or TBDLK.
not have said the harshest things to her which thete
was any reason for saying. But somehow thert
seemed to be oo occasion for the ntterance of any
cniel truths.
The wonder of it was, too, that instead of bcing
wounded, indignant. and angry, as he had expected
her to be, she betrayed a very friendly inlerest in
Sheila, as ihough she herseif had nothing whatever lo
do wiih the matter.
"Vou have undertaken a very difficult task, Ut.
Ingram," she said, with a sme. "I don't think there
are many mamed ladies in London who have a friend
who would do as much for them. And, to teil you
the truth, both my mamma and myself have come to
the same conclusion as youtself about Mr. Lavender.
It is really too had, the way in which he allows thil
pretty young thing to remain at home; for 1 suppose
she would go more into society if he were to coax her
and persuade her. We have done what we could, in
sending her invitations, in calling on her, and in
begging Mr. Lavender to bring her with him. But he
has always some excuse for her, so Ihat we never see
her. And yet I am sure he does not mean to give her
pain; for he is very proud of her, and madly extra-
vagant wherever she is concemed, and sometiraes he
takes sudden fits of trying to please her and be kind
to her that are quite odd in their way. Can you teil
me what we should doT"
Ingram looked at her for a moment, and said,
gravely and slowly
"Before we ta!k any more about that, I musl dear
my conscience. I believe that I have done you a
wrong. I came here prepared to accuse you of dra-
ing away Mr. Lavender from his wife, of i
I GUESSES.
lamusement and perhaps some social distinction by
[ kceping liim conlinually dangling after you; and I
nieant to reproach you, or even threaten you, until
I promised never to see hiin again."
A quick fiush, part!y of shame and partly of an-
noyance, sprang to the fair and pale face; but she an-
Swered, calmly^
is perhaps as well that you did not teil me
this a few minutes ago. May I ask what has led you
to change your opinion of me, if it has changedl"
"Of course it has changed," he said, promptly and
inphatically. "I can see that I did you a great in-
|ry; and I apologtze for it, and beg your forgiveness.
iut when you ask me what has led me to change my
^inion, what am I to sayt Your manner, perhaps,
Qore than what you have said, has convinced me that
was wrong."
"Perhaps you are again mistaken," she said, coldly;
you gel rapidly to conclusions."
"The reproof is just," he said. "You are quite
ighL I have made a blunder; there is no mistake
ibout it."
"But do you think it was fair," she said, with some
l^irit, "do you think it was fair to believe all this
haita about a woman you had never seen7 Now,
A hundred times I have begged Mr. Lavender
to be more attenlive to his wife not in these words,
of course, but as directly as I could. Mamma has
paities, made arrangements for Visits, drives, and
ts of things, to tempt Mrs. Lavender to come to
d all in vain. Of course, you can't thrust your-
anyone like Ihat. Though Mamma and myself
s. Lavender very well, it is askirg too much
63
64 A FRINCESS OP THULE.
ihat we should encounter the humiliation of inter-
meddling "
Here she stopped suddenly, with the least show of
embanassment. Then slie said, frankly
"You are an old friend of hers. It is very good
of you to have risked so much for the salte of ihat
giri. There are very few gentlemen whom one raeeis
who would do as much."
Ingram could say nothing, and was a little impa-
tient with himself. Was he to be first reproved, and
then treated with an indulgent kindness, by a mere
girll
"Mamma," said Mrs. Lorraine, as an elderty lady
entered the room, "let me introduce to you Mr. in-
gram, whom you miist akeady know. He proposes we.
should join in some conspiracy to inveigle Mrs, La-
vender into society, and tnake the poor little thing
amuse herseif."
" Little I" said Mrs. Kavanagh, with a smile;
is a good deal taller than you are, my dear. But I
am afraid, Mr. Ingram, you have undertaken a hope-
less task- Will you stay to luncheon, and talk il over
with usi"
"I hope you will," said Mrs, Lorraine; and natu-
rally enoiigh he consented.
Luncheon was just ready. As they were going into
the room on the opposite side of the hall, the younger
lady said to Ingram, in a quiet undertone, but with
much indifference of manner
"You know, if you think I ought to give np Jfc
Lavender's acquaintance, I will do so at once. Bul
perhaps that will not be necessary."
So this was the house in which Sheila's husband
speot so much of bis time; and these wcre the two
OOESSES. 65
ladtes of whom so much had been said and surmised.
There were three of Lavender's pictures on the walls
of the dining-roomj and as Ingram inadvertentiy
glanced at them, Mrs. Lorraine said to him
"Don't you think it is a pity Mr. Lavender should
continue drawing those imaginative sketches of heads^
I do not think, myself, that he does himself justice in
that way, Sorae bits of landscape, now, that I have
Seen, seemed to me to have quite a definite character
a.boiit them, and promised far more than anythiogelse
of his I have seen."
"That is precisely what I think," said Ingram,
partly amused and partly annoyed to find that this
girl, wilh her clear grey eyes, her soft and musical
voice, and her singiilar delicacy of manner, had an
evU trick of saying the very things he would himself
bave said, and kaving him with nothing but a helpless
yes."
"I think he ought to have given up his c!ub when
he married. Most EngUsh gentlemen do that when
ihey marty, do they notl" said Mrs. Kavanagh.
"Some," said Ingram. "But a good deal of non-
sense is talked about the influence of clubs in that
way. It is really absurd to suppose that the size or
the shape of a buildtng can alter a man's moral cha-
racter "
"It does, though," said Mrs. Lorraine, confidently.
I can teil directly if a gentleman has been
tomed to spend his time in clubs. When he
prised, orangry, or impatient, you can perceive blanks
tu his conversation, which in a cUib, I suppose, would
bc fiUed up. Don't you know poor old Colonel HaU'
DCD's way of lalking, Matnmal This old gentleman,
!!' IngruTn, is very fond of speaking to you about
iks J
ild I
an, I
3Ut I
r
66 A FRtMCESS OF THULE.
political liberty, and the rights of conacience; and he
generally becomes so confused that he gets vexed with
himself, and makes odd pauses, as if he were inva-
riably addressing himaelf in very rde language in-
deed. Sometimes you woiild think he was like a rail-
way-engine, going blindly and helplessly on through a
thick and choaking mist; and you can see that, if
there were no ladies present, he would let ofF a few
Crackers fog-signals, as it were just to bring him-
seif up a bit, and let people know where he was
Then he will go on again, talking away, until you
fancy yourself in a tunnel, with a throbbing naise in
your ears , and all the daylight shut out, and yoH
perhaps getting to wish that oo the whole you were
dead."
"Cecilia!"
"I beg your pardon, Mamma," said the younget
lady, with a quiet smile; "you look so surprised, that
Mr. Ingram will give me credit for not often erring in
that way. You look as though a hare had tiimed and
attacked you,"
"That would give tnost people a fright," said In-
gram with a laugh. He was rapidly forgetting the ob-
ject of his mission. The alroost childish softness of
voice of this girl, and the perfect composure with whick
she uttered little sayings showed considerable sharp-
ness of Observation, and a keen enjoyment of the gro-
tesque, had an odd sort of fascination for him. He
totally forgot that Lavender had been fascinated by it
too. If he had been reminded of the fact at this mo-
ment, he would have said that the boy had, as usnal,
got sentimental about a pretty pair of big grey eyes
and fine profile, while he, Ingram, was possessed bf
nothing but a purely intetlectual admiration of
EGUESSES. 67 I
es of brightness, sincerity of specch, and ^^^|
vewdness. ^^^H
b Luncheon, indeed, was ovet before any niention was ^^^H
de of the Lavenders; and when ihey retumed to ^^^H
t subject, it appeared to Ingram that their relations I
ed in ie meantime got to be very friendly, and that
liey were really discussing this matter as if they formed
I little family conclave.
I "I have told Mr. Ingram, Mamma," Mrs. Loiraine
id, "that so far as I am concemed, I will do what-
rer he thinks I ought lo do. Mr. Lavender has been
; friend of ours for some time; and of course he can-
Ot be treated with rudeness or incivilityj but if we
tc woimding the feelings of anyone by asking him to
Ome here and he certainly has visited us pretty often
-why, it would be easy to lessen the number of his
klls. Is that what we should do, Mr. Ingraml You
uld not have us quarrel with himt"
"Especially," said Mrs. Kavanagh, with a sme,
that there is no certainty he will spend more of his
lue with his wife merely because he spends less of
here. And yet I fancy he is a very good-natured
. "He very good-natured," said Ingram, with deci-
pn. "I have known him for years, and I know that
t is cxceedingly unseiiish, that he would do ridicu-
Usly generous things to serve a friend, and that a
(tter-intentioned fellow does not breathe in the world.
It he is, at times, I admit, veiy thoughtless and in-
nsiderate "
"That sort of good-nature," said Mrs, Lorraine, in
T gentlesl voice, " is very good in its way, but rather
So long as it shines in one direction, it is J
and quite trustworthy; for you want a bardifl
5*
68 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
bnish to brush sunllght off a wall. But when the sun^
light shifts, you know "
"The wall is left in the cold. Well," said Ingram,
"I am afraid it is impossible for me to dictate to you
whal you ought to do. I do not wish to draw yoa
into any interference between husband and wife,
even to !et Mr. Lavender know that you think he is
not treating Shei Mrs. Lavender properly. But if
you were to hint to him that he ought to pay some
attention to her-^that he should not be going every-
where as if he were a young bachelor in Chambers; if
you would discourage his Coming to see you without
bringing her also, and so forth surely he would
what you mean. Perhaps I ask too much of you; but
I had intended to ask more. The fact is, Mrs. Kava?
nagh, I had done your daughter the injustice of sup-
posing - - "
"I thought we had agreed to say no more about
that," said Mrs. Lorralne, quickly; and Ingram
silent.
Half an hour thereafter he was Walking back
through Holland Park, through the warm light of an
autumn aftemoon. The place seemed much changed
since he had seen it a couple of hours before. Tlie
double cuTve of big houses had a more friendly and
hospitable look; the very air seemed to be more genial
and comfortable since he had driven up here in the
hansom.
Perhaps Mr. Ingram was at this moraent a lite
more perturbed, pleased, and be wildered tlian he would
have liked to confess. He had discovered a great
deal in these two hours; been much surprised and
fascinated; and had come away fairly stupelied wilh
the result of his mission. He had, indeed, been suc*
GUESSES. 69
, eessfal: Lavender would now find a different welcome
awaiting him in the house in which he had been
I spending nearly all his time, to ihe neglect of hJs wife.
But the fact is, that as Edward Ingram went rapidly
. over in his own mind everything that had occurred
I fiince his entrance into that house; as he anxiously
recalJed the remarks made to him, the tone and looks
j accompanying them, and his own replies, it was not of
I Lavender's affairs alone that he thought. He confessed
' to himself frankJy that he had never yet met any
I woman who had so surprised him into admiration on
I their first meeting,
] Yet what had she saidt Nothing very particular.
Was it in (he bright intelligence of the grey eyes, that
eemed to see everything he meant with an instant
;quickness, and that seemed to agree with him even
Ibefore he spokel He reflected, now that he was in
I die opcn air, that he must have persecuted these two
jVomen dreadfuily. In getting away from Lavender's
l'offairs, they had touched on pictures, books, and what
Jot on all sorts of topics, indeed, except those which,
BS Ingram had anticipated, such a creature as Mrs.
Xorraine would naturally have found inleresCing. And
Ilu had to confess to himself that he had lectured his
ttro helpless victims most unmercifully. He was quite
inscious that he sometimes laid down the law in an
thoritative and even sententious manner. On first
going into ihe house, certain things said by Mrs. Lor-
xaine had alroosl surprised him into a mood of mere
lacquiescence; but after luncheon he had assumed his
['ordioary manner of tiitor in general to the universe,
tnd bad informed those two women, in a distinct
tshion, what their opinions ought to be on half the
' ) conundrums of the day.
JO A PKINCESS OF THULE.
He now reflected, with much compunction , that
Ihis was htghly iraproper. He ought to have asked
about flower-showsj and inquired whether the Princess
of Wales was looking well of late. Some reference
to the last Parisian comedy mighi have introduced a
disquisirion an the new greys and greens of the French
miltiners, with a passing mention made of the price
paid for a pair of ponies by a certain Marquise un-
attached. He had not spoken of one of these things;
perhaps he coutd not, if he had tried. He remembered,
with an awfu! tonsciousness of guilt, that he had
actually discoursed of woman-suffrage , of the public
conscience of New York, of the extirpation of the
Indiana, and a dozen diSerent things, not only taking
no heed of any opinions that his audience of two
might hold, but insisting on their accepting his opinions
as the expression of absolute and incontrovertible
truth.
He became more and more dissatisfied with him-
seif. If he could only go back, now, he would bc
much more wary, more submissive and complaisant,
more anxious to please. What right had he to abuse
the courtesy and hospitality of these two strangers,
and lecture them on the Constitution of their own
countryl He was annoyed beyond expressioD that
they had listened to him with so much patience.
And yet he could not have seriously ofiended
them; for they had eamestJy besought him to dine
with them on the following Tuesday evening, to roeet
an American judge; and, when he had consented,
Mrs. Lonaine had written down on a card the date
and hour, lest he should forget. He had that card in
his pocket: surely he could not have offended theml
If he had pursued this series of quesltons, he might
have gone on to ask himself why he should be so
anxious not to have offended these two new friends.
He was not ordinarily very sensitive to the opinions
ihat raight be formed of him more especiaUy by
persona living out of his own sphere, with whom he
was not likely to associate. He did not, indeed, as a
general rule, suffer himself to be perturbed aboot
anything; and yet, as he went along the busy ihorough-
fare at this moment, he was conscious that rarely in
his life had he been so ill at ease.
Something now occurred that startied him out of
bis reverie. Communing with himself, he was slarlng
blankly ahead, taking little note of the people whom
he saw. But somehow, in a vague and dream-ke
way, he seemed to become aware that there was some
one in front of him a long way ahead as yet whom
he knew. He was still thinking of Mrs. Lorraine,
and unconsciously postponing the examioation of this
approaching figure, or rather pair of figures, when,
with a sudden Start, he found Sheila's sad and eamest
eyes fued upou him. He woke up as from a dream.
He saw that young Mosenberg was with her; and
naturally the boy would have approached Ingram,
and stopped, and spoken. Cut Ingram paid no
attention to liim. He was, with a quick pang at his
heart, regarding Sheila, with the knowledge that on
her rested the cruel decision as to whether she should
come forward to him or not. He was not aware that
her husband had forbidden her to have any com-
munication with him; yet he had guessed as much,
partly from his knowledge of Lavender's impaiient
disposition, and partly from the glance he caught of
teyes when he woke up from his trance.
Young Mosenberg tumed with suipiise to his
L
72 A FKINCZSS OF tUUXK.
compaaion. Sbe was passhig oa; be did not even
See that ihe bs bowed to Ingram, nith a ux flnshed
with sbame and pain, and with ef es cast down. Ingiain,
too, was passtng on, without even sbaking hands witfa
her, or utteiing a word. Mosenberg was too be-
wildered to attempt any protest; he inerelj foOowed
Sbeila, with a coo^nction that soroething desperate bad
occtirred, and that he would best consult her fedings
by making na reference to iL
But tbal one look that the giil had directed to
her old friend, before sbe bowed and passed oa, had
lilled him with dismay and despair. It was somehow
like the piteous look of a wounded animal, incapable
of expressing its pain. All toughts and fancies of
bis own little vexations or erabarrassments were in-
stantiy banished from him; he could only see before
him those sad and piteous eyes, fuU of kindness
to him, he thought, and of grief that she should he
debaired from speaking to him, and of resignatlon to
her own lot.
Gwdyr House did not get much work out of him
tbal day. He sat in a small room in a back pari of
the building, looking out on a lonely little Square,
silenl and ruddy with the refiected light of ihe sunset.
"A hundred Mrs, Lonaines," he was thinking 10
himself, bitterly enougb, "will not save my poor Sheila.
She will die of a broken heart, I can see it in her
face. And it is I who have done it from first to last
it is I who have done it; and now I can do nothing
to belp her,"
That became the brden and refrain of a]l bis
reflections. It was he who had done this frightfiil
tliing, It was he who had taken away the young
Highland girl bis good Sheila from her home; and
sheila's stratagem. 73
ruined her life and broken her heart. And he could
do nothing to help her.
CHAPTER IV.
Sheila's Stratagem.
"We met Mr. Ingram to-day," said young Mosen-
berg, ingenuously.
He was dining with Lavender, not at home, but
at a certain club in St. James's Street; and either his
curiosity was too great, or he had forgotten altogether
Ingram's wamings to him that he should hold his
tongue.
"Oh, did youl" said Lavender, sh'owing no great
interest. "Waiter, some French mustard. What did
Ingram say to youl"
The question was asked with much apparent in-
diflference; and the boy stared.
"Well," he said, at length, "I suppose there is
some misunderstanding between Mrs. Lavender and
Mr. Ingram, for they both saw each other, and they
both passed on without speaking; I was very sorry,
yes. I thought they were friends. I thought Mr. In-
gram knew Mrs. Lavender even before you did; but
they did not speak to each other, not one word."
Lavender was in one sense pleased to hear this.
He liked to hear that his wife was obedient to him.
But, he said to himself, with a sharp twinge of con-
science, she was carrying her obedience too far. He
had never meant that she should not even speak to
her old friend. He would show Sheila that he was
not unreasonable. He would talk to her about it as
soon as he got home, and in as kindly a way as was
possible.
74 A PBINCESS OF THLE.
Mosetiberg did not play billiards, but they remained
late in the biUiaxd-room , Lavender playing pool, and
getting out of it radier successfully. He coald not
speak to Sheila that nigbtj but next moming, before
going out, he did.
"Sheila," he said, "Mosenberg told me last night
that you met Mr. Ingram, and dJd not speak to him.
Now, I didn't mean anything like that. You musl
not think me unreasonable. AU I want is, that he
shall not interfere with our afiairs and tiy to raise
some unpleasantness between you and me, such as
might arise ftom the interference of even the kindeS
of friends. When you meet him outside, or at any-
one's house, I hope you will speak to him just as
usual." Sheila replied, calmly
"If I am not allowed to receive Mr. Ingram here,
I cannot treat him as a friend elsewhere. I would
rather not have friends whom I can only speak to in
the streets."
"Very well," said Lavender, wincing under ihe
rebuke, but fancying Chat she would soon repent her
of Ulis resolve. In the meantime, if she would have
it so, she should have it so.
So that was an end of this question of Mr. In-
gram's interference for the present But very soon
in a couple of days, indeed Lavender perceived the
change that had been wiought in the house in Holland
Park to which he had been accustomed to resort.
"Cecilia," Mrs. Kavanagh had said, on Ingram's
leaving, "you must not be rde to Mr. Lavender."
She knew the perfect independence of that gentlc
young lady, and was rather afraid it might carry her
Uio lt,
'i)[ c:oiirsc 1 shall not be, Mamma," Mrs. Lotnine
SHZILA'S S'IRATAGBM. 75
had Said. "Did you ever hear of such a courageous
act as thal man Coming up to two strangers and
chalknging them all on behalf of a girl -manied to
some one eUel Vou kaow that was the meaning of
his Visit. He thought I was ftirting with Mr. Lavender,
and keeping him from his wife. I wonder how many
men there are in LoDdon who would have walked
Iwenty yards to help in such a matter."
"My dear, he may have been in love with thal
pretty young lady before she was married."
"Oh no," Said the clear-eyed daughter, quietly, but
quite cotifideotly. "He would not be so ready lo show
his interest in her, if that were so. Either he would
be modest, and ashamed of his rejection; or vain, and
attempt to make a mystery about it"
"Perhaps you are right," said the mother; she sel-
dom found her daughter wrong on such points.
"I am sure 1 am right, Mamma. He talks about
hei as fondly, and frequeny, and openly, as a man
might talk about his own daughter. Besides, you can
Gee he is talking honestly. That man couldn't de-
ccive a child if he were to try. You see everytliing in
his face."
"You seem to have been much interested in
him," Said Mrs. Kavanagh, wii no appearance of
sarcasm.
"Well, 1 don't think I meet such men oflen, and
that is the truth. Do you)"
This was carry ing the war into the enemy's
country.
"I like him very well," said Mrs. Kavanagh. "1
think he is honest I do not think he diesses very
csrefullyi and he is perhaps too intent on convincing
fon that bis opinioQs are right."
;0 A PKIKCESS OF THULE.
"Well, for my part," said her daughter, with just
the least linge of warmtb in her manner, "I confess I
like a matt who has opinions, and who is not afraid
to say so. 1 don't find many who have. And as for
his dressing, one gets rather tired of raen who conie
to you every evening to impress you with the ex-
cellence of their taor. As if women were to be
captured by millinery! Don't we know the value of
linen and woollen fabricsl"
"My dear child, you are throwing away your vexa-
tion on sorae one whom I don't know. It isnt Mr.
Lavenderl"
"Oh dear, nol He is not so silly as that: he
dresses well, but there is perfect freedom about his
dress. He is too much an artist to sacrifice himself
to his clothes."
"I am glad you have a good word for him at last
I think you have been rather hard on him since Mr.
Ingram called; and that is the reason I asked you to
be careful."
She was quite careful, but as exphcit as good
manners would allow. Mrs. Lorraine was most parti-
cular in asking about Mrs. Lavender, and in express-
ing her regret that they so seldora saw her,
"She has been brought up in the countiy, yoU
know," Said Lavender, with a smilej "and there the
daughters of a house are taught a number of domestic
duties that they would coosider it a sin to neglecL
She would be unhappy if you caused her to neglect
them; she would take her pleasure with a bad con-
science,"
"But she cannot be occupied with them all day"
"My dear Mrs. Lorraine, how often have we dis-
cussed the quealion! And you know you have me al
sheila's stratagem. 77
a disadvantage; for how can I describe to you what
tbose mysierious duties arel I only know thal she is
pretty nearly always busy with sotnething or other;
and in the evening, of course, she is generally too
tired lo ihink of going out anywhere."
"Oh, biit you must try to gel her out. Next Tues-
day, now, Judge is going to dine with us, and you
know how amusing he is. If you have no other en-
gagements, couldn't you bring Mrs. Lavender to dine
with US on that evening?"
Now, on former occasions, something of the same
sort of invitation had frequently been given; and it
was generally answered by Lavender's giving an ex-
cuse for his wife, and promising to come himself.
What was his astonishment to find Mrs. Lorraine
plainly, and most courteously, intimating that the in-
vitation was addressed distinctly to Mr. and Mrs. La-
vender as a couple! When he regretted that Mrs. La-
vender could not come, she said, quielly
"Oh, I am so sorryl You would have met an old
friend of yours here, as well as the Judge Mr. In-
gram."
Lavender made no further sign of surprise or
curiosity than to lift his eyebrows, and say
"Indecd I"
But when he lefl the house, certain dark suspi-
cions were troubhng his mind. Nothing had been
said as to the manner in which Ingram had made the
acquaintance of Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter; but
there was that in Mrs. Lorraine's manner which con-
vinced Lavender that something had happened. Had
Ingram carried his interference to the extent of com-
ptaining to themT Had he overcome a repugnajice
vbich he had repeatedly adniitted, and thrust himself
78 A PRINCKSS OF TBlJUt.
upon these two people for this very purpose l
ing him, Lavender, odious and contemptibleJ La-
vendet's cheeks bumed as he thought of this pos-
sibility. Mrs. Lorraine had been most courteous to
him; but the longer he dwek on these vague sunnises,
the deeper grew bis coosciousness that be had been
lurned out of the place, morally if not physically,
What was that excess of courtesy but a cloak) If she
had raeant less, she would have been more careless;
and all through the interview he had remarked ial,
instead of the free warfare of talk that generally went
on between them, Mrs. Lorraine was most formally
polite, and appaiently watchful of her words.
He went home in a passion, which was all the
more consuming that it could not be vented on any-
one. As Sheila had not spoken to Ingram as she
had even nerved herseif to wound him by passing him
without notice in the street she could not be held
responsible; and yet he wished that he could have up-
braided some one for this mischief that had been
done. Should he go straight down to Ingram's lodg-
ings, and have it out with hiroi At first he was
strongly incUned to do so; but wiser counsels pre-
vaed. Ingram had a keen and ready tongue; and a
way of saying things that made them rankle afterwards
in the memory. Besides, he would go into court with
a defective case. He could say nothing, unless Ingram
admitted that he had tried to poison the mind of Mrs.
Lorraine against him; and, of course, if there was a
quarrel, who would be so foolish as to make such an
admissioni Ingram would laugh at him; would refuse
to admit or deny; would increase his anger without
affording him an opportunity of revenging himself.
Sheila could see that her husband was troublcd^
sheila's stratagem. 79
but could not divine the cause, and had long ago
given up any habit of inquiry. He ate his dinner al-
mosC in silence, and then said he had to make a call
on a friend, and that he would perhaps drop in to the
club on his way home, so that she was not to sit up
for him. She was not surprised or hurt at the an-
nouncement. She was accustomed to spend her even-
ings alone. She fetched down his cigar-case, put it in
his top'Coat pocket, and brought him the coat Then
he kissed her, and went out.
But this evening, at least, she had abundant oc-
cnpation, and that of a suffictently pleasanl kind. For
some iiltle time she had been harbouring in her mind a
dark and mysterious plot, and she was glad of an op-
portunity to Ihink it out and arrange its details. Main
was Coming to London; and she had carefully con-
cealcd the fact from her husband. A little surprise,
of a dramatic sort, was to be prepared for him; with
bat resuli, who could telll All of a sudden La-
vender was to be precipilated into the island of Lewis,
as nearly as that could be imitated in a house at
Notting Hill.
This was Sheila's scheme, and on these lonely
evenings she could sit by herseif with much satisfac-
tion and ponder over (he little points of it and its
possible success. Mairi was Coming to London under
the escort of a worthy Glasgow fishraonger whom Mr.
Mackenzie knew. She would arrive after Lavender
had left for his studio. Then she and Sheila would
et to work to transforra the smoking room, that was
metimes called a library, into something resembling
die quainl little drawing-room in Sheila's home. Mairi
was bringing up a quantity of heather gatbered fresh
fiom the rocks beside the White Watcr; she was
i
i
s
u
80 A PRINCESS OF THLE.
bringiDg up some peacocks' feathers, too, for the
manlelpiece, and two or tliree big shells; and, best of
all, she was to put in her trunk a real and veritable
lump of peat, well dried, and easy to light. Then yoil
must know that Sheila Tiad already skelched out the
meal that was to be placed on the table, so soon aa
the room had been done up in the Highland fashion,
and this peat lit, so as to send its fragrant smoke
abroad. A large salmon was to make its appearance
first of all. There would be bottles of beer on the
table; also one of those bottles of Norwegian make,
filjed with Whisky. And when Lavender went witk
wonder into this small room, when he smelt the
fragrant peat-smoke and everyone knows how power-
ful the sense of smell is in recalling bygone associa-
tions when he saw the smoking salmon, and the
bottled beer and the whisky and when he suddenly
found Mairi Coming into the room, and saying to him,
in her sweet Highland fashion, "And are you feny
well, sir)" would not his heart warm to the old ways
and kindly horaeliness of the house in Borva, and
would not some glimpse of the happy and half-for-
gotten time that was now so sadly and strangely re-
mote, cause him to break down that barrier between
himself and Sheila that this artilicial life in the Soui
had placed therel
So the child dreamed; and was happy in dream-
ing of it. Sometimes she grew afraid of her projeet;
she had not had much experience in deception, and
the raere concealment of Mairi's coming was a hard
thing to bear. But surely her husband would take
this trick in good part. It was only, after all, a joke.
To put a lite barbaric splendour of decoration into
quiet little smoking-roomj to have a scent of peat-
sheila's STKATAGEM. 8l
smoice in the air; and to have 3 timid, sweet-voiced,
pretty Highland girl suddenly make her appearance,
wilh an odour of the sea aboul her, as it were, and a.
look of fresh breezes in the colour of her cheeks
what mortal man could find fault with this innocent
jesti Sheila's moments of doubt were succeeded by
long houTS of joyous coniidence, in which a happy
light shone on her face. She went through the house
with a brisk step; she sang to herseif as she wentj she
s kinder than ever to the small children who came
into the Square every forenoon, and whose acquainl-
ance she had very speedily made; she gave each of
her crossing-sweepers threepence instead of twopence
I passing. The servants had never seen her in such
good spirits; she was exceptionaUy generous in pre-
senting them with articles of attire; they might have
had half the week in holidays if Mr. Lavender had not
to be attended to. A small gentleman of three years
of 3ge lived next door, and hts acquaintance also she
had made, by means of his nurse. At this time his
Stock of toys, which Sheila had kept carefully renewed,
became so big, that he might, with proper manage-
ment, have set up a stall in the Lowther Arcade.
Just before she left Lewis, her father had called
ber to him, and said^
"Sheila. I wass wanting to teil you about some-
thing. It is not everyone that will care to hef his
money given away to poor folk, and it wass many a
lime I Said to myself that when you were married
maybe your husband would think you were giving too
Drach money to the poor folk, as you wass doing in
Borva. And it iss this fifty pounds I hef got for you,
Shetia, in len bank-notes, and you will take them with
JOU for your own money, that you will not hef any
A J'rtmta 0/ TAi-lr. if. 6
&2 A PKINCESS UF THVLE.
ttouble aboat giving things to peaple. And when the
fifty pounds wl be done, I will send you another fifty
pounds, and it will be no dTerence to me whalever.
And if there is any one in Borva you would be for
sending money to, there is your own money; for there
is many a one would take the money &om Sheila
Mackenzie that would not be for taking it from an
English Btranger in London. And when you will send
il to Ihem, you will send it to mc; and I will tek it to
them, and I will teil Ihem ihat this money is from n^
Sheila, and from no one eise whatever."
This was all the dowry that Sheila carried witk
her to the South. Mackenzie would wlingly have
given her half his money, if she would have
taken it, or if her husband had desired it; bul Ihe old
king of Borva had profound and far-reaching schemet
in his head about the small fortune he might olhcr-
wise have accorded to his daughter. This wealih,
such as it was, was to be a magnet to draw this young
English gentleman back to the Hebrides. It was
very well for Mr. Lavender to have plenty of money
at present; he might not always have it. Then the
time would come for Mackenzie to say, "Look her,
young man; I can support myself easily and comforl-
abiy by my fatming and fishing. The money I hart
saved is at your disposal, so long as you consent
remain in Lewis^in Stomoway, if you please,^elie-
where if you please only in Lewis. And while you
are painting pictures, and making as much money ai
you can that way, you can have plenty of fishing, and
shooting, and amusemenl: and my guns and boats and
rods are all at your service." Mr. Mackenzie considered
Ihat no man coold resist such an offer.
Sheila, of course, told her husband of the sum of
sheila's stratagem. Ss
money she owned; and for a long time it was a Stand-
ing joke between them. He addressed her with much
respect, and was careful to inform her of the fluctua-
tions of the money-market Sometimes he borrowed
a sovereign of her; and never without giving her an
I O U, which was faithfuUy reclaimed. But by and by
she perceived that he grew less and less to like the
mention of this money. Perhaps it resembled too
closely the savings which the over-cautious folks about
Borvabost would not entrust to a bank, but kept
hidden about their huts in the heel of a stocking. At
all events, Sheila saw that her husband did not like
her to go to this fund for her charities; and so the
fifty pounds that her father had given her lasted a
long time. During this period of jubilation, in which
she looked forward to touching her husband's heart
by an innocent little stratagem, more frequent appeals
were made to the drawer in which the treasiure was
locked up, so that in the end her private dowry was
reduced to thirty pounds.
If Ingram could have but taken part in this plan
of hers! The only regret that was mingled with her
anticipations of a happier future concemed this faith-
ful friend of hers, who seemed to have been cut oflf
from them for ever. And it soon became apparent to her
that her husband, so far from inclining to forget the mis-
understanding that had arisen between Ingram and him-
self , seemed to feel increased resentment, insomuch that
she was most careful to avoid mentioning his name.
She was soon to meet him, however. Lavender
was resolved that he would not appear to have retired
from the field, merely because Ingram had entered it.
He would go to this dinner on the Tuesday evening,
and Sheila would accompany him. First he asked her.
6
&4 A PBINCESS OF THLfi.
Much as she would have preferred not visiting these
particuiar people, she cheerfuUy acquiesced; she was
not going to be churtish or inconsiderate on the veiy
eve of her dramatic coup. Then he went lo Mrs. Lor-
raine, and said he had persuaded Sheila to come with
them; and the young American lady and her mamma
were good enough to say how glad they were she had
come to this decision. They appeared to take it for
granied that it was Shea alone who had declined
form er invitatioos.
"Mr. Ingram will be there on Tuesday evening,"
Said Lavender to his wife.
"I was not aware he knew them," said Shea, te-
membering, indeed, how scrupulously Ingram had re-
fused to know them.
"He has made their acquaintance for his own pur-
poses, doubtless," said Lavender. "I suppose he will
appear in a frock-coat, with a bright blue lie, and he'
will say 'Sir' to the waiters when he does not under-
stand them."
"I thought you said Mr. Ingram belonged to a yeiy
good family," said Sheila, quiedy.
"That is so. But each man is responsible for hia
own manners; and as all the society he sees consisb
of a cat and some wooden pipes, in a couple of dingy
rooras in Sloane Street, you can't expect him not lo
make an ass of himself."
"I have never seen him make himself ridiculous:
I do not think it possible," said Sheila, with a cercain
precision of speech which Lavender had got to know
meant much. "But that is a matter for himself, Per-
haps you will teil me what 1 am to do when I meet
him at Mrs. Kavanagh's house."
"Of course, you must meet him as yoii would any-
sheila's stratagem. 85
one eise you know. If you don't wish to speak to
him, you need not do so. Saying *Good evening'
costs nothing."
"If he takes me in to dinnerl" she asked, calmly.
"Then you must talk to him as you would to any
stranger," he said, irapatiently. "Ask him if he has
been to the opera, and he won't know there is no
opera going on. Teil him that town is very fll, and
he won't know that everybody has left. Say you may
meet him again at Mrs. Kavanagh's, and you'U see
that he doesn't know they mean to start for the Tyrol
in a fortnight. I think you and I must also be settling
soon where we mean to go. I don't think we could
do better than go to the Tyrol."
She did not answer. It was clear that he had
given up all intention of going up to Lewis, for that
year at least. But she would not beg him to alter his
decision just yet Main was Coming; and that experi-
ment of the enchanted room had still to be tried.
As they drove round to Mrs. Kavanagh's house on
that Tuesday evening, she thought, with much bitter-
ness of heart, of the possibility of her having to meet
Mr. Ingram in the fashion her husband had suggested.
Would it not be better, if he did take her in to dinner,
to throw herseif entirely on his mercy, and ask him
not to talk to her at all) She would address herseif
wheo there was a chance, to her neighbour on the
other side: if she remained silent altogether, no great
hrm would be done.
When she went into the drawing-room, her first
glance round was for him, and he was the first person
whom she saw. For, instead of withdrawing into a
comer to make one neighbour the victim of his shy-
nesSy or concealing his embarrassment in studying the
86
m
Photographie albums, Mr. Ingram was coolly
on the hearthrug, with both hands in his trouser^
pockets, whe he was engaged in giving the American
Judge a great deal of authoritative information about
America. The Judge was a tail, fair, stout, good-
natured man, fond of joking and a good dinner; and
he was content at this moment lo sit quietly in an
easy-chair, with a pleasant smile on his face, and be
lectured aboul his own country by this sallow litlle
man, whom he took to be a Professor of Modern His-
toiy at some University or other.
Ingram, as soon as he found that Sheila was in
the room, relieved her from any doubt as to his in-
tentions. He merely came forward, shook hands with
her, Said, "How do you do, Mis. Lavender?" and wenl
back to the Judge. She might have been an acquaint-
ance of yesterday, or a ftiend of iwenty years' Stand-
ing; no one could teU "by his manner. As for Shell,
she parted with his band reliictantly. She tried to
look, too, whaC she dared not say; but whatever of
regret, and kindness, and assurance of friendship wai
in her eyes, he did not see. He scarcely glanced at
her face; he went off at once, and plunged again into
the Cincinnali Convention.
Mrs. Kavanagh and Mrs. Lorraine were cxceediogly
and almost obtrusively kind to her; but she scarcely
heard what they said to her. It seeined so strnge
and so sad to her that her old friend should be sCand-
ing near her, and she so far removed from him thal
she dared not go and speak to him. She could not
understand it soraetimes everything around her seeined
to get confused, unt she feit as if she were sinking
in a great sea, and could utter but one despairing oy'
as she saw the light disappear above her head. Wben
sheila's
they went in to dinner, she saw that Mr. Ingram's seal
was o'n Mrs. Lorraine's right band; and although she
could hear him speak, as he vas almost right opposite
lo her, it seemed to her that his voice sounded as if
it were far away. The man who had taken her in was
i fall, brown-whiskered, and faultlessly-dressed person
who never spoke; so that she was allowed to sit and
listen to the conversation between Mrs. Lorraine and
Ingram. They appeared to be on excellent terms.
You would have fancied they had known each other
for years. And as Shea sat and saw how pre-occupied
and pleased with his companion Mr. Ingram was, per-
hapa now and again the bitter question arose to her
iiind, whether this woman, who had taken away her
husband, was seeking to take away her friend also.
Sheila knew nothing of all that had happened within
these past few days. She knew on!y that she was
ne^without etther husband or friend; and itseemed
to her that this pale American girl had taken both
away froin her.
Ingram was in one of his happiest moods, and
was seeking to prove to Mrs. Lorraine that this presenl
dinner-party ought to be an especially pleasant one.
Everybody was going away somewhere; and, of course,
she must know that the expectation of travelling was
much raore deltghtful than the reality of iL What
could surpass the sense of freedom, of power, of hope
enjoyed by the happy folks who sat down to an open
alias, and began to sketch out routes for their coming
holidayat Where was he goingl Oh, he was going
to the North. Had Mrs. Lorraine never seen Edin-
liaT]gh Castle rising out of a grey fog, like the ghost
o( aome great building belonging to the titnes of
AitburiaQ lomancel Had she never seen the north ern
twilights, and the awful gloom and wild colours of
Loch Coruisk and the Skye hills) There was no
holiday-raaking so healthy, so free from lestraint, as
that among the far Highland hills and glens, where
the clear mountain air, scented with miles and miles
of heather, seemed to produce a sort of intosication
of good spirits within one. Then the yachting round
the wonderful Islands of the West the rapid runs of
a bright forenoon, the shooting of the wild sea-birds,
the scrambied dinners in the small cabin. the still
nights in the small harbours, with a scent of sea-weed
abroad, and ihc white stars shining down on the trem-
bling water. Yes, he was going yachting this autunm
in about a fortnight he hoped to statt. His friend
was at present away up Loch Boisdaie, in South Uist,
and he did not know how to get there except by
going to Skye, and taking his chance of some boat
going over. Where would they go thenl He did
not know. Wherever his friend liked. It would be
enough for him if they kept moving about, seeing the
Strange sights of the sea, and the air, and the Jonely
shores of Ihose northern islands. Perhaps they mig
even try to reach St KUda
" Oh, Mr. Ingram, won't you go and see my papa!" |
The cry that suddenly reached him was like ihe
cry of a broken heart. He started as from a trance,
and found Sheila regarding him with a piteous appeal
in her face; she had been listening intently to a!l he
had Said.
"Oh yes, Sheila," he said, kindly, and quite for-
getting that he was speaking to her before strangasj
"of course I must go and see your papa, if we are any
way near the Lewis. Perhaps you may be there thenl"
"No," Said Sheila, looking down.
sheila's stratagem. 89
**Wn*t you go to the Highlands this autumni"
Mrs. Lorraine asked, in a friendly way.
"No," Said Sheila, in a measured voice, as she
looked her enemy fair in the face; "I think we are
going to the Tyrol/*
If the child had only known what occurred to Mrs.
Lorraine's mind at this moment! Not a triumphant
sense of Lavender's infatuation, as Sheila probably
fancied; but a very definite resolution that, if Frank
Lavender went to the Tyrol, it was not with either
her or her mother he should go.
"Mrs. Lavender's father is an old friend of mine,"
Said Ingram, loud enough for all to hear; "and hospi-
table as all Highlanders are, I have never met his
equal in that way, and I have tried his patience a
good many times. What do you think, Mrs. Lorraine,
of a man who would give up his best gun to you,
even though you couldn't shoot a bit, and he par-
ticularly proud of his shootingl And so, if you lived
with him for a month or six months each day the
best of everything for you, the second-best for your
friend, the worst for himself. Wasn't it so, Lavender?"
It was a direct challenge sent across the table;
and Sheila's heart beat quick lest her husband should
say something ungracious.
"Yes, certainly," said Lavender, with a readiness
that pleased Sheila; "I at least have no right to com-
piain of his hospitality."
"Your papa is a very handsome man," said Mrs.
Lorraine to Sheila, bringing the conversation back to
their own end of the table "I have seen few finer
heads than that drawing you have. Mr. Lavender did
that, did he not? Why has he never done one of you?"
"He is too busy, I think, just now," Sheila said;
perhaps not knowing that from Mrs. Lorraine's waist-
belt at that moment depended a fan which might
have given evidence as to the extreme scarcity of time
under which Lavender was supposed to labour.
"He has a splendid head," said Ingram. "Did yoii
know that he is called the King of Borva up there!"
"I have heard him being called the King of
Thule," Said Mrs. Lorraine, turning with a smile to
Sheila, "and of his daiigbter being styled a. Princess.
Do you know the ballad of the King of Thule in
'Faust,' Mrs. Lavender 1"
"In the opera? yes," said Sheila.
"Will you sing It for us after dinnerl"
"If you like."
The promise was fulfilied, in a fashion. The no-
tion that Mr. Ingram was about to go away up to
Lewis, to the people who knew her, and to her father's
house, with no possible answer to the questions which
would certainly be showered upon him as to why she
bad not come also, troubled Shea deeply. The
ladies went into the drawing-room, and Mrs. Lorraine
got out the Eong. Sheila sat down to the piano, think-
ing far more of that snnall stone house at Borva than
of the King of Thule's castle overlooking the sea; and
yet somehow the first lines of the song, though she
knew them well enough, sent a pang to her heart as
she glanced at them. She touched the first notes of
the accompaniment, and she looked at the words
again.
A misl came over her eyes. Was she the one who
had deparced, leaving the old King in his desolate
house by the sea, where he could only think of hi
sheila's stratageh. qi
sat in his solitary Chamber, with the night winds
liowling round the shore outsidei When her birthday
had come round , she knew thal he must have silently
drunk to her, though not out of a beaker of go!d.
And now, when mere friends and acquaintances were
free to speed away to the North, and get a welcome
from the fotks in Borva, and listen to the Atlantic
waves dashing lightjy in among the rocks, her hope
of getting thither had almost died out. Among such
people as landed on Stomoway quay from the big
Clansman, her father would seek one face, and seek it
in vain. And Duncan, and Scarlett, and even John
the Piper all the well -rem embered folks who lived
far away across the Minch they would ask why Miss
Sheila was never coming back. Mrs. Lorraine had
bcen Standing aside from the piano. Noticing that
Sheila had played the introduction to the song twice
over, in an undetermined manner, she came forward
a Step or two, and pretended to be looking at the
music ^'ears were running down Sheila's face, Mrs.
Lorraine put her hand on ihe gjrl's Shoulder, and
sheltered her from Observation, and said aloud
"You have it in a different key, have you noti
Pray don't sing it. Sing something eise. Do you
know any of Goimod's sacred songs? Let me see if
we can find anything for you in this volume."
They were a long time finding anything in that
volume. When they did find it, behold! it was one of
Mre. Lorraine's songs, and that young lady said, if
Mis. Lavender would only allow herseif to be super-
seded for a few minutes And so Sheila walked,
wiih her head down, to the conservatory, which was
t the other end of the piano; and Mrs. Lorraine not
oidy sung this French song, but sang every one of the
92 A PRINCESS OP TROLK.
Verses; and at the end of it she bad quite forgotten
that Sheila had promised to sing.
"You are very sensitive," she said to Sheila, Com-
ing ioto the conservatory.
"I am very stupid," Sheila said, with her face
buming. "But it is a long time since I will see the
Highlands and Mr. Ingram was talking of the places
I know and and so "
"I understand well enough," said Mrs. Loiraine,
lenderly, as if Sheila were a mere child in her hands.
"But you must not get your eyes red. You have lo
sing some of those Highland songs for us yet, when
the gentlemen come in. Come up to niy room, and
I will make your eyes all right Oh, do not be afraidl
I shall not bring you down like Lady Leveret. Did
you ever see anything like that woman's face to-
night? It reminds me of the window of a; ~
colour shop: I wonder she does not catch flies with
her cheeks."
So all the people, Sheila leamed that night, were
going away from London; and soon she and her hus-
band would join in the general stampede of the very
last dwellers in town. But Mairil What was to be-
come of her after that litde p!ot had been played
outi Sheila could not leave Mairi to see London by
herseif; she had been enjoying beforehand the deh'ght
of taking the young girl about, and watching the
wonder of her eyes. Nor could she fairly postpooe
Mairi's visit; and Mairi was Coming up in another
couple of days.
On the moming on which the visitor from the far
Hebrides was to make her appearance in London,
Sheita feit conscious of a great hypocrisy in bidding
good-bye to her husband. On some excuse or
sheila's stratagem. 93
she had had breakfast ordered early; and he found
himself ready at half-past nine to go out for the day.
"Frank," she said, "will you come in to lunch at
twol"
"Whyl" he asked: he did not often have luncheon
at home.
"I will go into the Park with you in the after-
noon, if you like," she said: all the scene had been
diligently rehearsed, on one side, before.
Lavender was a little surprised, but he was in an
amiable mood.
"All right," he said. "Have something with olives
in it Two sharp/'
With that he went out; and Sheila, with a wild
commotion at her heart, saw him walk away through
the Square. She was afraid Mairi might have arrived
before he left. And, indeed, he had not gone above
a few minutes when a four-wheeler drove up, and an
elderly man got out and waited for the timid-faced
girl inside to alight With a rush like that of a
Startled deer, Sheila was down the stairs, along the
hall, and on the pavement; and it was, "Oh, Mairi!
and have you come at last? And are you very well?
And how are all the people in Borva? And, Mr.
M* Alpine, how are you, and will you come into the
house?"
Certainly, that was a strnge sight for a decorous
London square; the mistress of a house, a young girl
with bare head, Coming out on the pavement to shake
hands in a frantic fashion with a young maid-servant
and an elderly man whose clothes had been pretty
well tanned by sunlight and sea-water. And Sheila
would herseif help to carry Mairi's luggage in. And
she would take no denial from Mr. M^ Alpine, whosQ
94 ^ PRINCESS OF THULE.
luggage was also carried in. Aad she would heiself
pay Ihe cabman, as strangers did not know about
these things: Shea's knowledge being exhibited by
her hastily giving Ihe man five Shillings for driving
from Euston Station. And there was breakfast wait-
ing for them both, as soon as Mairi could get her
face washed; and would Mr. M'Alpine have a gtass of
whisky after the night's traveiling? and it was very
good Whisky whatever, as it had come all the way
from Stomoway. Mr. M'Alpine was nothing loih.
"And wass you pretty well, Miss SheilaJ" said
Mairi, looking timidly and hastily up, and forgetting
altogether that Sheila had another name now. "It
will be a great thing for me to go back to sa Lewis,
and teil thetn I wass seeing you, and you wass look-
ing so well. And I will be lliinking I wass neffcr
Coming to anyone 1 knew any more! and it is a
great fright I hef had since we came away from sa
Lewis; and I wass thinking we would neffer find you
among all sa people and so far away across sa sea
and sa land. Eh !" The girl stopped in astonish-
ment. Her eyes had wandered up to a portrail on
the walls; and here, in this very room, afler she had
travelled over all this great distance, apparently leav-
ing behind her everything but ihe memory of her home,
was Mr. Mackenzie himself, looking at her from under
his shaggy eyebrows.
"You must have seen that picture in Borva, Maiii,"
Sheila said. "Now come with me, like a good girl,
and get yourself ready for breakfast Do you kiiow,
Mairi, it does my heart good to hear you talk again.
I don't think I shall be able to let you go back to the
Lewis."
"But you hef changed ferry much in your way
SHEILA'S STKATACEM. 95
of speaking, Miss Mrs. Lavender," said Mairi, wiili
an effort. "You will speak jiist like sa English now."
"The English don't say so," replied Sheila, with a
smile, leading the way upstairs.
Mr. M'Alpine had his buainess to attend to; but,
being a sensible man, he took advantage of the profuse
breakfast placed before him. Mairi was a little too
frightened, and nervous, and happy to eat much; but
Mr. M'Alpine was an old traveller, not to be put out
by Ihe mere meeting of two girls. He listened in a
grave and complacent manner to the rapid questions
and answers of Mairi and her hostess; but he himself
was too busy to join in the conversation much. At
the end of breakfast, he accepted, after a lilde press-
ing, half a glass of whisky; and then, much comforted
and in a thoroughly good humour with him seif and
the World, got his luggage out again and weot on his
way towards a certain inn in High Holbom,
"Ay, and where does the Queen live, Miss Sheila!"
Said Mairi. She had been looking at the fumiture in
Sheila's house, and wondering if the Queen lived in
a. place still more beautiful than this,
"A long way from here."
"And it iss no wonder," said Mairi, "she will neffer
lief been in sa Lewis. I wass neffer thinking the world
wass so big, and it wass many a time since me and
Mr. M'Alpine hef coroe away from Styomoway, I wass
thinking it wass too far for me effer to get back
again. But it is many a one will say to me, before I
hef left the Lewis, that I wass not to come hotne unless
you wass coming too, and I wass to bring you back with
me, Miss Sheila. And where is Bras, Miss Sheilal"
"You will sce him by and by. He is out in the
w." She said 'gyarden' without kaowing iL
,6
"And will he understood the Gaelic yeti'
"Oh yes," Sheila said, "and he is sure to remember
you,"
There was no mistaie about that. When Matri
went into the back-garden, the demonstrations of
delight on the part of the great deerhound wcre as
pronounced as his dignity and gravity would allow,
And Main fairly fei! upon his neck and kissed him,
and addressed to hini a hundred endearing phrases in
Gaeiic, every word of which it was quite obvious that
the dog understood. London was already beginning
to be less tenible to her, She had met and talked
with Sheila. Here was Bras. A portrait of the King
of Borva was hiing up inside, and all
rooms were articles which she had known in the North,
before Sheila had married and brought them away into
this Strange land.
"You have never asked after my husband, Mairi,"
said Sheila, thinking she would confuse the girj,
But Mairi was not coDfused. Probably she had
been fancying that Mr. Lavender was down at die
shore, or had gone out fishing, or something of that
sort, and would retiira soon enougb. It was Sheila,
not he, whom she was concerned about, Indeed,
Mairi had caught up a little of that jealousy of Lavender
which was rife among the Borva folks. They would
speak no ill of Mr. Lavender. The young gentleman
whom Miss Sheila had chosen had by that very fact a
Claim upon their respect. Mr. Mackenzie's son-in-la*
was a person of importance. And yet, in their secret
hearts, they bore a grudge against him. What rjght
had he to come away up to the North and carry off
the very pride of the islandl Were English girls nol
good enou^h foi him that he must needs come up
sheila's stratagem. 97
and take away Sheila Mackenzie, and keep her there
in the South so that her friends and acquaintances
saw no more of her? Before the marriage, Main had
1 great liking and admiration. for Mr. Lavender. She
was so pleased to see Miss Sheila pleased that she
approved of the young man, and thanked him in her
heart for making her cousin and mistiess so obviously
happy. Perhaps, indeed, Mairi managed to fall in
lovc with him a little bit herseif, merely by force of
example and through sympathy with Sheila; and she
was rapidly forming very good opinions of theEnglish
race, and their ways, and their looks. Bat when
Lavender took away Shea from Borva, a change
came over Mairi's sentiments. She gradually feil in
with the current opinions of the island that it was a
great pity Sheila had not tnarried young Mr. Mac-
Inlyre, of Sutherland, or some who would have al-
lowed her to remain among her own people, Mairi
began to think that the English, though they were
handsome, and good-natured, and free with iheir
inoney, were on the whole a selfish race, inconsiderate,
and forgetfiil of promises. She began to dislike the
English, and wished they would stay in their own
country, and not interfere with other people.
"1 hope he is ferry well," said Mairi, dutifuUy; she
could at least say that honestly.
"You will see him at two o'clock. He is coming
in to luncheon; and he does not know you are here;
and you are lo be a great surprise to him, Mairi. And
tbere is to be a grealer surprise still; for we are going
to malte one of the rooms into the drawing-room at
hoine; and you must open your boxes, and bring me
down the heather and the peat, Mairi, and the two
bottles; snd then, you know, when the salmon is on
^^^^^BUl
the uble, and Ae VH^PVHft beer, and Bras
Ifing oo the heaitfarng, and e peat-smoke all through
e room, theo you will come in and shake bands with
him, and be wi thiok he is in Borva again."
Maiii was a little piizzled. Sbe did not understand
tbe intentton of this strnge tfaing. Bul she wcat and
fetched the matenals sbe bad brought with her from
Lewis, and Sheila and laiii set to work.
It was a pleasant enougb occupation for this bright
forenoon, and Sheila, as she heard Mairi's sweet High-
land Speech, aod as sbe brought from all parts of the
house the curiosities sent her from the Hebrides, would
almost have fancied she was super int endiog a "clean-
ing" of that museum-liise little drawing-roora al Bon-a.
Skins of foxes, seals, and deer, stulfed eagles and strnge
fisbes, masses of coral and wonderful carvings in wood
brought from abroad, shells of every size from evety
clime all these were brought together into Frank La-
vender's smoking-room. The ordinary omaments of
the mantelpiece gave way to fanciful arrangements of
peacocks' featbers. Fre^-blown ling and the beaud-
ful Spikes of the bell-heather formed the staple of ihe
decorations, and Mairi had brought enougb to adom
an assembly-room.
"That is like the Lewis people," Sbea said, with
a laugh she had not been in as bappy a mood for
many a day. "I asked you to bring one peat, and of
course you brought two. Teil the truth, Mairi; coul4
you have forced yourself to bring one peal$"
"I wass thinking it was safer to bring sa two," re-
piied Mairi, blushing all over the fair and pretty face
And, indeed, there being two peats, Sheila thought
might as well try an experiment with one. Sbe
imbled down some pieces, put them on a plate, Ijt
sheila's stratagem.
yy
m, and placed the plate outside the open window,
the sill, Presently a new, sweet, half-forgotten fra-
grance came floaling in; and Sheila almost forgot the
success of the experiment in the half-delighted, half-
sad reminiscences called up by the scent of the peat.
Mairi ajled to see how anyone could wilftilly smoke
a house anyone, that is to say, who did not save the
ikc for his thatch. And who was so paiticular as
Sheila had been about having the clothes come in
from the washing dried, so that they should not retain
this very odour that seemed tiow to deiight her)
At last the room was finished, and Sheila con-
templatcd it with much satisfaction. The table was
laid, and on the white cloth stood the bottles most
familir to Borva. The peat-smoke still lingered in the
ir; she could not have wished anything to be better.
Then she went off to look aftet luncheon, and Mairi
was pennitted to go down and explore the mysteries
of ihe kitchen. The servants were not accustomed lo
this interference and oversjght, and migiithave resented
I only that Sheila had proved a very good mistress
to them, and had shown, too, that she would have her
own way when she wanted it. Suddenly, as Sheila was
C3tplaining to Mairi ihe use of some parlicular piece
of mechantsm, she heard a sound that made her heart
jump. It was now hut hatf-past one: and yet that was
suicly her husband's foot in the hall. For a monnent
: was too bewildered to know what to do. She
faeard him go straight into the very room she had
been decorating, the door of which she had Icft open.
Then, as she went upstairs, with her heart still beat-
ing fast, the first thing that met her eye was a larlan
sbawl belonging to Mairi that had been accidentally
left io the passage. Her husband miut have scen it.
lOO A PRINCESS OF TBULS.
"Sheila, what nonsense is thist" he said.
He was evidently in a hurry; and yet she could
not answer, her heart was throbbing too quickly.
"Look here," he said, "I wish you'd give np this
grotto-making tiD to-morrow. Mrs. Kavanagh, Mrs.
Lorraine, and Lord Arthur Redmond are comiog in
lo luncheon at two. I suppose you can get something
decent for them. What is the matlerT What is the
meaning of all thisl"
And then his eye rested on the taitan shawl, which
he had really not noticed before.
"Who is in the housel" he said, "Have you asked
some washerwoman to lunch)"
Shea managed at last to say
"It is Mairi come from Stornoway. I was thinking
you wouldbesurprised toseeher whenyoucamem "
"And these preparations are for her!"
Sheila said nothing; there was that in the tone f
her husband's voice which was gradually bringing her
to herseif, and giving her quite sufficient firmness,
"And now that this girl has come up, I suppose
you mean to introduce her to all your friends; and I
suppose you expect those people who are coming in
half an hour to sit down at table with a kilchen-maidl"
"Mairi," said Sheila, standing quite erect, bot with
her eyes casi down, "is my cousin."
"Your cousin! Don't he ridiculous, Sheila. Yoa
know very well that Mairi is nothing more nor less
than a scullery-maid, and I suppose you mean to take
her out of the kitchen, and introduce her to peoplfir
and expect them to sit down at table with theto. &
not that so)"
She did not answer, and he went on, impatientl/,
" Why was I not told that this girl was coming '
SHEILA'S STRATAGEM. 101
at my house? Surely I have some right to know what
guests you invite, that I may be able at least to ask
my friends not to come near the house while they are
in it"
"That I did not teil you before yes, that was a
pity," Said Sheila, sadly and calmly. "But it will be
no trouble to you. When Mrs. Lorraine comes up at
two o'clock, there will be luncheon for her and for her
friends. She will not have to sit down with any of my
relations, or with me, for if they are not fit to meet
her, I am not; and it is not any great matter that I
shall not meet her at two o'clock."
There was no passion of any sort in the measured
and sad voice, nor in the somewhat pale face and
downcast eyes. Perhaps it was this composure that
deceived Frank Lavender; at all events, he tumed and
walked out of the house, satisfied that he would not
have to introduce this Highland cousin to his friends,
and just as certain that Sheila would repent of her re-
solve, and appear in the dining-room as usual.
Sheila went downstairs to the kitchen, where Mairi
still stood awaiting her. She gave Orders to one of the
senrants about having luncheon laid in the dining-
room at two, and then she bade Mairi follow her upstairs.
"Mairi," she said, when they were alone, "I want
you to put your things in your trunk at once in five
minutes if you can I shall be waiting for you."
"Miss Sheila!" cried the girl, looking up to her
friend's face with a sudden fright seizing her heart
''What is the matter with you? You are going to die!"
"There is nothing the matter, Mairi. I am going
away."
She uttered the words placidly; but there was a
pained look about the Ups that could not be con-
I03 A PRINCE5S OP THDLC
cealed, and hei face, unknown to heareelf, had the white-
ness of despaii in it
"Going awayl" said Main, in a bewUdered way.
"Where are you going, Miss Sheilal"
"I will teil you by and by. Get your trunk ready,
Main. You are keeping me waiting."
Then she called for a servant, who was senl for a
cab; and by the time the vehicie appeared, Mairi was
ready to get inlo it, and her trunk was put on the top.
Then, clad in the rough blue dress that she used to
wear in Borra, and with no appearance of haste ot
fear in the calm and death-like face, Sheila came out
from her husband's house, and found herseif alone in
the World. There were two little girls, the daughters
of a neighbour, passing by at the time; she patted
thena on the head, and bade them good-moming.
Could she recoUect, five minutes thereafter, having
Seen themt There was a strnge and distant look in
her eyes, She got into the cab, and sat down by
Mairi, and then took the giil's band.
"I am sorry to take you away, Mairi," she said;
but she was apparently not thinking of Mairi, nor of
the house she was leaving, nor yet of the vehicie in
which she was so strangely placed. Was she thinking
of a certain wild and wet day in the far Hebrides,
when a young bride stood on the decks of a greal
vessel, and saw the home of her childhood and the
friends of her youth fade back into the desolate wasle
of the sea) Perhaps there tnay have been some im-
conscious influence in this picture to direct her movc-
ments at this nioment, for definite resolves she had
none, When Mairi told her that the cabman wanted
to know whither he was to drivc, she raerely answeied,
"Oh yes, Mairi, we will go to the Station;" and Msiri
A NEW DAY BREAKS. I03
added, addressing the man, "It was the Euston Station."
Then they drove away.
"Are you going homel" said the young girl, look-
ing up with a strnge foreboding and sinking of the
heart to the pale face and distant eyes. "Are you go-
ing home, Miss Sheilal"
"Oh yes, we are going home, Mairi," was the an-
swer she got; but the tone in which it was uttered
filled her mind with doubt and something like despair.
CHAPTER V.
A new Day breaks.
Was this, then, the end of the fair and beautiful
romance that had sprung up and blossomed so hope-
fully in the remote and bleak island, amid the silence
of the hls and moors and the wild twilights of the
north, and set round about, as it were, by the cold
sea-winds and the sound of the Atlantic wavesi Who
could have fancied, looking at those two young folks
as they wandered about the shores of the island, as
they sailed on the still moonlight nights through the
Channels of Loch Roag, or as they sang together of
an evening in the little parlour of the house at
Borvabost, that all the delight and wonder of life
then apparently opening out before them was so
soon and so suddenly to collapse, leaving them in
outer darkness and despairl All their difficulties had
been got over. From one side and from another they
had received generous help, friendly advice, self-sacri-
fice to Start them on a path that seemed to be strewn
with sweet-smelling flowers. And here was the end a
wretched girl, blinded and bewildered, flying from her
husband's house and seeking refuge in the great world
of LondoUi careless whither she went.
104 A rlNCS OF TUULE.
Whose was the fault) Which of them had beea
mistaken up there in the North, laying the way optn
for a bitter disappointmentl Or had either of them
failed to carry out that unwritten contract entered into
in the halcyon period of courtship, by which two
young people promise to be and remain to each other
all that they then appearl
Lavendel, at least, had no right to complain. If
the real Sheila turned out to be something dlfTerent to
the Sheila of his fancy, he had been abundaatly waraed
that such would be the case. He had even accepted
it as probable, and said that as the Shea whom he
might come to know mast doubtless be better than the
Sheila whom he had imagined, there was little danger
in Store for either. He would love the tme Sheila
even better than the creature of his brain. Had he
done so) He found beside him this proud and sen-
sitive Highland girl, fll of generous impulses that
craved for the practica! work of helping other people,
longing, with the desire of a caged bird, for the free
winds and Hght of heaven, the sight of hills and the
sound of seas; and he could not understand why
she should not conform to ihe usages of city life. He
was disappointed that she did not do so. The imagi-
native Sheila, who was to appear as a wonderful Sea-
princess in London drawing-rooms, had disappeared
now; and the real Sheila, who did not care to go with
him into that society which he loved or affected lo
love, he had not learned to know.
And had she been mistaken in her estimate of
Frank Lavender*s characterJ At the very moment of
her leaving her husband's house, if she had beea
asked the question, she would have tumed and proudly
answered, "No!" She had been disappointed w
1
A NEW DAV BREAKS. t05
grievously disappointed ihat her heart seemed to be
breaking over it; but the manner in which Frank
Lavender had fallen away from the proraise he had
given was due, not to himself, but to the inuence of
the society around hira. Of that she was quite assured.
He had shown himself careless, indifferent, inconsiderate
to the verge of ctuelcy; but he was not, she had con-
vinced hersslf, coosciously cruel, nor yet selfish, nor
radically bad-hearted in any way. In her opinion, at
least, he was courageously sincere, to the verge of
shocking people who mistook his frankness for impu-
dence. He was recklessly generous; he would have
given the coat off his back to a beggar, al the instiga-
tion of a suddeti impulse, provided he could have goC
into a cab before any of his frlends saw bim; he had
Taxe abiltties, and at times wildly ambitious dreams,
not of his own glorification, but of what he would do
to celebrate the beauty and the graces of the Princess
whom he fancied he had married. It may seem hard
of belief that this man, judging him by his actions at
thU time, could have had anything of thorough seif-
forgetfulness and manliness in his nature. But when
tbings were at their very worst when he appeared to
the World as a self-indujgent idler, careless of a noble
womaa's unbounded love when his indifference, or
wtnse, had actually driven from his house a young
wife who had especial Claims on his forbearance and
consideration there were two people who slUlbelieved
in Frank Lavender. They were Sheiia Mackenzie and
Edward Ingram; and a man's wife and his oldest
fricnd generally know something about his real nature,
tu besetting temptations, its weakness, its strength, and
tu possibilities.
Of course Ingram was speedily made aware of all
r
I06 A PRINCE55 OF THULE.
that had ba^^ened. Lavender went home at Ihe
appointed hour to luncheon, accorapanied by his Ihree
acqnaintances. He had met them accidentally in the
forenoon; and as Mrs. Lorraine was most particular in
her inquiries about Shea, he thought he could not
do better ihan ask her there and then, with her mothei
and Lord Arthur, to have luncheon at two. Whai
followed on his carrying the announceroent to Shea
we know. He ieft the house, taking it for granted
that there would be no Houble when he retumed.
Perhaps he reproached himself for having spoken
sharply; but Sheila was really vety thoughtless in such
matters. AI two o'clock everything would be righL
Sheila must see how it would be impossible to intro-
duce a young Highland serving-maid to two fastidiouff
ladies and the son of a great Conservative peer.
Lavender met his thtee friends once more
waiked up to the house with them, letting thei
indeed, with his own latch-key. Passing the dininff-
room, he saw that the table was laid there, This
well. Sheila had been reasonable.
Tliey went upstairs to the drawing-room, Sheila
was not there. Lavender rang the bell, and bade ihe
servant teil her mistress sbe was wanted.
"Mrs. Lavender has gone out, sir," said the servanti
"Oh, indeed," he said, taking the matter quile
coolly, "When)"
"A quarter of an hour ago, sir. Sbe went out wit
the the young lady who came this moming."
"Very well. Let me know when luncheon is ready-'
Lavender tumed to his guests, feeling a linle awS-
ward, but appearing to treat the matter in a light and
humorous way. He imagined that Sheila, resentii^
vhat he had said, bad reaolved to take Mairi awaji
A NEW DAY BREAKS. IO7
and find her lodgings elsewhere. Perhaps that might
be done in time to let Sheila come back to receive bis
guests.
Sheila did not appear, however, and luncheon was
announced.
"I suppose we may as well go down," said La-
vender, with a shrug of bis Shoulders. ^'It is impos-
sible to say when she may come back. She is such a
good-hearted creature that she would never tbink of
herseif or her own afifairs in looking after this girl from
Lewis."
They went down stairs, and took th^ir places at
the table.
"For my part," said Mrs. Lorraine, "I tbink it is
very unkind not to wait for poor Mrs. Lavender. She
may come in dreadfully tired and hungry."
"But that would not vex her so mucb as the
notion that you bad waited on her account," said
Sheila's busband, with a smile; and Mrs. Lorraine was
pleased to bear bim sometimes speak in a kindly way
of the Highland girl whom be bad married.
Lavender's guests were going somewbere after
luncheon, and be bad half promised to go with them,
Mrs. Lorraine stipulating that Sheila sbould be in-
duced to come also. But when luncheon was over, and
Sheila bad not appeared, be changed bis intention.
He would remain at bome. He-saw bis three friends
depart, and went into the study, and lit a cigar.
How odd the place seemed! Sheila bad left no
instructions about the removal of those barbaric de-
corations she bad placed in the Chamber; and here,
around bim, seemed to be the walls of the old-fashioned
lite Toom at Borvabost, with its big sbells, its peacocks'
feadien, its skins, and stufifed fish, and m^s:^t.^ ^1
r
Io8 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
crimson bell-healher. Was there Dot, too, an odour
of peat-smoke in the airl and then his eye caught
sight of the plate that still stood on the window-sl,
with the ashes of the buraed peat on it.
"The odd child she is!" he thought, with a sme,
"to go playing at grotto-making, and trying to fancy
she was up in Lewis agaln. I suppose ahe would like
to let her hair down again, and take off her shoes and
stockings, and go wading along the sand in search of
shell-fish."
And then, somehow, his fancies went back to the
old time when he had first seen and admired her
wild ways, her fearlesa occupations by sea and shore,
and the delight of active work that shone on her bright
face and in her beauliful eyes. How lithe and hand-
some her figure used to be, in that blue dress, when
she stood in the middle of the boat, her head bent
back, her arms upstretched and puUing at some rope
or other, and all the fine colour of exertioo in tiie
bloom of her cheeks! Then the ptide with which she
saw her little vessel cutting through the water"
she tightened her lips with a joyous determination as
the Sheets were hauled close and the gunwale of the
sinall boat heeled over so that it alraost touched the
hissing and gurgling foam how she laughed at
Duncan's anxiety as she rounded some rocky poinl,
and sent the boat spinning into the clear and smooth
waters of the bayl Perhaps, after all, it was too bad
to keep the poor child so long shut up in a city. She
was evidently longing for a breath of sea-air, and for
some brief dash of that brisk, fearless life on the sea-
coast that she used to love. It was a happy life, aft
all; and he had himself enjoyed it, when his haods
and face got biowned by the sun, when he grew
A NEW DAV EREAKS. IO9
wonder how any human being could wear black gar-
tnents and drink foreign wines, and smoke cigars at
eighteenpence apiece, so long as frieze coals, whisky,
and a briar-root pipe were procurable. How one slept
up in that remote island, after all the laughing, and
drinking, and singing of the evening were over! How
sharp was the monition of huBger when the keen sea-
air blew about your face on issuing out in the mom-
ing; and how fresh, and cool, and sweet was that
early breeze, witJi the scent of Sheila's flowers in it!
Then the long, brighl day at the river-side, with the
black pools rippling in the wind, and in the silence
the rapid whistle of the silken line through the air,
and now and again the "blob" of a big salmon rising
to a fly farther down the pool, Where was there any
rest like the rest of the mid-day luncheon, when Dun-
can had put ihe big fish, wrapped in rushes, under the
shadow of the nearest rock, when you sat down on
the wann heather, and lit your pipe, and began to
JEUjuiTe where you had been bitten on hands and neck
by the ferocious "clegs" while you were too busy in
piaying a fifteen pounder to care. Then, perhaps, as
you were sitting there in the warm sunlight, with all
the fresh scents of the moorland around, you would
hear a tight footslep on the sott moss; and, tuming
round, here was Sheila herseif, with a brighl look in
her pretty eyes, and a half blush on her cheek, and a
friendly inquiry as to the way the fish had been be-
haviijg. Theo ihe beautiful, strnge, cool evenings
Od the shores of Loch Roag, with the wild, clear Ught
Stiil shining in the nonhern heavens, and the sound
of the waves getting to be lonely and distant; or, still
bler, out in Sheila's boat, with the great yellow moon
Up over Siiainabhal and Mealasabhal iiAo ^
J
tlO A PKINCESS OF TUlfLE.
lambent vaiilt of violet sky; a pathway of quiveting
gold lying across the loch; a mild radiance glhtenag
here and there on Ihe spars of the small vessel, xai,
out there, the great Atlantic lying still and distant as
in a dream. As he sat in this little room and thought
of all these things, he grew to think he had Dot acied
quite fairly to Sheila. She was so fond of that beauti-
ful Island life; and she had not even visiled the Lewis
since her mairiage. She should go now. He would
abandoD that trip to the Tyrol; and as soon as ai-
rangements could be made, Ihey would together Start
for the north, and some day soon find theraselves
going up the steep shore to Sheila's home, with the
old King of Botva Standing in the porch of the hous^
and endeavouring to conceal his nervousness by swear-
ing at Duncan's method of carrying the luggage.
Had nol Sheila's stratagem succeededl That prettjr
trick of hers, in decorating the room so as to resemble
the house at Borvabost, had done all that she could
have desired. But where was shel
Lavender rose hastily, and looked at his watch.
Then he rang the bell, and a servant appeared.
"Did not Mrs. Lavender say when she would
retumi" he asked,
"No, sir."
"You don't know where she wenH"
"No, sir. The young lady's luggage was put into
the cab, and they drove away without leaving any
message."
He scarcely dared confess to himself what fears
began to assail hira. He went upstairs to Sheila's
room, and there everything appeared to be in. its usual
place, even to the smallest articles on the dressing-
table. They were all there, except one. That was
J^
A NEW DAV BRGAKS. III
locket, too laige and dumsy to be worn, which some-
one had given her years before she left Lewis, and in
which her father's portrait had been somewhat rudely
set. Just after their roarriage, Lavender had laken
out this Portrait, touched it up a bit into something
of a better likeness, and put it back; and then she
had persuaded him to have a photograph of himself
coloured and placed on the opposite side. Thia
locket, open and showing both portraits, she had fixed
on to 3 small stand, and, in ordinary circumstances, it
always stood on one side of her dressin g-table. The
stand was there; the locket was gone.
He went down stairs again. The afternoon wag
diawing on, A servant carae to ask him at what
hour he wished to dine; he bade her wait tili her
mistress came horae, and consull her. Then he went ouL
It was a beautiful, qinel afternoon, with a warm
light from the west shining over the now yellowing
tiees of the Squares and gardens. He waUsed down
towards Notting Hill Gate Station, endeavouring to
convince himself that he was not perturbed, and yet
looking somewhat anxiously at the cabs that passed.
People were now coming out from their business in
the city, by train, and omnibus, and hansom; and they
seemed to be hurrying home in very good spirits, as
if ihcy were sure of the welcome awaiting them there.
Now and again you would see a meeting somc
dnure young person, who had been furtively watch-
ing the railway-station, suddenly showing a brightness
JQ her face, as she went fom'ard to shake hands with
tonte new arriva!, and then tripping briskly away with
tum, her hand on his arm. There were raen carrying
honie fish in small bags, or baskets of fruit presents
to tbeir wives, doubtless, from town, Occasionally an
r
I !2 A PRISCESS OF THDLK,
open cairiage would go by, containmg one grave and
elderly gentleman and a group of small girls probably
his daughtere, who had gonc into the city lo accom-
pany their papa homeward. Why did these scenes
and incidents, cheerful in themselves, seem to him to
be somehow saddening, as he walked vaguely on)
He knew, at least, that there was little use in returnicg
home. There was no one in ihat silent house in the
Square. The rooms would be dark in the IwiUght.
Probably dinner would be laid, wiih no one to sit
down at the table. He wished Sheila had left word
where she was going.
Then he bethought him of the way in which they
had parted; and of the sense of fear that had Struck
him, the moment he left the house, and after all he
had been too harsh with the child. Now, at least, he
was Teady to apologize to her. If only he could see
Sheila Coming along in one of those hansoms if he
could see, at any distance, the figure he knew so well
Walking towards him on the pavement^ would he not
instantly confess to her that he had been wrong, even
grievously wrong, and beg her to forgive himT She
should have it all her own way about going up 10
Lewis. He would cast aside this Society-life he had
been living, and, to please her, would go in for any
sort of work or amusement of which she approved
He was so anxious, indeed, to put these virtuousre-
solutions into force, that he suddenly tumed aad
walked rapidly back to the house, with the wild hupe
that Sheila might have already come back,
The Windows were dark the curtains were yei
drawn; and by this time the evening had come on,
and the lamps in the Square had been lit He let
himself into the house by bis latch-kej'-. He slked
A NEW DAY BREAKS. ZI3
mto all the rooms, and up into Shefla's room; every-
thing remained as he had left it. The white cloth
glimmered in the dusk of the dining-room, and the
light of the lamp outside in the street touched here
and there the angles of the crystal and showed the
pale colours of the glasses. The dock on the mantle-
piece ticked in the silence. If Sheila had been lying
dead in that small room up-stairs, the house could not
have appeared more silent and solemn.
He could not bear this horrible solitude. He
called one of the servants, and left a message for
Sheila, if she came in in the interval, that he would
be back at ten o'clock; then he went out, got into a
hansom, and drove down to his club in St James's
Street.
Most of the men were dining; the other rooms
were almost deserted. He did not care to dine just
then. He went into the library; it was occupied by
an old gentleman who was fast asleep in an easy-
chair. He went into the billiard-rooms, in the vague
hope that some exciting game might be going on;
there was not a soul in the place, the gases were
down, and an odour of stale smoke pervaded the dis-
mal Chambers. Should he go to the theatre? His
sitting there would be a mockery, while this vague
and terrible fear was present to his haart Or go
down to see Ingram, as had been his wont in previous
hours of trouble? He dared not go near Ingram
without some more definite news about Sheila. In
the end, he went out into the open air, as if he were
in danger of being stifled; and, Walking indeterminately
OD, found himself once more at his own house.
The place was still quite dark; he knew before
entering iat Sheila had not returned, and he did not
A PriMCtxi qf Thule, II. 8
114 A nuxcEss or ihui^
seem to be sar pri se d. It was bow Itjng after their
ordinary dinDer-hour. When he wenl mto tfae house
he bade the savaass ligbt the gas and bring up diimei;
he would himself sit down at this solitar)- table, if only
Tot the purpose of finding occnpatioD and passing this
terrible time of suspense.
It never occuired lo him, as it migbt have oc-
ctured to him at one time, diat Shcila had made sotrte
blunder somewhere and been unavoidably detained.
He did not think of any possible repetion of her
adventnres io Richmond Park. He was too cooscioos
of the probable reason of Sheila's remajning away
from her own home; and yet, from minute to minute,
he fought with that consciousness, and sought to prove
to himself that, after all, she would soon be heaid
driviog up to the door. He ate bis dinner in silence;
and then drew a chair up to the fire and lit a cigac
For the first time in bis Ufe he was driven to go
over the events that had occurred since bis raairiage,
and to ask himself how it had all come about that
Sheila and he were not as they once had been. He
recalled the early days of Iheir friendship at Borva;
the beautifui period of their courtship; the appearance
of the young wife in London; and the close relegaoa
of Sheila to the doniestic affairs of the house, while
he had chosen for himself other companions, olher
interests, other aims. There was no attempt at self-
justlfication in those communings, but an efTort, sincen
enough in its way, to understand how all this hi
happened. He sat and dreamed there, before rhe
warmth of the fire, with ihe slow and monotonous
ticking of the dock unconsciously acting on bis brain.
In time the silence, the warmth, the monotonous soundi
pmduced theii natural efiects, and he feil fast aslecp-
A NEW DAY BREAKS. II5
He awoke with a start The small silvertoned bell
on the mantelpiece had Struck the hour of twelve. He
looked around, and knew that the evil had come upon
him: for Sheila had not retumed, and all bis most
dreadful fears of that evening were confirmed. Sheila
had gone away and left him whither had she gone?
Now there was no more indecision in his actions.
He got his hat, plunged into the cold night air, and
Unding a hansom, bade the man drive as hard as he
could go down to Sloane Street There was a light
in Ingram's Windows, which were on the ground-floor;
he tapped with his stick on one of the panes an old
Signal that had been in constant use when he and
Ingram were close companions and friends. Ingram
came to the door and opened it; the light of a lamp
glared in on his face.
"Hillo, Lavender!" he said, in a tone of surprise.
The other could not speak; but he went into the
house, and Ingram, shutting the door and following
him, found that the man's face was deadly pale.
"Sheila ^" he said, and stopped,
"Well, what about her?" said Ingram, keeping
quite calm, but with wild fancies about some terrible
accident almost stopping the pulsation of his heart
"Sheila has gone away."
Ingram did not seem to understand.
"Sheila has gone away, Ingram," said Lavender,
in an excited way. "You don't know anything about
it? You don't know where she has gonel What am
I to do, Ingram how am I to find her? Good God,
don't you understand what I teil you? And now it is
past midnight, and my poor girl may be wandering
about the streets."
8*
Il6 A PBINCESS 0 THULE.
He was Walking up and down the room, paying
almost no attention, in bis excitement, to the small
sallow-faced man, who stood quite quiet, a trifle afra
perhaps, but with his heart fll of a blaze of anger.
"She has gone away from your house," he said,
slowly. "What made her do thati"
"I did," Said Lavender, in a huiried way. "I have
acted like a brte to her^that is tnie enough. Von
needn't say anything to me, Ingram; I feel myself far
more guilty than anything you could say you may
heap reproaclies on me afterwards but teil me,
Ingram, what am I to do. You know what a proud
spirit she has who can teil what she might do! She
wouldo't go home she would be too proud she may
have gone and drowned herseif "
"If you don't control yourself, and teil me what
has happened, how am I to help youl" said Ingram,
stiffly; and yet disposed somehow^perhaps for the
sake of Sheila, perhaps because he saw that the young
man's self-embarrassment and distress were genuine
enough not to be too rough with him.
"Well, you know Mairi," said Lavender, still Walk-
ing up and down the room in an excited way; "Sheils
had got up the girl here without telling me sonw
friends of mine were Coming home to luocJieon^we
had sorae disagreement about Mairi being present
and then Sheila said something about not remaining
in the house if Mairi did not something of that sort.
I don't know what it was, but I know it was all my
fault; and if she has been driven from the house 1 did
it^that is true enough. And where do you think she
has gone, Ingraml If I could only see her for three
minutes, I would explain everything; I would tel) htJ
how sony I am for everything that has happened, aod
A NEW DAY BREAKS. II7
she would see, when she went back, how everything
would be right again. I had no idea she would go
away. It was mere peevishness that made me object
to Mairi meeting those people; and I had no idea that
Sheila would take it so much to heart. Now teil me
what you think should be done, Ingram all I want is
to see her just for three minutes to teil her it was all
a mistake, and that she will never have to fear any-
thing like that again."
Ingram heard him out, and said, with some pre-
cision
"Do you mean to say that you fancy all this trouble
IS to be got over that way? Do you know so little of
Sheila, after the time you have been married to her,
as to imagine that she has taken this step out of some
momentary caprice, and that a few words of apology
and promise will cause her to rescind itl You must
be crazed, Lavender; or eise you are actually as
ignorant of the nature of that girl as you were up in
the Highlands."
The young man seemed to calm down his excite-
ment and impatience, but it was because of a new fear
that had Struck him, and that was visible in his face.
"Do you think she will never come back, Ingram 1"
he Said, looking aghast.
"I don't know. She may not At all events, you
may be quite sure that, once having resolved to leave
your house, she is not to be pacified and cajoled by
a few phrases and a promise of repentance on your
part That is quite sure. And what is quite as sure
is this, that if you knew just now where she was, the
most foolish thing you could do would be to go and
see her "
"But I must go and see her 1 mM&X. ^t.\t wiN-^
1 1 S A PRIKCESS OF THULE.
Ingiam," he said, passionately. "1 don'l care what
becomes of me. If she won't go back home, so much
the worse for me; but I mmt find her out, and know
that she is safe! Thmk of it, Ingram perhaps she is
Walking about the streets somewhere at ihis tnoment
and you know her proud spirit if she were ti
near the river "
"She won't go near the river," said Ingram, qutetly.
"And she won't be Walking about the streets. She a
either in the Scotch ma-train, going up lo Glasgow,
or eise she has got aome lodgings somewhere, along
with Main. Has she any moneyr'
"No," said Lavender. And then he thought for a
minute. "There was some money her father gave hi
in case she might want it at a pinch she may have
that, I hope she has that. I was to have given her
money to-morrow morning. But hadn't I better go to
the police-stations, and see, just by way of precaution,
that she has not been heard of! I may as well do
that as nothing. I could not go home to that empty
house. I could not sleep."
"Sheila is a sensible girl; she is safe enough," said
Ingram. "And if you don't care about going home,
you may as well remain here. I can give you a room
up-stairs when you want iL In the meantime, if you
will pull a chair to the table, and calm yourself, and
take it for granted that you will soon be assured of
Sheila's safety, I will teil you what I think you should
do, Here is a cigar to keep you occupied; Ihcre is
Whisky and cold water back there, if you like; you
will do no good by punishing yourself in small mat-
ters; for your trouble is likely to be serious enough, 1
can teil you, before you get Sheila back, if evcr yoo
get her back. Take the chair with the cushion,"
A NEW DAY BREARS. II9
It was So like the old days when these two used
to be companions! Many and many a time had the
younger man come down to these lodgings, with all
his troublesy and wild Impulses, and pangs of contrition
ready to be revealed; and then Ingram, concealing the
liking he had for the lad's generous waywardness, his
brilliant and facile clevemess, and his dashes of honest
self-depreciation, would gravely lecture him, and put
him right, and send him oflf comforted. Frank Lavender
had changed much since then. The handsome boy
had grown into a man of the world; there was less
self-revelation in his manner, and he was less sensitive
to the opinions and criticisms of his old friend; but
Ingram, who was not prone to idealism of any sort,
had never ceased to believe that this change was but
superficial, and that, in different circumstances and
with different aims, Lavender might still fulfil the best
promise of his youth.
"You have been a good friend to me, Ingram," he
said, with a hot blush, '^and I have treated you as
badly as I have treated By Jove, what a chance I
had at one time!"
He was looking back on all the fair pictures his
imagination had drawn while yet Sheila and he were
wandering about that island in the northem seas.
"You had," said Ingram, decisively. "At one time
I thought you the most fortunate man in the world.
There was nothing left for you to desire, as f ar as I
could see. You were young, and strong, with plenty
of good spirits and sufficient ability to eam yourself
an honourable living, and you had won the love of
the most beautiful and best-hearted woman I have
known. You never seemed to me to know what that
meant Men marry women there \s no L\i^ca&X:^ ^o^
1 20 A PMNCESS OF TBinX.
tbat; and fou can geneially get an amisble sort of'
person to become your wife, aiid have a sort of affec-
lion for you, and so on. But how many have bestoved
on them the pure and exalted passion of a young andl
innocent girl, who is ready to worship with all the
fervour of a warmly imaginative and emotional natui
the man she has chosen to love) And suppose he k-
young, loo, and capable of understanding all the tendet
sentiments of a high-spirited, sensitive, and loyal wo-
man, and suppose that he fancies himself as much in
love with her as she wilh himl These conditions aK
not oflen falfilled, I can teil you. It is a happy flukft
when they are. Many a day ago I told you that yoil
should consider yourself more fortunate than if yoo
had been made an Emperor; and, indeed, it seemedj
to me that you had evcrything in the shape of worid^
happiness easily within your reach. How you camt
to kick away the ball from your feet well God onlf
knows. The thing is inconceivable to me. You are
sttting here as you used to sit two or three years ago;
and in the interval you have had every chance in lifej
and now if you are not the niost wretched man in
London, you ought al least to be the most ashamed
and repentant."
Lavender's head was bnried in his hands; he did
not speak,
"And it is not only your own happiness you have
destroyed. When you saw that gir! first, she was as
light-hearted and contented with her lot as anyhuntan
being could be. From one week's end to the oth
not the slightest care disturbed her mind. And iheOi
when she entrusted her whole fe to you^ when shfl
Btaked her faith in human nature on you, and gaW|
you all the treasures of hope and reverence, and lorff
A NEW DAY BREAKS. 121
that lay in her pure and innocent soul^my God!
what have yon done with these) It is not that you
have shamed and insulted her as a wife, and driven
her out of her home^there are other homes than
yours where she would be welcome a thousand times
over but you have destroyed her belief in everyihing
ehe had taught herseif to trust, you have outraged tbe
tenderest sentiments of her heart, you have killed her
faith as well as ruined her life. I talk plainly. I
cannot do otherwise. If I help you now, don't imagine
1 condone what you have done I would cut off my
itight band firsL For Sheila's sake, I will try to help you."
He stopped just then, however, and ckecked the
iindignation that had gol the better of bis ordinarily
strained manner and curt speech. Tbe man before
a was crying bitterly, bis face hidden in his hands.
"Look here, Lavender," he said, presentty. "I don't
^ant to be hard on you. I teil you plainly what I
ttiiok of yonr cooduct, so thal no delusions may exist
etwcen us. And I will say this for you, tbat the only
(cuse you have- "
"There ia no excuse," said the other, sadly enough.
l have no excuse, and I know it."
"The only thing, tben, you can say in mitigation
f what you have done is that you never seem to have
mderstood the girl whom you married. You started
Irith giving her a fancy cbaracter when first you went
3 the Lewis; and once you had got Ihe bit in your
toeth, there was no stopping you. If you seek now
y get Sheila back lo you, the best thing you can do,
! presume, would be to try to see her as she is, to
in her regard that way, to abandon that operatic
miness, and leani to know her as a thoroiighly good
Oman, who has her own ways and notioas about
f w
tmd(
122 A PRCJCESS OF THULE.
things, aod who has a very definite character under-
lying that extreme genlleness which she fancies to be
one of her duties. The child did her dead best to
accommodate herseif to your idea of her, and failed.
When she would ralher have been Uving a brisk and
active life in the country, or by the sea-side running
wild about a hill-side, or reading strnge stories in the
evening, or nursing some fisherman's child that had
got ill ^you had her dragged into a sort of society
witb which she had no sympathy whatever. And the
odd thing to me is that you yourself seemed to bc
making an eflbrt that wayl You did not always devote
yourself to fashionable Hfe. What becatne of all your
old ambitioos you used to talk about in the very chaii
you are now sitting in)"
"Is there any hope of my getting Sheila backt"
he said, looking up at last, There was a vague and
bewildered look in his eyes. He seemed incapable of
thinking of anything but that. i
"1 don't know," said Ingram. "But one thing is
certain you will never gel her back to repeat the ei-
periment that has just ended in this desperate way."
"I should not ask that," he said, hurriedly. "ij
should not ask [hat at all. If I could but see her fff j
a moment, I would ask her to teil me everylhing slic j
wanted everything she detnanded as conditions j
and I would obey them all. I will promise to do eveij-
thing that she wishes,"
"If you saw her, you could give her nothing W
promises," said Ingram, quietly. "Now, what ifjop I
were to try to do what you know she wishes, and tbW I
go to her)" J
" Vou mean ," said Lavender, glancing up ltM
another startled look on his face. "You don't am!
A NEW DAY BREAKS. I23
diat I am to remain away from her a long time go
iDto banishment, as it were and then, some day,
come back Co Sheila, and beg her to forgeC all that
happened long before."
n something very lUce that," said Ingram,
with composure. "I don't know that it would be suc-
cessful. I have no means of ascertaining what Sheila
would ihink of such a project whether she would
iink that she could ever live with you again."
Lavender seemed fairly stunned by the possibili^
of Sheila's resolving never to see him again; and began
b reca what Ingram had many a time said about the
Btrength of purpose she could show when occasion
needed.
"If her faith in you ia wbolly destroyed, your case
hopeless. A woman may cling to her belief in a
in, through good report and evil report; but if she
cmce loses it, she never recovers it But there is this
jbope for you. I know very well that Sheila had a
luch more accurate nolion of you than ever you had
^ heij and 1 happen to know, also, that at the very
time when you were most deeply distressing her, here
London, she held the finn conviction that your
tonduct towards her your habits, your very seif
ronld alter if you could only be persuaded to get out
if the life you have been leading, That was true, at
least, up to the time of your leaving Brighton. She
believed in you then. She believed that if you were
cut Society altogether, and go and live a useful
und hard-working life somewhere, you would soon
|ecoaie once more the man she feil in love with up
Lewis. Perhaps she was mistaken I don't say any-
ing about it myself."
"The terribly cool way in which Ingram lalked^
r
124 A PRINCESS OF TUUtf.
separating, defining, exhibiting, so that he and his
companion shotild get as near as possible to what he
believed to be ihe truth of the Situation was oddly
in contrast with the blind and passionate yeaming of
the other for some glimpse of hope. His whole nature
seemed to go out in a cry 10 Sheila, that she woiild
come back and give him a chance of atoning for th
past. At length he rose. He looked strangely hag-
gard, and his eyes scarcely seemed to see the Ihlngs
around him.
"I must go home," he said.
Ingram saw that he merely wanted to get ontside
and walk about in order to find some relief from this
anxiety and unrest, and said
"Vou ought, I thinlc, to stop here and go to bed
Eilt if you would rather go home, I will walk up wiA
you, if yoii Hke."
When the two men went out, the night-air smell
sweet and moist, for rain had fallen, and the city trees
were still dripping with the wet and rustling in ihe
wind. The weather had changed suddenly, and no*,
in the deep blue overhead, they knew the clouds wert
passing swiftly by. Was it the Coming lighl of the
morning that seemed to gtve depth and richness 10
that dark blue vault, whe the pavements of the streets
and the houses grew vaguely distinct and greyl
Suddenly in turning the comer into Piccadtlly, tbej
saw the moon appear in a rifl of those passing clouds;
but it was not the moonllght that shed this pale and
wan greyness down the lonely streets, It is just at
this moment, when the dawn of the new day begins
to teil, that a great city seems at its deadest; and in
I the profound silence and amid the strnge transfonna-
s of the cold and giowing Hght, a man is thrown
A NEW DAY BREAKS. I25
in upon himself, and holds communion with himself,
as though he and his own thoughts were all that was
left in the world Not a word passed between the
two men; and Lavender, keenly sensitive to all such
impressions, and now and again shivering slightly,
either from cold or nervous excitement, walked blindly
along the deserted streets, seeing far other things than
the tall houses, and the drooping trees, and the grow-
ing light of the sky.
It seemed to him at this moment that he was look-
ing at Sheila's funeral. There was a great stillness
in that small house at Borvabost There was a boat
Sheila's own boat down at the shore there; and
there were two or three figures in black in it The
day was grey and rainy; the sea washed along the
melancholy shores; the far hills were hidden in mist
And now he saw some people come out of the house
into the rain, and the bronzed and bearded men had
oars with them, and on the crossed oars there was a
coffin placed. They went down the hill-side. They
put the coffin in the stem of the boat; and in absolute
silence except for the wailing of the women they
pulled away down the dreary Loch Roag tili they came
to the Island where the burial-ground is. They carried
the coffin up to that small enclosure, with its rank
grass growing green, and the rain falling on the rde
stones and memorials. How often had he leaned on
that low stone wall, and read the strnge inscriptions,
in various tongues, over the graves of mariners from
distant countries who had met with their death on this
rocky coast Had not Sheila herseif pointed out to
him, with a sad air, how many of these memorials
bore the words "who was drowned;" and that, too,
was the brden of the rudely-spelt leg^nds beginning
136 A PRINCESS OT THULS.
with "Hier niht in Gott," or"Her under hver stovit,"
and sometimes ending with thepathetic "Wunderschn
ist unsre Hofihung." The fishemien brought the coffm
to the newly-made grave; the women standing back a
bit, old Scarlett MacDonald stroking Mairi's hair, and
bidding the girl control her frantic grief, though the
old woman herseif could haidly speak for her tears
and her laraentations. He could read the words
"Sheila Mackenzie" on the small silver plate: she had
been taken away from all association with hiin and
his name. And who was Ihis old man with the white
hair and the white beard, whose hands were tighlly
clenched, and his lips firm, and a look as of death in
the sunken and wild eyesi Mackenzie was grey a year
before
"Ingram," he said, suddenly, and his voice staitied
his companion, "do you think it is possible to nuke
Sheila happy againl"
"How can I telll" said Ingram.
"You used to know everything she could wish
everything she was thinking about. If you find her
out now, will you get to knowl Will you see what I
can do not by asking her to come back, not by
trying to get back ray own happiness but anything,
it does not matter what it is, I can do for hert If she
would rather not see me again, I will stay away. Will
you ask her, Ingram 1"
" We have got to find her first," said his companioa
"A young girl like that," said Lavender, taking na
heed of the objection, "surely she cannot always be
lliilmiipy. She is so young and beautiful, and lakes
0 iruirli intcrest in many ihings surely she may hae
II liflpiiy lifp."
"Shp itjtln havc had."
A NEW DAY HBEAKS. 127
"I don't mean with me," said Lavender, with liia
haggard face iooking still more haggard in the in-
creasing light "I mean anything ihat can be done
any way of life that will malte her comfortable and
contented again anything that I can do for that, will
you try to find it out, Ingrami"
"Oh yes, I will," said the other, who had been
thinking with much foreboding of all these possibilities
ever since they left Sloane Street, his only gleam of
hope being a consciousness that ihis lime at least there
could be no doubt of Frank Lavender's absolute sin-
cerity, of his remorse, and his almost morbid craving lo
make reparation if that were still possible,
They reached the house at last. There was a dim
orange-coloured light shining in the passage. La-
vender went on, and threw open the small room which
Sheila had adomed, asking Ingram to follow him,
How wild and strnge this chamber looked, with the
wan giare of the dawn shining in on its barbaric
decorations from the sea-coast on the shells, and
skins, and feathers that Sheila had placed around!
That white light of the morning was now shining
everywhere into the silent and desolate house. La-
vender found Ingram a bed-room; and then he tumed
away, not knowing what to do. He looked into
Sheila's room: there were dresses, bits of finery, and
what not, that he knew so well; but there was no
lighi breathing audible in the silent and empty Cham-
ber. He shut the door as reverenliy as though he
were shutting it on the dead; and went down-stairs
and threw himself almost fainting with despair and
(atigue OD a sofa, while the world outside awoke lo a
tttw day, with all its countless and joyous activities
nid duties.
A PRINCESS OF THULE.
CHAPTER VL
There was no letter from Sheila in the motning;
and Lavender, so soon as the post had come and
gone, went up to Ingram's room and woke him.
"I am sorry lo disturb you, Ingram," he said,
I am going to Lewis. I shall catch the train to Glas-
gow at ten,"
"And what do you want to get to Lewis fori"
said Ingram, starting up. "Do you think Sheila would
go straight back to her own people with a!l this h
h'ation upon her? And supposing she is not there,
how do you propose to meet old Mackenzie)"
"I am not afraid of meeting any man," said Li-
vender; "I want to know where Sheila is. And if I
see Mackenzie, I can only teil him frankly everything
that has happened. He is not likely to say anything of
me half as bad as what I think of myself."
"Now listen," said Ingram, sitting up in bed,
his brown beard and greyish hair in a considerabij
diahevelled condition. "Sheila may have gone home,
but it isn't likely. If she has not, your taking the
Story up there, and spreading it abroad, would prepare
a great deal of pain for her when she might go badt
at some futiire time. But suppose you want to make
sure that she has not gone to her father's house. She
could not have got down to Glasgow sooaer than ihii
morning, by last night's train, you know. It is V
morrow moming, not ihis morning, that the Stomow/
steamer Starts; and she would be certain to go direct
lo it at the Glasgow Broomielaw, and go round the
Mull of Cantyre instead of catching it up at Obaiv
because she knows the people in the boatj and she
A SURPRJSE. 129
and Mairi would be among friends. If you really
want to know whether slie lias gone north, perbaps
you could do no better tban nin down to Glasgow to-
day, and have a look at the boat that staris to-morrow
moming. I would go witb you myself, but I can't
escape the office to-day."
Lavender agreed to do this; and was about to go.
But before he bade his friend good-bye, he lingered
for 3. second or two in a hesitating way, and then he
Said
"Ingram, you were speaking the other night of
your going up to Borva. If you should go "
"Of course I shan't go," said the other, promptly.
"How could I face Mackenzie when he began to ask
me about Sheilal No, J cannot go to Borva while this
affair remaius in its present condition; and, indeed,
Lavender, I mean to stop in London tili 1 see you out
of your irouble somehow."
"You are heaping coals of fire on my head."
"Oh, don't look at it that way, If I can be of any
help to you, I shall expect, this time, to have a return
for iL"
"What do you meanl"
"I will teil you when we get to know something
of Sheila's intentions,"
And so Frank Lavender found himself once more,
as in the old times, in the Euston Station, wilh the
Scotch mail ready to Start, and all manner of folks
bustling about wilh that unnecessary activity which
betokens the exciteraent of a holiday, What a strnge
holiday was hJsI He got into a smoking-carriage in
Order to be alonej and he looked out on the people
wbo were bidding their friends good-bye. Some of
Ihem were not very prctty; many of them were ordi-
A /VnK. ./ TI1..U. II 5
130 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
naiy, insignificani, commonplace-iooking folks; but it
was dear that ihey had those about Ihem who loved
them and thought much of them. There was onc
man whom, in other circumstances, Lavender woold
have dismissed with contempt as an excellent specimen
of the unmitigated cad. He wore a white waistcoat,
purple gloves, and a green sailor's knot with a diamond
in it; and there was a cheery, vacuous, smiling t-
pression on bis round face as he industiiously smoked
a cheroot and raade sniall jokes to the friends who
had come to see bim off. One of them was a young
woman, not very good-looking, perhaps, who did nol
join in the general hilarity: and it occurred to Lavender
that the jovial man with the cheroot was perhaps
Cracking bis little jokes to keep up her spirits, At aD
events be calied her "my good lass" from time to
tinie, and patled her on the Shoulder, and was very
kind to her. And wben the guard came up, and bade
everybody get in, the man kissed the girl, and shook
hands witb ber, and bade her good-bye; and theo
she, moved by some sudden impulse, caught bis face
in both her bands and kissed hira once on each cheet.
It was a ridiculous scene. People who wear greea
ties with diamond pins care nothing for decorum.
And yet Lavender, when he averted bis eyes from thij
parting, could not help recalling what Ingram had
been saying the night before, and wondered whether
this outrageous person, with his abominable decoraO'oni
and his genial grin, niight not be more fortunate Ihan
many a great statesman, or warrior, or monarch.
He tumed round to find the cad beside him; and
presently the man, with an abounding good natut^
began to converse with him, and explained iat it wM
'igh 'oliday with him, for that be had got a
a pass to 1
A SURPRISS. 131
travel first-class as far as Carlisle. He hoped they
would have a joUy time of it together. He explained
the object of his joumey in the Trankest possible
fashion; made a kindly little joke upon the hardship
of parting with one's sweetheart; said that a faint
heart never won fair lady, and that it was no good
oying over spilt milk. She would be aU right, and
precious glad to see him back in three weeks' time,
and he meant to bring her a present that would be
good for sore eyes.
^Perhaps you're a married man, sir, and got past
all them gamesl" said the cad, cheerily.
"Yes, I am married," said Lavender, coldly.
"And you're going further than Carlisle, you say,
sirl ril be swom the good lady is up somewhere in
that direction, and she won't be disappointed when
she sees you oh no! Scotch, sirl"
"I am not Scotch," said Lavender, curtly.
'And shel"
Should he have to throw the man out of the
windowl
Yes."
"The Scotch are a strnge race ^very," said the
genial person, producing a brandy flask. "They drink
a trifle, don't they; and yet they keep their wits about
them if you've dealings with them. A very strnge
race of people in my opinion very. Know the story
of the master who fancied his man was drunk? 'Donald,
you're trunk,' says he. *It's a tam lee,' says Donald.
'Donald, ye ken ye're trunk!' says the master. 'Ah
ken ah wish to Kott ah wass!' says Donald. Good
story, ain't it, sirl"
Lavender had heard the remarkable old joke a
hnndred times; but just at this moment there was
*
13? A PRINCESS OF TIIULE.
something odd in tliis vulgr person siiddenly imitat-
ing, and imitating very well, the Higliland accent.
Had he been away up in the north: or had he merely
heard the storj- related by one who had beenl La-
vender dared not ask, however, for fear of prolonging
a conversation in which he had na wish to join.
Indeed, to get rid of tlie man, he shoved a whole
bndle of the moming papers into his hands.
"What's your opinion of politics at present, sirl"
observed his friend, in an off-hand way.
"I haven't any," said Lavender, compelled to tte
back one of the newspapers, and open it.
"I think, myself, they're in a bad State. Thafs
rny opinion. There ain't a man among 'em who knows
how to keep down those people. That's my opinion,
sir. What do you thinkl"
"Oh, I think so, too," said Lavender, "YouTl
find a good article in that paper oo University Teste."
The cheery person looked rather blank.
"I would iike to hear your opinion about 'em,
sir," he said. "It ain't much good reading only one
side of the question; but when you can talk about it
and discuss it, now "
"I am sony I can't oblige you," said Lavender,
goaded into making some desperate effort to release
himself. "I am suifering from relaxed throat at pre-
sent. My doctor has warned me against talking
much."
"I beg your pardon, sir. You don't seem very
well perhaps the throat comes with a little feverisli-
ness, you see a cold, in facL Now, if I was you,
I'd try tannin lozenges for the throat They're
common good for the throat; and a little quinine for
the general system that would put you as right
A SURFKISE. 133
liver. I tried it myself when I was down in 'Ampsliire
last year. And you wouldn't find a drop of this
brandy a bad ttiing either, if you doo't mind rowig
in the same boal as myself."
Lavender decned the proffered flask, and sub-
sided behind a newspaper. His fellow-traveller lit
anolher cheroot, took up Bradshaw, and settled hiraself
in a cotner.
Had Shcila come up this very Line some dozen
hours beforel Lavender asked himself, as he looked
out OD the hls, and Valleys, and woods of Bucking-
hamshire. Had the throbbing of the engine and the
rattle of tbe wheels kept the piteous eyes awake all
through the dark night, untit the pale dawn showed
the gicl a wild vision of northern hls and raoors,
telling her she was getting near to her own coimtryi
Not thus had Sbeila proposed to heisclf to return
liorae on the first holiday-time that should occur to
them both. He began to think of his present journey
as it might have been in other circumstances. Would
she have remembered any of those pretty villages
which she saw one early moming, long ago, when
they were bathed in sunshine, and scarcely awake to
ibe new dayl Would she be impatient at the delays
at the stations, and anxious to hurry on to Westmore-
land and Dumfries, to Glasgow, and Oban, and Skye,
and theo from Stornoway across the Island to the
little inn atGarra-na-hina) Here, as he looked out of
the window, the first indication of the wilder counliy
became visible in the distant Berkshire hills. Close
at band the country lay green and bright under a
brilliant sun; but over there in the east, some heavy
douds darkened Ihe landscape, and the far hls seemed
to be pUced amid a gloomy Stretch of moorland. Wovi.\d
134 A PRIMCESS OF THDLK.
not Sheila have been thrled by this glimpse of the
Coming northl She would have fancied that greater
mouatains lay fai behind these rounded slopes, hidden
in mist She would have imagined that no huntan
habitadons were oear those rising plains of sombre
hue, where the red-deer and the fox ought to dwell.
And in her delight at getting away from the fancied
brightness of the south, would she not have been ex-
ceptionally grateful and affectionate towards himself
and striven to please him with her tender wayst
It was not a cheerful joumey^tliis loneiy irip 10
the North. Lavender got to Glasgow that night; and
next moming he went down, long before any pas-
sengers could have ihought of arriving, to the Clont'
man. He did not go near the big steamer, for he
was known to the captain and the Steward; but he
hung about the quays, watching each person wbo
went on board. Sheila certainly was not among the
passengers by the Clansman.
But she might have gone to Greenock, and waited
for ihe steamer ihere. Accordingly, after the Clansman
had siarted on her vojage, he went inio a neigh-
boiiring hotel and had some breakfast, after which he
crossed the bridge to the Station, and took rail for
Greenock, where he arrived aome time before ie
Cliinsma made her appearance. He went down to the
(liiuy. It was yet early moming, and a cool fresh
breche was blowing in across the broad waters of the
l*'irlh, wlicrc the sunlight was shining on the white
Balls of tho yachts and on the dipping and screaniiag
OS-^ullx. Kar away beyond the pale blue mountains
(ijipdsite lay tbc wonderfui net-work of sea-loch and
isknd iKrouh which one had to pass to get to tii
l)iaUint LowIh. How gladly, at this momen^ vould he
A SURPRISE. 135
have stepped on board the steamer, with Sheila, and
put out on that gleaming piain of sea, knowing ihat
by and by they would sail into Stornoway harbour
and find the waggonette there, They would not hasten
the voyage. She had never been round the Mull of
Cantyre; and so he would sit by her side, and show
her the wild tides nieetmg there, and the long jets of
white foam shooting up the great wall of rocks. He
would show her the pale coast of Ireland; and then
they would see Islay, of which she had many a ballad
and Story. They would go through the narrow Sound
that is oveilooked by the gloomy mountains of Jura.
They would see the distant Islands whcre the chief of
ColoDsay is still moumed for on the still evenings,
by the hapless merraaiden who sings her wild song
across the sea. They would keep wide of the dan-
gerous currents of Corryvreckan ; and by and by they
would sail into the harbour of Oban, the beautifui
sea-town where Sheiia first got a notion of the greal-
ness of the world lying outside of her native island.
What if she were to come down now from this
busy little seaport, which lay under a pale blue smoke,
and come out upon this pier to meet the free sunlight
and the iresh sea-air blowiog all abouti Surely at a
great distance he could recognize the proud, light
Step, and the proud, sad face. Would she speak
to him; or go past him, with firm lips and piteous
eycs, to wait for the great steamer that was now Com-
ing along out of the eastem luistl Lavender glanced
vaguely round the quays and the thoroughfares lead-
ing to them; but there was no one like Sheila there.
In the distance he could hear the throbbing of the
Claattnatt's engin es, as the big steamer came on
through the white piain. The sun was warmer now
136 A PRiNCESS OF TUULE.
on llie bright waters of the Firlh; and the distant
haze over tlie pale blue mountaius beyond had grown
more luminous, Sraall boats went by; with here and
therc a yachtsman, scarlet-capped, and in white cos-
tume, taking a leisurely breakfast on deck. The ses-
gulls circled about, or dipped down on the waters, 01
chased each other with screams and cries. Theo the
Clansman sailed into the quay, and there was a Hing-
ing of ropes, and gencral huny and bustle, while
people came crowding round the gangways, calling
out to each other in evety variety of dialect and accent.
Sheila was not theie. He ngered about, and
patiently waited for the starting of the steamer, not
knowing how long she ordinarily remained at Greenock.
He was in no hurry, indeed; for after the vessel had
gone, he found himself with a whole day before him,
and with no fixed notion as to how it could be passed.
In other circumstances, he would have been in no
difficuhy aa to the spending of a bright forenoon and
afternoon by the side of the sea. Or he could have
run through to Edinburgh, and called on some artist-
friends there, Or he could have crossed ihe Firth,
and had a day's ramble among the mountains. Bul
now that he was salisfied Sheila had not gone home,
all his fancies and hopes went back to London. She
was in London, And while he was glad she had not
gone straight to her own people with a revelation of
her wrongs, he scarcely dared speculate on what ad-
ventures and experiences mighl have befallen ihose
two nirla turned out ioto a great city, of which they
worc about equally igno-rant,
'i'lio day passed somehow, and at night he was on
lllfl Wtty In London. Next raorning he went down 10
Wllll^hull. und luw Ingram.
A SURPRISE. 137
^Sheila has not gone back to the Highlands, so
f ar as I can make out," he said.
"So much the better," was the answer.
"What am I to do! She must be in London;
and who knows what may befall her)"
"I cannot teil you what you should do. Of course
you would like to know where she is; and I fancy she
would have no objection herseif to letting you know
tliat she was all right, so long as she knew that you would
not go near her. I don't think she has taken so de-
cided a step merely for the purpose of being coaxed
back again that is not Sheila's way."
"I won't go near her," he said. "I only want to
know that she is safe and welL I will do whatever
she likes; but I must know where she is, and that she
has come to no hrm."
"Well," said Ingram, slowly, "I was talking the
matter over with Mrs. Lorraine last night "
*'Does she know?" said Lavender, wincing some-
what.
"Certainly," Ingram answered. "I did not teil
her. I had promised to go up there about something
quite dififerent, when she immediately began to teU
me the news. Of course it was impossible to conceal
such a thing. Don't all the servants about know)"
"I don't care who knows," said Lavender, moodily.
^What does Mrs. Lorraine say about this affair)"
"Mrs. Lorraine says that it serves you right," said
Ingram, bluntly.
"Thank her very mucL I like candour, especially
in a fair-weather friend."
"Mrs. Lorraine is a better friend to you than you
imagine," Ingram said, taking no notice of the sneer.
"When she thought that your going to their house
Ij8 A PiimCESS OF THtn-E.
continually was annoying Sheila, she tried to put a
stop to it for Sheila's sake. And now, at this very
moment, she is doing her very best to find out where
Sheila is; and if she succeeds, she means to go and
plead your cause with the girl."
"I will not have her do anything of the kind,"
Said Lavender, fiercely. "I will plead my own cause
with Sheila. I will have forgiveness from Sheila her-
seif alone not brought to me by any intermeddling
woman."
"You needn't call names," said Ingram, coolly.
"But I confess I think you are right; and 1 told Mrs.
Lorraine that was what you would doubtless say. In
any case, she can do no hrm in trying to find out
where Sheila is."
"And how does she propose to succeed? PolIaVyl
The 'Agony' Columnl Piacards, or a Bellman! I teil
you, Ingram, I won't have that woman meddle in my
afTairs Coming forward as a sister of mercy to heal
the wounded bestowing mock compassion, and laugh-
ing all the time -"
"Lavender, you are beside yourself. That woman
is one of the most good-natured, shrewd, clever, and
amiable woraen I have ever met What has enraged
youl "
"Bah! She has got hold of you too, has shel I
teil you she is a rank impostor."
"An impostor!" said Ingram slowly. "I have heard
a good many people called impostors. Did it ever
occur to you that the blame of the imposture might
possibly lie with the person imposed on) I have
heard of people falltng into the delusion that a cer-
tain modest and simple-minded man was a great poli-
tician or a grcat wit, although he had never clained
SURPRISE. 139
to be anything of the kind; and then, when they
found out that in truth he was just what he had pre-
tended to be, they called out against him as an im-
postor. I have heard, too, of young gentlemen ac-
cusing women of imposture whose only crime was,
that they did not possess qualities which they had
never pretended to possess, but which the young
gentlemen fancied they ought to possess. Mrs. Lor-
raine may be an impostor to you. I think she is a
thoroughly good woman, and I know she is a very
delightful companion. And if you want to know how
she means to find Sheila out, I can teil you. She
thinks that Sheila would probably go to an hotel, but
that afterwards she would try to find lodgings with
some of the people whom she had got to know through
her giving them assistance. Mrs. Lorraine would like
to ask your servants about the women who used to
come for this help. Then, she thinks, Sheila would
probably get some one of these humble friends to call
for her letters, for she would like to hear from her
father, and she would not care to teil him that she
had left your house. There is a great deal of sup-
position in all this; but Mrs. Lorraine is a shrewd
woman, and I would trust her instinct in such matters
a long way. She is quite sure that Sheila would be
too proud to teil her father, and very much averse,
also, to inflicting so severe a blow on him "
"But surely," Lavender said, hastily, "if Sheila
wishes to conceal this affair for a time, she must be-
lieve it to be only temporaryl She cannot propose to
make the Separation final)"
"That I don't know anything about I woijild ad-
vise you to go and see Mrs. Lorraine."
"I won't go and see Mrs. Loname."
140 A PRIKCESS OF THULE.
"Now, ihis is unreasonable, Lavender. You begin
to fancy that Sheila had some sort of dislike to Mrs.
Ixirraine, founded on ignorance; and straightway you
think it is your duty to go and hate the woman.
Whaiever you may think of her, she is williog to do
you a Service."
"Will you go, Ingram, and take her to those ser
"Certainly, I will, if you commission me to do so,"
Said Ingram, readily.
"I suppose they all knowl"
"They do."
"And everyone else^"
"I should think few of your frieods would remain
IQ ignorance of it."
"Ah, well," said Lavender, "if only I could gel
Shea to overlook what is past, this once, I should
not trouble my dear friends and acquaintances for
their sympathy and condolence. By the time I saw
them again, I fancy they would have forgotten ouT
names."
There was no doubt of the fact that the news of
Sheila's flight from her husband's house had travelled
very speedily round the circle of Lavender's friend%
and doubtless, in due time, it reached the ears of bis
aunt. At all events, Mrs. Lavender sent a message to
Ingram, asking him to come and see her, When he
went, he found the little, dry, hard-eyed woman in
terrible passion. She had forgotten all about Marcus
Aurelius, and the composure of a philosopher, and
the effect of anger on the nervous System. She was
bolstered up in bed, for she had had another bad fit;
but she was brisk enough in her manner and fierce
eiiough in her language.
"Mr. Ingram," she said, ihe moment he had en-
tered, "do you consider my nephew a beast)"
"I don't," he said,
"I do," she retorted.
"Then you are quite mtstaken, Mrs. Lavender.
Probably you have heard some exaggerated story of
all this business. He has beer very inconsiderate and
thoughlless, certainly; but I don't believe he quite
knew how sensitive bis wife was; and he is very re-
pentant now, and I know he will keep his promises."
"You would apologize for the devil," said ihe little
old woman, frowning.
"I would try to give him his due, at all events,"
said Ingram, with a laugh. "I know Frank Lavender
very well I have known him for years; and I know
there is good Btuff in him, which may be developed
in proper circumslances. After all, what is there more
common than for a married man to neglect his wife?
He only did unconsciously and thoughtlessly whal
heaps of men do deliberately,"
"You are making me angry," said Mrs. Lavender,
in a. severe voice.
"I don't think il fair to expect men to be demi-
gods," Ingram said, carelessly. "I never met any
demigods myself; they don't live in my neighbour-
hood. Perhaps if I had had some experience of a
batch of them, I should be inore censorious of other
pcople. If you set up Frank, for a Bayard, is it his
fault, or yoursi"
"I am not going to be laSked out of my
sense, and me on my death-bed," said the old lady,
tmpatiently, and yet with some secret hope that
gram would go on talking and amuse her, "I woa^
h^ve you say he is anything but a stupid and
ld lady, I
that In- J
wo^^^J
and u^^^^^l
r
142 A PRINCESS OF THUtE,
grateful boy, who married a wife far too good for him.
He is worse than that lie is much worse than that;
but as this may be my death-bed, I will keep a dril
tongue in my head."
"I thought you did not like his wife very mucbl*
said Ingram.
"I am not bound to like her because I tliink badly
of him, am II She was not a bad sort of girl, after
all temper a little stifT, perhaps; but she was honest
It did Orte's eyes good to look at her bright face, Yes,
she was a good sort of creature in her way. But when
she ran off from him, why didn't she come to mel"
"Perhaps you never encouraged her."
"Encouragement! ^^Tiere ought a married woman
go to but to her husband's relatives) If she cannot
stay with him, let her take the nest best substitate.
It was her duty to come to me,"
"If Sheila had fancied it to be her duty, she
would have come here, at any cost."
"What do you mean, Mr. Ingram?" said Mrs, La-
vender, severely.
"Well, supposing she didn't like you " he was
beginning to say, cautiously, when she sharply inter-
rupted him.
"She didn't like me, eh)"
"I said nothirg of the kind, I was about lo saj
that if she had thought it her duty lo come here, she
would have come, in any circumstances."
"She might have done worse, A young womM
risks a great deal in running away from her husband's
home. People will talk. Who is to make peopk
helieve just the version of the story that the husband
or wife would prefer?"
"And what does Sheila care," said Ingram,
A SURPRISE. 143
hot flush in hls face, '^for the belief of a lot of idle
gossips and slanderers?"
"My dear Mr. Ingram," said the old lady, "you
are not a woman, and you don't know the bother one
has to look after one's reputation. But that is a ques-
tion not likely to interest you. Let us talk of some-
thing eise. Do you know why I wanted you to come
and see me to-day?"
"I am sure I don't**
"I mean to leave you all my money."
He stared. She did not appear to be joking. Was
it possible that her rage against her nephew had car-
ried her to this extreme resolve?
"Oh!" he stammered; "but I won't have it, Mrs.
Lavender."
"But youll have to have it," said the little old
woman, severely. "You are a poor man. You could
make good use of my money ^better than a charity
board that would starve the poor with a penny out
of each Shilling, and spend the other eleven pence in
treating their friends to flower^shows and dinners. Do
you think I mean to leave my money to such people?
You shall have it I think you would look very well
driving a mail-phaeton in the Park; and I suppose you
would give up your pipes and your philosophy, and
your bachelor walks into the country. You would
marry, of course eveiy man is bound to make a fool
of himself that way, as soon as he gets enough money
to do it with. But perhaps you might come across a
clever and sensible woman, who would look after you,
and give you jrour own way while having her ovm,
Only don't marry a fool. Whatever you do, don't
marry a fool, or all your philosophers won't make the
house bearable to you."
L
144 A PRIVCESS OF THULE.
"I am not likely lo many anybody, Mrs. Lavender,"
said Ingram, carelessly.
"Is there no woman you know whom you wouJd
care to marry^'
"Oh," he said, "there is one woman yes who
seems to me about evcrything Ihat a man could wish;
but the notion of my marrying her is absurd. If I
had known in time, don't you see, that I should ever
think of such a thing, I should have begun years ago
to dye my hair. I can't begin now. Grey haJr inspires
reverence, 1 believe; but it is a bad thing to go
courting with."
"You must not talk foolishly," said the ttle old
lady, with a frown. "Do you think a sensible woman
wants to marry a boy, who will torment her wttb hil
foljy, and his empty head, and his running after a
dozen difFerent women? Grey hairl If you think grey
hair is a bad thing to go courting with, I will give
you something better. I will put something in yoiir
band that will make the young lady forget your grey
hair. Oh, of course, you will say that she cannot be
tempted; that she despises money. If so, so much ihe
better; but I have known more women than you, and
my hair is greyer than yours; and you will find thal
3. little money won't stand in the way of your being
accepted."
He had made some gesture of protest, not against
her speaking of his possible marriage, which scarcely
interested him, so retnote was the possibility, bat
against her retuming to this other proposal. And
when he saw the old woman really meant to do this
thing, he found it necessary to declare himself expcitly
on the point.
"Oh, don't imagine, Mrs. Lavender," he said, "that
A SURPRISE. t45
I have any wild horror of money, or that I suppose
anybody eise would liave. I should like lo have five
times, or ten times as nrncli as you seem generously
disposed to give rae. But here is the point, you see.
I am a vain person. I am very proud of my own
opinion of myself; and, if I acceded to what you
propose^if I took your money I suppose I should
be driving about in that fine phaeton you speak of.
That is very good I like driving, and J should be
pleased with the appearance of the trap and the horses.
But what do you fancy I should think of myself
what would be my opinion of my own nobleness, and
generosity, and humanity if I saw Sheila Mackenzie
Walking by on llie pavement, without any carriage to
drive in, perhaps without a notion as to where she
was going to get her dinnerl I should be a great hero
to myself then, shouldn't 11"
"Oh, Sheita again!" said the old woman, in a tone
of vexation. "I can't imagine what there is in that
girl to make men rave so about her. Tliat Jew-boy
is become a Ihorougli nuisance you would fancy she
had just stepped down out of the clouds to present
him with a gold harp, and that he couldn't look up
to her face. And you are just as bad. You are
worse for you don't blow it off in steam. Well, there
need be no difficulty. I meant to leave the girl in
your Charge. You take the money and look after her
I know she won't starve. Take it in trust for her,
if you like."
"Bul that is a fearful responsibility, Mrs. Lavender
be Said, in dismay. "She is a married woman. Her
bnsband is the proper person "
"I teil you I won't give him a farthing!" she said,
whh a sudden sharpnesa that startlcd him. "Nci\. i
146 A PRINCESS OF THLE.
fartliing! If he wanls naoney, let hini work for il, as
olher people do; and then, when he has done that, if
he is to have any of tny money, he must be beholden
for it to his wife and lo you."
"Do you think that Sheila would accept anything'
that she would not immediately hand over to him?"
"Then he must come first to you."
"I have no wish to inllict humiliation on anyone,"
Said Ingram, stiffly. "I don't wish to play the patt of
a little Providence, and mete out punishnaent in iaf.
way. I might have to begin with myself."
"Now, don't be foolish," said the old lady, with a.
menacing composure. "I give you fair waming. The
next fit will do for me. If you don't care to take ray
money, and keep it in trust for this girl you profess
to care 50 much about, I will leave it to found an
institulion. Aiid I have a good idea for an institulion,
mind you. I mean to teach people what tliey should
eat and drink, and the various effects of food on
varioua constitutions."
"It is an important subject," Ingram admitted-
"Is it not^ What is the use of giving people
laborious information about the idle fancies of genera-
tions that lived ages before they were born, while you
are letting them poison their System, and lay up for
themselves a fearfully painful old age, by the
tinuous use of unsuitable foodi Tliat book you gavi
nie, Mr. Ingram, is a wonderful book; but it givt
you little consolation if you know another fit is comini
on. And what is the good of knowing about Epictetud
and Zeno, and the rest, if you've got rheumatisintj
Now I mean to have classes, to teach people
they should eat and drink~and I'll do it, if you wob'
assumc the guardianship of my nephew's wite."
SURPRISE. 147
**But this is the wildest notion I ever heard off'
Ingram protested again. "Hovir can I take Charge of
her? If Sheila herseif had shown any disposition to
place herseif under your care, it might have been
different"
"Oh, it would have been different!" cried the old
lady, with a shrill laugh. ''It would have been different!
And what did you say about her sense of duty to her
husband's relatives? Did you say anything about that?"
"Well " Ingram was about to say, being lost
in amazement at the odd glee of this withered old
creature.
"Where do you think a young wife should go, if
she runs ofF from her husband's house?" cried Mrs.
Lavender, apparently much amused by his perplexity.
**Where can she best escape calumny? Poor man! I
won't frighten you, or disturb you any longer. Ring
the bell, will you? I want Paterson."
Ingram rang.
"Paterson," said Mrs. Lavender, when the tall and
grave woman appeared, "ask Mrs. Lavender if she can
come here for a few minutes."
Ingram looked at the old woman, to see if she
had gone mad; and then, somehow, he instinctively
tumed to the door. He fancied he knew that quick,
light Step. And then, before he well knew how, Sheila
had come forward to him, with her hands outstretched,
and with something like a smile on her pale face. She
looked at him for a second; she tried to speak to him,
but there was a dangerous quivering of the lips; and
then she suddenly burst into tears, and let go his
hands and tumed away. In that brief moment he had
Seen what havoc had been wrought within the past
two or three days. There were the same proud and
r
1 18 A PRIKCESS OF THLE.
handsome features, but they were pale and wan; aod
there was a. piteous and weary look in tlie eyes, ihat
told of ihe trouble and lieartrending of steepless niglits.
"Sheila," he said, following her and taking her
hand, "does anyone knaw of your being here?"
"No," she said, still holding her head aside, and
downcast; "no one. And I do not wish anyone to
know. 1 am going away."
"Where)"
"Don't you ask ioo much, Mr. Ingram," said ihe
old lady, from amid her cushions and curtains. "Give
her that ammonia ihe stopper only. Now, sit down,
child; and dry yoiir eyes, You need not be ashamed
to show Mr. Ingram ihat you knew where yoii oiight
to come to when you left your husband's liouse. And
if you won't stop here, of course I can't compel youj
Ihough Mr. Ingram will teil you you might do worse."
"Sheiia, why do you wish to go away) Do yoU
niean to go back to the LewisV
"0hl no, no!" she said, almost shuddering.
"Where do you wish to gol"
"Anywhere it does not matter. But I cannot
remain here. I should meet with with many people
I used to know. Mrs. Lavender, she is kind enougti
to say she will get rae sorae place, for Mairi and me
ihat is all as yet that is settled."
"Is Mairi with youl"
"Ves; I will go and bring her to you. It
anyone in London she will want to see as much as
you."
Sheila left the room, and by and by came back,
leading the young Highland girl by the band. Maiii
was greatly embarrassed, scarcely knowing whethetj"
she should show any gladness at meeting this oldl
MEETING AND PARTIN. I49
friend amid so much trouble. But when Ingram shook
hands with her, and after she had blushed, and looked
shy, and said, "And are you ferry well, sir?" she
managed somehow to lift her eyes to his face; and
then she said, suddenly
"And it is a good day, this day, for Miss Sheila,
that you will come to see her, Mr. Ingram; for she
will hef a friend now ."
"You silly girl," said Mrs. Lavender, sharply, "why
will you say *Miss Sheila'? Don't you know she is a
married woman?"
Main glanced in a nervous and timid manner to-
wards the bed. She was evidently afraid of the little
shrivelled old woman with the staring black eyes and
the harsh voice.
"Main hasn't forgotten her old habits, that is
all," said Ingram, patting her good-naturedly on the
head.
And then he sat down again; and it seemed so
Strange to him to see these two together again, and
to hear the odd infection of Mairi's voice, that he
almost forgot that he had made a great discoveiy in
leaming of Sheila's whereabouts, and wholly forgot
that he had just been offered, and had just refused, a
fortune.
CHAPTER VIL
Meeting and Parting.
The appearance of Sheila in Mrs. Lavender's house
certainly surprised Ingram; but the motives which led
her to go thither were simple enough. On the mom-
ing on which she had left her husband's house, she
and Main had been driven up to Eustou &^^^ ^Vd.-
[ to a^ffl^
150 A PRINCESE OF TH
tion before she seemed capable of Coming to
cision. Mairi guessed at what liad happened, wiA a
great fear at her heart, and did not dare to speak of
it. She sat, mute and frightened, in a corner of the
cab, and only glanced frora time to time at her
panion's pale face and troubled and distant eyes.
They were driven in to the Station. Sheila gol
out, still seeming to know nothing of what was aroand
her. The cabman took down Mairi's trunk, and handed
it to a porter.
"Where for, missl" said the man. And she started.
"Where will you be going, Miss SheilaT" said
Mairi, timidly.
"It is no matter just now," said Sheila to the por-
ter, "if you will be so kind as to take Charge of Ihe
trunk. And how much raust I pay the cabman from
Notting Hilll"
She gave him the money, and walked into
great stone-paved hall, with its lofty roof aad sounding
echoes,
"Mairi," she said, "I have gone away from mj
own horae, and I have no home for you or myself
either. What are we to dol"
"Are you quite sure, Miss Sheila," said the girl,
dismayed beyond expression, "that you will not go
back to your own houael It wass a bad day this day
that I wass come to London to find you going away
from your own housel"
And Mairi began to cry,
"Will we go back to the Lewis, Miss Sheilal"
said. "It is many a one there will be proud
pleased to see you again in sa Lewis, and there will
be plenty of homes for you there ob, yes! fenymanf
tJiat wiil be glad to see you! And it was a bad di]
MEETIKG AND PARTINO. 151
sa day you left the Lewis whatever; and if you will
go back again, Miss Sheila, you will nefifer hef to go
away again not any more."
Sheila looked at the girl at the pretty pale face,
the troubled light-blue eyes, and the abundant fair-
yellow hair. It was Mairi, sure enough, who was talk-
ing to her; and yet it was in a strnge place. There
was no sea dashmg outside no tide running in from
the Atlantic. And where was old Scarlett, with her
complaints, and her petulance, and her motherly
kindnessf
"It is a pity you have come to London, Mairi,"
Sheila said, wistfully; "for I have no house to take
you into; and we must go now and find one."
"You will not go back to sa Lewis, Miss Sheila?**
"They would not know me in the Lewis any more,
Mairi. I have been too long away, and I am quite
changed. It is many a time I will think of going back;
but when I left the Lewis, I was married; and now
How could I go back to the Lewis, Mairi? They would
look at me. They would ask questions. My father
would come down to the quay, and he would say,
* Sheila have you come back alone?' And all the story
of it would go about the island, and everyone would
say I had been a bad wife, and myhusband had gone
away from me."
"There is not anyone," said Mairi, with the tears
starting to her eyes again, "not from end of sa island
to sa other, would say that of you, Miss Sheila; and
there is no one would not come to meet you, and be
gld sat you will come again to your own home. And
as for going back, I will be ferry glad to go back what-
ever, fbr it was you I wass come to see, and not any
town; and I do not like this town, what I hef seen of
ISi A FKINCBSS OK THULK.
it, and I wiU be teny glad to go away wis you, Mias
Sheila."
Sbeila did not answer. She feit that it was i
possible she could go back to her own people with this
disgrace upon her, and did not even argue ihe ques-
tion with herseif. All her trouble now was to
some harbour of refuge into which she could llec, so
that she might have quiet, and solitude, and an
portunity of studying all that had befallen her.
noise around her the arrival of travellers, the trans-
ference of luggage, the screaming of trains slunntd
her and confused her; and she could only vaguely
thiok of all the people she knew in London, to see to
whom she could go for advice and diiection. They
were not many. One after the other she went ovet
the acquaintances she had made; and not one of theni
appeared to her in the light of a friend. One friend
she had, who would have rejoiced lo have been of the
least assistance to her; but her husband liad forbidden
her to hold communication with him, and she feit a
Strange sort of pride, even at this moment, in resolving
to obey that injunction. In all this great city that lay
around her, there was no other to whom she could
frankly and readily go. That one friend she had poa-
sessed before she came to London; in London,
had not made another.
And yet it was necessary to do something; for who
could teil but that her husband might conie to this Sta-
tion in search of her? Mairi's anxiety, too, was
creasing every moment; insortiuch that she was feirly
trcmbling with excitement and fatigue. Sheila resolved
that she would go down and throw herseif on the
tender niercies of that terrible old lady in Kensingtpn
Gore. For one thing, she instinctivcly sought ihe bdp.
h
MEETING AND PAETING. I53
f a woman in her present plight; and perhaps this
harslily-spoken old lady would be gentle to her when
all her story was told. Anolher thing that prompled
's decision was a sort of secret wish to identify her-
seif even yet with her husband's famiiy; to prove to
herseif, as it were, that they had nol cast her off as
being unworthy of him. Nothing was further from her
mind at this moment than auy desire to pave the way
for reconciliation and reimion with her husband, Her
wbole anxiety was to get away from him; to put an
end to a state of thlngs which she had found to be
re than shc could bear. And yet, if she had had
friends in London called respectively Mackenzie and
Lavender, and if she had been equally intimate with
both, she would at this moment have preferred to go
for help lo those bearing the name of Lavender.
There was doubtless soraething strangely incon-
eistent in this instinct of wifely loyalCy and duty in a
vornan who had just voluntarily lefc her husband's
house. Lavender had desired her not to hold com-
munication with Edward Ingram; even now she would
respect his wish. Lavender would prefer that she
sbould, in any gieat extremity, go to his aunt for as-
sistance and counsel; and to his aunt, despite her
own dislike of the woman, she wouid go. Al this
moment, when Sheila's proud spirit had risen up in
revolt against a System of treatment that had become
insuffetable to her, when she had been forced lo leave
her home and incur the contemptuous compassion of
friends and acquaintances, if Edward Ingram himsetf
had happened to meet her, and had hegun
hard thlngs of Lavender, she would have sharply
called him to a sense of the discretion that one mi
use in speaking to a wife of hei husband.
leave
m of
msetf J
. say I
y re- J
r
151 J* pRWCESs or THtn,^.
The two homeless girls got into another cab, and
were driven down to KensiagtoD Gore. SheUa asked
if she could see Mre. Lavender. She knew thal the
old lady had had another bad fit; but she was sup-
posed to be recovering rapidly. Mrs. Lavender would
see her in her bedroom; and so Sheila went up.
The girl could not speak.
"Yes, I See it something wiong about that pre-
cions husband of yours," said the old lady, watching
her keenly. "I expected it. Go on, What is ihe
matterl"
"1 have left him," Sheila said, with her face vray
pale, but no sign of emotion about the firm lips.
"Oh, good gracious, child! Left liimi How man)'
people know iti"
"No one, but yourself, and a young Highland girl
who has come up to see me."
"Vou came to me first of alll"
"Yes."
"Have you no other friends to go tot"
"I considered thal I ought to come to yon."
There was no cunnJng in the speechj it was die
simple truth. Mrs. Lavender looked at her hard for
a second or two, and then said, in what she meant
to be a kind way
"Come here, and sit down, child; and teil me all
about it. If no one eise knows it, there is no hrm
done. We can easily patch it up before it gels
abroad,"
"I did not come to you for tbat, Mrs. luvender,"
said Sheila, calmiy. "That is impossible. Thal is all
over. I have come to ask you where I ruay get lodg-
inga for ray friend and myself."
"Teil me alt about it, first: and then we'll see
whelher it can'l be mended. Mind, I am ready to be
on your side, though I am your husband's aunL I
think you're a good girl a bit of a temper, you know
but you manage to keep ic quiet ordinarily. You
teil me all about it; and yoti'U see if I haven't means
to bring him to reason. Oh, yes oh, yes I'm an
old woman; but I can find sorae means to bring him
to reason." And she laughed an odd, shrill laugh.
A hol flush came over Sheila's face. Had she
come to this old woman only to make her husband's
degradation more completel Was he to be intimidated
into making friends with her by a threat of the with-
drawal of that money tbat Sheila had begun to detesti
And this was what her notions of wifely duty had
led toi
"Mrs. Lavender," she Said, with the proud lips
very proud indeed, "I musi say this to you before I
teil you anything. It is very good of you to say you
will take my side; but I did not come to you to com-
plain. And I would rather not have any sympathy
ftom you if it only means that you will speak ill of
my husband. And if you think you can make him
do Ihings because you give him money perhaps that
is tnie at present; but it may not alwaj^ be true, and
you cannot eitpect me to wish it to conlinue. I would
rather have my present trouble twenty timesover than
see him being bought over to any woman's wishes."
Mrs. lavender stared at her.
"Why, you astonishing girl, I believe you are still
in lowe with that man."
Sheila aaid nothing.
"Is it truel" she said.
"I suppose a woman ought lo love her husbai
Sheila answered.
^dfltaj
r
1^6 A PIUMCXSS OF THDLK.
"Even if he turns her oot of the houset"
"Peihaps ii is she who is Eo blame," Sheila sid,
humbly. "Perhaps her educauon was wrong or she
expects too mach thal is unreasonable or perbaps
she bas a bad tempter. You think I have a bad
temper, Mrs. Labender; and might it not be ihatl"
"Weil, I ihink you wani your own way; and doubt-
less you expect it now. I suppose I am to listen lo
all your slory, and I must not say a word about my
own nephew. ut sit down and tcU all about it; and
then you can justify him afterwards, if you like."
It was probably, however, ihe notion that Sheila
would try to justify Lavender all through that put ihe
old lady on her guard, and made her, indeed, regard
Lavender's conduct in an unfairly bad light. Sheili
told the Story as simply as she coiUd, putiing every-
ihing down to her husband's advantage that was pos-
sible, and asking for no sympathy whatsoever, She
only wanted to remain away from his house; and by
what means could she and ihis young cousin of hers
find cheap lodgings where they could live quiey, and
without much fear of detectionl
Mrs. Lavender was in a rage; and, as she w
not allowed to vent it on the proper object, she tumed
upon Sheila herseif.
"The Highlanders are a proud race," she saJd,
sharply. "I should have thought that rooros in this
house, even with the society of a cantankerous old
woman, would have becn tolerated for a time."
"It is very kind of you to make the offer," Sheila
Said, "but I do not wish to have to meet my husband
or any of his friends. There is enough trouble without
that. If you could teil me where to get lodgings not
fai from lliis neighbourhood, I would come to sec you
MEETING AND PARTING. 15?
sometimes at such lioura as I know he cantiot be
here."
"But I don't iinderstand what you mean. You
won't go back to yoiir husband aUhongh I could
manage that for you directly, You won't hear of ne-
gotiations, or of any prospect of yoiir going back;
and yei you won't go home to your father."
"I cannot do either," Sheila said.
"Do you mean to live in ihose lodgings alwaysl"
"How can I telll" Said the girl, piteously. "I only
wish to be away; and I cannot go back to my papa,
wilh all this story to teil him."
"Weil, I didn't want to distress you," said the old
woman. "Von know your own affaire best. I ihink
you are mad. If you would caimly reasnn wilh your-
self, and show to yourself Ihat, in a liundred years, or
i than that, it won't matter whether you gratified
your pride or no, you would see that the wisest thing
you can do now is to take an easy and comfortable
course. You are in an excited and nervous state at
present, for example; and that is destroying so much
of the vital portion of your frame. If you go into
these lodgings, and live like a rat in a hole, you will
have nothing to do but nurse Ihese sortows of yours,
and find them grow bigger and bigger, while you grow
more and more wretched. All that is mere pride, and
sentiment, and foUy. On the other hand, look at Ihis,
Your husband is sorry you are away from him you
may take that for granted. You say he was merely
thoughtless; now he has got soraething lo make him
think, and would without doubt come and beg your
pardon, if you gave him a cliance, I writc to him;
be comes down here; you kiss and make good friends
I5S A PBINCESS 01^ IHULS.
again, and to-morrow moming you are comfortable
and happy again."
"To-morrow morningf" said Sheila, sadly. "Do
you know how we should be situaled to-morrow mom-
ing) Tlie Story of my going away wouid becotne
known to his friends; he would go atnong them as
though hc had suffered sorae disgrace, and I ihe cause
of it. And though he is a man, and would soon be
careiess of that, how could I go wilh liim amongst his
friends, and feel ihat I had shamed html It would
be worse Chan ever belween s; and I have no wish
to begin again what ended this morning none al a]t,
Mrs. Laven der."
"And do you mean to say that you intend to live
permanently apart from your husband!"
"I do not know," said Sheila, in a despairing tone.
"I cannot teil you. What I feel is that, with all ihis
trouble, it is better that our life as it was in that house
should come to an end."
Then she rose. There was a tired look about
her face, as if she were too weary to care whether tbis
old woman would help her or no. Mrs. Lavender re-
garded her for a moment, wondering, perhaps, that s
girl so handsome, fine-coloured, and proud-eyed, should
be distressing herseif with imaginary sentiments, instead
of taking life cheerfully, enjoying tlie hour as it passed,
and being quite assured of the interest, and iiking,
and homage of everyone with whom she came in
contact. Sheila tumed to the bed once more, about
to say that she had troubled Mrs. Lavender too much
already, and that she would look afler thesc lodgings.
But the old woman apparently anticipated as mudi,
and said, with much deliberation, that if Sheila and
her companion would only remain one or two dajn
MEETTING AND PARTINGi 159
inthe house, proper rooms should be provided for
them somewhere. Young girls could not venture into
lodgings without strict inquiries being made. Sheila
should have suitable rooms; and Mrs. Lavender would
see that she was properly looked after, and that she
wanted for nothing. In the meantime she must have
some money.
"It is kind of you," said the girl, blushing hoy,
*'but I do not require it."
"Oh, I suppose we are too proud!" said the old
woman. "If we disapprove of our husband taking
money, we must not do it either. Why, child, you
have leamt nothing in London. You are a savage
yet. You must let me give you something for your
pocket, or what are you to do? You say you have
left everything at home; do you think hair-brushes,
for example, grow on trees, that you can go into
Kensington Gardens and stock your rooms?"
"I have some money a few pounds that my papa
gave me," Sheila said.
"And when that is done?"
"He will give me more."
"And yet you don't wish him to know you have
left your husband's house! What will he make of
these repeated demands for money?"
"My papa will give me anything I want, without
asking any questions."
"Then he is a bigger fool than I expected. Oh,
don't get into a temper again. Those sudden shocks
of coloiu*, child, show me that your heart is out of
Order. How can you expect to have a regulr pulsa-
tion if you flare up at anything anyone may say? Now
go and fetch me your Highland cousin."
Mairi came into the rooi in a vei^ \\tavoi ia^v3^^
l60 A PRINCESS OV THTILE.
and stared wilh her big, light-blue eyes into tlie dusky
recess in which the little old woman sat up in bed.
Slieila 10 ok her forward.
"This is my cousin Mairi, Mrs, Lavender."
"And are yoii Terry well, ma'aml" said Main,
holding out her hand very much as a boy pretends to
hold out bis hand to a tiger in the Zoological Gardens,
"Well, young lady," said Mrs. Lavender, staring at
her, and a pretty mess ^ou have got us into!"
"Mel" said Mairi, almost with a cry of pain: she
had not imagined before IJiat she had anything to do
with Sheila's trouble.
"No, no, Mairi," her companion said, taking her
hand; "it was not you. Mrs. Lavender, Mairi does
not understand our way of joking in London. Per-
haps she will leam before she goes back to the High-
"There is one thing," said Mrs. Lavender, obsor-
ing that Mairi's eyes had fied the momeni she was
charged with bringing Irouble on Sheila, "there is one
thing you people from the Highlands seetn never dis-
posed to leam, and that is, to have a little control
over your passions. If one speaks to you a coiiple rf
words, you either begin to cry or go off into a flash
of rage. Don't you know how bad that is for the
healthl"
"And yet," said Sheila, with a smile and it seemed
so Strange to Mairi to see her siiiile^"we will not
compare badly in heaJth with the people about us here."
Mrs. Lavender dropped the question, and began 10
explain to Slieila what she advised her to do. In llie
meantime both the gitls were to remain in her housft
She would guarantee their being met by no one. When
suitable rooms had been looked out by Paterson, the*
MEETING AND PARTING. l6l
were to remove thither. The whole Situation of af-
fairs was at once perceived by Mrs. Lavender's atten-
dant, who was given to understand that no one was
to know of young Mrs. Lavender's being in the house.
Then the old woman, much contented with what she
had done, resolved that she would reward herseif with
a joke; and sent for Edward Ingram.
When Sheila, as aU-eady described, came into the
room, and found her old friend there, the resolution
she had formed went clean out of her mind. She
forgot entirely the ban that had been placed on In-
gram by her husband. But after her first emotion on
seeing him was over, and when he began to discuss
what she ought to do, and even to advise her in a
diffident sort of way, she remembered all that she had
forgotten, and was ashamed to find herseif sitting
there, and talking to him , as if it were in her father's
house at Borva. Indeed, when he proposed to take
the management of her affairs into his own hands,
and to go and look at certain apartments that Pater-
son had proposed, she was forced, with great heart-
buming and pain, to hint to him that she could not
avail herseif of his kindness.
"But why?" he asked, with a stare of surprise.
**You remember Brighton," she answered, looking
down. ''You had a bad retum for your kindness to
me then."
"Oh, I know," he said, carelessly. "And I suppose
Mr. Lavender wished you to cut me for my imperti-
nent interference. But things are very much changed
now. But for the time he went North, he has been
with me nearly every hour since you left"
"Has Frank been to the Lewis?" she said, sudden-
l/y with a look of fear on her face.
A Princiu of ThuU. iL W
l6i A PRINCESS OF THULK.
"Oh no; he hasonlybeetito Glasgow to See ifyouhad
gone to catch the Clansman, and go North from there."
"Did he take the iiouble to do all thatl" she asked,
slowly and wistfully.
"Troublel" cried Ingram. "He appears to me
neither to eal nor sleep day or night; but to go wander-
ing about in search of you in every place where hc
fancies you reiay be. I never saw a man so beside
himself wii anxiety "
"I did not wish lo make him anxious," said
Sheila, inalowvoice. "Willyoutellhimthatlam welll'
Mrs. Lavender began lo smile. Were there not
evident signs of softemngl Eut Ingram, who knew
the girl better, was not deceived by these appearances.
He could See that Sheila merely wished that her hus-
band ahould not suffer painon her account: that was alL
"I was about to ask. you," he said, gently, "whati
niay say to him. He comes to me continually; for he
has always fancied that you would communicate with
me. What shall I say to him, Sheila'l"
"You may teil him that I am well."
Mairi had by thts time stepped out of the room.
Sheila sat with her eyes fixed on the floor, her fingen
workitig nervously with a paper-knife she held.
"Nothing more than thati" he said.
"Nothing more."
He saw by her face, and he could teil by the sound
of her voice, that her decision was resolute.
"Don't be a fool, child," said Mrs. Lavender, em-
phaticaljy. "Here 13 your husband's fi-iend, who can
make everyJhing straight and comfortable for you tn
an hour or two, and you quietly put aside the chance
of reconciliation, and bring on yourseif any amount
ol misery. 1 don't speak for Frank. Men can uko i
MEETING AND PARTING. lj
care of themselves; they have clubs, and friends, and
arausements for the whole day long. But you what
a pleasant life you would have, shut up in a couple
of rooms, scarcely daring to show yoiurself at a win-
dow! Your fine sentiments are all very well; but they
won't stand in the place of a husband to you; and
you will soon find out the difference between living by
yourself like that, and having some one in the house to
look after you. Am I right, Mr. Ingram, or am I wrong?"
Ingram paused for a moment, and said
"I have not the same courage that you have, Mrs.
Lavender. I dare not advise Sheila one way or the
other just at present But if she feels in her own
heart that she would rather retum now to her husband,
I can safely say that she would find him deeply grate-
ful to her, and that he would try to do everything
that she desired. That I know. He wants to see
you, Sheila, if only for five minutes to beg your for-
giveness "
''I cannot see him," she said, with the same sad
and settled air.
"I am not to teil him where you arel"
"Oh no!" she cried, with a sudden and startled
emphasis. "You must not do that, Mr. Ingram. Pro-
mise me you will not do that?"
"I do promise you; but you put a painful duty on
me, Sheila; for you know how he will believe that a
Short interview with you would put everything right,
and he will look on me as preventing that."
Do you think a short interview at present would
put everything right?" she said, suddenly looking up,
and regarding him with her clear and steadfast eyes.
He dared not answer. He feit in his inmost heart
that it would not
104 A PBINCESS OF nnjLB.
"Ah, well," Said Mrs. Lavender, "young people
have much Eatisfaction in being proud; when they
corae to my age, they roay find they would liave becn
happier if they had beeil less disdainful."
"It ia not disdain, Mrs, Lavender," said Shcila. gently.
"Whaiever it is," said the old woman, "1 must
remind you two people that 1 am an invalid.
away, and have luncheon. Palerson will look after
you. Mr. Ingram, give me that book, ihat I may read
mysclf into a nap ; and don't forget what 1 espect of you."
Ingram suddenly remembered. He and Sheila and
Mairi sat down to luncheon in the dining-rooia; and,
while he strove to get them to talk aboul Borva, he
was thinking all the time of the extraordinary positioo
he was expected to assiime towards Sheila. Not only
was he to be the repository of Ihe secret of her place
of residence, and the message-carrier between hersetf
and her husband; but he was also to take Mrs, Lavei
der's fortune, in the event of her dying, and hold it in
trust for the young wife, Surely this old woman, witk
her suspicious ways and her worldly wisdom, woidd
not he so foolish as to hand him over all her properiy,
free of conditions, on the simple understanding that
when he chose he could give what he chose to Sheilal
And yet that was what she had vowed she would do,
to Ingram's profoiind disinay.
He laboured hard to ghten the spirits of thos
two girls. He talked of John the Piper, and said he
would invite him up to London; and described his
probable appearance in the Park. He told them stori
of his adventures while he was catnping out with sonW
young arlists in the westem Highlands; and told thein
anecdotes, old, recent, and of his own invention, aboiit
Ihe people he had met, Had they heard of the slewaid
MEETING AND PARTING. 165
on board one of the Clyde steamers, who had a per-
centage on the drink consumed in the cabin, and who
would call out to the captain, "Why wass you going
so fast? Dinna put her into the quay so fast! There
is a gran' Company down below, and they are drinking
fine!" Had he ever told them of the porter at Arran
who had demanded sixpence for carrying up some
luggage, but who, after being sent to get a sovereign
changed, came back with only eighteen Shillings, say-
ing, "Oh, yes, it iss sexpence! Oh, aye, it iss sex-
pence! But it iss two shuUens ta you!'* Or of the
other, who, after being paid, hung about the cottage-
door for nearly an hour, until Ingram, coming out,
asked him why he had waited; whereupon he said,
with an air of perfect indifiference, "Oo aye, there
wass something said about a dram; but hoot toots! it
is of no consequence whatever!" And was it true
that the Sheriff of Stomoway was so kind-hearted a
man that he remitted the punishment of certain cul-
prits, ordained by the Statute to be whipped with
birch-rods, on the ground that the island of Lewis
produced no birch, and that he was not bound to
import itl And had Mairi heard any more of the
Black Horse of Loch Suainabhal) And where had
she pulled those splendid bunches of bell-heather?
He suddenly stopped, and Sheila looked up with
inquiring eyes. How did he know that Mairi had
brought those things with her? Sheila saw that he
must have gone up with her husband, and must have
seen the room which she had decorated in Imitation
of the small parlour at Borvabost. She would rather
not think of that room now.
"When are you going to the Lewis?" she asked of
hiin, with her eyes cast down.
r
166 A FRINCESS OF THULE.
"Well, I ihink 1 have changed my mlnd about
thal, Shea. 1 don't think I shall go to the Lewis
this autuniii."
Her face became more and more embarrassed;
how was she to thank him for bis continued thoughi-
fulness and self-sacrificel
"There is no necessity," he said, lightly. "The
man I am going wilh has no particular purpose in
view. We shall merely go cruising about those
wonderful lochs and Islands; and I am sure to run
against sorae of those young fellows I know, who are
prowling about the fishing- vi Hages with portable easels.
They are good boys, those boys, They are very
hospilable, if they have only a single bed-roora in a
small cottage as their studio and reception-room com-
bined. I should not wonder, Sheila, if I went ashore
somewhere, and put up ray lot with those young
fellows, and iistened to their wicked slories, and ve
on Whisky and herrings for a month. Would you like
to see me retora to Whitehall in kiltsl And I should
go into the office, and salute everybody with 'And are
you ferry welll' just as Main does. But don't be
down-hearted, Mairi, You speak English a good deal
better than many English folks I know; and by ihe
time you go back to the Lewis, we shal! have you fil
to become a school-miscress, not only in Borva, but in
Storno way itself,"
"I wass told it is feny good English they hef io
Stomoway," said Mairi, not very sure whether Mr. In-
gram was joking or not.
"My dear child!" he cried, "I teil you it is the
best English in the world. If tlie Queen only knev,
sbe would send her grandclldren to be educaied
tliere. But I must go now. Good-bye, Mairi. i
MEETING AND PARTING. 167
mean to come and take you to a theatre some night
soon."
Sheila accompanied him out into the hall.
"When shall you see him?" she said, with her
eyes cast down.
"This evening," he answered.
''I should like you to teil him that I am well, and
that he need not be anxious about me/'
"And that is all?"
"Yes, that is aU."
"Very well, Sheila. I wish you had given me a
pleasanter message to carry; but when you think of
doing that, I shall be glad to take it."
Ingram left, and hastened in to his ofce. Sheila's
affairs were considerably interfering with his attendance
there, there could be no question of that; but he had
the reputation of being able to get through his work
thoroughly, whatever might be the hours he devoted
to it; so that he did not greatly fear being rebuked for
his present irregularities. Perhaps, if a grave official
waming had been probable, even that would not have
interfered much with his determination to do what
could be done for Sheila.
But this business of carrying a message to La-
vender was the most serious he had as yet under-
taken. He had to make sundry and solemn resolves
to put a bold face on the matter at the outset, and
declare that wild horses would not tear from him any
further information. He feared the piteous appeals
that might be made to him; the representations that,
merely for the sake of an imprudent promise, he was
delaying a reconciliation between these two until that
might be impossible; the reasons that would be urged
on him for considering Sheila's welfare as paiaisioxc^
l68 A PEINCESS OF THULK,
to his own scruples. He went through tlie interview,
as he foresaw it, a dozen times over; and conslructed
replies to each argument and entreaty. Of course it
wouid be simple enough to raeet all Lavender's dc-
mands with a simple "No;" but ihere are drcum-
stances in which the heroic melhod of solving difii-
culties becomes a irifle inhuman.
He had promised to dine with Lavender that
evening at his club, When he went aloog lo SL
James's Street at the appointed hour. his host had
not airived. He walked about for ten rainutes, and then
Lavender appeared, haggard and worn-out with fatigue.
"I have heard nothing I can hear nothing 1
have been everywhere," he said, leading the way ai
once inCo the dining-rooni. "1 am sorry I have kept
you waiting, Ingram,"
They sal down at a small sidc-table; ihere were
few men in the club at thJs late season; so that they
could talk freely enough when the waiter had come
and gone.
"Well, I have some news for you, Lavender" In-
gram Said.
"Do you know where she isT" said Ihe other, eagerly.
"Yes."
"WhereJ" he almost called aloud, in his anxiety.
"Well," Ingram said, slowly, "she is in London,
and she is very well; and you need have no anxiety
about her."
"But where is shel" demanded Lavender, laking
no heed of the waiter who was standing by and an-
corking a bottle.
"I promised her not to teil you."
"Von have spoken with her, thenl"
"Yes."
MEETING AND PARTIN6. 169
"What did she sayl Where has she beenl Good
heavens, Ingram! you don't mean to say you are go-
ing to keep it a secret?"
"Oh no," Said the other; "I will teil you every-
thing she said to me, if you like. Only I will not teil
you where she is "
"I will not ask you," said Lavender, at once, "if
she does not wish me to know. But you can teil me
about herseif. What did she say? What was she
looking like? Is Main with herl"
"Yes, Main is with her. And of course she is
looking a little troubled, and pale, and so forth; but
she is very well, I should think, and quite comfortably
situated. She said I was to teil you that she was well,
and that you need not be anxious."
"She sent a message to me?"
**That is it"
"By Jove, Ingram! how can I ever thank you
enoughl I feel as glad just now as if she had really
come home again. And how did you manage itl"
Lavender, in his excitement and gratitude, kept
filling up his friend's glass the moment the least
quantity had been taken out of it; the wonder was he
did not fill all the glasses on that side of the table,
and beseech Ingram to have two or three dinners all
at once.
"Oh, you needn't give me any credit about it,"
Ingram said. "I stumbled against her by accident
at least, I did not find her out myself."
"Did she send for youl"
"No. But look here, Lavender, this sort of cross-
examination will lead to but one thing; and you say
yourself you won't try to find out where she is."
"Not from you, anyway. But how caa i ViX^
170 A PRINCESS Or THTILK.
wanting to know where she Ist And my aunt was
saying just now ihat very likely she had gone righc
away to the other end of London to Feckbam, or
some such place."
"You have seen Mrs. Lavender, then)"
"I have just come from there. The old heathen
thinks the whole affair rather a good joke; but per-
haps thal was oniy her way of showing her temper,
for she was in a bit of a rage, 10 be sure. And so
Sheila sent mc that message?"
"Yes."
"Does she want moneyl Would you take her
some money from me)" he said eagerly. Any bond of
Union between him and Sheila would be of some value.
"I don't think she needs money; and in any case,
I know she wouldn't take it from you."
"Well, now, Ingram, you have seen her, and talked
with her. What do you think she intends to do' What
do you think she would have me dol"
"These are very dangerous questions for me to an-
swer," Ingram said. "I don't see how you can expe
me to assume the responsibility."
"I don't ask you to do that at all. But I never
found your advice to fail. And if you give me any
hint as to what I should do, I will do it on my own
responsibility."
"Then I won't. But this I will do. I will tcU yoU
as nearly as ever I can what she said; and you can
judge for yourself."
Very cautiously indeed did Ingram set out on this
perilous underlaking. It was no easy matter so 10
shut out all references to Sheila's suiroundings, ihal
no hint should be given to this anxious listener as B
her whereabouts. But Ingram got through it success-
MEETING AND PARTING. I7I
fully; and when he had finished, Lavender sat some
time in silence, merely toying with his knife, for, in-
deed, he had eaten nothing.
"If it is her wish," he said, slowly, "that I should
not go to see her, I will not try to do so But I
should like to know where she is. You say she is
comfortable, and she has Mairi for a companion and
that is something. In the meantime, I suppose I must
wait."
"I don't see myself how waiting is likely to do
much good," said Ingram. "That won't alter your
relations much."
'4t may alter her determination. A woman is
sure to soften into charity and foigiveness. She can't
help it."
"If you were to ask Sheila now, she would say
she had forgiven you already. But that is a different
matter from getting her to resume her former method
of life with you. To teil you the truth, I should
strongly advise her, if I were to give advice at all, not
to attempt anything of the sort. One failure is bad
enough, and has wrought sufficient trouble."
"Then what am I to do, Ingram I"
"You must judge for yourself what is the most
likely way of winning back Sheila's confidence in you,
and the most likely conditions under which she might
be induced to join you again. You need not expect
to get her back into that Square, I should fancy; thai
experiment has rather broken down."
"Well," said Lavender, "I sha'n't bore you any
more just now about my affairs. Look after your
dinner, old fellow; your starving yourself won't help
me much."
**I don't mean to starve myself at all^" sa\d \tv.-
17
gram, stcadily making his wa.y through ihe abucdant
dishes his friend had ordered. "But I had i
good luncheon this moming with- "
"With Sheila," Lavunder said, quickly.
"Yes. Does it surprise you to find that she is in
a place where she can gel foodl I wish Ihe poor
child had made better ase of her opponunitJes,"
"Ingram," he said, after a minute, "could you tte
some money from me, wUhut her knowing of it, and
try to gel her some of the litde things she likes
Eome deticacies, you know^they might be smuggied
in, as it were, without her knowing who had paid for
theml There was ice-pudding, you know, with straw-
bciries in it, that she was fond of
"My dear fellow, a woman in her position thinks
of something eise than ice-pudding in strawbemes
"Bul why shouldn't she have it all tlie samel I
would give twenty pounds to get some lillle gralifica-
tion of that sort conveyed to her; and if you could
try, Ingram
"My dear fellow, she has got everything she can
wnnt; ihere was no ice-pudding at luncheon,
doubllcss there will be at dinner."
So Shtila was staying in a house in which ices
could bc preparedl Lavender's Suggestion had had
no cunning Intention in it; but here was an obvious
jiieco of information. She was in no humble lodging-
noiiA, Ihen. She was either staying witli some fiiends
and he had no friends but Lavender's friends or
she wfti siaying al an hoteL He remembered that she
had unes dined al the Laogham, Mrs. Kavanagh hav-
illtl peibiiaded her to go to tneet some American
visilms. Might she have gone thilher?
^rtVtiuli:! w somewbat silent duriog the rest of
MEETING ANB PARTINO. I73
that meal; for he was thinking of other things besides
the mere question as to where Sheila might be staying.
He was trying to imagine what she may have feit be-
fore she was driven to this Step. He was tr3dng to
recall all manner of incidents of their daily life that
he now saw might have appeared to her in a very
different light from that in which he saw them. He
was wondering, too, how all this could be altered; and
a new life began for them both, if that were still possible.
They had gone up-stairs into the smoking-room,
when a card was brought to Lavender.
"Young Mosenberg is below," he said to Ingram.
"He will be a livelier companion for you than I could
be. Waiter, ask this gentleman to come up."
The handsome Jew-boy came eagerly into the
room, with much excitement visible on his face.
"Oh, do you know," he said to Lavender, "I have
found out where Mrs. Lavender is, yes: she is at your
aunt's house. I saw her this aftemoon for one mo-
ment "
He stopped; for he saw by the vexation on In-
gram's face that he had done something wrong.
"Is it a mistakel" he said. "Is it a secreti"
"It is not likely to be a secret if you have got
hold of it,'' said Ingram, sharply.
^'I am very sorry," said the boy. "I thought you
were all aipcious to know "
"It does not matter in the least," said Lavender,
quietly, to both of them. "I shall not seek to disturb
her. I am about to leave London.''
"Where are you going," said the boy.
"I don't know yet."
That, at least, had been part of the result of his
meditations; and Ingram, looking at him, wondered
:74 A PRINCESS OF THULE,
whether he ineant lo go away without trying to say
one Word to Shell a.
"Look here, Lavender," he said, "you must not
fancy we were trying to play any useless and imperti-
nent trick, To-morrow or next day Sheila will leave
your aunt's house; and then I should have told yoii
she had been there, and how the old lady received
her. It was Sheila's own wish that the lodgings she is
going to should not be known, She fancies that would
save both of you a great deal of unnecessary and
fruitless pain, do you see. That really is her only
object in wishing to have any concealment about Ihe
matter."
"But Ihere is no need for any such concealment,"
he said. "You may teil Sheila that if she likes t
stay on with my aunt, so much the better; and I take
it very kind of her that she went there, instead of
going home, or to a strnge house."
"Am I to teil her that you mean to leave Londonl"
"Yes."
They went into the bliard-room. Mosenberg was
not permittcd to play, as he had not dined in
club; but Ingram and Lavender proceeded to hai
game, the former being content to accept somelhing
like thirty in a hundred. It was speedily very clear
that Lavender's heart was not in the contest. He kepi
forgelting which ball he had been playing; missing
easiy shots; playing a perversely wrong game; and so
Idrlh. And yet his spirits were not much downcasL
"I Peter Hewetson still at Tarbert, do you knowt"
he dHkH of Ingram.
"l believc so. I heard of him lately. He and one
B^ IWrt iwnre are there."
"j ^miposft yoii'll look in on ihem if you goNoiiI"
MEETING AND PARTING. 1 75
"Certain. The place is badly perfumed, but
picturesque; and there is generally plenCy of whisky
about."
"When do you go Northt"
"I don't know. In a week or two."
That was all that Lavender hinted of his plans.
He went home eariy that night, and spent an hour or
two in packing up some things, and in writing a long
letter to his aunt, which was destined considerably to
astonish that lady. Then he lay down, and had a few
ho Urs' rest.
In the early moming he went out and walked
across Kensington Gardens down to the Gore. He
wished to have one look at the house in which Sheila
was; or perhaps he might, frotn a distance, see her
come out 00 a simple errandl He knew, for example,
that she had a superstitious liking for posting her
letters herseif; in wet weather or dry, she invariably
carried her own conespondence to the nearest pillar-
post Perhaps he might have one glimpse of her face,
to see how she was looking, before he left London.
There were few people about; one or two iwell-
known lawyers and merchants were riding by to have
their moming canter in the Park; the shops were being
opened. Over there was the house with its daik
front of bricks, its hard ivy, and its small Windows
with formal red curtains in which Sheila was im-
mured. That was certainly not the palace that
beautiful Sea-Frincess should have inhabited. Where
were the pine woods around it, and the lofly hls,
and the wild beating of the waves on the sands be-
Iowl And now it seemed strnge and sad that just as
he was about to go away to the North, and breathe
[he Salt air ogain, and find the strong west wiods
J
176 A PRINCESS OF THLK.
blowing across ihe mountain peaks and through the
fume, heila, a. daughler of the sea and the rocks,
should be hiding herseif in obscure lodgings in the
liearl of a great city. Perhaps he could not but
think at tbis lime if be had only the chance of
spcaking to her for a coiiple of momenls he could
liersuade her to forgive him everylhing tbat had bap-
pened, and go aivay with him away from London
and all ihe associations that had vexed her and al-
most broke her heart^to the free, and open, and
joyous life on the far sea-coasts of the Hebrides.
Something caused him to turn his head for 3
second, and he knew that Sheila was Coming along the
pavemenl, not from, but towards the house, It was
too latc to think of getting out of her way; and yet
he dared not go up to her and apeak to her, as he
had wished to do. Sbe, too, had seen him. There
was a quick, frightened look in her eyes; and then she
came along, with her face pale, and her head down-
casL He did not seek to Interrupt her. His eyes,
too, were lowered as she passed him without taking
any notice of his presence , althoiigh the sad face and
the troubled ups told of the pain at her heaiL
had hoped, perchance, for one word, for even a sign
of recognition; but she went by him calmly, giaveiy,
and silently. She went into the house; and he tumed
away, wilh a weight at his heart, as thoogh the gates
of heaven had been closed against him.
CHAPTER Vin.
"Likc Hadrianus and Aiigiislia.'"
The Island of Borva lay warm, and green,
bright under a blue skyj there were ng white cib of
"l.IKE HADRIANUS AND AUGUSTUS." IJ?
foara on Loch Roag, but only the long Atlantic swell
Coming in to fall on the white beach; away over there
in the soulh the fine greys and purples o( the giant
Suainabhal shone in the sunlight amid the clear air;
and the beautiful seapyots flew about the rocks, their
Bcreaming being the only sound audible in the still-
ness. The King of Borva was down by the shore,
seated on a stool, and engaged in the idyilic Operation
of painting a boat which had been hauled up on the
sand. It was the Maigkdean-vikara. He would let
no one eise on the island touch Sheila's boat Dun-
can, it is tme, was petmitted to keep her masts and
sails and seats sound and white; but as for the de-
corative painting of the small craft including a little
bit of amaleur gilding that was the exclusive right
of Mr. Mackenzie himself. For of course, the old
man said to himself, Sheila was coming back lo Borva
one of these days; and she would be proud to find
her own boat bright and sound. If she and her hus-
band should resolve to spend half the year in Stomo-
way, would not the small craft be of use to her there,
and sure he was that a prettier ttle vessel never
eniered Stomoway bay. Mr. Mackenzie was at this
moment engaged in putting a thin line of green round
the white bulwarks that might have been distinguished
across Loch Roag, so keen and pure was the colotir,
A much heavier boat, broad-beamed, red-huUed,
and brown-saed, was slowly coming round the point
at this raoment. Mr. Mackenzie raised bis eyes from
his work, and knew that Duncan was coming back
from Callernish. Some few minutes ihereafter, tbe
boat was run in to her moorings, and Duncan came
along the beach with a parcel in his hand,
"Here wass your letters, sir," he said. "And tliera
A Ptins'tt (/ ThnU. II, \%
b
178 A PRINCESS OF THtE.
iss one of ihem will be from Miss Shea, if I irass
make no mistake."
He rernained there. Duncan generally knew pretty
well when a tetter from Sheila was among the docu-
nients he hat) to deliver; and, on such an occasion,
he invariably lingered about to hear the news, which
was immediately spread abroad throughoul the Island.
The old King of Borva was not a garrulous man;
but he was glad that the people about him should
know that his Sheila had become a fine lady in ihe
south, and saw fine things, and went among fine
people, Perhaps this notion of his was a sort of
apology to them perhaps it was an apology to
himself for his having let her go away from the
island; but at all events the simple folks about Borva
knew that Miss Sheila, as they still invariably called
her, lived in the same town as the Queen herseif, and
saw many lords and ladies, and was present at great
festivities, as became Mr. Mackenzie's only daughlcr.
And naturally these rumours and stories were es-
aggerated by the kindly intercst and affection of ie
people into something far beyond what Shea's father
intended; insoniuch that many an old crone would
proudly and sagaciously wag her head, and say that
when Miss Sheila came back to Borva strnge things
might be seen, and it would be a proud day for Mr.
Mackenzie if he was to go down to the shore to med
Queen Victoria herseif, and the Princes and Princesses,
and many fine people, all come to stay at bis house
and have great rejoicings in Borva.
Thus it was that Duncan invariably lingered about
when he brought a letter from Sheila; and if her
father happened to forget, or be pre-occupied, Dim-
can would humbly but firmly reroind him. On thir,
"like hadrians and augustus." 179
occasion Mr. Mackenzie put down his pamt-bnish and
took the bndle of letters and newspapers Duncan
had brought him. He selected that from Sheila, and
threw the others on the beach beside him.
There was really no news in the letter. Sheila
merely said that she could not as yet answer her
father's question as to the time she might probably
visit Lewis. She hoped he was well; and that, if she
could not get up to Borva that year, he would come
south to London for a time, when the hard weather
set in in the north. And so forth. But there was some*
thing in the tone of the letter that Struck the old man
as being unusual and strnge. It was very formal in
its phraseology. He read it twice over, very carefully,
and forgot altogether that Duncan was waiting. In-
deed, he was going to tum away, forgetting his work
and the other letters that still lay on the beach, when
he observed that there was a postscript on the other
side of the last page. It merely said "PT/// you
please address your letters now to No. Pembroke Road,
South Kensington ^ where I may he for some time?*'
That was an imprudent postscript. If she had
shown the letter to anyone, she would have been
wamed of the blunder she was committing. But the
child had not much cunning; and wrote and posted
the letter in the belief that her father would simply do as
she asked him, and suspect nothing, and ask no questions.
When old Mackenzie read that postscript, he could
only Stare at the paper before him.
"Will there be anything wrong, sirl*' said the tall
keeper, whose keen grey eyes had been fixed on his
master's face.
The sound ofDuncan's voice startled and recalledMr.
Mackenzie, who immediately tumed, and said, ligjitbf
iSo A PRINCESS OF TKULE.
"Wroogi What wass you thinting would bewrongl
Oh, there is nothing wrong wbatever. But Mairi, she
will be greatly surprised, and she is going to writc no
letters until she comes back to teil you what she has
Seen; that is ihe message Ihere will be for Scarlett
Sheila she is very well."
Duncan picked up tlie other letters and newspapers.
"You may tek them to the house, Duncan," said
Mr. Mackenzie, and then he added, carelessly, "Did
you hear when the steamer was thinking of leavicg
Slornoway this night?"
"They were saying it would be seven o'clock or
six, as there was a great deal of cargo to go on her."
"Six o'clock) Tm thinking, Duncan, I would like
to go with her as far as Oban or Glasgow. Oh yes, I
will go with her as far as Glasgow. Be sharp, Dun-
can, and bring in the boat."
The keeper stared, fearing his master had gonc
mad.
"You wass going with her this feny nightJ"
"Yes. Be sharp, Duncan!" said Mackenzie, doing
his best to conceal his impatience and detertnination
under a careless air.
"Bit, sir, you canna do it," said Duncan, peevishly.
"You hef no things looked out to go. And by the
tirae we would get to Callemish , it wass a feny hard
drive there will be to get to Stornoway by six o'clock;
and there is the mare, sir, she will hef lost a shoe '
Mr. Mackenzie's diplomacy gave way. He tumed
upon the keeper with a sudden fierceness, and with J
stamp of his fool.
" - you, Duncan MacDonald, is it you
or me that is the mastert 1 will go to Slornoway ihii
feny moment if I hef to buy twenty horses!" AwJ
"UKE MADRIANUS AND AUGUSTS. il
there was a light ander the shaggy eyebrows that
wamed Duncan to have done with his remonstrances.
"Oh, ferry well, sir ferry well, sir," he said, going
off to the boat, and gnimbling as he wenl. "If Miss
Sheila wass here, it would be no going away to Glesca
without any ihings wis you, as if you wass a poor
trafFelin tailor that hass nothing in the world but a
needle and a thinible mirover. And what will the
people in Styomoway hef to say, and sa captain of sa
steamboat; and Scarlett I will hef no peace from
Scarlett if you wass going away like this. And as for
sa sweerin, it is no use sa sweerin, for I will get sa
boat ready oh yes , I will get the boat ready but I
do not understand why I will get sa boat ready."
By this time, indeed, he had got along to ihe
larger boat, and his grumblings were inaudible to the
object of them. Mr. Mackenzie went to the small
landing-place, and wailed. When he got into the
boat, and sat down in the stern, taking the tilkr in
his right hand, he still held Sheila's letter in the other
hand, although he did not need to re-read it.
They sailed out into the blue waters of the loch,
and rounded the point of the island, tn absolute
sence, Duncan meanwhile being both sulkj and
ctirious. He could not make out why his tnaster
sbould so suddenly leave Ihe island, without infonntng
anyone, without even taking with him that tall and
ronghly-furred black hat which he ordinarily wore on
important occasions. Yet there was a letter in his
hand; and it was a letter from Miss Sheila. Was the
news about Mairi the only news in itl
Duncan kept looking ahead to see that the boat
steering her righi course for the Narrows, and
anxiouG, QDw that he had started, to make the
l82 A PRINCESS OF THDIf.
voyage io the kst possible time; but a the samc h
eyes would come back Io Mr. Mackenzie, who sac
very much absotbed, steeriog almost mechanically,
seldom tooking ahead, but insdactively guessing his
course by ihe outlines of the shore close by,
"Wass there any bad news, sir, from Miss Sheilal"
he was compeUed to say at last.
"Miss Sheilal" said Mr. Mackenzie, impatioitly.
"Is it an infant you are, that you will call a married
wonian by such a namel"
Duncan had never been checked before for a habit
which was common to the whole island of Eorva,
"There iss no bad news," continued Mackenzie,
impatientiy. "Is it a story you would like to tek back
to the people of Borvabosti"
"It was no thought of such a thing wass come into
my head, sir," said Duncan. "There is no one in sa
island would like to carry bad news about Miss Sheik]
and there iss no one in sa island would like to hear
it not anyone whatever; and I can answer for that."
"Then hold your tongue about it-^there is no bad
news from Sheila," said Mackenzie; and Duncan re-
lapsed into silence, not very well content
Bf dint of very hard drivlng indeed Mr. Mackenzie
just caught the boat as she was leaving Stomoway
harbour; the hurry he was in fortunately saving him
from the curiosity and inquiries of the people he kce*
on the picr. As for the frank and good-natured cap-
tain, he did not show that excessive interest in Mr.
Matitenzie's affairs that Duncan had feared; but when
the steamer was well away from the coast, and bear-
ing down on her route to Skye, he came and had *
Chat with the King of Eorva about tlie conditton of
affairs on the west of tlie island, and he was good
"like hadrianus and augusts.'* 183
enough to ask, too, about the young lady who had
married the English gentleman. Mr. Mackenzie said
briefly that she was very well; and retumed to the
subject of the fishing.
It was on a wet and dreary moming that Mr. Mac-
kenzie arrived in London; and as he was slowly driven
through the long and dismal thoroughfares, with their
grey and melancholy houses, their passers-by under
umbrellas, and their smoke, and drizzle, and dirt, he
could not help saying to himself, "My poor Sheila!"
It was not a pleasant place surely to live in always,
although it might be all very well for a visit. Indeed,
this cheerless day added to the gloomy forebodings in
his mind; and it needed all his resolve, and his pride
in his own diplomacy, to carry out his plan of ap-
proaching Sheila.
When he got to Pembroke Road, he stopped the
cab at the comer, and paid the man. Then he walked
along the thoroughfare, having a look at the houses.
At length he came to the number mentioned in Sheila's
letter, and he found that there was a brass plate on
the door bearing an unfamiliar name. His suspicions
were confirmed. He went up the Steps and knocked;
a small girl answered the summons.
"Is Mrs. Lavender living herel" he said.
She looked for a moment with some surprise at
the Short, thick-set man, with his sailor costume, his
peaked cap, and his great grey beard and shaggy eye-
brows; and then she said that she would ask, and what
was his name? But Mr. Mackenzie was too sharp not
to know what that meant
"I am her father. It will do ferry well if you will
show me the room."
And he stepped inside. The small girl obediently
shut the door, and then led the way upstairs. The
next minute Mr. Mackenzie had entered the room,
and there, before him, was Sheila, bending overMairi,
and leaching her how to do some fancy-work.
The girl looked up, on hearmg some one enter,
and ihen, when she suddenly saw her father there, she
uttered a slight cry of alarm, and shrunk back. If he
had been less intent on his own plans, he would have
been amazed and pained by this action on the pait
of his daughter, who used lo run to him, on great oc-
casions and small, whenever she saw him; but the girl
had for the last few days been so habitually schooling
herseif into the notion that she was keeping a secret
from him^she had become so deeply conscious of
the concealment intended in that brief letter that she
instinctively shrank from him when he sudden]y ap-
peared. It was but for a moment. Mr. Mackenzie came
forward, with a fine assumption of carelessness, and
shook hands with Sheila and with Mairi, and said
"How do yoti do, Mairil And are you ferry well,
Sheilal And you will not expect me this moming;
biit when a man will not pay you what he wass ow-
ing, it was no good letting il go on in that way, aod
I hef come to London "
He shook the rain-drops from his cap, and was 3
little embarrassed.
"Ves, I hef coroe to London to have an accouni
settled up; for it wass no good lettiog the man go on
for effer and effer. Ay, and how are you, Sheiiar'
He glanced about the room he would not lock
at her. She stood there, unable to speak, and with
her face grown wild and pale.
"Ay, it wass raining hard all the last night, aod
there was a good deal of water came into the carriage;
''LIKE HADRIANUS AND AUGUSTUS." 185
and it is a ferry hard bed you will make of a third-
class carriage. Ay, it wass so. And this is a new house
you will hef, Sheila "
She had been coming nearer to him, with her face
down, and the speechless Ups trembling. And then
suddenly, with a strnge sob, she threw herseif into
his arms, and hid her head, and burst into a wild fit
of crying.
"Sheila," he said, "what ails youl What iss all
the matterl"
Mairi had covery got out of the room.
"Oh, papa, I have left him," the girl cried.
"Ay," said her father, quite cheerfuUy, "oh ay, I
thought there was some little thing wrong when your
letter wass come to us the other day. But it is no
use making a great deal of trouble about it, Sheila;
for it is easy to have all those things put right again
oh yes, ferry easy. And you hef left your own
home, Sheilal And where is Mr. Lavender?"
"Oh, papa," she cried, "you must not try to see
him. You must promise not to go to see him. I
should have told you everything when I wrote, but I
thought you would come up, and blame it all on him,
and I think it is I who am to blame "
"But I do not want to blame anyone," said her
father. "You must not make so much of these things,
Sheila. It is a pity yes, it is a ferry great pity your
husband and you will hef a quarrel; but it iss no un-
common thing for these troubles to happen; and I am
Coming to you this moming, not to make any more
trouble, but to see if it cannot be put right again. And I
do not want to know any more than that; and I will not
blame anyone ; but if I wass to see Mr. Lavender "
A bitter anger had filled his heart from the moment
lS6 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
be had learaed bow malters stood; and yet he was
talking in such a bUnd, mattei-of-fact, aJroost cheer-
ful fashioD, that his own daughter was imposed upon,
and b^an to grow comfoned. Tfae mere fact that het
^ther now kaew of all ber troubles, and was not dis-
posed to take a very gloomy \-iew of them. was of it-
sdf a great relief to her. And she was greatly pleased,
loo, lo bear her father talk in the same light and even
frienty fashioa of her husband. She had dreaded
the possible resolcs of her writing home and relatiog
wfaat had ocmired. She knew the powerful passion of
whicfa this londy t^d man was capable; and if he had
come mddenly down south , with a wild desire to re-
veoge the wioi^ of his daughter, what might not have
happenedt
Sbeila sat down, and with averted eyes told ber
father the whole story, ingenuously making all possible
excuses for her husband, and intimating atrongly that
the more she looked over the hislory of the past time,
the more she was com-inced that she was herseif to
blame. It was but naturat ihat Mr. Lavender should
Ukc to live in the manner to which he had been ac-
cuKtomed. She had Iried to live that way, too; and
the failure to do so was sureiy her fault He had
bccn vcry kind to her. He was always buying her ne*
(Ircnses, jewellery, and what not; and was always
plcaHcd to take her to be amused anywhere. All this
aha Haid, and a great deal more; and although Mr.
MuckcDxie did not believe the half of it, he did not
OHf HO,
"Ay, ny, Sheila," he said, cheerfully, "but if eveiy-
ihilllS wa riglii like that, what for will you be herel'
" Hill vcryiliing was not right, papa," the girl st,
fi\\\\ tiHU hvt cyoi i;ast down. "I could not live anjr
1
"like hadrians and augustus." 187
longer like that; and I had to come away. That is my
fault; and I could not help it And there was a a
misunderstanding between us about Mairi's visit for
I had Said nothing about it and he was surprised
and he had some friends Coming to see us that
day "
"Oh, well, there iss no great hrm done none at
all," Said her father lightly, and perhaps beginning to
think that after all something was to be said on La-
vender's side of the question. "And you will not sup-
pose, Sheila, that I am Coming to make any trouble
by quarrelling with anyone. There are some men
oh yes, there are ferry many that would hef no judg-
ment at such a time, and they would think only about
their daughter, and hef no regard for anyone eise, and
they would only make efFery one angrier than before.
But you will teil me, Sheila, where Mr. Lavender is *'
"I do not know," she said. "And I am anxious,
papa, you should not go to see him. I have asked
you to promise that to please me."
He hesitated. There were not many things he
could refuse his daughter; but he was not sure he
ought to yield to her in this. For were not these
two a couple of foolish young things, who wanted an
experienced, and cool, and shrewd person to come
with a little dexterous management and arrange their
afifairs for them?
"I do not think I have half explained the diflference
between us," said Sheila, in the same low voice. "It
is no passing quarrel to be mended up and for-
gotten it is nothing like that You must leave it
alone, papa."
"That is foolishness, Sheila," said the old man,
with a little impatience. "You are making big things
l88 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
out of ferry little; and you will only bring trou?
yoiirself. How do you know but that he wishes to
hef all this in i su n d erstand in g reraoved, and hef you go
back lo hiraJ"
"I know that he wiahes that," she said, calmly.
"And you speak as if you wass in great trouble
here, and yet you will not go backi" he said, in great
surprise.
"Yes, that is so," she said. "There is no use in
rny going back to the same sort of life: it was not
happiness for either of us^and to me it was niiseiy.
If I am to blame for it, that is only a misfortune."
"But if you will not go back to him, Sheila," her
father said, "at least you will go back with me to
"I cannot do that either," said the girl, with the
same quiet yet decisive manner.
Mr. Mackenzie rose, with an impatient gesture, and
walked to the window. He did not know what to say,
He was very well aware that when Sheila had resolved
upon anything, she had thought it well over before-
hand, and was not likely to cbange her mind. And
yet the notion of his daughter living in lodgings in a
Strange lown her only companion a young girl who
had never been in the place before was vexatiously
absurd.
"Sheila," he Said, "you will come to a betler under-
standlng about that I suppose you wass afraid the
people would wonder at your coming back alone.
But they will know nothing about it. Mairi she is it
ferry good lass; she will do anything you will ask of
her; you hef no need to think she will carry stories.
And everyone wass thinking you will be coming to the
Lewis this year, and it is ferry glad they will be to
i
"LIKE H-^DRUNUS AND AUGUSTUS. 189
you; and if the house at Borvabost has not enough
amusetnent for you, after you hef been in a big town
like this, you will live in Stomoway with some of our
friends there, and you will come over to Borva when
you please."
"If I wem up to the Lewis," said Sheila, "do you
think I could live anywhere but in Borva! It is not
any amusements I will be ihinking about. But I can-
not go back to the Lewis alone."
Her father saw howthe pride of the girl had driven
her to this decision; and saw, too, liow useless it was for
him to reason with her just at the presenl moment
Still there was plenty of occasion here for the use of
a little diplomacy, merely to smooth the way for the recon-
ciliation of husband and wife; and Mr. Mackenzie con-
cluded in his own niind that it was far from injudicious
to allow Sheila to convioce herseif that she bore part
of the blame of this Separation. For example, he now
proposed that the discussion of the whole question
should be postponed for the preaent; and that Sheila
should take him about London and show him all that
she had learned; and he suggested that they should
tlien and there get a hansom cab and drive to some
exhibition or other.
"A hansom, papal" said Sheila. "Mairi must go
with US, you know."
This was precisely what he had angied for; and he
said, with a show of impatience
"Mairi; how can we take about Mairi to every
placel Mairi is a ferry good lass oh, yes^but she
is a servant-Iass."
The words nearly stuck in his throat; and, indeed,
1 any other addressed such a phrase to one of
L bis itith and kin there would taave been an explosioa
190 A nuMcess or thule.
of n^; bnt oo* he was dcteraiined to show to Shea
tluU bcr bnsband had some cause for objecting to this
pil sitdi^ dowD with his friends.
Bat neither hnsband nor father could make Sheila
forswear allegiancc lo what her own heart told her
was just, and honourable, and geserotis; asd indecd
her father at this moment was not displeased to see her
turn round on hiniself, with just a touch of indignation
"Main is my guest, papa," she said. "It is not
like you to think of leaving her at home."
"Oh. itwassofnoconsequence," said old Mackenzic,
carelessly indeed he m-as not sorrj* to have met with
this rebuff. "Mairi is a feny good giil oh, yes but
there are many who would not forget she is a servanl-
lass, and would not like to be always taking her with
them. And you hef lived a long tinie in London "
"I have not lived long enough in London to make
me forget my friends, or insult them," Sheila said, wilh
proudlips, andyet tumingto thewindowto hide her face.
"My lass, I did not mean any hrm whatever,"
her father said, gently; "I was saying nolhing against
Mairi. Go away and bring her into ihe room, Sheila;
and we will see what we can do now, and if there is
a theatre we can go to this evening. And I must go
out, too, to buy some things; for you are a feny fine
lady now, Sheila, and I was Coming away in such a
" Where is your luggage, papal" she said, suddenly.
"Oh, luggagel" said Mackenzie, Jooking round in
great embarrassment. "It wass luggage you said.
Sheilai Ay, well, it wass a hurry I wass in vhen I
came away for this man he will hef to pay ine at
once whatever and there was no timc for any luggage
"like hadrians and augstus." igt
oh no, there was no time, because Duncan he wass
late with the boat, and the mare she had a shoe to
put on and and oh no, there wass no time for any
luggage."
"But what was Scarlett about, to let you come
away like that?" Sheila said.
"Scarlett? Well, Scarlett did not know it was
all in such a hurry. Now go and bring in Mairi, Sheila;
and we will speak about the theatre."
But there was to be no theatre for any of them
that evening. Sheila was just about to leave the room
to summon Mairi, when the small girl who had let
Mackenzie into the house appeared and said
"Please m'm, there is a young woman below who
wishes to see you. She has a message to you from
Mrs. Paterson."
"Mrs. Patersoni" Sheila said, wondering how Mrs.
Lavender's henchwoman should have been entrusted
with any such commission. "Will you ask her to
come upl"
The girl came up stairs, looking rather frightened,
and much out of breath.
"Please m'm, Mrs. Paterson has sent me to teil
you, and would you please come as soon as it is con-
venient Mrs. Lavender has died. It was quite sud-
den only she recovered a little after the fit, and then
sank; the doctor is there now; but he wasn't in time,
it was all so sudden. Will you please come round, m'ml"
Yes I shall be there directly," said Sheila, too
bewildered and stunned to think of the possibility of
meeting her husband there.
The girl left; and Sheila still stood in the middle
of the room apparently stupefied. That old woman
had got into such a habit of talking about her ^.^-
igZ A PRINCESS OF THULE.
proaching death that Sheila had ceased to believe her,
and had grown to fancy that th^se morbid speculaiions
were indulged in chiefly for the sake of shocking by-
standers. But a dead man or a dead woman is sud-
denly invested with a great solemnity; and Sheila, wilh
a pang of remorse, thought of the fashion in which
she had suspected this old woman of a godless hypo-
crisy. She feit, too, that she had unjustly disliked Mrs.
Lavender that she had feared to go near her, and
blamed her unfairly for many things that Iiad happened.
In her own way that old woman in Kensington Gore
had been kind to her; perhaps the girl was a Utile
ashamed of herseif at this moment that she did not ciy.
Her father went out with her and up lo the house
with the dusty ivy and the red curtains, How strangely
like was the aspect of the house inside to the vciy
picture that Mrs. Lavender had herseif drawn of her
death. Sheila could reraember all the ghastly details
that the old woman seemed to have a malicious de-
light in describing, and here they were the shutters
drawn down, the servants Walking about on tiptoe, the
Strange silence in one particular room. The litlle
shrivelled old body lay quite still and calm now; and ,
yet as Slieila went to the bedside, she could hardlyi
believe that within that forehead there was not sonie '
consciousness of the scene around. Lying alinost in
the same position the old woman, with a sardonic
smile on her face, had spoken of the time when she
should be speechless, sightless, and deaf, while Patei-
son would go about stealthy as if she was afraid the
corpse would hear. Was it possible to believe that ihe
dead body was not conscious at this rnoment that
Paterson was really going about in that fashion ihil
the blinds were down, friends standing some little
"like hadrianus and augustus." 193
distance from the bed, a couple of doctors talking to
each other in the passage outside?
They went into another room, and then Sheila,
with a sudden shiver, remembered that soon her hus-
band would be coming, and might meet her and her
father there.
" You have sent for Mr. Lavenderl" she said, calmly,
to Mrs. Paterson.
"No, ma'am," Paterson said, with more than her
ordinary gravity and formality. "I did not know where
to send for him. . He left London some days ago.
Perhaps you would read the letter, ma'am."
She ofFered Sheila an open letter. The girl saw
that it was in her husband's handwriting; but she
shrank from it as though she were violating the secrets
of the grave.
"Oh no," she said, "I cannot do that"
"Mrs. Lavender, ma'am, meant you to read it, after
she had had her will altered. She told me so. It is
a very sad thing, ma'am, that she did not live to carry
out her intentions; for she has been inquiring, ma'am,
these last few days as to how she could leave every-
thing to you, ma'am, which she intended, and now the
other will "
"Oh, don't talk about that!" said Sheila. It seemed
to her that the dead body in the other room would be
laughing hideously, if only it could, at this fullment
of all the sardonic prophecies that Mrs. Lavender used
to make.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," Paterson said, in the
same formal way, as if she were a machine set to work
in a particular direction, "I only mentioned the will
to explain why Mrs. Lavender wished you to read
this letter."
A Princess 0/ TkuU, //, 1*^
194 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
"Read the letter, Sheila," said her father.
The girl took it and carried it to the window.
While she was there, old Mackenzie, who had fewer
scruples about such matters, and who had the curiosity
natural to a man of the world, said to Mrs. Paterson
not loud enough for Sheila to overhear
"I suppose, then, the poor old lady has left her
property to her nephew?"
"Oh no, sir," said Mrs. Paterson, somewhat sadly,
for she fancied she was the bearer of bad news. "She
had a will drawn out only a short time ago, and
nearly everything is left to Mr. Ingram."
"To Mr. Ingram]"
"Yes," said the woman, amazed to see that Mac-
kenzie's face, so far from evincing displeasure, seemed
to be as delighted as it was surprised.
"Yes, sir," said Mrs. Paterson, "I was one of the
witnesses. But Mrs. Lavender changed her mind; and
was very anxious that everything should go to your
daughter, if it could be done, and Mr. Appleyard, sir,
was to come here to-morrow forenoon."
"And has Mr. Lavender got no money whatever?"
said Sheila's father, with an air that convinced Mrs.
Paterson that he was a revengeful man, and was glad
that his son-in-law should be so severely punished.
"I don't know, sir," she replied, careful not to go
beyond her own sphere.
Sheila came back from the window. She had
taken a long time to read and ponder over that letter;
though it was not a lengthy one. This was what
Frank Lavender had written to his aunt: "My dear
Aunt Lavender, I suppose when you read this you
will think I am in a bad temper because of what you
said to me. It is not so. But I am leaving London;
"like hadrianus and AUGUSTUS." 195
and I wish to band over to you before I go the
Charge of my house, and to ask you to take posses-
sion of everything in it that does not belong to Sheila.
These things are yours, as you know; and I have to
thank you very much for the loan of them. I have
to thank you for the far too liberal allowance you
have made me for many years back. . Will you think
I have gone mad if I ask you to stop that now] The
fact is, I am going to have a try at eaming some-
thing, for the fun of the thing; and, to make the ex-
periment satisfactory, I start to-morrow moming for a
district in the West Highlands, where the most in-
genious fellow I know couldn't get a penny-loaf on
credit. You have been very good to me, Aunt La-
vender; I wish I had made a better use of your kind-
ness. So good-bye just now, and if ever I come back
to London again I shall call on you and thank you
in person.
"I am, your affectionate nephew,
"Frank Lavender."
So far the letter was almost business-like. There
was no reference to the causes which were sending
him away from London, and which had already driven
him to this extraordinary resolution about the money
he got from his aunt. But at the end of the letter
there was a brief postscript, apparently written at the
last moment, the words of which were these:
*^Be kind to Sheila. Be as kind to her as I have
been cruel to her. In going away from her I feel as
ihough I were exiled hy man and for sahen hy God. '*
She came back from the window with the letter in
her band.
r
196 A raiNCESS OF TIIULE.
"I thinle you inay read it, too, Papa," she said; for
siie was ansioiis thal her father should know that
Lavender had voluntarily surrerdered ihis money be-
fore he was deprived of it Then she went back to
the window.
The slow rain feil from ihe dismal skies, on ihe
pavement and the railings, and the now almost leaf-
less trees. The atniosphere was fiUed with a thin
white mist, and the people going by were hidden
under umbrellas. It was a dreary picture enough; and
yet Sheila was thinking of how inuch drearier such a
day would be on some lonely coast in the north, wilh
the hls obscured behirrd the rain, and the sea beat-
ing hopelessly on Ihe sand. She thought of some
small and damp Highland cottage, with narrow Win-
dows, a smell of wet wood about, and the roonotonous
drip from over the door. And it seemed to her that
a stranger there would be very lonely, not knowing
the ways or the speech of the simple folk, careless
perhaps of his own comfort , and only listening ti
plashing of the sea and the incessant rain on the
bushes and on the pebbles of the beach. Was there
any picture of desolation, she thought, like thatofs
sea under rain, with a sllght fog obscuring the air,
and with no wind to stir the pulse with the noise ol
wavesl And if Frank Lavender had only gone a
as the Western Highlands, and was living in some
house on the coast, how sad and still the Atlantic
must have been all this wet forenoon, with the islands
of Colonsay and Oronsay lying remote, and grcy, and
misty in the far and desolate piain of the sea.
"It wil! take a great deal of responsibility ffoni
nie, sir," Mrs. Paterson said to old Mackeniie, who
was absently thinking of all the strnge possibilitiei
"like hadrians and agustus." 197
now opening out before him, "if you will teil me what
is to be done. Mrs. Lavender had no relatives in
London, except her nephew."
"Oh yes," said Mackenzie, waking up; "oh yes;
we will see what is to be done. There will be the
boat wanted for the funeral "
He recalled himself with an impatient gesture.
"Bless me," he said, "what was I saying? You
must ask some one eise you must ask Mr. Ingram.
Hef you not sent for Mr. Ingram 1"
"Oh yes, sir, I have sent to him; and he will most
likely come in the afternoon."
"Then there are the executors mentioned in the
will that wass something you should know about;
and they will teil you what to do. As for me, it is
ferry little I will know about such things."
"Perhaps your daughter, sir," suggested Mrs. Pater-
son, "would teil me what she thinks should be done
with the rooms And as for luncheon, sir, if you
would wait "
"Oh, my daughter?" said Mr. Mackenzie, as if
Struck by a new idea, but determined all the same
that Sheila should not have this new responsibility
thrust on her. "My daughter? well, you wass saying,
mem, that my daughter would help you? Oh yes,
but she is a ferry young thing, and you wass saying
we must hef luncheon? Oh yes, but we will not give
you so much trouble, and we hef luncheon ordered at
the other house whatever; and there is the young girl
there that we cannot leave all by herseif. And you
hef a great experience, mem, and whatever you do,
that will be right; do not have any fear of that And
I will come round when you want me oh yes, I will
come round at any time; but my daughter, she is a
r
ferry young thing, and she would be of co use to you
whatever -DOne whatever. And when Mr. Ingrai
comes you will send him round lo the place where
my daugMer is, for we will want to see him, if he
hass the time to come. But where is Sheilal"
Sheila had quietly left the room and stolen into
the silent Chamber in which Ibe dead woman lay.
They found her Standing close by the bedside, almosi
in a trance.
"Sheila," said her father, taking ber band, "cotne
away now, like a good girL It is no iise your waiting
here; and Mairi what will Mairi be doingl"
She scRered herseif to be led away; and they went
home and had luncheon, but the girl could not eal
for the notion that somewhere or other a pair of eyes
were looking at her, and were hideously laughtng at
her, as if to remind her of ihe propbecy of that old
woman, that her friends would sit down to a co-
fortable meal and begin to wonder what sort of
mouming they would have.
It was not until the evening that Ingram cailed.
He had been greatly surprised to hear from Mis.
Palerson that Mr. Mackenzie had been there, alotig
with his daughtet; and he now expected to find Ihe
old King of Borva in a lowerirg passion. He found
him, on the contraiy, as bland and as pleased as de-
ccncy would admit of in view of the tragedy that had
nrcurred in the morning; and, indeed, as Mackenxie
luul ncvcr seen Mrs. Lavender, there was less reasan
wby he should wear the outward semblance of griet
Mlii'ilii' fallier asked her to go out of the room for
IIIIIp whilc; .Tnd when she and Mairi had gone, he
" Wril, Mi.lnuiani.and it is aridi man you are at last."
"like hadrianus and augstus." 199
"Mrs. Paterson said she had told you," Ingram
Said, with a shrug. "You never expected to find me
rieh, did youl"
"Never," said Mackenzie, frankly. "But it is a
ferry good thing oh yes, it is a ferry good thing to
hef money and be independent of people. And you
will make a good use of it, I know."
"You don't seem disposed, sir, to regret that La-
vender has been robbed of what should have be-
longed to him?"
**0h, not at all," said Mackenzie, gravely and
cautiously, for he did not want his plans to be dis-
played prematurely. "But I hef no quarrel with him;
so you will not think I am glad to hef the money
taken away for that. Oh no; I hef seen a great many
men and women; and it wass no strnge thing that
these two young ones living all by themselves in Lon-
don, should hef a quarrel. But it will come all right
again if we do not make too much about it. If they
like one another, they will soon come together again,
tek my word for it, Mr. Ingram; and I hef seen a
great many men and women. And as for the money
well, as for the money, I hef plenty for my Sheila,
and she will not starve when I die, no, nor before
that either; and as for the poor old woman that has
died, I am ferry glad she left her money to one that
will make a good use of it, and will not throw it
away whatever."
"Oh, but you know, Mr. Mackenzie, you are con-
gratulating me without cause. I must teil you how
the matter Stands. The money does not belong to
me at all Mrs. Lavender never intended it should.
It was meant to go to Sheila "
"Ob, I kDow, I know," said Mr. "MLackftTviAfc, "Sfi. ^.
ZOO A PRtNCESS OF TBULE.
wave of his band. "I wass Hearing all that from ihe
woman at the house. But how will you know whal
Mrs. Lavender inlended^ Vou hef only that woman's
Story of iL And hete is the will, and you hef ihe
money, and and "
Mackenzie hesitated for a moraent; and then said
with a sudden vehemence
" and, by Kott, you shall keep itl"
Ingram was a trifle starded.
"But look here, sir," he said, in a tone of expos-
lulation, "you make a mistake. I myself know Mrs,
Lavender's intentions. I don't go by any story of Mrs.
Paterson's. Mrs. Lavender made over the money to nie
with express injunctions to place it at the disposal of
Sheiia whenever I should see fit. Oh, therc's no mis-
take about it, so you need not protest, sir. If the
money belonged to me, I should be delighted to keep
it. No man in the country more desires to be rieh
than I; so don't fancy I am flinging away a fortune
out of generosity. If any rieh and kind-hearted old
lady will send me ^5,000 or iO,Ooo, you will see
how I shall stick to it. But the simple truth is, this
money is not roine at all. It was never intended to be
mine. It belongs to Sheiia,"
Ingram talked in a very matter-of-fact way; the old
man feared what he said was true.
"Ay, it is a ferry good story," said Mackenzie,
cautiously, "and raay be it is all true. And you was
saying you would like to hef money!"
"I most decidedly should like to have money."
"Well, then," said the old man, watching his
friend's face, "there iss no one to say that the stoiy i
true; and who will believe itl And if Sheiia wass to
come to you and say she did not believe it, and slie
^LIKE HADRIANS AND AUGUSTUS." 20t
would not hef the money from you, you would hef to
keep it, eh?"
Ingram's sallow face blushed crimson.
"I don't know what you mean," he said, stiffly.
**Do you propose to pervert the girPs mind, andmake
me a party to a fraud?"
"Oh, there is no use getting into an anger," said
Mackenzie, suavely, "when common sense will do as
well whatever. And there wass no perversion, and
there wass no fraud talked about. It wass just this,
Mr. Ingram, that if the old lad/s will leaves you her
property, who will you be getting to believe that she
did not mean to give it to you?"
"I teil you now whom she meant to give it to,"
Said Ingram, still somewhat hotly.
"Oh yes, oh yes, that is ferry well. But who will
believe it?"
"Good heavens, sir, who will believe Icould be such
a fool as to fling away this property if it belonged to mel "
"They will think you a fool to do it now yes,
that is sure enough," said Mackenzie.
"I don't care what they think. And it seems rather
odd, Mr. Mackenzie, that you should be trying to de-
prive your own daughter of what belongs to her."
"Oh, my daughter is ferry well off whatever she
does not want anyone's money," said Mackenzie; and
then a new notion Struck him. "Will you teil me this,
Mr. Ingram? KMrs. Lavender left you her property in
this way, what for did she want to change her will, eh?"
"Well, to teil you the truth, I refused to take the
responsibility. She was anxious to have this money
given to Sheila so that Lavender should not touch it
and I don't think it was a wise intention, for there
is not a prouder man in the world than Lavender^ and
302 A PRWCESS OF THUI.E.
I kiiow that Sheila would not consent to hold a penny
ihat did not equally bdong to iiim. However, that
was her notion; and I was the first victim of iL I pto-
tested against it; and I suppose that set her to inquir-
ing whether the money could not be absolutely be-
queathed to Sheila direct. I don't know anything
about ic mysetfj biit tbat's how the matter Stands as
far as I'm concemed."
"But yoii will think. it over, Mr. Ingram," said
Mackenzie quietly; "you will think it over and be in
no hurry. It is not every man that hass a lot of money
given to him. And it is no wrong to my Sheila at all:
for she will hef quite plenty; and she would be feny
sony to lake the money away from you, that is sure
enough; and you will not be hasty, Mr. Ingram, butbe
caurious and reasonable, and you will see the money will
do you far more good than it would do to my Sheila."
Ingram began to think that he had tied a miUsione
round his neck.
CHAPTER IX.
In Eiile.
One evening, in the olden tirae, luvender and
Sheila and Ingram and old Mackenzie were all sitting
high up on the rocks near Borvabost, chalting to each
other, and watching the red light pale on the bosoni
of the Adantic as the sun sank behind the edge of ihe
World. Ingram was smoking a wooden pipe. Lavender
sat with Sheila's hand in his. The old King of Borva
was discoursing of the fishing populations round the
westera coasts, and of their various ways and habits.
"I wish I could have seen Tarbert," Lavender was
saying, "but Ihe Jona just passes the niouth crf tiw
ttle harbour as ahe comes up Loch Fyne. 1 Icnow'
IN EXILE. 203
two or tliree men who go there every year to paint the
iishing life of the place. It is an odd little place, isn*t it?"
"Tarbert?" said Mr. Mackenzie; "you wass want-
ing to know about Tarbert ? Ah, well, it is getting to
be a better place now, but a year or two ago it wass
ferry like hell. Oh, yes, it wass, Sheila, so you need
not say anything. And this wass the way of it, Mr.
Lavender, that the trawling was not made legal then,
and the men they were just like teffles, with the swear-
ing, and the drinking, and the fighting that went on;
and if you went into the harbour in the open day,
you would find them drunk, and fighting, and some of
them with blood on their face^, for it wass a ferry
wild time. It wass many a one will say that the Tar-
bert men would run down the police-boat some dark
night And what wass the use of catching the trawlers
now and again, and taking their boats and their nets
to be sold at Greenock, when they would go them-
selves over to Greenock, to the auction, and buy them
back? Oh, it wass a great deal of money they made
then I hef heard of a crew of eight men getting ^^30
each man in the course of one night, and that not sel-
dom mirover."
"But why didn't the Government put it downl"
Lavender asked.
"Well, you see," Mackenzie answered, with the air
of a man well acquainted with the difficulties of rul-
ing; "you see that it wass not quite sure that the
trawling did much hrm to the fishing. And ihejackal
that wass the Government steamer she wass not
much good in getting the better of the Tarbert men,
who are ferry good with their boats in the rowing,
and are ferry cunning whatever. For the buying boats
they would go out to sea, and take tlie herring there.
204 A PBINCESS OF THULE,
and Ihen Ihe trawlers they would sink their nels and
come home in ihe moming as if they had not caught
one fish, although Ihe boat would be white with ihe
scales of the herring. And what is more, sir, ihe
Government knew feiry well that if trawling wass
jiut down then, there would be a ferry good many
tnurders; for the Tarbert men, when they came home
to drink wliisky, and wash the whisky down with
porter, they were ready to fight anybody."
"It must be a delightful place to live in," Luven-
der Said.
"Oh, but it is feny different now," Mackenzie con-
tinued, "ferry different. The rnen they are nearly all
Good Templars now, and there is no drinking what-
ever, and there is reading-rooms and such things, and
the place is ferry quiet and respectable."
"1 hear," Ingram reoiarked, "that good people at-
tiibule the cliange to moral suasion, and that wicked
people put it down to want of money,"
"Papa, this boy will liave to be put to bed,"
Sheila said.
"Well," Mackenzie answered, "there isnot so much
money in the place as there wass in the old timcs.
The shopkeepers do not make so much money as be-
fore, when Ihe men were wild and drunk in the day-
time, and had plenty to spend when the police-boat
did not catch theni. But the fishermen they are feny
much better without the money; and I can say for
them, Mr. Lavender, that there is no better fishermen
on the coast. They are ferry fine, tall men; and they
are ferry well dressed in their blue clothes; and they
are manly fellows, whether they are drunk or whelher
they are sober. Now look at this, sir, that in theworsl of
weather they will neffer teJt whisky with them when they
i
IN EXILE. 205
go out to tte sea at night, for they think it is cowardly.
And they are feiry fine feliows and gentlemanly in their
ways, and they are ferry good-natured to strangers."
"I have heard that of them on aU hands," Laven-
der Said, "and some day I hope to put their civility
and good fellowship to the proof."
That was merely the idle conversation of a summei
evening; no one paid any further attention to it, nor
did even Lavender himself think again of his vaguely-
expressed hope of some day visiting Tarbert. Let us
now shift the scene of this narrative to Tarbert itself.
When you pass from the broad and blue waters
of Loch Fyne into the narrow and rocky Channel !ead-
ing to Tarbert harbour, you find before you an almost
circular bay, round which Stretches an irregulr Une
of white houses. There is an abundaoce of fishing-
craft in the harbour, lying in careless and picturesque
groups, with their brown hulls and spars sending a
ruddy reflection down on the lapping water, which is
green under the shadow of each boat. Along the
shore stand the tall poles on which the fishermen dry
their nets; and above these, on the summit of a rocky
crag, rise the ruins of an old castJe, with the daylight
shining through the empty Windows. Beyond the houses,
again, lie successive lines of hls, at this moment lic up
by shafts of sunlight that lend a glowing warmth and
richness to the fine colours of a late autunin. The
hls are red and brown with rusted bracken and heather;
and here and there the smooth waters of the bay calcli
a linge of Iheir varied hues. In one of the fishin-
smacks that lie almost undemeath the shadow of thi;
lall crag on which ihe castle ruins stand, an artist has
t up a rough-and-ready easel, and is appareny busy
t worlt painiing a group of boats just beyond. Some
206 A PRi:CES5 OF TUULE.
indication of the rieh coloors of the craft their niddj
sails, brown nets and bladders, and tlieir vamished but
not painted huUs already appears on the canvas; aiid
by and by sorae vision inay aiise of the far hls in
their soft autumnal lints and of the bold blue and
white sky moving overhead. Perhaps the old man
who is Smoking in the stem of one of the boats has
been placed there on purpose. A boy seated on
some nets occasionally casts an anxious glance towards
the painter, as if to inquire when his penance will be
over.
A small open boat, with a heap of stones for ballast,
and with no great elegance in shape of rigging, comea
slowly in from the mouth of the harbour, and is getly
run aJongside the boat in which the man is paJnting. A
fresh-coloured young fellow, with plenty of curly brown
hair, whohasdressedhimselfasayachtsman, callsout
"Lavender, do yoii fcnow the White Rose, a b^
schooner yacht, about eighty tons I should thinkl"
"Yes," Lavender said, without tuming round or
taking his eyes olT the canvas.
"Whose is shel"
"Lord Newstead's."
"Well, either he or his skipper hailed mc just now
and wanted lo know whether yoii were here. I said
you were, The fellow asked me if I was going into
tlie harbour. I said I was. So he gave me a message
for you; that they would hang about outside for half
an hour or so, if you would go out to them, and take
a run up to Ardishaig."
"I can't, Johnny."
"I'd take you out, you know."
"I don't want to go."
"But look here, Lavender," said the younger man .
IN EXILE. 207
seizing hold of Lavender's boat, and causing the easel
to shake dangerously; "he asked me to luncheon, too."
"Why don't you go, then?" was the only reply,
uttered rather absently.
"I can*t go without you."
"Well, I don't mean to go."
The younger man looked vexed for a moment, and
then Said, in a tone of expostulation
" You know it is very absurd of you going on like
this, Lavender. No fellow can paint decently if he
gets out of bed in the middle of the night and waits
for daylight to rush up to his easel. How many hours
have you been at work already to-day] If you don't
give your eyes a rest, they will get colour-blind to a
dead certainty. Do you think you will paint the whole
place off the face of the earth, now that the other
fellows have gone?"
"I can*t be bothered talking to you, Johnny. You'll
make me throw something at you. Go away."
"I think it's rather mean, you know," continued the
persistent Johnny, "for a fellow like you, who doesn't
need it, to come and fill the market all at once, while
we unfortunate devils can scarcely get a crust. And
there are two heron just round the point, and I have
my breechloader and a dozen cartridges here."
" Go away, Johnny," that was all the answer he got.
"TU go out and teil Lord Newstead that you are
a cantankerous brte. I suppose he'll have the decency
to ofifer me luncheon; and I dare say I could get him
a shot at these heron. You are a fool not to come,
Lavender;" and, so saying, the yoimg man put out
again, and he was heard to go away talking to himself
about obstinate idiots, and greed, and the certainty of
getting a shot at the heron.
2o8 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
When he had quite gone, Lavender, who had
raised his eyes from his work, suddenly put down his
palette and brusbes he almost dropped them, indeed
and quickly put up both his haads to his head,
pressing them on the side of his temples. The old
fisherman in the boat beyond noliced Ibis strnge
movement, and forthwith caughi a rope, hauled the boal
across a stretch of water, and then came scrambng
over bowsprits, Iowered sails, and nets, to where
I.avender had just sat down.
"Wass there anything the matter, sir)" he said,
with much evidence of concern.
"My head is a Utile bad, Donald," Lavender said,
still pressing his hands on his temple, as if to get lid
of some Strange feeling; "I wish you wonld pull in to
the shore and get me some whisky."
"Oh ay," said the old man, hastily scrambling into
the little black boat lying beside the stnack; "and ft
is no wonder to me this will come to you, sir, fori
hef never seen any of the genlkmen so long at the
pentin as you from the morning tili the night and il
is no wonder to me this will come to you, But I will get
you the whushkey it is a grand thing, the whushkey."
The old fisherman was not long in getting ashore,
and running up to the cottage in which Lavender lived,
and getting a bottle of whisky and a glass. Then he
got down to the boal again, and was surprised that he
could nowhere see Mr. Lavender on board the smact.
Pcrhaps he had lain down on the nets in the bottom
of the boat.
When Donald got out to the smack, he found the
young man lying insensible, his face white, and hi
teeth clenched, With something of a cry, the old
iisjierman jumped into the boat, knelt down, and pro-
IN EXILE. 209
ceeded in a rough and ready fashion to force some
Whisky into Lavender's mouth.
"Oh ay, oh yes, it is a grand thing, the whushkey,"
he muttered to himself; "oh yes, sir, you must hef
some more it is no matter if you will choke it is
ferry goot whushkey, and will do you no hrm what-
ever and, oh yes, sir, that is ferry well, and you are
all right again, and you will sit quite quiet now, and
you will hef a little more whushkey."
The young man looked round him.
"Have you been ashore, Donald? Oh, yes; I suppose
so. Did I fall down? Well, I am all right now; it was
the glare of the sea that made me giddy. Take a
dram for yourself, Donald."
"There is but one glass, sir," said Donald, who
had picked up something of the notions of gentlefolks,
"but I will just tek the bottle;" and so, to avoid drink-
ing out of the same glass (which was rather a small
one), he was good enough to take a pull, and a strong
pull, at the black bottle. Then he heaved a sigh, and
wiped the top of the bottle with his sleeve.
"Yes, as I was saying, sir, there was none of the
gentlemen I hef effer seen in Tarbert will keep at the
pentin so long ass you; and many of them will be stronger
ass you and will be more accustomed to it whatever.
But when a man iss making money " and Donald
shook his head; he knew it was useless to argue.
"But I am not making money, Donald," Lavender
said, still looking a trifle pale. "I doubt whether I
have made as much as you have since I came to Tarbert."
"Oh yes," said Donald, contentedly, "all the gentle-
men will say that. They never hef any money. But
wass you ever with them when they could not get a
dram because they had no money to pay for itl"
A Frincss of Thvie. IL l\
OF THULE,
Donald'a tcst of impecuniosity could not be
sayed. Lavender laughed, and bade him get back inio
ihe other boat.
"Deed I will not," said Donald, sturdily.
Lavender stared at him.
"Oh no; you wass doing quite enough the day
already, or you would not hef tuinbled into the boat
whatcver. And supposing that you wass to hef tuin-
bled into the water, you would have been trooned as
sure as you wass alive."
"And a good Job too, Donald," said the younga
man, idly looking at the lapping green water.
Donald shook bis head gravely,
"You would not say tliat if you had friends
yours that wass trooned, and if you bad seen them
when they went down in the water-"
"They say it is an easy death, Donald.
"They neffer tried tt that said that," said the old
fisherraan, gloomily. "It wass one day tlie son of my
sister wass Coming over from Saltcoats- bot I hef CO
wish to speak of it; ajid that wass but one among
ferry many that I have known."
"How long is it since you were in the Lewis, dld yoi
sayl" Lavender asked, changing the subject. Donald wal
accustomed to have the talk suddenly diverted into ihis
Channel. He could not teil whythe youngEnglish strnget
wanted him continually to be talking about thc Le*
"Oh, it is many and many a year ago, as I hef siid;
and you will know far more about the Lewis tbail
will, But Stornoway, that is a fine big town; aod I|
hef a cousin there that keeps a shop, and is
rieh man whatever, and many's the time he will iA\
me to come and see him. And if the Lord be spred)i
maybe I will some day."
lat
ra-
IN EXILE. 211
"You mean if you be spaxed, Donald."
"Oh aye; it is all wan," said Donald.
Lavender had brought with him some bread and
cheese in a piece of paper, for luncheon; and this
Store of frugal provisions having been opened out, the
cid fisherman was invited to join in; an invitation he
gravely, but not eagerly, accepted. He took off his
blue bonnet and said grace; then he took the bread
and cheese in his hand, and looked round inquiringly.
There was a stone jar of water in the bottom of the
boat; that was not what Donald was looking after.
Lavender handed him the black bottle he had brought
out from the cottage, which was more to his mind.
And then, this humble meal despatched, the old man
was persuaded to go back to his post, and Lavender
continued his work.
The Short aftemoon was drawing to a dose when
young Johnny E3n:e came sailing in from Loch Fyne,
himself and a boy of ten or twelve managing that
crank little boat with its top-heavy sails.
'Are you at work yet, Lavender V he said. "I
never saw such a beggar. It's getting quite dark."
"What sort of luncheon did Newstead give you,
Johnny?"
"Oh, something worth going for, I can teil you.
You want to live in Tarbert for a month or two to
find out the value of decent cooking and good wine.
He was awfully surprised when I described this place
to him. He wouldn't believe you were living here in
s cottage I said a garret, for I pitched it hot and
strong, mind you. I said you were living in a garret,
that you never saw a razor, and lived on oatmeal
porridge and whisky, and that your only amusement
was going out at night and risking your neck in this
1^"
212 A PKINCESS C
delightful boat of mine. You should have seen him
examining this remarkable vessel. And there were two
ladies on board, and they were asking after you, too."
"Who were theyJ"
"I don't know. I didn't catch their names when
I was introduced; but the noble skipper called one of
them PoDy."
"Oh, I Itnow,"
"Ain't you coming ashore, Lavenderl You can'l
See to work now."
"All right. I shall put my traps ashote; and then
I'Il have a tun with you down Loch Fyne, if you like,
Johnny,"
"Well, I don't like," said the handsome lad, franUy;
"for ifs looking rather squally about. It seems to me
you're bent on drowning yourself. Before those otlicr
fellows went, they came to the conclusion that you
had committed a murder."
"Did they really!" Lavender said, with little interesL
"And if you go away and live in that wild place
you were talking of during the winter, they will be
quite sure of it. Why, man, you'd come back wift
your hair tumed white. You might as well think tm
living by yourself at the Arctic Pole." \
Neither Johnny Eyre nor any of the mcn who
had just left Tarbert knew anythJng of Frank L*j
vendeA recent history; and Lavender him seif was iNlj
disposed to be communicative. They would knorj
soon enough when they went up to London. In ihel
meantime they were surprised to find thal LavenderU
habits were very singularly altered. He had growR]
miserly. They laughed when he told ihem he had Mfl
money; and he did not seek to persuade them oftltti
facl; but it was clear, at all events, tliat nonc of thal
IN EXILE. 213
lived so frugally, or worked so anxiously, as he. Then,
when his work was done in the evening, and when
they met altemately at each other's rooms, to dine ofF
mutton and potatoes, with a glass of whisky, and a
pipe, and a game of cards to follow, what was the
meaning of those sudden fits of silence that would
strike in when the general hilarity was at its pitch?
And what was the meaning of the utter recklessness
he displayed when they would go out of an evening
in their open sailing-boats to shoot sea-fowl, or make
a voyage along the rocky coast in the dead of night,
to wait for the dawn to show them the haunts of the
seals? The Lavender they had met occasionally in
London was a fastidious, dilettante, self-possessed, and
yet not disagreeable young fellow; this man was almost
pathetically anxious about his work, oftentimes he was
morose and silent, and then again there was no sort
of danger or difficulty he was not ready to plunge
into when they were sailing about that iron-bound
coast They could not make it out; but the joke
among themselves was that he had committed a murder,
and therefore had grown reckless.
This Johnny Eyre was not much of an artist; but
he liked the society of artists; he had a little money
of his own, plenty of time, and a love of boating and
shooting; and so he had pitched his tent at Tarbert,
and was proud to cherish the delusion that he was
working hard and eaming fame and wealth. As a
matter of fact, he never eamed anything; but he had
very good spirits, and living in Tarbert is cheap.
From the moment that Lavender had come to the
place, Johnny Eyre made him his special companion.
He had a great respect for a man who could shoot
anjTthing anywhere; and when he and Lavender came
214 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
back together from a cniise, there was no use saying
which tiad aclually done the brilliant deeds tlie evidence
of which was cairied ashore. But Lavender, oddly
enough, knew little about sailing; and Johnny was
pleased to assume the airs of an instructor on ihii
point; his only difficulty being that bis pupil had mort
than the ordinary hardihood of an ignoramus, and was
inclined to do reckless things even after he had suf-
fictent skill to know that tbey were dangerous.
Lavender got into tbe small boat, taking his canvas
with him, biit leaving his easel in the fishiog-smact
He pulled himself and Johnny Eyre ashore; thej
scrambled up the rocks and into the road; and then
they went into the small white cottage in which La-
vender lived. The picture was, for gieater safety, lell
in Laveiider's bedroom, which already contained about
a dosen canvases with sketchea in various stages ofl
them. Then he went out to his friend again.
"I've had a long day to-day, Johnny. I wishyon^
go out with mej the excitement of a squall woiiU
clear one's brain, I fancy."
"Oh, TU go out if you like," Eyre said; "buti
shall take very good care to run in before the squull
comes, if there's any about. I don't think Ihere will
be, after all. I fancied I saw a fiash of lightninj
about half an hour ago, down in the south; biit n
thing has corne of it. There are some curlew about;
and the guillemots are in thonsands. You don't
to care about shooting guillemots, Lavender."
"Well, you see, potting a bird that is sitting OB
the water " said Lavender with a shrug.
"Oh, it isn't as easy as you might imagine. Of
course, you conld kill them if you liked, but oy
body ain't such a swell as you are with a gun; ao^
IN EXILS. 215
mind you, ifs uncommonly awkward lo catch the
right moment for firing when the bird goes bobbing
up and down on the waves, disappearing altogether
every second. I think it's very good fun. myself. It
is very exciting when you dor't know the moraent the
bird will dive, and whether you can afford to go any
nearer. And as for shooting them on the water, you
have to do that; for when do you get a Chance of
shooting them flyingl"
"I don't see much necessity for shooting them
at any time," said Lavender, as he went down to the
shore again, "but I am glad to see you get soroe
amusement out of it. Have you got cartridges with
yol Is your gun in the boatl"
" Yes. Come along. We'll have a run out, anyhow."
When they pulled out again to that cockle-shell
crafl with its stone ballast and big brown mainsail,
ie boy was sent ashore, and the two companions set
out by theniselves. By this time the sun had gone
down, and a strnge green twilight was shining over
the sea. As they got further out, the dusky shores
seemed to have a pale mist hanging around them;
bul there were no clouds on the hiUs, for a clear sky
shone overhead, awaiting the coming of the stars.
Strange, indeed, was the silence out here, broken only
by the lapping of the water on the sides of the boat,
and the caUing of birds in the distance. Far away
ihe orange ray of a lighthouse began to quiver in the
lambent dusk. The pale green light on the waves
did not die out; but the shadows grew darker, so
that Eyre, with his gun close at hand, could not make
his groups of guillemot;, although he heard them
alling all around. They had comc out too late,
. indeed, fbi aay such purpose.
2l6 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
TJiither, on those beautifui evemngs, after his da/s
work was over, Lavender was accustomed to come,
either by himself or wilh his present companion,
Johnny Eyre did not intrude on his solitude; he was
invariably too eager to get a shot, his chief dellght
being to get to the bow, to let the boal drift for a
while sently through the waves, so that she mighl
come unawares on some flock of sea-birds. Lavender,
sitting in the slern, with the tler in his Hand, was
really alone in this world of water and sky, wilh all
the majcsty of the night and the stars around him,
And on these occasions he used to sit and dream
of the beautifui time long ago in Loch Roag, when
nighls such as these used to come over the Atlantit^
and find Sheila and himself sailing on the peaceful
waters, or seated high up on the rocks listeaing to the
inurmur of the tide. Here was the same strnge
silence, the same solemn and pale lighl in the sky,
the same mystery of the moving piain all around theia
that seemed soroehow to be alive and yet voiceless
and sad. Many a time his heart becanie so fll of
recoUections, that he had almost called aloud "Sheila!
Sheilal" and waited for the sea and the sky to answei
him with the sound of her voice. In these bygooe
days he had pleased himself with the fancy that the,
girl was somehow the product of all the beauliful
aspects of nature around her. It was the sea that wis
in her eyes; it was the fair sunght that shone in ha
face; the breath of her life was the breath of thfi
moorland winds. He had written verses about ihb
fancy of hers; and he had conveyed them secretly to
her, sure that she, at least, would find no defects in;
them. And many a time, far away from Loch Roagf
and from Sheila, lines of this conceit would
i
IN EXILE. 217
through his brain, set to the saddest of all music, the
music of irreparable loss. What did they say to him
now that he recalled them like some half-forgotten
voice out of the strnge past?
For shty and the clouds, and the breezes voere one^
A nd the hls and the sea had conspired tuith the sun
To chattn and bevnlder all tnen imth the grace
TJiey combined and conjerred on her wondeiful/ace.
* * * * *
The sea lapped around the boat; the green light on
the waves grew less intense; in the silence the first of
the Stars came out; and somehow the time in which
he had seen Sheila in these rare and magical colours
seemed to become more and more remote.
4^ # #
An eutgel in passing looked daamward and smiledf
And carried to heaven the f ante of the child;
And then tvhat the tvaves and the sky and the sun
A nd the trentulous breath of the hiUs had begun^
Required but one touch. Tofinish the Tuhole,
God loved her, andgave her a beautiful soull
And what had he done with this rare treasure
entrusted to him) His companions, jesting among
themselves, had said that he had committed a murder;
in his own heart there was something at this moment
of a murderer's remorse.
Johnny Eyre uttered a short cry. Lavender looked
ahead, and saw that some black object was disappear-
ing among the waves.
"What a fright I got!" Eyre said, with a laugh.
"I never saw the fellow come near; and he came up
just below the bowsprit. He came heeling over as
quiet as a mouse. I say, Lavender, I think we might
as well cut it now; my eyes are quite bewildered with
the light on the water; I couldn't make out a kraken
if it was Coming across our bows."
"Don*t be in a hurry, Johnny. We*ll put her out
2l8 A PRISCESS OF THULE.
a bit, and then let her drift back. I want to tdi yoa
a Story."
"Oh, all right," he said; and so they put her head
round, and soon she was lying over before the breeze,
and slowly drawing away from Ihose outlines of the
coast which showed them where Tarbert harbour cut
into the land. And then, once more, they let her
drift, and yoiing Eyre look a nip of whisky and seted
himself so as to hear Lavender's story, whatever il
miglit be.
"You knew I was married)"
"Yes."
"Didn't yoti ever wonder why my wife did not
come herel"
"Why should I wonderl Pleoty of fellows have
to spend half the year apart from Iheir wivea; ihe only
thing in your caae I couldn't understand was the ne-
cessity for your doing it. For you know that's all
nonsense aboul your want of funds."
"It isn't nonsense, Johnny. But now, if you like,
I will teil you why my wife has never come here."
Then he told the story, out there under ihe stars,
with no thoughc of interruption, for there was a world
of moving water around them. It was the first time
he had let anyone into his confidence; and perhaps-
the darkness aided his revelations; but at any rate he
went over all the old time until it seemed to his com-
panion that he was talking to himself, so aimless and
desultory were his pathetic reminiscences. He caJled
her Sheila, ihough Eyre had never heard her name.
He spoke of her father as though Eyre must have
known him. And yet this rambng series of confession,
and self-reproaches, and tender memories, did fonii
a certain aort ofnarrative, so that the young fellow
k^
IN EXILE. 219
sitting quietly in the boat there got a pretty fair notion
of what had happened.
" You are an unlucky fellow," he said to Lavender.
"I never heard anything like that But you know you
must have exaggerated a good deal about it ^I should
like to hear her story. I am sure you could not have
treated her like that."
"God knows how I did, but the truth is just as I
have told you; and although I was blind enough at
the time, I can read the whole story now in letters of
fire. I hope you will never have such a thing con-
stantly before your eyes, Johnny."
The lad was silent for some time; and then he
said rather timidly
"Do you think, Lavender, she knows how sorry
you axeV*
"If she did, what good would that do?" said the other.
"Women are awfully forgiving, you know," Johnny
said, in a hesitating fashion. "I I don't think it is
quite fair not to give her a chance a chance of of
being generous, you know. You know, I think the
better a woman is, the more inclined she is to be
charitable to other folks who mayn't be quite up to
the mark, you know; and you see, it ain't everyone
who can claim to be always doing the right thing;
and the next best thing to that is to be sorry for what
youVe done and try to do better. If s rather cheeky,
you know, my advising you or trying to roake you
pluck up yoiu* spirits but FU teil you what it is,
Lavender, if I knew her well enough Pd go straight
to her to-morrow, and Pd put in a good word for you,
and teil her some things she doesn't know, and you'd
see if she wouldn't write you a letter, or even come
and see you "
220 A PRINCE5S OF THULE.
"Thal is all nonsense, Joliimy, though it's very good
of you lo think of it. The mischief I have done isn't
to be put aside by the raere writing of a lelter "
"But it seems lo me," Johnny said, with sonie
warmth, "that you are as unfair to her as to yourself in
not giving her a chance. You don't know how wilng
she may be to overlook everything that is past "
"If she were, I am not fit to go near her. I couldn't
have the cheek to try, Johnny."
"But what more can you be than sorry for what
is pasti" said the younger fellow, persistently, "And
you don't know how pleased it niAes a good woman
to give her a chance of forgiving anybody. And if
we were all to sei up for being archangels, and if
ihere was lo be no sort of getting back for us after
we had made a slip, where should we bei And in
place of going to her, and making it all right, you
Start away for the Sound of Islay, and, by Jove, won't
you find out what spending a winter under these Jura
mountains means!"
A flash of lightning somewhere down among the
Arran hills inteirupted the Speaker, and drew the
attention of the two young raen to the fact that in the
east and south-east the Stars were no longer visible,
while something of a brisk breeze had sprung up.
"This breeze will take us back splendidly," Johnny
said, getting ready again for the run in to Tarbert.
He had scarcely spoken when Lavender called
attention to a fishing-snsack that was apparently mak-
ing for the harbour. With all sails set, she was sweep-
ing by them ke some black phantom across the dark
piain of the sca. They could not make out the figiires
on board of herj but as she passed, some one called
out to them.
i
IN EXILE. 22 t
"What did he sayl" Lavender asked.
"I don't know," his companion said, "but it was
some sort of waming, I suppose. By Jove, Lavender,
what is that?"
Behind them there was a strnge hissing and
rumbling noise that the wind brought along to them,
but nothing could be seen.
"Rain, isn't itf" Lavender said.
"There never was rain like that," his companion
said. "That is a squall, and it wiD be here presently.
We must haul down the sails for God's sake, look
Sharp, Lavender!"
There was certainly no time to lose, for the hoise
behind them was increasing and deepening into a
roar; and the heavens had grown black overhead, so
that the spars and ropes of the crank little boat could
scarcely be made out. They had just got the sails
down when the first gust of the squaJl Struck the boat
as with a blow of iron, and sent her staggering forward
into the trough of the sea. Then all around them
came the fury of the storm; and the cause of the
sound they had heard was apparent in the foaming
water that was tom and scattered abroad by the gale.
Up from the black south-east came the fierce hur-
ricane, sweeping everything before it, and hurling
this creaking and straining boat about as if it were a
cork. They could see little of the sea around them,
but they could hear the awful noise of it, and they
knew they were being swept along on those hurrying
waves, towards a coast which was invisible in the
blackness of the night.
"Johnny, we'll never make the harbour. I can't
see a light," Lavender cried. "Hadn't we better try to
keep her up the loch?"
OF THULt
"We musl make the harbour," his companion said;
"she can't stand this much longer."
Blinding torrents of rain were now being driven
down by ihe force of ie wind, so thal all aroand
them ncithing was visible but a wild boing and seeth-
ing of cJouds and waves. Eyre was up at the bow,
trying to catch some glimpse of the outlines of the
coast, or to malte out some light that would show
them where ihe entrance to Tarbert harbour lay. If
only some lurid sliaft of lightning would pierce the
glooml^for they knew that they were being driven
headlong on an iron-bound coast, and amid all the
noise of the wind and the sea they listened with a fear
that had no words for the first roar of the waves along
the rocks.
Suddenly Lavender heard a shrill scream almost
like the cry that a hare gives when it finds the dog's
fangs in its neckj and at the same moment, amid all
the darkness of the night, a still blacker object seemed
to Start out of the gloom, right ahead of them, The
boy had no time to shout any warning beyond that
cry of despair; for with a wild craah the boat streck
on the rocks, rose and Struck again, and was then
dashed over by a heavy sea, both of its occupants
belog thrown inlo the fierce swirls of foam that were
dashing in and through the rocky Channels. Strangely
enough they were thrown together; and Lavender,
clinging to the seaweed, instinctively laid hold of his
companion just as the latter appeared to be slipping
inlo the gulf beneath.
"Johnny," he cried, "hold on! hold on to me, or
we shall both go in a niinute."
But the lad had no life left in bim, and lay like \
log there, wbe each wave that Struck and roUed
i
''HAM FAIN WOULD I BE/' 223
hissing and gurgling through the Channels betweein the
rocks, seemed to drag at him and seek to suck him
down into the darkness. With one despairing effort
Lavender struggled to get him further up on the
slippery seaweed, and succeeded. But his success had
lost him his own vantage-ground; and he knew that
he was going down into the swirling waters beneath,
close by the broken boat that was still being dashed
about by the waves.
CHAPTER X.
"Hame fain would I be.**
Unexpected circumstances had detained Mrs.
Kavanagh and her daughter in London long after
everybody eise had left; but at length they were ready
to Start for their projected trip into Switzerland. On
the day before their departure Ingram dined with them
on his own invitation. He had got into a habit of
letting them know when it would suit him to devote
an evening to their instruction; and it was difficult,
indeed, to say which of the two ladies submitted the
more readily and meekly to the dictatorial enunciation
of his opinions. Mrs. Kavanagh, it is true, sometimes
dissented in so far as a smile indicated dissent; but
her daughter scarcely reserved to herseif so much
liberty. Mr. Ingram had taken her in hand; and ex-
pected of her the obedience and respect due to his
superior age.
And yety somehow or other, he occasionally found
himself indirectly soliciting the advice of this gentle,
clear-eyed, and clear-headed young person, more
especially as regarded the difficulties surrounding
Sheila; and sometimes a chance remark of hers, uttered
in a timidy or careless, or even mocking fashion, would
2lS A PRINCESS OF THULE.
a bit, and then let her drift back. 1 want to teil you
a Story."
"Oh, all right," he said; and so they put her head
round, and soon she was lying over before the breeze^
and slowly drawing away from those outlines of the
coast which showed ihem where Tarbert harbour cut
inlo the Und. And then, once more, they let her
drift, and young Eyre took a. nip of whisky and seted
himself so as to hear Lavender's story, whatever
might be,
"You knew I was marriedj"
"Yes."
"Didn't you ever wonder why my wife did not
come herer'
"Why should I wonder) Plenly of fellows liave
to spend half the year apart from their wives; the only
thing in your case I couldn't understand was the ne-
cessity for your doing it. For you know thafs all
nonsense about your want of funds."
"It isn't nonsense, Johnny. But now, if you like,
I will teil you why my wife has never come here."
Then he told the story, out there onder the sters,
with no thought of interruption, for there was a world
of moving water atound them. It was the first t
he had let anyone into hi confidence; and perhaps.
the darkness aided bis revelations; but al any rate he
went over all the old lime until it seemed to his c
panion that he was talking to himself, so aimless and
desultory were his pathetic reminiscences. He called
her Sheila, though Eyre had never heard her oome.
He spoke of her father as though Eyre niust have
known liim. And yet this rambling series of confession,
and self-reproaches, and tender memories, did form J
f. certain sort of narrative, so that the young felloir I
"hAME FAIN WOULD I BE." 225
one takeg account of the temptations of thc rieh. Vau
bave people educated from their infancy to imagine
ihat Ihe whole world was made for them every wish
they have, gratified every day showing them people
dependeat on them and grateful for favours; and no
allowance is made for such a temptation to become
haughty, self-willed, and overbearing. But of coursc
it Stands to reason that the rieh never have justice
done them in plays and stories; for the people who
write are poor."
"Not all of them."
"But enough to strike an average of injustice. And
it is very hard. For it is the rieh who buy books and
who take bses at the theatres, and Ihen Ihey find
Ihemselves grossly abusedj whereas the humble peasant
who can searcely read at all, and who never pays more
than sixpence for a seat in the gallery, is flallered, and
coaxed, and caressed until one wonders whether the
soorce of virtue is the drinking of sour ale. Mr. In-
gram, you do it yourself. You impress Mamma and
me with the belief that we are miserable sinaers if we
are not conttnually doing some act of charity. Well,
that is all very pleasaot and necessary, in moderation;
but you don't find the poor folks so very anxious to
live for other people. They don't care much what be-
comes of us. They take your port wine and flannels
as if they were conferring a favour on you; but as for
ycur condition and prospects, in this worid and the
next, they don't trouble much about that Now, Mamma,
just wait a moment "
"I will not. You are a bad girl," said Mrs, Ka-
vanagh, scverely. "Here has Mr. Ingram been teach-
ing you and making you betier for ever so long back,
ind you pretend lo accept his counael and reform
2l(} A PRINCESS OF THULE,
yoUTself; and ihen all at once you break
throw down the lablels of ihe law, and conduct your-
self like a heathen."
"Because 1 warn !iim to explain, Mamma. I snp-
pose he coosiders it wicked of us to start for Switzer-
land to-morrow. The money we shaU spend in travel-
ling noight have despatched a cargo of muskets to some
missionary statioa, so tbat "
"CecUia!"
"Oh no," Ingram said, carelesaly, and nursing his
knee with both his hands as usual, "travelng ig not
wicked it is only unreasonable. A traveller, you
know, is a person who has a house in one town, and
who goes to live in a house in another town, in order
to have the pleasure of paying for both."
"Mr. Ingram," said Mrs. Kavanagh, "will you lac
seriously for one minute, and teil me whether we are
to expect to see you in the T)toH"
But Ingram was not in a mood for talking seriously;
and he waited to hear Mrs. Lorraine strike in with
some calmly audacious invitation. She did not, how-
ever; and he tumed round from her mother to ques-
tion her. He was surprised to find that her eyes were
fixed on the ground, and that something like a tinge
of colourwas in her face. He turned rapidly away again.
"Well, Mrs. Kavanagh," he said, wich a fine air of
indifference, "the last time we spoke aboul that, I
not in the difficulty I am in at presenL How cou
go travelling just now, without knowing how to regulaie
my daily expenses) Am I to travelwith sis white horses
and silver bells, or trudge on foot with a walleti"
"But you know quite weil," said Mrs. Lorraine,
warmly "you know you will not touch that money
that Mrs. Lavender has left you."
"HAME FAIN WOULD 1 B." 22^
"Oh, pardon tne," he said; "I should rejoice to-
have it if it did not properly belong to someone eise.
And the difficulty is that Mr. Mackenzie is obviously
veiy anxious that neither Mr. Lavender nor Sheila
should have it If Sheila gets it, of course she will
give it to her husband. Now, if it is not to be given
to her, do you think I should regard the money with
any particular horror, and refuse to touch itl That
would be very romantic, perhaps; but I should be sorry,
you know, to give my friends the most disquieting
doubts about my sanity. Romance goes out of a tnan's
head when the hair gets grey."
"Until a man has grey hair," Mrs. Lorraine said,
still with some unnecessary fervour, "he does not know
that there are things much more valuable than money.
You wouldn't touch that money just now; and all the
thinking and reasoning in the world will never get you
to touch it"
"What am I to do with itl" he said, meekly.
"Give it to Mr. Mackenzie, in trust for his daughter,"
Mrs. Lorraine said promptly; and then, seeing that
her mother had gone to the end of the drawing-room,
to fetch something or other, she added quickly: "I
should be more sorry than I can teil you to find you
accepting this money. You do not wish to have it
You do not need it And if you did take it, it would
prove a source of continual embarrassment and regret
to you; and no assurances on the part of Mr. Macken-
zie would be able to convince you that you had acted
rightly by his daughter. Now, if you simply hand over
your responsibilities to him, he cannot refuse them, for
the sake of his own ichild, and you are left with the
sense of having acted nobly and generously. I hope
there are many men who would do what I ask you to
228 A PBINCESS OF THULE.
do; but I have not met raany to whom I could make
such an appeal with any hope. But, after aJl, that is
only advice, I have no right to ask you to do any-
thing hke that. You asked me for roy opinioa about
it~Well, that is iL But I should not have asked
you to act on it."
"But I will," he said , in a low voice; and then he
went to the other end of the room, for Mrs, Kavanagh
was calbng him to heip her in finding someihing she
had lost.
Before he left that evening Mrs. Lorrainesaid tohim
" We go by the night mail to Paris to-morrow night;
and we shall dine here at five. Would you have the
courage to come up and join us in that tnelancbolj
ceremonyl"
"Oh, yes," he said, "if I may go down to the
Station to see you away afterwards."
"I think if we got you so far, we should persuadft
you to go with us," Mrs. Kavanagh said, with a sinile.
He sat ailent for a minute. Of course, she couid
not seriously mean such a thing. But at all events she
would not be displeased if he crossed their patb wbile
they were actually abroad.
"It is getting too late in the year to go to Scot-
land now," he said, with some hesitation.
"Oh, most certainly," Mrs. Lorraine said.
"I don't know where the man in whose yadit I
was to have gone may be now. I might spend half"]
my hoday in trying to catch him."
"And during that time you would be alone," Mrfc
Lorraine said.
"I suppose the Tyrol is a very nice place," hc
suggested.
"Oh, most deiighlful," she exclaimed. "You kooV
"hAME FAIN WOULD 1 BE. 229
we should go round by Switzerland, and go up by
Luceme and Zrich to the end of the Lake of Con-
stance Bregenz, Mamma, isn't that the place where
we hired that good-natured man the year before last^'
"Yes, chd."
"Now, you see, Mr. Ingram, if you had less time
Ihan we if you could not start with us to-morrow^
you raight conie straight down by Schaffhausen and
the steamer, and catch us up there, and then Mamma
would become your guide. I am sure we should have
some pleasant days together, tili you got tired of us,
and then you could go off on a Walking tour if you
pleased. And then, you know, there would be no dif-
ficulty about our meeting at Eregenz; for Mamma and
I have plenty of time, and we should wait Ihere for a
few days so as to make sure "
"Cecilia," said Mrs. Kavanagh, "you must not per-
suade Mr. Ingram against his will. He may have other
duties other friends to see perhaps."
"Who proposed it, mammaJ" said the daughter,
calmly.
"I did, as a mere joke. But, of course, if Mr. In-
gram thinks of going to the Tyrol, we should be most
pleased to see him there,"
"Oh, I have no other friends whom I am bound
to see," Ingram said, with some hesitation; "and I
should like to go to the Tyrol. But the fact is I
am afraid "
"May I Interrupt yout" said Mrs. Lorraine, "You
do not like to leave London so long as your friend
Sheila is in trouble. Is not that the casel And yet
Bbe has her father to look afler her. And it is clear
jou caimol do much for her when you do not even
know whcre Mr. Lavender is. On the whole, I think
230 A PRIMCESS OP TRtILE.
you should consider yourself a little bit now, and not-
get cheated out of your holidays for ihe year."
"Very well," Ingram said, "I shall be able lo letl
you to-morrow."
To be so phlegmadc and matter-of-fact a person,
Mr. Ingram was sorely disturbed on going home thal
evening, nor did he sieep much during the night For
the more that he speculated on all the possibilities
that might arise from his meeting ihose people in ihe
Tyrol, the more pertinaciously did this refrain foUow
these excursive fancies "If I go lo Ihe Tyrol, I iha!l
fall in lave with ihat gtrl and ask her to tnarry me. And
if I do so, wkat Position should I hold viiih regard ta
her, as a penniless man with a rieh wi/e?"
He did not look at the question in such a light as
the opinion of the world might throw on it. The diffi-
cuUy was what she herseif might afterwards comc to
ihink of their mutual relations. True it was that no
one could be more gentle and submissive to him than
she appeared to be. In malters of opinion and dis-
cussion he already mied with an auiocratic authoriiy
which he fuUy perceived himself, and exercised, too,
with some soit of notlon that it was good for this
clear-headed young woraan to have to submit to con-
irol. But of what avail would this moral authority be
as against the consciousness she would have that it
was her fortune that was supplying both with ihe
means of livingl
He went down to his office in the moming wjtb
no plans formed. The forenoon passed; and he had
decided on nothing, At mid-day he suddenly bethougW
him that it would be very pleasant if Sheila would go
and see Mrs. Lorrainej and forthwith he did that wh
would have driven Frank Laven der out of bis senscj
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE/* 23 t
he telegraphed to Mrs. Lorraine for permission to bring
Sheila and her father to dinner at five. He certainly
knew that such a request was a trifle cool; but he had
discovered that Mrs. Lorraine was not easily shocked
by such audacious experiments on her good-nature.
When he received the telegram in reply, he knew it
granted what he asked. The words were merely
"Certainly by all means but not later than five."
Then he hastened down to the house in which
Sheila lived, and found that she and her father had
just retumed from visiting some exhibition. Mr.
Mackenzie was not in the room.
"Sheila," Ingram said, "what would you think of
my getting marriedl"
Sheila looked up with a bright smile and said
"It would please me very much it would be a
great pleasure to me; and I have expected it for some
time."
"You have expected i" he repeated, with a stare.
"Yes," she said, quietly.
"Then you fancyyou know " he said, or rather
stammered, in great embarrassment, when she inter-
rupted him by sapng
"Oh, yes, I think I know. When you came down
every evening to teil me all the praises of Mrs. Lor-
raine, and how clever she was, and kind, I expected
you would come some day with another message; and
now I am very glad to hear it; you have changed all
my opinions about her, and "
Then she rose and took both his hands, and looked
frankly into his face.
" And I do hope most sincerely you will be
happy, my dear friend."
Ingram was fairly taken aback at the consequences
326 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
yourself; and then all al once you break out, and
throw down the tablets of the law, and conduct your-
self like a. heathen."
"Because 1 want him to explain, Mamma- I sop-
pose he considers it wicked of us to start for Switier-
land to-morrow. The money we shall spend in travel-
ling might have despatched a cargo of muskets to some
missionary Station, so that "
"Oh no," Ingram said, carelessly, and nursing bis
knee with both his hands as usual, "travelling U nol
wicked it is only unreasonable. A traveller, jou
know, is a person who has a house in one town, asd
who goes to live in a house in another town, in order
to have the pleasure of paying for both."
"Mr. Ingram," said Mrs, Kavanagh, "will you lallt
seriously for one minute, and teil me whether we aK
to expect to see you in the Tyroll"
But Ingram was not in a mood for talking seriously;
and he waited to hear Mrs. Lorraine strike in with
some calmly audacious invitation. She did not, hw-
ever; and he tumed round from her mother to ques-
tion her. He was surprised to find that her eyes wer
fixed on the ground, and that something like a finge
of colour was in her face. He turned rapidly away again.
"Well, Mrs. Kavanagh," he said, with a 6ne air of
indifference, "the last time we spoke about thal, I was
not in the difficulty I am in aC present. How could I
go travelling just now, without knowing how to regulate
my daily expenses) Am I to travel with six white horses
and siiver bells, or trudge on foot with a walleti"
"But you know quite well," said Mrs. Lonatne,
warmly "you know you will not touch that monej
iat Mrs. Lavender has lefl you."
"HAME FAIN WOULD 1 B." 227"
"Oh, pardon tne/* he said; "I should rejoice to-
have it if it did not properly belong to someone eise/
And the difculty is that Mr. Mackenzie is obviously
very anxious that neither Mr. Lavender nor Sheila
should have it If Sheila gets it, of course she will
give it to her husband. Now, if it is not to be given
to her, do you think I should regard the money with
any particular horror, and refuse to touch ifi That
would be very romantic, perhaps; but I should be sorry,
you know, to give my friends the most disquieting
doubts about my sanity. Romance goes out of a man's
head when the hair gets grey."
"Until a man has grey hair," Mrs. Lorraine said,
stl with some unnecessary fervour, ''he does not know
that there are things much more valuable than money.
You wouldn't touch that money just now; and all the
thinking and reasoning in the world will never get you
to touch it"
"What am I to do with it?" he said, meekly.
"Give it to Mr. Mackenzie, in trust for his daughter,"
Mrs. Lorraine said promptly; and then, seeing that
her mother had gone to the end of the (kawing-room,
to fetch something or other, she added quickly: "I
should be more sorry than I can teil you to find you
accepting this money. You do not wish to have it
You do not need it And if you did take it, it would
prove a source of continual embarrassment and regret
to you; and no assurances on the part of Mr. Macken-
zie would be able to convince you that you had acted
rightly by his daughter. Now, if you simply hand over
your responsibilities to him, he cannot refuse them, for
the sake of his own child, and you are left with the
sense of having acted nobly and generously. I hope
tbere are many men who would do what I ask you to
tc
228 A PRINCESS OF TBULE.
do; but I hav not met raany to whom I could make
such an appeai with aity hope. But, afler all, that is
only advice. I have no righl to ask you to do any-
thing like thaL You asked me for my opinion aboui
it- ^Well, that is it. But I should not have asVed
you to act on iL"
"But I will," he said, in a low voicej and then be
went to the other end of the room, for Mrs. Kavanagh
was calling him to help her in finding something she
had lost.
Before he left thateveningMrs.Lorrainesaid tohim
"We go by the night mail to Paris to-morrow night;
and we shall dine bere at five. Would you have ihe
CQurage to come up and join us in that metancholr
ceremony)"
"Oh, yes," he said, "if I may go down to (be
Station to see you away afterwards."
"I think if we got you so far, we should persuade
you to go with us," Mrs. Kavanagh said, with a smile.
He sat silent for a minute. Of coiuse, she could
not seriously mean such a thing. But at all events she
would not be displeased if he crossed theii patb wbile
they were actually abroad.
"It is gettiog too late in the year to go to Scot-
land now," he said, with some hesitation.
"Oh, most certainly," Mrs. Lorraine said.
"I don't know where ihe man in whose yacht I
was to have gone may be now, I mighl spend half
my holiday in trying to catch him."
"And during that time you would be alone," Mrs
Lorraine said.
"I suppose the Tyrol is a very nice place." be
suggested.
"Oh, most delightfiil," she exclatmed. "You koo*,
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE." 229
WC should go round by Switzerland, and go up by
I.ucerae and Zrich to the end of the Lake of Con-
stance Bregenz, Mamma, isn't that the place where
we hired that good-natured man the year before last)"
"Yes, child."
"Now, you see, Mr. Ingram, if you had less lne
than we if you could not Start with us to-morrow
you might come straight down by Schaffhausen and
the steamer, and catch us up there, and then Mamma
would become your guide. I am sure we should have
some pleasant days together, tili you got tired of us,
and then you could go off on a Walking tour if you
pleased. And then, you know, there would be no dif-
ficulty about our meeling at Bregenz; for Mamma and
I have pienly of time, and we should wait there for a
few days so as lo make sure "
"Cecilia," said Mrs. Kavanagh, "you must not per-
suade Mr. Ingram against his will. He may have other
dnties other friends to see perhaps,"
"Who proposed it, mamma?" said the daughter,
calmly.
"I did, as a mere Joke. But, of course, if Mr. In-
gram thinks of going to the Tyrol, we should be most
pleased to see him there."
"Oh, I have no other friends whom I am bound
to see," Ingram said, with some hesitation; "and I
should like to go to the Tyrol. But the fact is I
am afraid -"
"May I Interrupt you!" said Mrs. Lorraine. "You
do not like to leave London so long as your friend
Sheila is in trouble. Is not that the casel And yet
she has her father to look after her. And it is clear
you cannot do much for her when you do not even
loiow where Mr. Lavender is. On the whole, I think
230 A PSnCCBSS OF THtT
jo shotd omsider fonradT a Httle btt dow, and no(
get cbcMcd 00t of Toor boUdajs for tbe yeax."
"Verf well,' Ingram said, "I Aah be ab\e to Ufl
jo to-moiTOw."
To be so [dil^jTnatic and maUeraf-fact a. peraon,
Hl. Ingram was sonij disturbed on going horoe al
evening, nor djd be ^eep much during the oighL Fof
ihe more ibat he speculated on all tbe posstbhies
ihat might aiise from his meeting those people in the
Tyrol, the toore pertinaciously did this reftain foilo*
these excuisive fancies "// I go lo the Tyrol, I shall
fall in loDt with thit girl and atk her lo wua-ry mt, AnJ
if I do to, mhal Position skould I hold wilk regard li
her, at a pennilea man with a rieh wift?"
He did not lock at the question in such a light as
the opinion of the warld might throw on it. The diffi-
culty was what she heiself might aflerwards come
think of their mutual telations. True it was that no
one could be more gentle and submissive to him thaa
she appeared to be. In matters of opinion and dis-
cussion he already raled wjth an autocratic authority
which he fully perceived himself, and exercised, too,
with some sort of notian that it was good for this
clear-headed young woman to have to submit to con-
trol. ISut of what avail would this moral authority be
as against the consciousness she would have that it
was her fortune ihat was supplying both with the
means of livingl
He weot down to his Office in the moming with
no plans formed. The forenoon passed; and he had
decided on nothing. At mid-day he suddenly bethoughl
him that it wuuld be very pleasant if Sheila would
and seeMrs. Lorraine; and forthwith he did that
would have drivcn Frank Lavender out of his
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE.** 23 t
he telegraphed to Mrs. Lorraine for permission to bring
Sheila and her father to dinner at five. He certainly
knew that such a request was a trifle cool; but he had
discovered that Mrs. Lorraine was not easily shocked
by such audacious experiments on her good-nature.
When he received the telegram in reply, he knew it
granted what he asked. The words were merely
"Certainly by all means but not later than five."
Then he hastened down to the house in which
Sheila lived, and found that she and her father had
just retumed from visiting some exhibition. Mr.
Mackenzie was not in the room.
"Sheila," Ingram said, "what would you think of
my getting marriedl"
Sheila looked up with a bright smile and said
"It would please me very much it would be a
great pleasure to me; and I have expected it for some
time." ^
"You have expected it?" he repeated, with a stare.
"Yes," she said, quietly.
"Then you fancy you know " he said, or rather
stammered, in great embarrassment, when she inter-
rupted him by sapng
"Oh, yes, I think I know. When you came down
every evening to teil me all the praises of Mrs. Lor-
raine, and how clever she was, and kind, I expected
you would come some day with another message; and
now I am very glad to hear it; you have changed all
my opinions about her, and "
Then she rose and took both his hands, and looked
frankly into his face.
" And I do hope most sincerely you will be
happy, my dear friend."
Ingram was fairly taken aback at the consequences
132 A FRIMCBSS Or THULE.
of his own iraprudence. He had never dreamed for
a moment that anyone would have suspecled such a
thingi and he had ihrown out the Suggestion toShea
almosl as a jest, believing, of course, that h compro-
mised no one. And here before he had spokra a
Word to Mrs. Lorraine on the subject he was being
congralutated on his approaching marriage.
"Oh, Sheila," he said, "this is all a mistake. Itwas
a joke of mine if I had known you would Ehink of Mrs.
Lonaine, I should not have said a word about il "
"But it is Mrs. Lorrainel" Sheila said.
"Well, but I have never mentioned such a thingto
her^never hinted it in the rcmotest manner. 1 dare
say if I had, she might laugh the matter aside as too
absurd,"
"She will not do that," Sheila said; "if you ask
her to marry you, she will marry you. I am sure of
that from what 1 have heard, and she would be veiy
foolish if she was not proud and glad to do that And
you what doubt can you have, after all that you have
been saying of lateJ"
"But you don't marry a woman merely because
you admire her cleveraess and kindness," he said; and
then he added suddenly, "Sheila, would you do me a
great favourl Mrs. Lorraine and her mother are leav-
ing for the continent lo-night. They dine at five; and
I am commissioned to ask you and your papa if you
would go up with me and have some dinner with
them, you know, before they Start Won't you do
that, Sheilal"
The girl shook her head, without answering. She
had not gone to any friend's house since her husband
had left London; and that house above all olhers wa*
calculated to awaken in her bitler recollections.
wJ
^HAMS FAIN WOULD I BE.'' 2$$
"Won't you, Sheilat'* he said. "You uscd to go
there. I know they like you very much. I have seen
you very well pleased and comfortable there, and I
thought you were enjoying yourself."
^'Yes, that is true/' she said; and then she looked
up, with a Strange sort of smile on her Ups, ^but
*wz/ made tJke assembly shtne?' '*
That forced smile did not last long: the girl sud-
denly burst into tears, and rose, and went awayto the
window. Mackenzie came into the room; he did not
see his daughter was crying.
"Well, Mr. Ingram, and are you Coming with us
to Lewis? We cannot always be staying in London,
for there will be many things wanting the looking
after in Borva, as you will know ferry well. And yet
Sheila she will not go back; and Main, too, she will
be forgetting the ferry sight of her own people; but
if you wass coming with us, Mr. Ingram, Sheila she
would come too, and it would be ferry good for her
whatever.'*
"I have brought you another proposaL Will you
take Sheila to see the Tyrol, and I wUl go with youl"
**The Tyroll" said Mr. Mackenzie. "Ay, it is a
ferry long way away, but if Sheila will care to go to
the Tyrol oh, yes! I will go to the Tyrol, or any-
where if she will go out of London, for it is not good
for a young girl to be always in the one house, and
no Company, and no variety; and I wass sajdng to
Sheila what good will she do sitting by the window,
and thinking over things, and crying sometimes by
Kott, it is a foolish thing for a young girl, and I will
hef no more of it!"
In other drcumstances Ingram would have laughed
234 A PniNCESS OF THULE.
at this dreadfu! threat. Despite the frown on the old
man's face, the sudden stanip of his foot, and the
vehemence of his words. Ingram knew that if Sheill
had turned round and said that she wished to be shut
up IQ a dark room for the rest of her Hfe, the o!d
King of Borva would have said, "Ferry well, Sheila,"
in the meekest way, and would have been satified if
only he could share her imprisonment with her.
"But rst of all, Mr. Mackenzie, I have anollier
proposal to make to you," Ingram said; and then he
urged Qpon Sheila's father to accepl Mrs. Lorraine'i
iovitation. Mr. Mackenzie was nothing loth; Sheila
was iiving by far too monotonous a life. He wenl
over to the window to her and said
"Sheila, my lass, you wass going nowhere eise this
evening; and it would be ferry convenient to go with
Mr, Ingram, and he would see his friends away, and
we could go to a theatre then. And it is no ne*
thing for you to go to fine houses, and see other
people; but it is new to me, and you wass saying
what a beautiful house it wass many a time, and I
hef wished to see it. And the people they are ferry
kind, Sheila, to send me an invitation, and if they
wass to come to the Lewis, what would you think if
you asked them to come to your house, and they paid
no heed to itl Now, it is after four, Sheila, and if
you wass to get ready now "
"Yes, I will go and get ready, papa," she said,
Ingram had a vague consciousness that he was
taking Sheila up to introduce to her Mrs. Lorraine in
a new character. Would Sheila look at the woraan
she used to fear and disltke in a wholly diBk
fashion, and be prepared to adom her with all
1
rt ,
"HAME PAIN WOtJLD I BE/* 235
graces which he had so often described to her? In-
gram hoped that Sheila would get to like Mrs. Lor-
rainej and that by-and-by a better acquaintance be-
tween them might lead to a warm and friendly intimacy,
Somehow he feit that if Sheila would betray such a
liking if she would come to him and say honestly that
she was rejoiced he meant to marry all his doubts
would be cleared away. Sheila had already said pretty
nearly as much as that; but then it followed what she
understood to be an announcement of his approach-
ing marriage, and, of course, the girl's kindly nature
at once suggested a few pretty speeches. Sheila now
knew that nothing was settled; after looking at Mrs.
Lorraine in the light of these new possibilities, would
she come to him and Council him to go on and chal-
lenge a decision)
Mr. Mackenzie received with a grave dignity and
politeness the more than friendly welcome given him
both by Mrs. Kavanagh and her daughter; and, in
view of their approaching tour, he gave them to un-
derstand that ke had himself established somewhat
familir relations with foreign countries by reason of
his meeting with the ships and sailors hailing from
these distant shores. He displayed a profound know-
ledge of the habits and customs, and of the natural
products, of many remote lands, which were much
further afield than a little bit of inland Germany. He
represented the island of Borva, indeed, as a sort of
lighthouse from which you could survey pretty nearly
all the countries of the globe; and broadly hinted that,
so far from insular prejudice being the fruit of living
in such a place, a general intercourse with diverse
peoples tended to widen the understanding and throw
light on the various social experiments that had been
jj6 A FKINCE5S OV THULE.
made by thc lawgivers, Ihe phiUnthropists, the philo-
sophers of the world-
It seemed to Sheila, as she sat and listened, thit
the pale, caJm, and clear-eyed young lady opposile
her was not quite so self-possessed as usual. She
seemed shy, and a little self-conscious. Did she suspect
that she was being observed, Sheila wondered; and
the reasonl When dinner was announced she took
Sheila's arm, and allowed Mr. Ingram to follow them,
protesting, into the Other room; but there was much
mote of embarrassment and timidity than of an auda-
cious mischief in her look. She was very kind indeed
to Sheila; but she had whoUy abandoned that air of
matemal patronage which she used to assume towaids
the girl. She seemed to wish lo be more friendly
and confidential with her; and, indeed, scarcely spoke
a Word to Ingram during dinner, so persistently did
she talk to Sheila, who sat next her.
Ingram got vexed.
"Mrs. Lorraine," he Said, "you seem to forget that
this is a sotemn occasion. You ask us to a farenell
banquet; but instead of observing the proper cere-
monies, you pass the time in talking aboul fancy-wort,
and music, and other ordinary every-day trifles."
"What are the ceremonies)" she said.
"Well," he answered, "you need not occupp the
time with crochet -"
"Mrs, Lavender and I are very well pleased to tatk
about trifles."
"But I am not," he said, bluny, "and I am nol
going to be shut out by a conspiracy. Cotne, let us
talk about your joumey."
"Will my lord give his comraands as to the poini
at which we shall start the conversation."
"HME FAIN WOULD 1 BE.*' 237
"You may skip the Channel"
^I wish I could/' she remarked with a sigh.
"We shall land you in Paris. How are we to
know that you have arrived safely^"
She looked embairassed for a moment, and then
Said
''If it is of any consequence for you to know, I
shall be writing in any case to Mrs. Lavender, about
some little private matter."
Ingram did not receive this promise with any great
show of delight
^You see/' he said, somewhat glumly, ''if I am to
meet you an3rwhere, I should like to know the various
stages of your route, so that I could guard against
our missing each other."
**You have decided to go thenV*
Ingram, not looking at her, but looking at Sheila,
said ^Yes!" and Sheila, despite all her efforts, could
not help glancing up with a brief smile and blush oi
pleasure that were quite visible to everybody. Mrs.
Loiraine Struck in, with a sort of nervous haste,
^Oh, that will be veiy pleasant for mamma; for
she gets rather tired of me at times when we are tra-
velling. Two women who always read the same sort
of books, and have the same opinions about the people
they meet, and have precisely the same tastes in eveiy-
thing, are not very amusing companions for each othen
You want a little discussion thrown in "
'^And if we meet Mr. Ingram we are sure to have
that," Mrs. Kavanagh said, benignly.
'^And you want somebody to giveyou new opinions,
and put things differently, you know. I am sure
mamma will be most kind to you, if you can make it
convenient to spend a few da3rs with us, Mr. Ingram."
2j8
"And I have been trying to persuade Mr. Macken zic
and this young lady to come also," said Ingram.
"Oh, that would be delightful!" Mrs. Lorraine
cried, suddenly taking Sheila's band. "You will come,
won't you? We should have such a pleasant party.
I am sure your papa would be most interested; and
we are not tied to any route we should go wherever
you pleased."
She would bave gone on beseeching and advising,
bat she saw something in Sheila's face which told her
that all her efforts would be unavailmg.
"It is very kind of you," Sheila said, "bul I do
not think I can go to the Tyrol."
"Then you will go back to the Lewis, Sheila," her
falber said.
"I cannot go back to the Lewis, papa," she said,
simply; and at this point Ingram, perceiving how pain-
ful the discussion was for the girl, suddenly called
attention to the hour, and asked Mrs. Kavanagh if all
her portmanteaus were strapped up.
They drove in a body down to the Station; anil
Mr. Ingram was most assiduous in supplying the to
travellers with an abundance of everything they conld
not possibly want He got them a reading-Iampi
though both of them declared they never read in *
train. He got them some eau-de-cologne, though they
had plenty in their travelling-case. He purchased for
them an amount of miscellaneous Itterature that would
have been of benefit to a hospital provided that ihe
patients were strong enough to bear it And then
bade them good-bye at least half-a-dozen times as ihc
train was slowly moving out of the Station, and mjidi
the most solemn vows about meeting them at Bregcni
"Now, Sheila," he said, "ahall we go to a theane!"
"kme FAIN WOULD I BE," ^fjgT
**I d not care to go unless you wish/' was the answer.
"She does not care to go anywhere now/' her
father said; and then the girl, seeing that he was rather
distressed about her apparent want of interest, pulled
herseif together and said, cheerfully
''Is it not too late to go to a theatre) And I am
sure we could be very comfortable at home. Mairi,
she will think it very unkind if we go to the theatre
by ourselves."
"Mairi!" said her father, impatiently, for he never
lost an opportunity of indirectly justifying Lavender.
''Mairi has more sense than you, Sheila, and she
knows that a servant-lass has to stay at home, and
she knows that she is ferry different from you, and
she is a ferry good girl whatever, and hass no pride,
and she does not expect nonsense in going about and
such things."
"I am quite sure, papa, you would rather go home
and sit down and have a talk with Mr. Ingram, and
a pipe, and a little whisky, than go to any theatre."
"What I would dol And what I would like!"
said her father, in a vexed way. "Sheila you have no
more sense as a lass that wass still at the school. I
want you to go to the theatre, and amuse yourself,
instead of sitting in the house, and thinking, iinking,
thinking. And all for whatV
^But if one has something to be sorry for, is it
not better to think of itl"
"And what hef you to be sorry fori" said her
father, in amazement, and forgetting that, in his diplo-
matic fashion, he had been accustoming Sheila to the
notion that she, too, might have erred grievously and
been in part responsible for all that had occurred.
**I have a great deal to be sorry for, papa," she
I indc
240 A PBINCESS OF THtn-E.
Said; and theo she renewed her entreaties ial her
two companions should abandon their notion of going
to a theatre, and lesolved to spend the rest of the
evening in what she consenCed to call her horae.
After all they formed a comfortable little company
when ihey sat round the fire, which had been Ht for
cheerfulness rather than for warmth; and Ingram, at
least, was in a particularly pleaaant mood. For Sheila
had seized the opportunity, when her father had goue
out of the room for a few minutes, to say, suddeniy
"Oh, my dear friend, if you care for her, you liave
a great happiness before you."
"Why, Sheilat" he said, staring.
"She cares for you more than you can Ihink I
saw it to-night in everything she said and did."
"I thought she was just a trifle saucy, do you knoT.
She shunted tue out of the conversation altogether."
Sheila shook her head and smiled.
"She was crabarrassed. She suspects that you like
her, and that I know it, and that I came to see her,
If you ask her to many you, she will do it gladJy."
"Sheila," Ingram said, with a severity that was not
in his heart, "you must not say such things. Yoa
might make fearfui mischief by putting these wild no-
tions into peopie's heads,"
"They are not wild notions," she said, quietly.
"A woman can teil what another woman is tnking
about better than a man."
"And am I to go to the Tyrol and ask her to
majry mel" he said, with the air of a meek scholar.
"I should like to see you married very, very nmch
indeed," Sheila said.
And to herl"
'Yea, to her," the girl said, frankly. "For I am
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE." 2^1
sure she has a great regard for you, and she is clever
enough to put value on on but I cannot flatter you,
Mr. Ingram.^
''Shall I send you word about what happens in the
Tyrolf" he said, still with the humble air of one re-
ceiving instructions.
"Yes."
^And if she rejects me, what shall I dof "
"She will not reject you."
''Shall I come to you for consolation, and ask you
what you meant by driving me on such a blunder)"
**If she rejects you," Sheila said, with a smile, "it
will be your own fault, and you will deserve it For
you are a little too harsh wii her, and you have too
much authority, and I am surprised that she will be
so amiable under it. Because, you know, a woman
expects tobe treated with much gentleness and deference
before she has said she will marry she likes to be
entreated, and coaxed, and made much of ; but instead
ofthat, you are very overbearing with Mrs. Loiraine."
"I did not mean to be, Sheila," he said, honestly
enough. ^'If anything of the kind happened, it must
have been in a joke."
^Oh no, not a joke," Sheila said; ''and I have no-
ticed it before the very first evening you came to
tfaeir house. And perhaps you did not know of it
yoorself; and then Mrs. Lorraine, she is clever enough
to see that you did not mean to be disrespectful. But
the will expect you to alter that a great deal if you
ask her to marry you that is, until you are married."
"Have I ever been overbearing to you, Sheila?"
he asked.
"To me? Oh, no. You have always been very
gentle to me; but I know how that is. When you first
ji Princess qf Thule. //. l6
342 A FSUtCESS OF THULE.
kne me, I was almost a chltd, and you Lreated ine
like a cfad; and cva since then it has always been
the same. But to others yes, you are loo uncere-
monioos; and Mrs. Loiraine will expect you to be
mach more mild and amiable, and you must let hei
bave opinions of her own "
-Shea, you give me to underatand that I am 3
bear." he said, in tones of injured protest,
Sheila laughed.
'Have 1 told you the tnith at last? It was no
matter as long as you had oidinary acquaintances to
deal with. But now, if you wish to marry that pretly
lady, you must be much more gentle if you are dis-
cussing anything with her; and if ahe says anything
that is not very wise, you must not say blunlly that it
is foolisb, but you must smooth it away, and pul hef
right geny, and then she will be gratefui to you. But
if you say to her, 'Oh, that is nonsense,' as you might
say to a man, you will hurt her very much. The man
would not care; he would think you were stupid 10
have a difTerent opinion fiom him; but a woman fean
she is not as clever as the man she is talking to, and
likes his good opinion; and if he says something cate-
less like that, she is sensitive to it, and it wounds hei.
To-night yOTi contradicted Mrs. Lonaine aboul the k
in those Italian words; and I am quite sure you weie
wrong. She knows Italian much better than you doj
and yet she ytelded to you very prettily."
"Go on, Sheila; go on," he said, with a resigned
air. "Wbat eise did I dol"
"Oh, a great many rude things. You should nol
have contradicted Mrs. Kavanagh about the colour ot
an amethysti"
"But why) You know she was wrong; and she
4
"IIAME FAIN WOLD I BE." 243
said herseif minute afterwards that she was thinking
of a sapphire."
^'But you ought not to contradict a person older
than yourself," said Sheila, sententiously.
'^Goodness gracious mei Because one person is
bom in one year, and one in another, is that any
reason why you should say that an amethyst is blue)
Mr. Mackenzie, come and talk to this girl. She is try-
ing to pervert my principles. She says that in talking
to a woman you have to abandon all hope of being
accurate, and that respect for the truth is not to be
thought of. Because a woman has a pretty face she
is to be allowed to say that black is white, and white
pea-green. And if you say anything to the contrary,
you are a brte, and had better go and bellow by
yourself in a wildemess."
'^Sheila is quite rights" said old Mackenzie, at a
venture.
''Oh, do you think sol" Ingram asked, coolly.
^Then I can understand how her moral sentiment has
been destroyed; and it is easy to see where she has
got a set of opinions that strike at the very roots of a
respectable and decent society."
"Do you know," said Sheila, seriously, "that it is
very rde of you to say so, even in jesti If you treat
Mrs. Lorraine in this way "
She suddenly stopped. Her father had not heard,
being busy among his pipes. So the subject was dis-
creetly dropped, Ingram reluctantly promising to pay
some attention to Sheila's precepts of politeness.
Altogether, it was a pleasant evening they had;
but when Ingram had left, Mr. Mackenzie said to his
daughter
"Now, look at this, Sheila. When Mr. Ingram goes
r
244 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
away from London, yoa hef no friend at all ien id
tlie place, and you are quite alone. Wliy will you nol
come to the Lewis, Slieila) It is no one there will
know anything of what has happened here; and Main
she is a good girl, and she will hold her tongue."
"They will ask me why I come back vithout my
husband," Sheila said, looking down.
"Oh, you will leave that all to me," said her father,
who knew he had surely sufficient skill to thwart the
curiosity of a few simple creatures in Borva. "There
is many a girl hass to go home for a time, wbe her
husband he is away on bis business; and there will qo
one hef the right to ask. you any moie than I will teil
ihem, and I will teil them what they should know
oh, yes, I will teil them feiry well, and you will hef no
trouble about it. And Sheila, you are a good lass,
and you know that I hef many things to attend to that
is not easy to write about "
"I do know that, Papa," the girl said, "and many
a time have I wished you would go back to the Lewis*
"And leave you here by yourselfl Why, you are
talking foolishly, Sheila, But now, Sheila, you will SK
how you could go back with me, and it would be a
ferry different thing for you running about in the fresh
air than shut up in a room in the middle of a towu.
And you are not looking ferry well, Tay lass, and Scar-
lett she will hef to take the charge of you."
"I will go to the Lewis with you, Papa, when yoB
please," she said; and he was glad and proud lo heac
her decision; but there was no happy light of anti-
cipation in her eyes, such as ought to have been
awakened by this projected joumey to the far island
which she had known as her home.
And so it was, tliat one rougb and bhistering aer-
4
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE.** 245
noon the Clansman steamed into Stornoway harbour;
and Sheila, casting timid and furtive glances towards
the quay, saw Duncan Standing there, with the wag-
gonette some little distance back, under Charge of a
boy. Duncan was a proud man that day. He was
the first to shove the gangway on to the vessel, and
he was the first to get on board; and in another minute
Sheila found the tall, keen-eyed, brown-faced keeper
before her, and he was talking in a rapid and eager
fashion, throwing in an occasional scrap of Gaelic in
the mere hurry of his words.
**0h yes, Miss Sheila, Scarlett she is ferry well
whatever, but there is nothing will make her so well
as your coming back to sa Lewis, and we wass sa3ring
yesterday that it looked as if it wass more as three or
four years, or six years, since you went away from sa
Lewis, but now it iss no time at all, for you are just
the same Miss Sheila as we knew before; and there is
not one in all Borva but will think it iss a good day
tfais day that you will come back "
^Duncan!" said Mackenzie, with an impatient
stamp of his foot, ''why will you talk like a foolish
manl Get the luggage to the shore, instead of keep-
ing US all the day in the boat"
**0h, ferry well, Mr. Mackenzie," said Duncan, de-
parting with an injured air, and grumbling as he went;
^it iss no new thing to you to see Miss Sheila, and you
will have no thocht for anyone but yourself. But I will
get out the luggage oh, yes; I will get out the luggage."
Sheila, in truth, had but lite luggage with her;
but she remained on board the boat until Duncan was
quite ready to Start, for she did not wish just then to
meet any of her friends in Stornoway. Then she
stepped ashore, and crossed the quay, and got into
2-16 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
the waggonetle; and the two horses, whom she had
caressed for a moment, seemed to know that they were
carrying Sheila back to her own countiy, from is
speed with which they rattled out of the town, and
away into the lonely moorland.
Mackeiuie let them have iheir way. Past the soli-
taiy lates they went, past the long Stretches of undu-
laling morass, past the lonely sheings perched far up
on the hls; and the rough and bitistering wind blew
abont them, and ihc grey clouds hurried by, and ihe
old, stiong-bearded man who shook the reins and gave
the horses their heads, could have laughed aloud in
his )oy that be was drivjng bis daughter home. But
Sheila sbe sU ihere as onc dead; and Mairi, timidl;
regarding her, wondered what the impassible face and
the bewildered, sad eyes meant Did she not smell
the sweet strong scent of the heather) Had she no
interest in the greai birds that were circling in theair
over by the Barbbas mountainsJ Where was the ples-
siire she used to exhibit in remembering the curious
namcs of the smaU lakes they passedl
And lo! the rough grey day broke asunder, and a
jjn'al blaze of fire appeared in the wesl, shining across
llic inoors and touching the b!ue slopes of the distant
lijlls. Sheila was getting near to the region of beau-
\VM Mmcts and lambent twilights, and the constaot
SVM^V'Mcnt and mystery of the sea. Oveihead the
tv..^ 1 vloiids were still hurried on by the wind; and
-.;nh Ihc eastero slopes of the hls and ihe
", ,- );i'lting to be of a soft purple; but all
, .. .-.t. where her home was, lay a great flush
,u.l ^lK knew that Loch Roag was shining
' ',^ s^ble of the house at Borvabost getting
. : . l'iMniiful light
^HAME FAIN WOULD I BE.'* 247
'^It IS a good aftemoon 3rou will be getting to see
torva again/' her father said to her; but all the an-
wer she made was to ask her father not to stop at
rarra-na-hina, but to drive straight on to Callemish. She
'ould Visit the people at Garra-na-hina some other day.
The boat was waiting for them at Callemish, and
le boat was the Maighdean-mhara.
"How pretty she isl How have you kept her so
'eil, Duncanf " said Sheila, her face lighting up for the
rst time, as she went down the path to the bright-painted
ttle vessel that scarcely rocked in the water below.
''Bekass we neflfer knew but that it was this week,
r the week before, or the next week you would come
ack, Miss Sheila, and you would want your boat; but
: wass Mr. Mackenzie himself, it wass he that did all
le pentin of the boat, and it iss as well done as Mr.
[cNicol could have done it, and a great deal better
lan that mirover.''
"Won't you steer her yourself, Sheila?" her father
iggested, glad to see that she was at last being in-
nrested and pleased.
"Oh, yes; I will steer her, if I have not forgotten
U the points that Duncan taught me."
''And I am sure you hef not done that, Miss
heila," Duncan said; ''for there wass no one knew
,och Roag better as you, not one, and you hef not
een so long away; and when you tek the tiller in your
and, it will all come back to you just as if you wass
oing away from Borva the day before yesterday."
She certainly had not forgotten; and she was proud
nd pleased to see how well the shapely little craft
erformed its duties. They had a favourable wind,
nd ran rapidly along the opening Channels, until, in
lue course, they glided into the well-known bay over.
24S A PRINCESS OF TKULE.
which, and shining in the yellow light from the'
they saw Shell a's house.
She had escaped so far the trouble of meeting
friends; but she could not escape her friends in Bor-
vabost. They had waited for her for hours, not know-
ing when ihe Clansman might airive at Stomoway;
and now they crowded down to the shore, and therc
was a great sliaking of hands, and an occasional sob
from some old crone, and a thousand repetitions of
the familir "And are you feny well, Miss Sheilal"
from small chiidren who had come across &am Ibc
viljage in defiance of raothers and fathers. And
Sheila's face brightened lato a wooderfnl gladnes^
and she had a hundred questions to ask for one an-
swer she got, and she did not know what to do with
the nuniber of small brown fists that wanted to shake
hands with her.
"Will you let Miss Sheila alonel" Duncan called
out, adding something in Gaelic which came strangely
from a man who sometimes reproved bis own maslH
for swearing. "Get away with you, you brats; it wass
better you would be in your beds tban bothering
people that'wass come all the way from Styomoway."
Then they ali went up in a body to the house; and
Scarlett, who had neither eyes, ears, nor hands bul for
the young girl who had been the very pride of hei
heart, was nigh driven to distraction by Mackenzie's
stoimy demands for oatcake, and glasses, and whisky.
Scarlett angrily remonstrated with her husband for al-
lowing this rabbte of people to interfere with the com-
fort of Miss Sheila; and Duncan, taking her reproaches
with great good-humourj contented himself with doing
her work, and wenl and got the cheese, and the platte
and the whisky, while Scarlett, with a bundred endear-
s
"HAME FAIN WOULD I BE." 249
ing phrases, washelping Sheila totakeoffher travelling
things. And Sheila, it tumed out, had brought wilh her
in her portmanteau certain huge and wonderful cakes,
not of oatmeal, from Glasgow; and these were soon on
the great table in the kitchen, and Sheila herseif distri-
buting pieces to those small folks who were so awe-
stricken by the sight of this strnge dainty, that they
forgot her injunctions and thanked her timidly in Gaelic.
"Well, Sheila, my lass," said her father to her,
is they stood at the door of the house and watched
the troop of their friends, children and all, go over the
hill to Borvabost, in the red light of the sunset, "and
are you glad to be home againi"
"Oh, yes," she said, heartily enough; and Macken-
zie thought that things were going on favourably.
"You hef no such sunsets in the South, Sheila,"
he observed, loftily casting his eye around, althoiigh
he did not usually pay much attention to the pic-
turesqueness of his native island; "now look at the
light there iss on SuainabhaL Do you see the red on
the water down there, Sheilal Oh yes, I thought you
would say it was ferry beautiful it is a ferry good
colour on the water. The water looks ferry we when
it is red. You hef no such things in London not
any, Sheila. Now we must go indoors; for these things
you can see any day here, and we must not keep our
friends waiting."
An ordinary, dull-witted, OT careless man might
have been glad to have a little quiel after so long and
tedious a joumey; but Mr. Mackenzie was no such
person. He had resolved to guard against Sheila's
rst evening at home being in any way languid or
inonolonous; and so he had asked one or two of ' '
especial iends to lemain and have supper with them.
f his J
hem. I
250
Moreover, he did not wish the girl to spend
of the evening out-of-doors, when the melancholy tirac
of the twilight drew over the hills, and the sea began
to sound remote and sad. Sheila should have a coior
fortable evening indoorsj and he would himself, afler
Slipper, when the small parlour was well lit up, sing
forher oneortwo songs, just to keep the thing going, as
it were. He would let nobody eise sing. These Gaelic
songs were not the sort of music to make people
cheerful. And if Sheila herseif would sing for theml
And Sheila did. And her father chose the songs
for her, and they were the blithest he could find, and
the girl seemed really in excellent spirits. They had
their pipes and their hot whisky and watet in this
little parlour; Mr. Mackenzie explaining that although
his daughter was accustomed to spacious and gilded
drawing-rooms where such a thing was impossible,
she would do anything to make her friends welcome
and comfortabte, and they might fill their glasses and
their pipes with irapunity. And Sheila sang again
and again, all cheerful and sensible Engsh song?;
and she listened to the odd jokes and stories her
friends had to teil her; and Mackenzie was delighted
with the success of his plans and precautions. Was
not her very appearance now a triumph) She was
laughing, smiling, talking to everyone; he had not seeo
her so happy for raany a day.
In the midst of it all, when the night had come
on apace, what was this wild skirl outside that made
everybody startl Mackenzie jumped to his feet, with
an angry vow in his heart, that if this "leffle of 1
piper John" should come down the hill playiog
"Lochaber no more" or "Cha tili mi tuilich," or aoy
other nioumful tune, he would have his chanter biokea
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE.** 25 1
in a thousand splinters over his head. But what was the
wild air that came nearer and nearer, until John marched
into the house, and came, with ribbons and pipes, to
the very door of the room which was flung open to
him? Not a very appropriate air, perhaps, for it was
" The CampieO ort eomingr okal ckot
The Cam^ ort Coming^ ohol ohol
The Campbells are Coming to bom^ Lochleoenl
The Cam^a ort Coming, ohol ohoT
but it was, to Mr. Mackenzie's rare deh'ght, a right
good joyous tune, and it was meant as a welcome to
Sheila, and forthwith he caught the white-haired piper
by the Shoulder, and dragged him in, and said
"Put down your pipes and come into the house,
John! Put down your pipes, and tek oflFyour bonnet,
and we shall hef a good dram together this night, by
Kott! And it is Sheila herseif will pour out the
whisky for you, John; and she is a good Highland
girl, and she knows the piper was never bom that
could be hurt by whisky, and the whisky was neflfer
yet made that could hurt a piper. What do you say
to that, John?"
John did not answer; he was Standing before Sheila,
with his bonnet in his hand, but with his pipes still
proudly over his Shoulder. And he took the glass
firom her, and called out ^Shlainte!" and drained every
drop of it out to welcome Mackenzie's daughter home.
CHAPTER XL
The Voyage of the "Phcebe."
It was a cold moming in January, and up here
among the Jura hills the clouds had melted into a
small and chilling rain that feil ceaselessly. The great
**Paps of Jura" were hidden in the mist; even the
Valleys near at hand were vague and dismal in the
Sja A PRINCESS OF THULE.
pale fog; and the Sound of Islay, lying below, and the
far sea beyond, were gradually growing imdistinguish-
able. In a rde little sheJUng, built on one of the
plateaus of rock, Frank Lavender sat alone, listening
to the plashing of the rain without. A rifle Ihat he
had just carefuUy dried lay across his knees. A brace
of deerhounds had stretched out their paws on ihe
earthen fioor, and had put their long noses hetwecn
their paws to produce a little warmth. It was, indeed,
a cold and damp moming; and the little hut was
pervaded with a smeil of wet wood, and also of peat-
ashes, for one of the gillies had tried to light a fire,
but the peats had gone out.
It was Lavender who had let the fire go out. He
had forgotten it. He was thinking of other things
of a song, mostly, that Sheila used to sing; and lines
of it went hither and thither through his brain, as he
tecalled the sound of her voice;
rfa.t.
Ca^liy /iy niei"
There came into the sheiling a little wiry old
keeper, with shaggy grey hair and keen black eyes,
"Cosh blesB me!" he said, petulantly, as he wrung
the rain out of his bonnet, "you hef let the peats go
out, Mr. Lavender, and who will teil when the rain
will go offi"
"It can't last long, Neil. It came on too suddeoly
for that. I thought we were going to get one fine
day when we started this morning; but you don't ofteH
manage that here, Neil."
THE VOYAGE OF THB "PHCEBE.*' ^53
'^Indeed no, sir,'' said Neil, who was not a native
of Jura, and was as eager as anyone to abuse the
weather prevailing there; ''it is a ferty bad place for
the weather. If the Almichty were to tek the sun
away a' tagether, it would be days and weeks and
da3rs before you would find it ooi But it iss a good
thing, sir, you will get the one stag before the mist
came down; and he is not a stag, mirover, but a fine
big hart, and a royal, too, and I hef not seen many
finer in the Jura hills. Oh yes, sir, when he was
Crossing the bum, I made out his points ferry well,
and I wass saying to m3rself, 'Now, if Mr. Lavender
will get this one, it will be a grand day this day, and
it will make up for many a wet day among the hills.' "
"They haven't come back wii the pony yeti''
Lavender asked, la3dng down his gun and going to
the door of the hut
^Oh no," Neil said, following him, ^it iss a long
way to get the powny, and maybe they will stop at
Mr. MacDougall's to hef a dram. And Mr. MacDougall
was sa3dng to me yesterday that the ferry next time
you wass shoot a royal, he would have the homs
dressed and the head stuffed to make you a present,
for he is ferry proud of the picture of Miss Margaret,
and he will say to me man/s sa time that I wass to
gif you the ferry best shooting, and not to be afraid of
disturbing sa deer, when you had a mind to go out
And I am not sure, sir, we will not get another stag
to tek down with us yet, if the wind would carry away
the mist, for the rain that is nearly off now, and as
you are very wet, sir, already, it is no matter if we
go down through the glen and cross the water to get
the side of Ben Bheulalh''
^That is true enough, Neil; and I fancy die clouds
254 ^ PRINCKSS OF THOUt.
are beginning to lift. And there they come with tlie
pony."
Neil directed his glass towards a snoail group that
appeared to be Coming up the side of the valley bekiw
them, and that was still at some considerable distance.
"Cosh bkss me!" he cried, "what is thati There
iss two strangers oh yes, indeed, and mirover and
there is one of them on the pony."
Lavender's heart leaped wiihin him. If they were
strangers, they were Coming to see him; and how long
was it since he had seen the face of any one of his
old frieods and companionsl It seemed to him yeais,
"Is il a man or a woman on the pony, Neil?" he
asked, hurriedly, with some wild fancy flashing through
his brain. "Give me the glass!"
"Oh, it is a man," said Neil, handing over ihe
glass. "What would a woman be doing up sa hills
on a moming like this)"
The small party below came up out of the grey mist;
and Lavender in the distance heard a long view-hidloo.
"Cott tarn them!" said Neil, at aventure, "Thereis
not a deer on Benan Cabrach that will not heartheml"
"But if these strangers are Coming to see me, I fear
we must leave the deer alone, NeiL"
"Ferry well, sir, ferry well, sir, it is a bad daj
whatever; and it is not many strangers will come to
Jura. I suppose they hef come to Port Ascidg, and
taken the ferry across the Sound."
"I am going to meet them on chance," Lavender
said, and he sei off along the side of the deep vaey,
leaving Neil with the dogs and the rifles.
"Hillo, Johnny!" he cried, in amazement, whenhe
came upon the advancing group. "And you, Mosen*
bcrg! By Jove, how did you ever get herel"
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCBE." 255"
^There was an abundance of hand-shaking and in-*-
coherent questions when young Mosenberg jumped
down on the wet heather, and the three friends had
actually met Lavender scarcely knew what to say:
these two faces were so strnge, and yet so familir; their
appearance therewas so unexpected,his pleasure so great.
"I can*t believe my eyes yet, Johnny. Why did
you bring him herel Don't you know what you'll
have to put up with in this place. Well, this does do
a felloVs heart good. I am awfuUy pleased to sec
you, and it is very kind of you "
"But I am very cold," the handsome Jew-boy said,
swinging his arms and stamping his feet. ^'Wet boots,
wet carts, wet roads, wet saddles, and everywhere cold,
cold, cold "
''And he won't drink whisky, so what is he to ex-
pect?" Johnny Eyre said.
**Come along up to a little hut here," Lavender
said, ^'and we'U try to get a fire lit And I have some
brandy there ''
*'And you have plenty of water to mix with it,"
said the boy, looking moumfuUy around. "Very good.
Let US have the fire and the warm drink; and then,
you know the story of the music that was frozen in
the trumpet, and that all came out when it was
thawed at a firel When we get warm we have very
great news to teil you oh, very great news indeed."
"I don't want any news I want your Company,
Come along, like good fellows, and leave the news for
afterwards. The men are going on with a pony to
fetch a stag that has been shot they won't be back
for an hour, I suppose, at the soonest This is the
sheiling up here, where the brandy is secreted. Now,
Neil, help us to get up a blaze. If any of you have
256 A PRINCTISS 07 THULE.
newspapers, letters, or anything that will set 3. feff
sticks on fire "
"1 have a box of wax raatches," Johnny said, "and
I know how to tight a peat-fire better than any nun
in the country."
He was not very successful at first, for the peala
were a trifle damp; but in the end he conquered, and
a very fair blaze was produced, although the smoke
Ihat filled the sheiling had nearly blinded Mosenberg's
eyes, Then Lavender produced a small lin pot and
a solitary tumbler; and they boiled some water, and
tit their pipes, and roade themselves seats of peat round
the fire. Ali thewhile a brisk conversation was going on,
someportionsofwhichastonished Lavender considerably.
For months back, indeed, he had almost cut him-
self off from the civiHzed world, His address was
known to one or two persona; and sometimes ihey
sent bim a letter; but he was a bad correspondeoL
The news of his aunt's death did not reach him tili a
fortnight after the funeral; and then it was by
Singular chaoce that he noticed it in the colurnns of
an old newspaper.
"That is the only thing I regret about Coming
away," he was saying to ihese two friends of bisi "1
should hke to have seen the old woman before she
died. She was very kind to nie."
"Well," Said Johnny Eyre, with a shake of tbe
head, "that is all very weil; but a mere Outsider \&e
myself^you see it looks to me a little unnalural tlial
she should go and leave her money to a mere friendi
and not to her own relations "
"I am very glad she did," Lavender said. "I had
as good as asked her to do it long before. And
Ted Ingram will make a hetter use of it than I ever did."
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 257
"It is all very well for you to say so now, after all
this fuss about those two pictures; but suppose she
had left you to starvel"
"Never mind suppositions/' Lavender said, to get
rid of the subject "Teil me, Mosenberg, how is that
overture of yours getting onl"
"It is nearly finished/' said the lad, with a flush
of pleasure, "and I have shown it in rough to two or
three good friends, and shall I teil you? it may be
performed at the Crystal Palace. But that is a chance.
And the fate of it, iat is also a chance. But you
you have succeeded all at once, and brilliantly, and all
the World is talking of you; and yet you go away
among mountains, and live in the cold and wet, and
you might as well be dead/'
"What an ungrateful boy it is!" Lavender cried.
'*Here you have a comfortable fire, and hot brandy-
and-water, and biscuits, and cigars if you wish; and
you talk about people wishing to leave these things
and die! Don't you know that in half-an-hour's time
you will see that pony come back with a deer a
royal hart slung across it; and won't you be proud
when MacDougall takes you out and gives you a
chance of driving home such a prizel Then you will
carry the homs back to London, and you will have
them put up, and you will discourse to your friends
of the span, and ie pearls of the antlers, and the
crockets? To- night after supper you will see the
homs and the head brought into the room, and if you
fancy that you yourself shot the stag, you will see that
this life among the hls has its compensations."
"It is a very cold life," the lad said, passing hi&
hands over the fire.
"That is because you won't drink anything," said
A truess of Thnle. II. 1 7
Zjg A fHINCESS OF THULE.
Johnny Eyre, a^ainst whom no sadi chatte could be
broughL "And don't you know tbal the diioking of
whisky is a. provision invented by nature to guaid
human beings like you and me from cold and wa\
You are flying in the face of Providence if you dotfl
drink whisky among the Scotch bills."
"And have you people to talk tot" said Mosen-
berg, looking at Lavender with a vagae wonder, for
he could not understand why any man should choose
such a life.
"Not many."
"What do you do on the long evenings whcn you
are by yourself)'*
"Well it tsn't very cheerful; but it does a man
good Service sometimes to be alone for a titne; il leti
him find himself ouL"
"You ought to be up in London, to have all ihe
praise of the people about your two pictures. Eveiy-
one is talking of them; the newspapers, too haveyott
Seen the newspapers)"
"One or two. But all I know of these two pictor
is derived from ofTers forwarded me by the Secretaiy
at the Exhibition Rooms. I was surprised when I got
them at first. But never mind them. Teil me moro
about the people one used to know. What about In-
gram now) Has he cut the Board of Tradel Do
he drive in the Parkt Is he still in his rooms in
Sloane Street?"
"Then you have had no letters from himt" Mosen-
berg said, with some surprise.
"No. Probably he does not know where I am. lo
any case "
"But he is going to be marriedl" Mosenber;
cried. " You did not know thatt And to Mrs. Lonainel'
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE.'' 259
"You don't say so! Why, he used to hate her
but that was before he knew her. To Mrs. Lorrainel"
''Yes. And it is amusing. She is so proud of
him. And if he speaks at the table, she will tum
away from you, as if you were not worth listening to,
and have all her attention for him. And whatever is
bis opinion, she will defend that, and you must not
disagree with her oh, it is very amusing!'* And the
lad laughed, and shook back his curls.
''It is an odd thing," Lavender said; ''but many a
time, long before Ingram ever saw Mrs. Loiraine, I
used to imagine these two married. I knew she was
just the sort of clever, independent, dear-headed wo-
man, to see Ingram's strong points, and rate them at
their proper value. But I never expected anything of
the sort, of course; fbr I had always a notion that
some day or other he would be led into marrying
some pretty, gentle, and soft-headed young thing,
whom he would have to take through life in a pro-
tecting sort of way, and who would never be a real
companion for him. So he is to marry Mrs. Lorraine,
after all! Well, he won't become a man of fashion,
despite all his money. He is sure to start a yacht, for
one thing. And they will travel a deal, I suppose. I
must write and congratulate him."
"I mct him on the day I went to see your pic*
ture," Mosenberg said. "Mrs. Lorraine was looking at
it a long time, and at last she came back and said,
'The sea in that picture makes me feel cold.' That
was a compliment, was it not? Only you cannot get
a good view very often; for the people will not stand
back from the pictures. But everyone asks why you
did not keep these two over for the Academy."
"I shall have other two for the Academy, I hope.''
200 A PBINCESS OF THUI-E.
"Commiasionsl" Johnny askisd. with a practical i.
"No. I have had some offers; but I prefer to kae
the thiog open. But you have not told me how jou
got here yet," Lavender added, continually Ijreatnig
away trora this subject of ihe pictures.
"In the Phehe" Eyre said.
"Is she in the bayl"
"Oh no. We had to leave her at Port Etkn t9
gel a fcw small repairs done, and Mosenberg and I
came on by road to Port Ascaig. Mind you, she ws
quiie small enough to come round the Mull at this
lime of the year."
"I should think so. Whafs your crewt"
"Two men and a lad, besides Mosenberg and raf-
self, aod I can teil you we had our hands fuU sometitaej."
"You've given up open boats with stone balkst
DOW," Lavender said, with a laugh.
"Rather, BuC it was no laughing matter," Ejie
added, with a sudden gravity Coming over his fact
"It was the nairowest squeak I ever had, and I dodl
know now how I clung on to that place tili the da|
broke. When I came to myseif and called out f
you, I never expected to hear you answer; and in ihe
daikness, by Jove! your voice sounded like the toi
of a ghost. How you managed to drag me so fai op
that seaweed I can't iiaagine; and then the dipping
down and under Ihe boat "
^It was that dip down that saved me," Laveada
said. "It brought me to; and made me scramble ke
a rat tip the other side as soon as I feit my basds oa
die roi again. It was a narrow squeak, as you s.j,
Johnny, Do you remember how black the place
looked when the first light began to show la ibe Afi
and how we kept each oiher av.'ake by calliog; xnd
THE VOYAGE OF THE *'PHCEBE." 201
how you called *hurrah!* when we heaxd Donald; and
how Strange it was to find ourselves so near the mouth
of the harbour, after all? During the night I fancied we
must have been thrown on Battie Island, you know '*
"I do not like to hear about that," young Mosen-
berg Said. "And always, if the wind came on strong,
or if the skies grew black, Eyre would teil me all
the Story over again when we were in this boat Com-
ing down by Arran and Cantyre. Let us go out and
see if they come with the deer. Hasthe rain stoppedl"
At this moment, indeed, sounds of the approaching
party were heard, and when Lavender and his friends
went to the door, the pony, with the deer slung on to
him, was just coming up. It was a sufficiently pic-
turesque sight the rde little sheiling with its peat-
fire, the brown and wiry gillies, the slain deer roped
on to the pony, and all around the wild magnificence
of hill and Valley clothed in moving mists. The rain
had, indeed, cleared ofif; but these pale white fogs still
clung around the mountains, and rendered the Valleys
vague and shadowy. Lavender informed Neil that he
would make no further efifort that day; he gave the
men a glass of whisky all round; and then, with his
friends, he proceeded to make his way down to the
small white cottage fronting the Sound of Islay, which
had been his home for months back.
Just before setting ofif, however, he managed to take
young Mosenberg aside for a moment
"I suppose," he said, with his eyes cast down,"
I suppose you heard something from Ingram of of
Sheilar*
"Yes," said the lad, rather bashfully. "Ingram had
heard from her. She was still in Lewis."
"And well?"
j6 a princess of tuvle.
"I ihink so; yes," said Mosenberg; and Ihen lie
added, with sonie hesilation, "1 should like to speJt
to you about it when we have the opportiiiiit)r. liiere
were some things that Mr. Ingram said I am suie he
would like you to know them."
"Tbere was no message to me]" Lavender asked,
in a low voice,
"From herl No. But it was the opinion of Mf.
Ingram "
"Oh, never mind that, Mosenberg," said the Otha,
tUToing away wearily. "I suppose you won't find it
too fatiguing to walk from here back) It will wann
you, you know; and the old woman dowo ihere will
get you someihing to eaL You may make it luncheoii
or dinner, as you like, for it will be oearly two by lh(
time you get down. Then you can go for a prowl
ronnd the coast; if it does not rain, I shall be wotting
as long as there is daylight. Then we can have
dinner and supper combined in the evening. Von w5
get venison and whisky."
"Don't you ever have anything eise?"
"Oh yes. The venison will be in honour of you.
I generally have mutton and whisky."
"Look here, Lavender," the lad said, with con-
siderable confusion, "the fact is Eyre and 1 we
brought you a few things in the Phnbe a lite winft
you know, and some such things. To-morrow, if you
could get a messenger to go down to Port Ellen- but nH
I suppose we must go and work the boat up the Sound.'
"If you do that, 1 must go with you," LavendS
said, "for the chances are that your skipper doesa^
know the currents in the Sound, and they are raier
peculiar, I can teil you. So Johnny and you ha
brought me some wine. I wish we had it now, W
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHOEBE.'' 263
celebrate your airival; for I am afraid I can ofFer you
nothing but whisky."
The old Highland woman who had charge of the
odd little cottage in which Lavender lived was put
into a State of violent constemation by the arrival of
these two strangers; but as Lavender said he would
sleep on a couple of chairs, and give his bed to Mo-
senberg, and the sofa to Eyre, and as Mosenberg de-
clred that the house was a marvel of neatness and
comfort, and as Johnny assured her that he had fre-
quently slept in a herring-barrel, she grew gradually
pacified. There was little difficulty about plates and
knives and forks at luncheon, which consisted of cold
mutton and two bottles of ale that had somehow been
overlooked; but aU these minor inconveniences were
soon smoothed over; and then Lavender, carrying his
canvas under his arm, and a portable easel over his
Shoulder, went down to the shore, bade his companions
good-bye for a couple of hours, and left them to ex-
plore the winding and rocky coast of Jura,
In the evening they had dinner in a small parlour,
which was pretty well fiUed with a ehest of drawers, a
sofa, and a series of large canvasses. There was a
peat-fire buming in the grate, and two candles on the
table; but the small room did not get oppressively
bot, for each time the door was opened a draught of
cold sea-air rushed in from the passage, sometimes
blowing out one of the candles, but always sweetening
the atmosphere. Then Johnny had some fine tobacco
with him; and Mosenberg had brought Lavender a
present of a meerschaum pipe; and presently a small
kettle of hot water was put in requisition, and the
friends drew round the fire.
"Well, it is good of you to come and see a fellow
2bi A PR1XCE5S OF THULE.
like thts," Lavender said, with a very appaieot 3nd
hear^ gtaiUude in bis face; "I can scarcely believe
my eyes [hat It is true. Aad can you make any stay,
Johnnyl Have you brought your colours with youV
"Oh no, I don't mean lo work," Johnny said. "I
have always had a fancy for a mid-winter cxuise. It's
a hardening sort of thing, you know. You soon ^
used lo it, don't you, Mosenbergl"
And Johnny grinned.
"Noi yet I may afterwards," said the lad. "But
al presenl this is more comfortable than being on deck
al night when it rains and you know not whcre you
are going."
"But thal was only your own perveisity. You might
just as well have stopped in the cabin and played that
cornopean, and made youiself warm and comfortable.
Really, Lavender, it's very good fun; and if you only
watch for decent weather, you can go anywhere.
Fancy our Coming round the Mull with the Fiaii
yesterday! And we had quite a pleasant trip aaoa
to Islay."
"And where do you propose to go after leaving
Jura!" Lavender asked.
"Well, you know, the main object of our crutse
was to come and see you. But if you care to com
with US for a few days, we will go wherever you like."
"If you are going further north, I must go wili
you," Lavender said, "for you are bound to drowa
yourself some day, Johnny, if some one doesn't lake
care of you."
There was no deep design in this project of Johnn/s;
but he had had a vague impression that Lavender
might like to go north, if only to have a paing
glimpse at ihe Island he used to know.
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 265
"One of my fellows is well acquainted with the
Hebrides," he saidj "if you don*t think it too much
of a risk, I should like it myself; for those northem
Islands must look uncommonly wild and savage in
winter; and one likes to have new experiences. Fancy,
Mosenberg, what material you will get for your next
piece it will be fll of storms, and seas, and thunder
you know how the wind whistles through the over-
ture to the Diamants de la Couronne "
"It will whistle through us," said the boy, with an
anticipatory shiver; "but I do not mind the wind if it
is not wet It is the wet that makes a boat so dis-
agreeable everything is so cold and clammy-^you
can touch nothing, and when you put your head up
in the morning pah! a dash of rain and mist, and
salt water altogether gives you a shock "
"What made you come round the Mull, Johnny,
instead of cutting through the Crinani" Lavender
asked of his friend.
"Well,'' said the youth, modestly, "nothing except
that two or three men said we couldn't do it"
"I thought so," Lavender said. "And I see I must
go with you, Johnny. You must play no more of these
tricks. You must watch your time, and run her quietly
up the Sound of Jura to Crinan; and watch again and
get her up to Oban; and watch again and get her up
to Loch Sligachan. Then you may consider. It is quite
possible you may have fine, clear weather if there is
a moderate north-east wind blowing "
"A north-east wind!" Mosenberg cried.
"Yes," Lavender replied, confidently, for he had
not forgotten what Sheila used to teach him; "that is
your only chance. If you have been living in fog for
a fortnight, you will never forgel yoxa ^^JiXxi N ^
P !
266 A rr.isCTiss OF niLXE. 1
north -easter when it suddenly sets in to lift the douds
and show you a bit of blue sky. But it may knock us
aboui a bit in crossing the Minch,"
"We have come round the Mull, and we can go
anywhere," Johnny said. "I'd back the Phsbe to talce
you safely to the West In dies; wouldn'l you, Mosenbcigl"
"Oh no," the boy said. "I would back her to lake
you, not to take me."
Two or three days thereafter the Pkabc was brought
up the Sound from Port Ellen, and such things as
were meant as a present to Lavender were landed.
Then the three friends embarked; for the weather had
clcared considerably, and there was, indeed, when ihe/
set out, 3 pale, winlry sunshine gleaming on the sea,
and on the white deck and spars of the handsonW
little Cutter which Johnny commanded. The Phnii
was certainly a g^eat improveraent on the crank crafi
in which he used to adventure bis life on Loch Fyne;
Ishe was big enough, indeed, to give plenty of work to
everybody on board of her, and when once shc haiJ
got into harbour, and things put to rights, her chief
I state-room proved a jolly and comfortable little place-
enough. They had some pleasant evenings in thia
way after the work of the day was over; when the
swinging lamps shone down on the table that waj
fumished with wine-glasses, bottlcs, cigars, and cards
Johnny was very proud of being in command, and of
his exploit in doubling the Mull. He was continually
Consulting charts and compasses, and going on dedt
to communicate his last opinion to his skipper, Mo-
senberg, too, was gctting better accustomed to the
hardships of yachting, and leaming how to secare
fair amount of comfort. Lavender never said that he
wisbed to go near Lewis; but there was a soit of cil
TUE VOVAGE OF THE "PHCF.BE/* 267
understanding that their voyage should tend in that
direction.
They had a little rough weather on reaching Skye,
and, in consequence, remained in harbour a couple of
days. At the end of that time a happy opportunity
presented itself of cutting across the Little Minch
the Great Minch was considered a trifle risky to Loch
Maddy in North Uist They were now in the Western
Islands; and Strange indeed was the appearance which
the bleak region presented at this time of the year
the lonely coasts, the multitudes of wild fowl, the half-
savage, wondering inhabitants, the treeless wastes, and
desolate rocks. What these remote and melancholy
Islands might have looked like in fog and misty rain
coold only be imagined, however; for fortunately, the
longed-for north-easter had set in, and there were wan
glimmerings of sunshine across the sea and the solitary
shores. They remained in Loch Maddy but a single
day; and then, still favoured by a brisk north-east
breeze, made their way through the Sound of Harris,
and got to leewaxd of the conjoint island of Harris
and Lewis. There, indeed, were the great mountains
which Lavender had seen many a time from the north;
and now they were close at hand, and dark, and for-
bidding. The days were brief at this time, and they
were glad to put into Loch Resort, which Lavender
had once seen in Company with old Mackenzie, when
they had come into the neighbourhood on a salmon-
fishing excursion.
The Phcbe was at her anchorage, the clatter on
deck over, and Johnny came below to see what sort
of repast could be got for the evening. It was not a
very grand meal, but he said
"I propose that we have a bottle of Champagne to
i
268 A PHIXCTSS OF TBULE.
celebrate out aitival at the island of Lewis. Did yva
cver see anythiiig more saccessfuIlT- donel And no,
if this wind conlinues, wc can creep np to-mom) W
Loch Roag, Lavender, if you woold like to have a
look at it"
For a iDoment the colour forsook Lavendet's hct.
"No, thank you, Johnny," he was about to s^, wheit
his rriend interrupied him.
"Look here, Lavender; I know you would like I0
see Ihe place, and you can do ii eastly without being
Seen. No one knows me. When we ancbor in the
bay, I suppose Mr. Mackeozie as is ihe hospitable
and praiseworthy custom of these parts will send 1
message to the yacht and ask us to dine with bim. I,
at any rate, can go up and call on him, and make
excuses for you; and then I could teil jrou, yoa
know "
Johnny hesitated.
"Would you do that for me, Johnnyl" Lavendel
said. "Well, you are a good fellow."
"Oh," Johnny said, lightly, "il's a capital adven-
ture for me; and perhaps I could ask Mackenzie Mti
Mackenzie, I beg your pardon to let me have two
or three ciay pipes, for this brier root is rapidly going
to the devil."
"He will give you anything he has in the house;
you never saw such a hospitable fcUow, Johnny. Bul
you must take great care what you do."
"You tnist to me. In the meantime, lefs see what
Pate knows about Loch Roag."
Johnny called down his skipper, a |bluff, short, red-
faced man, whopresently appeared, his cap in his band
"Will you have a glass of Champagne, Pate)"
"Oh, ay, sir," he said, not vcry eagerly.
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 269
"Would you rather have a glass of whiskyl"
"Well, sir," Pate said, in accents that showed that
his Highland pronunciation had been corrupted by
many years' residence in Greenock, "I was thinkin' the
whisky was a wee thing better for ye on a cauld nicht."
"Here you are, then. Now, teil me, do you know
Loch Roagl"
"Oh, ay, fine. Many's the time I hiv been in to
Borvabost"
"But," said Lavender, "do you know the Loch it-
selfl Do you know the bay on which Mackenzie's
house Stands)"
"Weel, Fm no sae sure about that, sir, But if ye
want to gang there, we can pick up some bit body at
Borvabost that will tak' us round."
"Well," Lavender said, "I think I can teil you how
to go. I know the Channel is quite simple there are
no rocks about and once you are round the point
you will see your anchorage."
"Ifs twa or three years since I was there, sir,"
Pate remarked, as he put the glass back on the table;
^I mind there was a daft auld man there that played
the pipes."
"That was old John the Piper!" Lavender said.
**Don't you remember Mr. Mackenzie, whom they call
the King of Borval"
"Weel, sir, I never saw him, but I was aware he
was in the place. I have never been up here afore
wi' a party o' gentlemen, and he wasna coming down
to see the like o' us."
With what a strnge feeling Lavender beheld, the
following aftemoon, the opening to the great Loch
that he knew so well. He recognized the various
rocky promontories, the Gaelic names of which Sheila
r
270 A PBlSiCfiSS UF THULE,
had Iranslalcd for him. Down there in the soulh
were Ihe great hdghts of Suainabhal, and Cracabhal,
and MeaUsabhal. Right in front was the sweep of
Borvabost Bay, and its huts, and its sniaU gardeo
palchea; and up beyond it was the hill on v" '
Sheila used to sit in the evening, to walch the sun go
down behind the Atlantic. It was like entering again
a World with which he had once been familir, and
in which he had left behind a peaceful happiness he
had sought in vain elsewhere. Somehow, as the yachl
dipped to the waves, and slowly made her way ioto
the loch, it seemed to him that he was Coming hoine
^that he was retuming to the old and quiet Joys he
liad experienced there that all Ihe past time ih
had darkened his life was now to be removed.
when, at last, he saw Mackenzie's house high
there over the tiny bay, a strnge thrill of excitement
passed through him, and that was followed by a coli
feeling of despair, which he did not seek to remove.
He stood on the companion, his head onty being
visible, and directed Pate irntil the Phabe had ar-
rived at her moorings; and then he went below. He
had looked wistfully for a time up to the Square, datt
house, with its scarlet copings, in the vague hope d
seeing some figure he knew; but now, sick at heai(
and fearing that Mackenzie might make him 00t witfc
a glass, he sat down in the state-room, alone,
silent, and miserable.
He was startled by the sound of oars, and got oJK
and listened. Mosenberg camc down and said
'Mr. Mackenzie has sent a taJl, thin man do yoo
know him? to see who we are, and whether we will
go up to his house."
"Wat did Eyte sayV
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHOEBE." 27I
"I don't know. I suppose he is going."
Then Johnny himself came below. He was a
sensitive young fellow; and at this moment he was
very confused, excited, and nervous.
"Lavender," he said Stammering somewhat, "I
am going up now to Mackenzie's house. You know
whom I shall see. Shall I take any message if I'
see a chance if your name is mentioned a hint, you
know "
"Teil her," Lavender said, with a sudden pallor
of determination in his face: but he stopped, and said
abruptly, "Never mind, Johnny. Don't say anything
about me."
"Not to-night, anyway," Johnny said to himself, as
he drew on his best blue jacket, with its shining brass
buttons, and went up the companion to see if the
small boat was ready.
Johnny had had a good deal of knocking about
the Western Highlands, and was familir with the
frank and ready hospitality which the local lairds
more particularly in the remote islands, where a
stranger brought recent newspapers and a breath of
the outer world with him granted to all comers who
bore with them the credentials of owning a yacht But
never before had he gone up to a strnge house with
such perturbation of spirit He had been so anxious,
too, that he had left no time for preparation When
he Started up the hill, he could see, in the gathering
dusk, that the tall keeper had just entered the house,
and when he arrived there, he found absolutely nobody
about the place.
In orcQnary circumstances he would simply have
walked in, and called some one from the kitchen. But
he now feit himself somewhat of a spy; and was not
;2 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
3. little afraid or meedng the handsome Mrs. Lavfnder,
of whom he had heard so much. There was no lighl
io the passage; but theie was a bright-red gloom In
oae of the windows, and, almost inadverteQtly, hc
glanced in there. What was iis strnge pictuie he
sawl The red flanie of the fire showed him the grand
figuies on the walls of Shea's diniDg-room, asd Ht
up Ihe white lable-covcr and ihe crystal in the raiddlc
of the apartmenl. A beautiful young girl, clad ina
tight blue dress, had just risen from beside the fire W
lighl two candles thal were on the table; and Ihen she
went back to her seat, and took up her sewing, bui
not to sew. For Johnny saw her gently kneel down
beside a little bassinet that was a mass of wonderful
pink and white, and he supposed the door in the pas-
sage was opec, for he could hear a low voice hum-
ming some luUaby-song, sung by the young molher
to her child. He went back a step, bewdered bf
what he had seen. Could he fly down to the shore,
and bring Lavender up (o look at this picture through
the window, and beg of him to go in and thro
himself on her forgiveness and mercy? He had noi
time to think twice. At this rooment Main appeaKi)
in the dusky passage, looking a Uttle scared, althougb
ahe did not drop the plates she carried.
"Oh, sir, and are you the gentleman that has conis
in the yacht) And, Mv. Mackenzie, he is upstairs jusl
now, but he will be down ferry soon; and will you
come in and speak to Miss Sheila?"
"Miss Sheila?" he repeated to himself, with amaxe-
ment; and the next moment he found himself before
this beautiful young girl, apologizing to her, stamma-
ing, and wishing that he had never undenaken sudit
task, whik he kncw that all the time she was r^aid*
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 273
ing him with her large, calm, and gene eyes, and thal
tliere was no trace of embarrassment in her manner.
"Will you take a seat by the fire until papa comes
downl" she said. "We are very glad to have anyone
come to see us; we do not have many visitors in the
winter."
"But I am afraid/' he stammered, "I am putting
you to trouble ** and he glanced at the swinging
pink and white couch.
"Oh no," Sheila said, with a smile, "I was just
about to send my little boy to bed."
She lifted the sleeping child and rolled it in some
cnormous covering of white and silken-haired fr, and
gave the small bndle to Mairi to carry to Scarlett.
"Stop a bitr* Johnny called out to Mairi; and the
girl Started and looked round, whereupon he said to
Sheila, with much blushing, "Isn't there a superstition
about an infant waking to find silver in its hand) I
am sure you wouldn't mind my *'
"He cannot hold anything yet," Sheila said, with
a smile.
"Then, Mairi, you must put this below his piUow
is not that the same thing for luckl" he said, ad-
dressing the young Highland girl as if he had known
her all his life; and Mairi went away proud and pleased
to have this precious bndle to carry, and talking to
it with a thousand soft and endearing phrases in her
native tongue.
Mackenzie came in, and found the two talking to-
gether.
"How do you do, sirl" he said, with a grave
courtesy. "You are ferry welcome to the island, and
if there is anything you want for the boat, you will hef
it from US. She is a liille thing to hef come so far."
A Princess 0/ Thule //. iS
I
Iloft;
abo
274 A PRINCESS or TIIULE.
"She's not very big," Johnny said, "but she's a
thorough good sailor; and ihcn we walch our timt,
you know, BqI I don't ihink we shall go furlhet
north than Lewis."
"Hef you no friends on board with youl" Mac-
ke nzie asked.
"Oh yes," Johnny answered; "two. But we
not wish to invade your house in a body. To-mor-
row "
"To-morrowt" said Mackenzie, impaticntly. '^No,
but to-nigbt! Duncan, come here! Duncan, go doim
to the boat that has just come in and teil the gentle-
men "
"I beg your pardon, sir," Johnny cried, "but my
two friends are regularly done up ^tired^they wert
just going to turn in when I left the yacht. To-raonow,
now, you will see them "
"Oh, ferry weU, ferry well," said Mackenzie, who
had hoped to have a big dinner-party for Shcila^
amusement "In any way, you will slop and hef some
dinneri It is just ready oh, yes and it is not 1
ferry fine dinner; but it will be different from yoiu
cabin for you to sit ashore."
"Well, if you will excuse me," Johnny was abool
to say, for he was so fll of the news that he had to
teil that he would have sacrificed twenty dinneis
have got off at this moroent. But Mr. Mackeniit
would take no denial. An additional cover was taid fot-
the stranger, and Johnny sat down to stare at Shei
in a furtive way, and to talk to her father about
thing that was happening in the great world.
'And what now is this," said Mackenzie, with
lofty and careless air, "what is this I see in the papti
about pictuies painted by a gentleman called Laven-
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 275
derl I hev a great interest in these exhibitions: per-
haps you hev seen the picturesi"
Johnny blushed very red; but he hid his face over
his plate; and presently he answered, without daring
to look at Sheila
"I should think I have seen them! Why, if you
care for coast landscapes, I can teil you you never
saw such thorough good work all your life! Why,
everybod/s talking of them you never heard of a man
making such a name for hunself in so short a time/'
He ventured to look up. There was a strnge,
proud light in the girl's face; and the effect of it on
this bearer of good tidings was to make him launch
into such praises of these pictures as considerably
astonished old Mackenzie. As for Sheila, she was
proud and happy, but not surprised. She had known
in all along. She had waited for it patiently, and it
had come at last, although she was not to share in his
triumph.
"I know some people who know him," said Johnny,
who had taken two or three glasses of Mackenzie's
Sherry, and feit bold; ^'and what a shame it is he
should go away from all his friends and almost cease
to have any communication with them. And then,
of all the places in the world to spend a winter in,
Jura is about the very ''
''Jura!" said Sheila, quickly, and he fancied that
her face paled somewhat.
"I believe so," he said; "somewhere on the westem
coast, you know, over the Sound of Islay."
Sheila was obviously very much agitated; but her
father said in a careless way, "Oh yes, Jura is not a
ferry good place in the winter. And the west side
you saidl Ay, there are not many houses on the west
i8
276 A PR1XCE3S OP THULE.
side; it is not a feny good place to live in. Bali
will be ferry cheap, whatever."
"1 don't think that is the reason of his Uving there,"
Said Johnny, wich a laugh.
"But," Mackenzie urged, rather anxiously, "yon
wass not saying he would get much for these picturesl
Oh no, who will give much money for pictures of
rocks and seaweedl Oh no!"
"Oh, won'l they, Ihoughl" Johnny cried. *T]iey
give a good deal raore for that sort of picture now
than for the old-fashioned cottage-scenes, wjth a young
lady, dressed in a drugget petticoat and a pink jcfcet,
sitting peeling potatoes. Don't you make any misUie
about that, The public is beginning to leam wbal red
good work is, and, by Jove, don't they pay for it, tof
Lavender got 800/. for the smaller of the two picliir
I told you about."
Johnny was beginning to forget that the knowiedge
he was showing of Frank Lavender's affairs was suspi'
ciously min Ute.
"Oh no, sir," Mackenzie said, wlth a frown.
is all nonsense the stories that you hear. I hef lud
great experience of these exhibitions. I hef beeo W-
London several times, and every lime I wass in the
Exhibitions."
"But I should know something of it, too; for I
an arrisl myself."
"And do you get 800/. for a small picture!" Mac-
kenzie asked, severely.
"Well, no," Johnny said, with a laugh. "But theo
I am a duffer."
After dinner, Sheila left the room; Johnny faacied
he knew where she was going. He piiUed in a chlir
lo tlie fire, lit his pipe, and said he would havc but
THE VOYAGE OF THE "PHCEBE." 277
one glass of toddy, which Mackenzie proceeded to
make for him. And then he said to the old King of
Borva
"I beg your pardon, sir; but will you allow me to
suggest that that young girl who was in here before
dinner should not call your daughter Miss Sheila be-
fore strangers 1"
"Oh, it is very foolish!" said Mackenzie, *'but it is
an old habit, and they will not stop it And Duncan,
he is worse than anyone."
"Duncan, I suppose, is the tall fellow who waited
at dinner 1"
"Oh aye, that is Duncan."
Johnn/s ingenious bit of stratagem had failed. He
wanted to have old Mackenzie call his daughter Mrs.
Lavender, so that he might have had occasion to open
the question and plead for his friend. But the old
man resolutely ignored the relationship between La-
vender and his daughter, so far as this stranger was
concemed; and so Johnny had to go away partly dis-
appointed.
But another opportunity might occur; and in the
meantime was not he canying rare news down to the
Phcebe? He had lingered too long in the house; but
now he made up for lost time, and once or twice
nearly missed his footing in running down the steep
path. He had to find the small boat for himself, and
go out on the slippery stones and seaweed to get into
her. Then he puUed away from the shore, his oars
striking white fire into the dark water, the water
gtirgling at the bow. Then he got into the shadow
of tibe black hll of the yacht, and Pate was there to
lower the little gangway.
When Johnny stepped on deck, he paused, in con-
578 A 1RINCESS OF THULfi.
siderable doubt as to what he should do. He wished
to bave a word with Lavender alone; how could he
go down with such a message as he had to deliver
to a couple of fellows probably smoking and playing
chessf
*Pate,*' he said, "teil Mr. Lavender I want him to
come on deck for a minute."
eile's by himsd', sir," Pate said. "He's been sit-
ting by himsd' for the last hour. The young gentle-
man's lain doon."
Johnny went down into the little cabin; Lavender,
who had neither book, nor cigar, nor any other sign
of occupation near him, seemed in his painful anxiety
almost incapable of asking the question that rose to
his lips,
Have you seen her, Johnny 1" he said, at length,
with his face looking strangely carewom.
Johnny was an impressionable young fellow. There
were tears running freely down his cheeks, as he said
"Yes, I have, Lavender; and she was rocking a
rhild in a cradle."
CHAPTER XII.
Redintegratio Amoris.
Tu AT same night Sheila dreamed a strnge dream;
and it seemed to her that an angel of God came to
her, and stood before her, and looked at her with his
shining face and his sad eyes. And he said, ^' Are you
a woman^ anJ yei slow to forgive? Are you a mother,
and have you no love for the father of your chd?^* It
seemed to her that she could not answer. She feil on
her knees before him, and covered her face with her
lv;uids, and wept. And when she raised her eyes again,
Ove uui^cl was gone; and in his place Ingram was tliere,
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 27g
stretching out his hand to her, and bidding her rise
and be comforted. Yet he, too, spoke in the same
reproachful tones, and said
"What would become of us all, Sheila, if none of
our actions were to be condoned by time and repent-
ance) What would become of us if we could not say,
at some particular point of our lives, to the bygone
time, that we had left it, with all its errors, and blun-
ders, and follies, behind us, and would, with the help
of God, Start clear on a new sort of lifel What would
it be if there were no forgetfulness for any of us no
kindly veil to come down and shut out the memory of
what we have done if the staring record were to be
kept for ever before our eyesi And you are a woman,
Sheila it should be easy for you to forgive, and to
encourage, and to hope for better things of the man
you love. Has he not suffered enoughl Have you
no Word for himi"
The sound of her sobbing in the night-time brought
her father to the door. He tapped at the door, and
said
"What is the matter, Sheilal*'
She awoke with a slight cry; and he went into the
room and found her in a strangely troubled State, her
hands outstretched to him, her eyes wet and wild.
"Papa, I have been very cruel. I am not fit to
live any more. There is no woman in the world would
have done what I have done."
"Sheila!" he said, "you hef been dreaming again
about all that foUy and nonsense. Lie down, like a
good lass. You will wake the boy if you do not lie
down and go to sleep; and to-morrow we will pay a
visit to the yacht that hass come in, and you will ask
the gentlemen to look at the Maighcan-mhara,^*
jBo A PRTOCE-SS r\f xm'LE.
"Papa," she said, "to-monow I want yon to taie
me to Jura."
"To Jura, Sheal You cannot go to Jura! You
cannot leave the baby with Mairi, Sheila."
"1 will take him with me," she said,
"Oh, it is not possible al all, Sheila. Bul I will
go to Jura. Oh yes, I will go to Jura. Indeed, I was
thinking last night that I would go to Jura."
"Oh Tio,jou must not go," she cried. "You would
speak harshly -and he is very proud and we shoald
never see each other again. Papa, I know you will
do this for me you will let me go "
"It is foolish of you, Sheila," her father saJd, 'to
ihink that I do not know how to arrange such a thing
wiihoul making a quarrel of iL Hut you will see
about it in the moming. Just now, you will He dcwo.
like a good lass, and go to sleep. So good night,
Sheila, and do not think of it any more tili the moio-
ing."
She thought of it all through the night, however.
She thought of her sailing away down through ihe
cold wintry seas to search that lonely coasL Woidd
the grey dawn break with snow; or would the kindly
heavens lend her some fair sunlight as she sct fordi
on her lonely quest) And all the night through she
accused herseif of being hard of heart; and blamed
herseff, iodeed, for all ihal had happened in the by-
gone time. Just as the day was Coming in she feil
asleep; and she dreamed that she went to the angel
whom she had seen before, and knelt down at his feet,
and repeated in some vagUe way the promises she
had made on her marriage moming. With her beid
bent down, ehe said that she would live and die a liue
wife, if only another Chance were given her. 'iTw
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 28 1
angel answered nothing; but he smiled with his sad
eyes, and put his hand for a moment oh her head,
and then disappeared. When she woke Maki was in
the room, silently stealing away the child; and the
white daylight was clear in the Windows.
She dressed with trembling hands, and yet there
was a faint sufTused sense of joy in her heart. She
wondered if her father would keep to his promise of
the night before, or whether it had been made to get
her to rest In any case, she knew that he could not
refuse her much; and had not he himself said that he
intended going away down to Jura?
"Sheila, you are not looking well this moming/'
her father said; "it is foolish of you to lie awake and
think of such things. And as for what you wass say-
ing about Jura, how can you go to Jura? We hef no
boat big engh for that. I could go oh yes, I
could go but thfe boat I would get at Stomoway you
could not go in it at all, Sheila; and as for the
baby ''
"But then, Papa,'' she said, "did not the gentleman
who was here last night say they were going back by
Jura) And it is a big yacht; and he has only two
friends on board. He might take us down."
"Ym cannot ask a stranger, Sheila. Besides, the
boat is too small a one for this time of the year. I
should not like to see you go in her, Sheila"
**I have no fear," the girl said.
"No fear!" her father said, impatiently. "No, of
course you hef no fear that is the mischief. You
will tek no care of yourself whatever."
"When is the young gentleman coming up this
moming?"
"Ohy he will not come up again tili J go down.
r
283 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
Will you go down to the boats, Sheila, and go on
board of her!"
Sheila assented; and some half hoor thereafter she
stood at the door, clad in her tight-fittiug blue serge,
with the hat and sea-gull's wing over her splendid
masses of hair. Il was an angry-looking moming
enough; rags of grey cloud were being hurried pasi
the Shoulders of Suainabhal; a heavy surf was beating
on the shore.
"There is going to be rain, Sheila," her father said,
snielling the moisture in the keen air. "Will you
your waterproof?"
"Oh no " she said; "if I am to nieel strangers, l
cannot wear a waterproof."
The Sharp wind had brought back the colour ti
her cheeks; and there was some gladness in her eyes.
She knew she mighi have a fight for it, before slie
could persuade her father to set sa in this strnge
boat; but she never doubted for a moment recolleel-
ing the gentle face and modest manner of the youlhfui
owner that he would be really glad to do her a Ser-
vice, and she knew that her father's Opposition would
give way.
"Shall we take Bras, papal"
"No, noi" her father said; "we will hef to go in
a small boat. 1 hope you will not get wet, Sheila
there is a good breeze on the water this moming."
"I think they are much safer in here than going
round the islands just at present," Sheila said.
"Ay, you are right there, Sheila," her father said,
looking at the direction of the wind. "They go
in ferry good time. And they may hef to stay licrc
for a while before they can face the sea again."
"And we shall become very great friends wilh
EDINTEGRATIO MORIS. 283
them, Papa; and they will be glad to take us to Jura,"
she Said, with a smile; for she knew there was not
much of the hospitality of Borvabost bestowed with
ulterior motives.
They went down the steep path to the bay, where
the Phobe was lurching and heaving in the rough
swell, her bowsprit sometimes nearly catching the
crest of a wave. No one was on deck. How were
they to get on boardi
"They can't hear you in this wind," Sheila said.
**We will have to haul down our own boat"
And that, indeed, they had to do; though the work
of getting the little thing down the beach was not very
arduous for a man of Mackenzie's build
"I am going to pull you out to the yacht, papa,"
Sheila said.
"Indeed you will do no such thing," her father
said, indignantly. "As if you wass a fisherman's lass,
and the gentlemen never wass seeing you before. Sit
down in the stem, Sheila, and hold on ferry tight, for
it is a rough water for this little boat"
They had almost got out indeed to the yacht be-
fore anyone was aware of their approach; but Pate
appeared in time to seize the rope that Mackenzie
flung him, and, with a little scrambling, they were at
last safely on board. The noise of their arrival,
however, startled Johnny Eyre, who was lying on his
back Smoking a pipe after breakfast. He jumped up,
and said to Mosenberg, who was his only companion
^Hillol here's this old gentleman come on board.
He knows youl Whafs to be donel"
"Donel" said the boy, with a momenfs hesitation;
and then a fiush of decision sprang into his face.
"Ask him to come down. Yes; I will speak to him,
r
284 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
3nd teil hira tliat Lavender is on the Island. Peihap^
he meant (o go ioto the house; who knows! If hf did
not, let US make himl"
"All right," said Johnny; "let's go a buster,"
Then he called up the companion to Pate, lo send
ihe gentleman below, while he flung a few things aside,
tt make the place more presentable. Johnny had been
engaged, a few minutes before, in sewing a button on
a woollen shirt; and that article of attire does not
look well beside a breakfast-table.
His visitor began to descend the nairow wooden
Steps; and presently Mackenzie was heard to say
"Tek great care, Sheila. The brass is feny slippery,"
"Oh, thunder!" Johnny said, looking lo Mosenberg.
"Good morning, Mr. Eyre," said the old King of
IJorva, stooping to get into the cabin ; "it is a rou|li
day you are getting. Sheila, mind your head tili you
have passed the door,"
Mackenzie came forward to shake hands, and in
doing so caught sight of Mosenberg. The whole trulh
flashed upon him in a moment; and he instantaneously
turned to Sheila, and said, quickly
"Shea, go up on deck for a mon
But she, too, had seeo the lad; and she came foi
ward, with a pale face, but with a perfectly seil
possessed manner, and said, "How do you dol It is
surprise, your Coming to the island; but you ofCen usi
to talk of it."
"Yes," he stammcred, as he shook hands with
and her father, "I often wished to come here, W
a wild place it is! And have you hved here,
Lavender, all the time since you left Londoni"
"Ves, I hiive."
Mackenzie was getting very uneasy. Every mi
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 285
he expected Lavender would enter this confined little
cabin; and was this the place for these two to meet,
before a lot of acquaintances?
"Sheila,** he said, "it is too close for you here,
and I am going to have a pipe with the gentlemen.
Now if you wass a good lass, you would go ashore
again, and go up to the house, and say to Mairi that
we will all come for luncheon at one o'clock, and she
must get some fish up from Borvabost. Mr. Eyre, he
will send a man ashore with you in his own boat, that
is bigger than mine, and you will show him the creek
to put into. Now go away, like a good lass, and we
will be up ferry soon oh yes, we will be up directly
at the house."
"i am sure," Sheila said to Johnny Eyre, "we can
make you more comfortable up at the house than you
are here, although it is a nice little cabin." And then
she tumed to Mosenberg, and said, "And we have a
great many things to talk about."
"Could she suspecti" Johimy asked himself, as he
escorted her to the boat, and puUed her in himself to
the shore. Her face was pale, and her manner a trifie
formal; otherwise she showed no sign. He watched
her go along the stones tili she reached the path; then
he puUed out to the Phoehe again, and went down
below to entertain his host of the previous evening.
Sheila walked slowly up the rde little path, taking
little heed of the blustering wind and the hurrying
clouds. Her eyes were bent down; her face was pale.
When she got to the top of the hill, she looked, in a
blank sort of way, all round the bleak moorland; but
probably she did not expect to see anyone there. Then
she walked, with rather an uncertain step, into the house.
She looked into the room, the door of which stood
286 A PUmCESS OF THllLE.
oten. Her husband ste ihere, with his aims out-
strelched oo the table, and his head buried in liis
liands. He did not hear her approach, her footfa
was so light; and ic was with the same sflent Step she
wcnt into the room, and kneh down beside hiin, and
put her hands and face on his knee, and said simply
"I beg for your forgiveness."
He Started up and looked at her as though she
were some spirit, and his owo face was haggard and
Strange.
"Sheila," he said, in a low voice, iaying his hand
gently on her head, "it is I who ought to be iere,
and you know it, But I cannot tneet your eyes. I
am not going to ask for your forgiveness just yet I
have no right to expect it. All I want is this if joa
will let me come and see you just as before we were
married and if you will give me a chance of winatng
your consent over again we can at leasl be friends
until then But why do you cry, Sheilal Yoa have
nothing to reproach yourself with."
She rose, and regarded him for tt moment with
her Streaming eyes; and then, moved by the passionale
entreaty of her face, and forgetting altogether the
Separation and time of trial he had proposed, he caugfil
her to his bosom, and kissed her forehead, and talked
soothingly and caressingly to her, as if she were a child.
"I cry," she said, "because I am happy^ becausc
I helieve all that time is over because I think you
will be kind to me. And I will try to be a good wif
to you; and you will forgive me all that 1 have done,"
"You are heaping coals of fire on my head, Sheila."
he said, humbly. "You know I have nothiug to fof
give. As for you I teil you I have no right to exped
your forgiveness yet. But X think you will find
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 287
by and by that my repentance is not a mere momentary
thing. I have had a long time to think over what has
happened and what I lost when I lost you, Sheila."
"But you have found me again," the girl said, pale
a little, and glad to sit down on the nearest couch,
while she held his band and drew him towards her.
*And now I must ask you for one thing."
He was sitting beside her: he feared no longer to
meet the look of those eamest, meek, affectionate eyes.
"This is it," she said. "If we are to be together,
not what we were, but something quite dififerent from
that, will you promise me never to say one word
about what is past to shut it out altogether to
forget it?"
"I cannot, Sheila," he said. ''Am I to have no
Chance of telling you how well I know how cruel I
was to you how sorry I am for itl"
"No," she said, firmly. "If you have some things
to regret, so have I; and what is the use of competing
with each other as to which has the most forgiveness
to ask fort Frank, dear, you will do this for me. You
will promise never to speak one word about that time."
How eamest the beautiful, sad face was! He could
not withstand the entreaty of the piteous eyes. He
said to her, abashed by the great love that she showed,
and hopeless of making other reparation than obedience
to her generous wish
"Let it be so, Sheila. I will never speak a word
about it You will see otherwise than in words whether
I forget what is passed, and your goodness in letting
it go. But, Sheila," he added, with downcast face,
"Johnny Eyre was here last night he told me "
He had to say no more. She took his band, and led
}um gently and silently out of the room.
l
2S8 A PRIKCESS OF THULE.
Meanwhilc ihe old King of Borva had becn spend-
ing a somewhat anxioiis rime down in the cabin f
thc Phabe. Many and many a day had he been
planning a method by which he might secure a meet-
ing between Sheila and her husbaod; and now it had
alt come about without his aid, and in a nianner which
rendered him unable Co take any precautions. He did
not know but that some awkward accidenl might d^
stroy all the chances of the affair. He koew thM
Lavender was in the island. He had frankly asked
young Mosenberg as soon as Sheila had left the yachl.
"Oh yes," the lad said, "he went away ioto ihe is-
land early this moming. I begged of him to go lo
your house; he did not answer. But I atn sure he
will. I know he will."
"My Kott!" Mackenzie said, "and he has be
ivandering about the island all the moming, and be
will be very faint and hiingiy; and a man is neffer '
a good temper then for making up a quarrel. If I k
known the last night, I could hef had dinner wi
you all here, and we should hef given him a good
glass of whisky, and then It wass a good time
him up to the house."
"Oh, you may depend on it, Mr. Mackenzie,'
Johnny Eyre said, "that Lavender needs no stimuliU
of that sort to make him deaire a reconciliation. Nl^
I should think not. He has done nothing but broo
over this affair ever since he left London; and
should not be surprised if you scarcely knew him, 1
is so altered. You would fancy he had lived teo ycaa
in the time."
"Ay, ay," Mackenzie said, not listening very afr
tentively, and evidently thinking
bc happening elsewherej "but 1 was Ihinki
REDINTEGRAtIO AMORIS. 289
men, it wass time for us to go ashore, and go up to
the house, and hef something to eat"
"I thought you said one o'clock for luncheon, sir,"
young Mosenberg said.
"One o'clock!" Mackenzie repeated, impatiently;
"who the teffle can wait tili one o'clock, if you hef
been Walking about an Island since the daylight with
nothing to eat or drink."
Mr. Mackenzie forgot that it was not Lavender he
had asked to lunch.
"Oh yes," he said, "Sheila hass had plenty of time
to send down to Borvabost for some fish; and by the
time you get up to the house, you will see that it is
ready."
"Very well," Johnny said, "we can go up to the
house, any way."
He went up the companion, and he had scarcely
got his head above the level of the bulwarks when he
called back
"I say, Mr. Mackenzie, here is Lavender on the
shore, and your daughter is with him. Do they want
to come on board do you think? Or do they want us
to go ashore 1"
Mackenzie uttered a few phrases in Gaelic, and got
up on deck instantly. There, sure enough, was Sheila,
with her hand on her husband's arm; and they were
both looking towards the yacht The wind was blow-
ing too strong for them to call. Mackenzie wanted
himself to pull in for them; but this was overruled;
and Pate was despatched.
An awkward pause ensued. The three Standing on
deck were sorely perplexed as to the forthcoroing inter-
view, an4 as to what they should do. Were they to
A Princist qf Thule. II, 9
390 A PKINCESS OF THUI.E.
TCJke OVO- a rcconcflialion; or ignore the fact alto-
gether, aod siinply trcat Sheila as Mrs. Lavcnderf Her
father, indeed, fearing that Sheila would be strangeiy
exciied, and would probably burst into tears, wondered
whal he could gel to scold her about
Foitunately, an incident, partly ludicrous, broke
ihe awkwardness of their anival. The getiing on deck
was a matter of some little difficulty; in the scule
Sheila's small hat wii its snow-white feather gol un-
loosed somehow, and the neitt minute it was whiried
away by Ihe wind into the sea. Pate could not be
sent 3.iiei it just at the moment, and it was rapidlf
drifting away to leeward, when Johnny Eyre, with
laugh and a "Here goes!" plunged in after the whiW
feather that was dripping and rising in the waves iike
a sea-guU. Sheila uttered a slight cry, and caught her
husband's arm, But there was not much danget.
Johnny was an expert swimmer; and in a few minuies
hc was seen to be making his way backward with onc
aim, while in the other hand he held Sheila's hat.
Then Pate had by tbis time got the smaJl boat round
to leeward; and very shortly after Johnny, dripping like
a Newfoiindland dog, came on deck and presentcd
Ihe hat to Sheila, amidst a vast deal of laughier.
"I am so sony," she said; "but you must change
your clothes quickly I hope you will have no hann
from it."
"Not I," he said, "but my heautifui white deckt
have got rather into a mess. I am glad you saw them
while they were dry, Mrs. Lavender. Now I am going
below to make myself a swell, for we're all going lo
have luncheon on shore, ain't wel"
Johnny went below very weil pleased with himicK'
He had c^led hei Mrs, Lavender without wincing. t
RDINTGRATIO AMORIS. 29 1
had got over all the awkwardness of a second intro^
duction by the happy notion of plunging after the hat.
He had to confess, however, that the temperature of
the sea was not just what he could have preferred for
a moming bath.
By and by he made his appearance in his best
suit of blue and brass buttons, and asked Mrs
Lavender if she would now come down and see the
cabin.
"I think you want a good glass of whisky," old
Mackenzie said, as they all went below, "the water it
is ferry cold just now."
"Yes," Johnny said, blushing, "we shall all cele-
brate the capture of the hat"
It was the capture of the hat, then, that was to be
celebrated by this friendly ceremony. Perhaps it was;
but there was no mirth now on Sheila's face.
''And you will drink first, Sheila," her father said,
almost solemnly, "and you will drink to your hus-
band's health."
Sheila took the glass of raw whisky in her hand;
and looked round timidly.
"I cannot drink this, papa," she said. "If you
will let me "
" You will drink that glass to your husband's health,
Sheila," old Mackenzie said, with unusual severity.
"She shall do nothing of the sort if she doesn't
like itl" Johnny Eyre cried, suddenly not caring
whether it was the wrath of old Mackenzie or of the
devil that he was braving; and forthwith he took the
glass out of Sheila's hand, and threw the whisky on
the floor. Then he puUed out a Champagne bottle
from a basket and said, "This is what Mrs. Lavender
will drink."
19*
2j2 A fWNCESS OF THLE.
Mackenzie looked staggered for 2 momenl He
had never been so braved before. But be was not "m
3 quairelsome mood on such an occasion; so he burst
inlo a loud laugh, and cried
"Well, did ever any man see the like o' thalt
Good wliisky ferry goud whisky and fiung on tbe
flooT as if it was water; and as if there wass no one
in the boat that would hef drunk it. But no matiei,
Mr. Eyre, no maller; the lass will drink whatever j-ou
give her, for she's a good lass; and if we hef all to
drink Champagne that is- no matter too; bat there is i
man or two up on deck that would not like to kno
Ihe whisky was spoiled."
"Oh," Johnny said, "there is stiil a drop left foi
them. And this is whal you must drink, Mrs. Lavendet.'
Lavender had sat down in a comer of the cabin,
his eyes averted. When he heard Sheila's name men-
tioned he looked up, and she came forward to him.
She Said, in a simple way, "I drink this to you, inj
dear husband," and at the same moment the oldFng
of Borva came forward and held out his hand. and
said, "Yes; and by Kott, I drink to your health, Wo,
with ferry good will."
Lavender started to his feel.
"Wait a bit, Mr. Mackenzie. I have goi something
to say to you before you ought to shake my hand."
Eilt Sheila interposed quickly. She put her band
on his arm, and looked into his face.
"You will keep your promise lo tne," she said;
and that was an end of the matter. The two Pen
shook hands; there was nothing said between theo,
Ihen or again, of what was over and gone.
They had a pleasant enough luncheon togetfaei
uf in that quajnt toiu, with the Tyrolese picluree o
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 293
the wall; and Duncan for once respected old Macken-
zie's threats as to what would happen if he called Sheila
anything but Mrs. Lavender before these strangers.
For some time Lavender sat almost silent; and an-
swered Sheila, who continuously talked to him, in little
eise than monosyllables. But he looked at her a great
deal, sometimes in a wistful sort of way, as if he were
trying to recall the various fancies her face used to
produce in his imagination.
"Why do you look at me sol" she said in an un-
dertone.
"Because I have made a new friend," he said.
But when Mackenzie began to talk of the wonders
of the island and the seas around it, and to beg the
young yachtsmen to prolong their stay, Lavender joined
with a will in that conversation, and added his entreaties.
"Then you are going to stayl" Johnny Eyre said,
looking up.
"Oh, yes," he answered, as if the alternative of
going back with them had not presented itself to him.
"For one thing, I have got to look out for a place
where I can build a house. That is what I mean to
do with my savings just at present; and if you would
come with me, Johnny, and have a prowl round the
island, to find out some pretty little bay with a good
anchorage in it for you know I am going to steal
that Maighean-mhara from Mr. Mackenzie then we
can begin and make ourselves architects, and plan out
the place that is to be. And then some day "
Mackenzie had been sitting in mute astonishment;
but he suddenly broke in upon his son-in-law.
**On this islandl No, by Kott, you will not
do that On this island? And with all the people at
Stomowayf Hoots, no, that will neffer do; Sheila, she
2g4 * PRINCESS OF TliUt.E.
hass no one to speak to on ihls island as a young
lass should hef; and you -what would you do youf-
seif in the bad weatherl But there is Slomoway
oh yes. that is a fioe big place, and many people
you will get to know there, and you will hef the
newspapers and the letlers at once; and iherc W'U
be always boats there, that you can go to Oban,
to Greenock, to Glasgow anywhere in the worid
whenever you hef a mind to do that; and then wheo
you go to London , as you will hef to go many litnes,
there will be plenty there to look after your house
when it is shut up, and keep the rain out, and ii:
paini and the paper good, more as could be done on
this island. Oh, this island !^ how would you live on
this island!"
The old King of Borva spoke quite impatienlly
and contemptuously of the place. You would have
thought bis life on this island was a species of petiil
servitude; and that he dwelt in his solitary house onl/
to think with a vain longing of the glories and delights
of Stornoway. Lavender knew well what proropted
tliese scornful comments on Borva, The old man
was afraid that the island would really be too dnll (or
Sheila and her husband; and that, whereas the easy
compromise of Stornoway might be practicable, lo sfit
up house in Borva might lead them to abandon the
north altogether.
"From what I have heard of it from Mr. Laven-
der," Johnny said, with a laiigh, "I don't tliink thiS
island such a dreadful place; and I'm hanged if I luve
found it so, so far."
"But you will know nothing about it oothinff
whateffer," said Mackenzie, petulantly. "You do not
know the bad weather, when you cannot go down lle
RCDINTEGRAtlO AHORIS. ^95
Loch to Callemish; and jrou might hef to go to Lon-
don just then.''
''Well, I suppose London could wait," Johnny said.
Mackenzie began to get angiy with this young man.
" You hef not been to Stomoway ," he said, severely,
"No, I haven't," Johnny replied, with much cool-
ness, ''and I don't hanker after it I get plenty of
town life in London; and when I come up to the sea
and the Islands Fd rather pitch my tent with you, sir,
than live in Stomoway."
"Oh, but you don't know, Johnny, how fine a
place Stomoway is," Lavender said, hastily, for he saw
the old man was beginning to get vexed. "Stomoway
was a beautiful little town, and it is on the sea, too **
"And it hass fine houses, and ferry many people,
and ferry good society whatever," Mackenzie added,
with some touch of indignation.
"But you see, this is how it Stands, Mr. Mackenzie,"
Lavender put in, humbly. "We should have to go to
London from time to time, and we should then get
quite enough of city life, and you might find an oc-
casional trip with us not a bad thing. But up here I
should have to look on my house as a sort of Work-
shop. Now, with all respect to Stomoway, you must
admit that the coast about here is a lite more pic-
turesque. Besides, there's another thing. It would
be rather more diflicult at Stomoway to take a rod or
a gun out of a moming. Then there would be callers,
bothering you at your work. Then Sheila would have
far less liberty in going about by herseif."
"Eighthly and tenthly, youVe made up your mind
to have a house here," cried Johnny Eyre with a loud
laugh.
"Sheila says she would like to have a biiliard*
21)6 A TBINCESS OF TllULE.
room," her husband continued. " Where could yoU gel
that in Stomoway?"
"And you must have a large room for a piano, to
sing in, and play in," the young Jew-boy said, looting
ai Sheiia.
"1 should think a one-storeyed house, with a large
verandah, would be the best sort ofthing," Lavender Said,
"both for the sun and the rain; and then one could
have one's easle outside, you know, Suppose we all
go for a walk round the shore by-and-by; there is loo
much of a breeze to take the Phcehe down the loch."
So the King of Borva was quietly overruled and
his dominions invaded in spite of himself. SheiU
could not go out with the gentlemen just then; she
was to follow in about an hour's time; meanwhe ihey
buttoned their coats, pulkd down their caps tight, and
set out to face the grey skies and the wintry wini
Just as they were passing away frora the house, Mao
kenzie, who was Walking in front with Lavender, said
in a cautious sort of way
"You will want a deal of money to buUd Ulis
house you wass speaking about for it will hef to be
all stone and iron, and ferry strong whatever, or
it will be a plague to you from the one year to the
next with the rain getting in."
"Oh yes," Lavender said, "it will have to be done
wel! once for all; and what with rooms big enough lo
paint in, and play billiards in, and also a bedroom or
two for friends who may come to stay with us, it will b
an expensive business. But I have been very lucky,
Mr. Mackenzie. It isn't the money I have, but the
commissions I am ofTered, that Warrant me goii
for this house. I'll teil ^ou about all tliese ihug
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 297
afterwards. In the meantime I shall have 2,400/., or
thereabouts, in a couple of months."
"But you hef more than that now," Mackenzie
Said, gravely. "This is what Iwass going to teil you.
The money that your aunt left, that is yours, every
penny of it oh yes, every penny and every farthing
of it is yours, sure enough. For it wass Mr. Ingram
hass told me all about it; and the old lady, she wanted
him to take care of the money for Sheila; but what
wass the good of the money to Sheilal My lass, she
will hef plenty of money of her own; and I wanted
to hef nothing to do with what Mr. Ingram said but
it wass all no use, and there iss the money now for
you and for Sheila, every penny and every farthing
of it"
Mackenzie ended by talking in an injured way, as
if this business had seriously increased his troubles.
"But you know," Lavender said with amazement,
^you know as well as I do that this money was definitely
left to Ingram, and you may believe me or not I
was precious glad of it when I heard it Of course it
would have been of more use to him if he had not
been about to marry this American lady "
"Oh, you hef heard that, then?" Mackenzie said.
"Mosenberg brought me the news. But are you
quite sure about this afifairl Don't you think this is
merely a trick of Ingram's, to enable him to give the
money to Sheilal That would be very like him. I
know him of old"
"Well, I cannot help it if a man will teil lies," said
Mackenzie. "But that is what he sbjs is true. And
he will not touch the money indeed, he will hef
plenty, as you say but there it is for Sheila and you;
and you will be able to build whatever house you like.
2q8 A PRINCESS OF TirULE.
And if you wass thinking of having a blgger boat ihan
the Maighdcan-mhara " the old man suggested.
luvender jumped at that nolion directly.
" Whal if we could get a yacht b^ enough to crutse
anywhere in the summer monthsl" he said. "We
tnight briog a party of people all the -ay from ihe
Thames to Loch Roag, and cast anchor oppostW
Sheila's house. Fancy Ingram and bis wife coming
up like thal in the autumn; and I know yon couid
go over to Sir James and get us some shooting."
Mackenzie laughed grimly.
"We will see, we will see about thaL I think
there will be no great difficulty about getting a deer
or two for you; and as for the salmon, there will be
one or two left in the White Water oh yes, we will
hef a littJe shooting and a little fishing for any of your
friends. And as for the boat, it will be ferry difBcuJl
to get a good big boat for such a purpose, witlioul
you wass planning and building one yourself; and
that will be better, I think; for the yachts now-a-days
they are all built for the racing, and you will Hefa
boat fifty tons, sixty tona, seventy tons, that hass no
room in her below, but is nothing but a big heap of
canvas and spars. But if you wass wanting a good,
steady boat, with good cabins below for the leddies,
and a good saloon that you could hef your dinner in
all at once, then you will maybe come down with me
to a shipbuilder I know in Glasgow oh, he is a fenj"
good man and we will see what can be done. There
is a gentleman now in Dunoon and they say he is
ferry great artist too and he hass a schooner of siJdy
tons that I hef been in myself, and it wass just like i
steamer below for the comfoil of iL And when
boat is ready, I will get you ferry good sailors foi Iicr,
A
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 2^9
that will know every bit of the coast from Loch-Indaal
to the Butt of Lewis, and I will see that they are ferry
cheap for you, for I hef plenty of work for them in
the winter. But I wass no saying yet," the old man
added, "that you were right about coming to live in
Borva, Stomoway is a good place to live in; and it
is a fine harbour for repairs, if the boat was wanting
repairs "
**If she were, couldn't we send her round to
Stomowayl"
"But the people in Stomoway it iss the people in
Stomoway/' said Mackenzie, who was not going to
give in without a grumble.
Well, they did not fix on a site for the house that
aftemoon. Sheila did not make her appearance. La-
vender kept continually tuming and looking over the
long undulations of rock and moorland; and at length
he said
"Look here, Johnny, would you mind going onby
yourselvesi I think I shall walk back to the house."
"What is keeping that foolish girll" her father
said, impatiently. "It is something about the dinner,
now, as if any one wass particular about a dinner in
an island like this, where you can expect nothing.
But at Stomoway oh yes, they hef many things
there."
"But I want you to come and dine with us on
board the Phobe to-night, sir," Johnny said. "It will
be rather a lark, mind you; we make up a tight fit in
that cabin. I wonder if Mrs. Lavender would ven-
ture; do you think she would, sirl"
"Oh no, not this evening, any way,'* said her
father, "for I know she will expect you all to be up at
the house this evening; ;uid what would be the use of
300 A PRINCESS OT THULE.
Uimbling about in the bay when you can be in i
house. Bui ii is feny kird of yoii oh yes, to-morrow
night, ihen we will go down lo the boat bat ihis
night, I know Sheila will be ferry sorry if you do not
come lo the house."
"Well, lefs go back now," Johnny said, "and if
we'vc lime, we might go down for our guns and have
a try along the shore for an hour or so before the
daylight goes. Fancy that chance at those wild dacki"
"Oh, but that is nothing," Mackenzie said, "to-
morrow you will come with me up to the loch, and
there you will hef sotne shooting: and in many othet
places I will show you, you will hef plentyof shooting."
They had just got back to the house when ihejr
found Sheila coming out. She had, as her father sup-
poscd, been delained by her preparations for enteruin-
ing their guests; but now she was free until dinner-
lime, and so the whole party went down to the shoie
to pay a visit to the Pha.be, and let Mackenzie have a
look at the guns on board. Then they went up to the
house, and found the tall and grim keeper wilh the
baby in his arms, while Scarlett and Mairi were put-
fing the finishiog touches on the gleaming white table
and its show of steel and crystal.
How Strange it was to Sheila to sit at dinner theri
and listen to her husband talking of boating and fish-
ing and whaC not as he used to sit and talk in tbe
olden time to her father, on tbe summer evenings, on
the high rocks over Borvabost. The interval between
ihat time and this seemed to go dean outof hermind.
And yet there must have been some interval, for hc
was looking older, and stemer, and much rougher
about the face now, after being buffetted aboui by
wind and raia and suq during that long and solitair i
REDINTEGRATIO AMORIS. 3OI,
stay in Jura. But it was very like the old times when
they went into the little drawing-room, and when Main
brought in the hot water, and the whisky, the tobacco
and the long pipes; when the old King of Borva ste
himself down in his great chair by the table, and when
Lavender came to Sheila, and asked her if he would
get out her music, and open the piano for her.
"Madame," young Mosenberg said to her, "it is a
long time since I heard one of your strnge Gaelic
songs."
"Perhaps you never heard this one," Sheila said,
and she began to sing the plaintive "Farewell to
Glenshalloch." Many a time, indeed, of late had she
sung its simple and pathetic air as a sort of lullaby,
perhaps because it was gentle, monotonous, and
melancholy, perhaps because there were lines here and
there that she liked. Many a time had she sung
Sletp soundj my sweet habe, there is noughi io alarm iGi;
The smu qftke volley no power haoe te ^rm tkeel
rUeingihee io rest in the balloch unirodden,
tVith u coroHoeh sad/or the slam of Cnlloden.
But long before she had reached the end of it her
father's patience gave way, and he said
"Sheila, we will hef no more of those teffles of
songs! We will hef a good song; and there is more
than one of the gentlemen can sing a good song, and we
do not wish to be always crying over the sorrows of
other people. Now be a good lass, Sheila, and sing us
a good cheerful song."
And Sheila, with great good-nature, suddenly
Struck a different key, and sang, with a spirit that de-
lighted the old man
The Standard on the hraes f Mar,
It up and Streaming rarely I
The gathering pipe on Locmagar,
Js sounding lang and clearfy t
302 A PRINCESS OF THULB.
Tlu lligklaaibnrH. fivm kill oMde/m,
In martisl Ime, mCt Saiairli ilnt,
Wi' bilUdHaidi, ondlrBTU'kciliUda,
Ar,nminglaU.nd.ar^l
"Now that is a better kind of song ^thatisa tefe
of a good songl" Mackenzie cried, keeping time lo
the music with his right foot, as if he were a piper
playing in front of his regiment. "Wass there anytiung
like that in your country, Mr. Mosenbergr'
"I don't know, sir," said the lad, meekly; "but if
you like I wiil sing you one or two of our sotdieis'
songs. They have plenty of fire in them, I Ihink,"
Certainly, Mackenzie had plenty of brilliant, andj
cheerful, and stirring music that evening, but thatj
which pleased hlm most, doubtless, was to see as all]
the World could see the happiness of liis good Iass.j
Sheila, proud and glad, with a light on her face thatj
had not been there for many a day, wanted lo
cverything at once to please and amuse her guestj, |
and most of all to wait upon her husband; and La-
vender was so abashed by her sweet service and her
simple ways that he could show his gratitude only bj
sotne furtive and kindly touch of the band as Sbeij
passed. It seemed to him she had never looked
beaiitiful; and never, indeed, since they left Stomowaj
together, had he heard her quiet low laugh so fll
enjoyment. What had he done, he asked himself, to
deserve her confidence; for it was the hope in ha
proud and gentle eyes that gave that radiant brighl-
ness to her faceT He did not know. He could QOl|
answer. Perhaps the forgiveness she had so freely
frankly tendered, and the confidence she now so cleailj
showed in him sprang from no judgmentor argumeot
but were only the natural fruit of an abounding anili
generous love, Moie than once that night he wuhed,
'JTHE PRINCESS SHEILA. 303
that Sheila could read the next half-dozen year$ as
4iough in some prophetic scroU, that he might shl^w
htv how he would Endeavour to prove himself if not
woftby for he could scarcely hope that at least con-
scioin of her great and unselfish affection, and as grate-
ful for it as a man could be.
They pushed their enjoyment to such a late hour
of the nigh^ that when they discovered what time it
was, Mackeasie would not allow one of them to ven-
ture out into the dark to find the path down to the
yachtj and Duncan and Scarlett were forthwith called
on to provide th^ belated guests with some more or
less haphazard sleemng accommodation.
^'Mr.Mackenzie,^ laid Johnny, '^I don't mind a bit
if I sleep on the floor. Fve just had the jolliest night
I ever spent in my life, Mosenberg, you'U have to take
the Phcebe back to Greenock by yourself. I shall never
leave Borva any more/'
"You will be sober in tisie moming, Mr. Eyre,"
young Mosenberg said; but ^e remark was unjust
for Johnny's enthusiasm had no4 been produced bythe
old King's whisky, potent as that was.
CHAPTER XIIL
The Princess Sheila.
**1 SHOULD like," said Mrs. Edward Ingram, sitting
down and contentedly folding her hands v^ her lap, ''I
should so much like, Edward, to have my own way
foronce it would be so novel and so nice.^
Her husband was busy with a whole lot gf plans
all stretched out before him, and with a pipe wl^ch he
had some difficulty in keeping alight He d)d not
even tum round as he answered
30| A PRINCE5S Of THULE.
"You have youi own way alirays.
cxpect to have mine also, you know."
"Do you reraember," she said, slowly, "anyuag |
your friend Sheila lold you about your nideness K
peoplel 1 wish, Edward, you would leave those lagged
children and iheir school-houses for three niinuta.
))o! I so much want lo see sorae places when we go
to Scotland; for who knows when we may be there
againi I have set my heari on ihe Braes of Yairow.
And Loch Awc by moonlight. And the Pass of den-
coe "
"My dear child," he said, at last tuming round in
his chair, "how can we go to those placesi Sheih
says Oban on the fifteenth." .
"But what Sheila says isn't an Act of Parliamenl," J
said the young American lady, plaintively and pa'B
tiently. "Why should you regulate all your move-l
menls by her) You are always looking lo the north
yOH are like the spires of the churches ihat are saidto \
be aiways telling us that heaven is close by thc Pole
Star." J
"The information is inaccurate, my dear," Ingrsm J
said, looking alhispipe, "forthe spires of the churche* 1
on the other side of the world point the other way. 1
Ilowever, that does not matter. How do you propossj
rampaging all over Scotland, and still be at Oban obI
the fifteenth?" I
"Telegraph to Mr. and Mrs. Lavender to come ol
to Edinburgh, and leave the trip to Lewis until
have Seen those places. For once we have gottothstS
wild Island, who knows when weshallretuml Now^aB
like a good boy. You know this new house of Ilieii*B
will be all the drier in a raotith's lime. And theiry^clitl
'ill Ue all thc moie !ihip-:hupe, And both Sheila udm
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 305
her husband will be the better of Coming down among
civized folks for a few weeks' time especially just
now, when numbers of their friends must be in the
Highlands and of course you get better attention at
the hoteis when the season is going on, and they have
every preparation made and I am told the heather
and fem on the hls look very fine in August and I
am sure Mr. and Mrs. Lavender will enjoy it very much,
if we get a carriage somewhere and leave the railways
altogether, and drive byourselves all throughthe pret-
tiest districts."
She wished to see the efFect of her eloquence on
him. It was peculiar. He put his pipe down and
gravely repeated these lines, with which she was
abundantly familir
**SeM Vatker to /, * Jack, rin arter him du V
SnIUVather, ' Tm damedij I duV*
"You won'tl" she said.
"The proposal comes too late. How can you ex-
pect Sheila to leave her new house, and that boy of
iiers that occupies three-fourths of her letters, just at
this timel I think it was very kind of her, mind you,
to come away down to Oban to meet us; and La-
vender too, is giving up the time out of the best
working-season of the year. Bless you, you will see
far more beautiful things as we go from Oban to
I^wis than any you have mentioned. For we shall
probably cut down by Scarba and Jura before going
iip to Skye; and then you will see the coast that you
admired so much in Lavender's pictures."
"Is the yacht a large one, Edward)" his wife asked,
somewhat thnidly.
"Oh, big enough to take our party, a dozen times
over."
A Prifueu of ThnU. 11. 20
30Cl A PRINCESE OT THCLE.
"Will she lurable about much, do you thinkl"
"I don't know," Ingram said, with an unkindly
grin. "Bul as you are a weak vessel, Larender i
walcli the weather for you, and give it you as smooth
as possible. Besides, lock at the cleantiaess and cori-
foit of a smart yachtl You are thinkiDg of one of
those Channel steamers, with their engjnes and o."
" Let US hope for the best," said his wife, with a sigh.
They not only hoped for it, but got iL When ihey
left the Crinan and got on board the big steamer Ehal
was to lake them up to Obao, all around them lay a
sea of soft and shining blue, scarcely marred by a
ripple. Hcre and there sharp crags that rose out of
the luminous piain seemedalmost black; but the farther
Islands lay soft and hazy in the heat, with the beau-
tiful colours of August tinting the greal massei
rock. As they steamed northward ihrough the shining
sea, new islands and new Channels appeaied unlil
they carae in sight of the open Atlantic, and tbal,
was as cahn and as still as a summer night. There
was no white cloud in the blue vault of the sky;
there was no crisp curi of a wave on the blae piain
of the sea; but everywhere a clear, radiant, salt-smell-
ing atmosphere, the drowsy haze of which was only
visible when you looked at the distant islands, and
saw the fioe and peariy veil of heat that was drawn
over the soft colours of the hills. The sea-birds dipp!
and disappeared as the big boat chumed its way
onward. A white solan, far away by the shores of
Mull, Struck the water as he dived and sent a jel o:'
spray into the air, Colonsay and Oronsay became ai
faint clouds on the southem hori^on; the jagged c
of Lome drew near. And then they went up ihrougli
ttie Sound of Kerrara, and steamed into the btot
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 307.
and beautiful bay of Oban, and behold! here was
Sheila on the pier, already waving a handkerchief to
them, while her husband held her arm, lest in her
excitement she should go too near the edge of the quay.
''And where is the boat that we have heard so
much ofV Said Mrs. Kavanagh, when all the kissing
aad hand-shaking was over.
"There!" said Sheila , not without some shame-
faced pride, pointing to a shapely schooner that lay
out in the bay, with her white decks and tall spara
shining in the aftemoon sun.
''And whatdo you callherl" asked Mrs. Kavanagh's
daughter.
" We call her Prtncess Sheila, " said Lavender. " What
do you think of the name?"
"You couldn't have got a better/' Ingram said,
sententiously, and interposing as if it was not within
bis wife's province to form an opinion of any sort.
"And where is your father, Sheila 1 In Borva?"
"Oh no, he is here," the girl said, with a smile.
**But the truth is, he has driven away to see some
gentlemen he knows, to ask if he can have some grouse
for you. He should have been back by this time."
"I would not hurry him, Sheila," Ingram said,
gravely. "He could not have gone on a more admir-
able errand. We must await his retum with com-
posure. In the meantime, Lavender, do make your
fellows stop that man: he is taking away my wife's
trunk to some hotel or other."
The business of getting the luggage on board the
yacht was entrusted to a couple of men whom La-
vender left on shore; whereupon the newly-arrived
travellers put off in a little pinnace and were con-
veyed to the side of the handsome schooner. When
20
L
308 A PRINCESS OF THULK.
ihey were on board, an eager exploration followed;
and if Sheila could only have undertaken to vouch
for the smoothness of the weather for the nexl mondi,
Mrs. Ingram was ready to declare that at last ehe had
discovered the most charming, and beautiful, and
picturesque fashion of living known to civized man.
She was deghted with the Utile elegancies of the
state-rooras; she was delighted with the paindngs oa
the under Skylights, which had been done by La-
vender's own band; she was delighted with the white-
ness of the decks and the height of the tapertng spats;
and she had no words for her admiration of the beau-
tiful sweep of the bay, the striking ruins of the old
Castle at tiie point, the rugged hills rising behind Ihe
white houses, and out there in the west, the noble
panorama of mountain, and island, and sea.
"I am afraid, Mrs, Ingram," Lavender said, "yon
will have cause to know Oban before we leave iL
There isnotabreath of wind to take us out of the bay."
"I am content," she said, with a gracious calm.
"But WC must gel yoa up to Eorva somchow.
There it would not matter how long you were b^
calmed; for there is plenty to see about the Island.
But this is a trifle common place, you know."
"I don't think so at all. I am delighted with the
place," she said. "And so are you, Edward,"
Ingram laughed. He knew she was daring him to
contradict her. He proposed he shonld go asbore
and buy a few lines with which ihey might fish for
young saithe or lythe over the side of the yachl; but
this project was stopped by the appearance of ihe
King of Borva, who bore triumphant proof of ie
success of his mission in a brace of grouse held up io
i
THE PRINCESS SHEILA, 3O9
each band as a small boat brought him out to the
yacht.
**And I was seeing Mr. Hutcheson," Mackenzie
Said to Lavender, as he stepped on board, ''and he is
a ferry good-natured man whatever, and he says if
there is no wind at all he will let on^ of his steamers
take the yacht up to Loch Sunart, and if there is a
breeze at all we will get it there/^
"But why should we go in quest of a breeze?'*
Mrs. Ingram said, petulantly.
"Why, mem," said Mackenzie, taking the matter
seriously, "you wass not thinking we could sail a boat
without windl But I am not sure that there will not
be a breeze before night."
Mackenzie was right. As the evening wore on,
and the sun drooped in the west, the aspect of afifairs
changed somewhat, and there was now and again a
sort of shiver apparent on the surface of the lake-like
bay. When, indeed, the people on board came up on
deck just before dinner, they founda rather thunderous-
looking sunset spreading over the sky. Into the dear
safifron glory of the westem sky some dark and massive
purple clouds had risen. The mountains of Mull had
grown light and milk-like; and yet they seemed near.
The glass-like bay began to move; and the black
shadow of a ship that lay on the gleaming yellow piain
began to tremble, as the water cut lines of light across
the reflection of the masts. You could hear voices
afar off. Under the ruins of the castle, and along the
curves of the coast, [the shadows of the water were a
pure green; and ie rocks were growing still more
Sharp and distinct in the gathering dusk. There was
a cold smell of the sea in the air. And then swiftly
the pale colours of the west waxed lurid and fierce;
310 A PRKCESS OF THULE.
tlie mountains became of a glowing purple; and thai
all Ihe piain of the sea was dashed with a wUd glart
of crimson, wliile the walls of Dunolly grew black,
and overhead the lirst scouts of the marshalling forces
of the clouds carae up in llying shreds of gold and fiit.
"Oh aye, we raay hef a breeze the night," Mac-
"I hope we sha'n't have a storm," Mrs. Ingram said.
"A Storni? Oh no, no storm at all. It will be a
feny good thing if the wind lasts tili the moming."
Mackenzie was not at all sure that there would bf
slorm enough; and went down to dinner with die
(ithers rather grumbling over the fineness of Ihe
weather. Indeed, when they came on deck again,
later on in the night, even the slight breeze that he
had hoped for seemed impossible. The night was
perfectly still. A few slars had come out overhead,
and their light scarcely trerobled on the smooth wate
of the bay. A cold, fresh scent of seaweed was about,
but no wind. The orange lights in Oban bumed pale
and dear; the red and green lamps of the steamere
and yachts in the bay did not move. And when Mrs.
Ingram came up to take Sheila forward to the bor
of the boat, to sit down there, and have a confidenliil
talk with her, a clear and golden moon was rising over
the Sharp black ridge of Kerrara into ihe stl and
beautiful skies, and there was not a rtpple of the wat
along the sidcs of the yacht to break the wonderful
silence of the night.
"My dear," she said, "you have a beautiful place
to live in."
"Biit we do not ve here," Sheila said, wiA i
smile. "This is to me aa far away from home as Eng-
land can be to you, when you think of Aioeria-
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 3 1 1
When I came here the first time I thought I had got
into another world, and that I should never be able
to get back again to the Lewis."
^'And is the Island you live in more beautiful than
this place!" she asked, looking round on the calm sea,
the lambent skies, and the far mountains beyond,
which were grey and ghostlike in the pale glow of the
moon.
^'If you see our island on such a night as this, you
will say it is the most beautiful place in the world. It
is the winter-time that is bad, when we have rain and
mist for weeks together. But after this year I think
we shall spend all the winters in London; although
my husband does not like to give up the shooting and
the boating, and that is very good amusement for him
when he is tired with his work."
"That island life certainly seems to agree with
him/' Said Mrs. Ingram, not daring even to hint that
there was any further improvement in Sheila's husband
than that of mere health; "I have never seen him look
so well and strong. I scarcely recognized him on
the pier he was so brown and and I think his sailor-
clothes suit him so welL They are a little rough you
know indeed, I have been wondering whether you
made them yourself."
Sheila laughed.
"I have seen you look at them. No, I did not make
them. But the cloth, that was made on the island,
and it is very good cloth whatever."
" You see what a bad imitation of your costume I
am compelled to wear. Eklward would have it, you
know. I think he'd like me to speak like you, if I could
manage it"
"Oh no, I am sure he would not like that," Sheila
3t2 A PBINCESS W THULE.
Said, "for many a time hc used to correct me, and
when he Grst came to iht island I was very mucti
ashamed, and somelimes angiy with him "
"But I suppose you got accustomed to his puttisg
everybody righti" said Mr. Ingram's wife, with a smilc.
"He was always a very good friend to mc," ShetU
Said, simply.
" Yes, and I think he is now," said her companion,
taking the girl's hand, and forcing herseif to say some-
thing of that which lay at her heart, and which had
been struggling for utterance during all this beating
abot the bush. "I am siire you could not have a
better friend than he is, and if you only knew how pleased
we both are to find you so well and so happy -"
Shea saw the great embarrassment in her coin-
panion's face, and she knew the good feeling that had
driven her to this stammering confession.
"It is very kind of you," Sheila said, gently. "I
am very happy yes I do not think I have anythtng
more to wish for in the world."
There was no embarrassment in her manner as he
made this simple avowalj her face was clear and calm
in the moonlight, and her eyes were looking somewhai
distantly at the sea and the island near. Her husband
came forward with a light shawl, and put it round her
Shoulders. She took his hand, and for a moment
pressed it to her ups. Then he went back to whcre
Ingram and old Mackenzie were smoking; and the
two women were left to their confidences. Mrs. avanagh
had gone below.
What was thia great noise next moming, of the
rattling of chains and the flapping of canvas overheadt
There was a slight motion in the boat and a plashiog oS
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 313
Vater around her sides. Was the Princess Shea get-
ting under weigh?
The various noises ceased; so also did the roUing
of the vessel, and apparently all was silent and motion-
iess again. But when the ladies had dressed, and got
upon deck, behold they were in a new world! All
around them were the blue waters of Loch Linnhe, lit
up by the brilliant sunshine of the moming. A light
breeze was just filling the great white sails; and the
yacht, heeling over slightly, was cutting her placid way
through the lapping waves. How keen was the fresh
^mell of the air! Sea-gulls were swooping down and
around the tall masts: over there the green island
of Lismore lay bright in the sunshine; the lonely
hills of Morven and the mountains of Mull had a
thousand shades of colour glowing on their massive
Shoulders and slopes; the ruins of Duart Castle, out at
the point, seemed too fair and picturesque to be as-
sociated with dark legends of blood. Were these
faint Specks in the south the far islands of Colonsay
and Oronsayl Lavender brought his glass to Mrs. In-
gram, and, with many apologies to all the ladies for
having woke them up so soon, bade her watch the
flight of two herons making in for the mouth of Loch
Etive.
They had postponed for the present that southward
trip to Jura. The glass was still rising; and the ap-
pearance of the weather rendered it doubtful whether
they might have wind enough to make such a cruise
an3rthing but tedious. They had taken advantage of
this light breeze in the moming to weigh inchor and
stand across for the Sound of Mull; if it held out, they
would at least reach Tobermony, and take their last
314 A PRISCESS C
look at a town before rounding Ardnamuichan and
making for the wild solitudes of Sfcye.
"Weli, eis," Ingram said to his wife, as he busied
himself with a certain long fishing Itne, "what do you
think of the Westem Higlilandsl"
"Why did you not teil me of these places beforel'
she Said, ralher absently; for the mere height of the
mounlains along the Sound of MuH the soft green
woods leading up to the great bare Shoulders of purple,
and grey, and brown above seemed to draw away
one's eyes and thoughts from sutrounding objects,
"I have, often. But what is the use of tellingl"
"It is the most wonderful place I have ever seen,'
she said. "It is so beautiful and so desolate al ihe
same time. What lovely colours there are everywhere.
on the sea, and on the shores there, and up the hills;
and everytbing is so bright and gleaming. But no
one seems t6 live here. I suppose you couldn't. The
loneliness of tbe mountains and the sea would kill you."
"My dear child, these are town-bred fancies," he
said, in his usual calm and carelessly sententious man-
ner; "if you Hved there, you would have plenty to do
besides looking at the hills and the sea. You would
be glad of a fine day to let you go out and gel some
fish, or go up the hills and get some blactcock fot
your dinner; and you would not get sad by looking
at fine colours, as town-folks do. Do you think
I^vender and Sheila spend their time in moonicg up
in tbat island of theirs) and that, I can teil you, is t
trifle more remote and wild tban this is. They've got
their work to do; and when that is done they feel
comfortable and secure in a well-built house, and
fairly pleased with themselves tbat they have eanied
some rest and amusement. 1 daxesay, if you buitt
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 315
cottage over there, and did nothing but look at the
sea and the hls, and the sky at night, you would very
soon drown yourself. I suppose if a man were to give
himself up for three months to thinking of the rst
formation of the world, and the condition of afFairs
before that happened, and the puzzle about how the
materials ever came to be there, he would grow mad.
But few people luckily have the chance of trying.
They've got their bread to eam; if they haven't, they're
bent on killing something or other foxes, grouse,
deer, and what not and they don't bother about the
Stars, or what lies just outside the region of the stars.
When I find myself getting miserable about the size
of a mountain, or the question as to how and when it
came there, I know that it is time to eat something.
I think breakfast is ready, Cis. Do you think you
have nerve to cut this hook out of my finger) and then
we can go below."
She gave a little scream, and started up. Two
drops of blood had fallen on Lavender's white decks.
"No, I see you can't," he said. "Open this knife,
and I will dig it out myself. Bless the girl, are you
going to faint because I have scratched my finger?"
Lavender, however, had to be called in to help;
and, while the surgical Operation was going forward,
Mrs. Ingram said
"You see we have got town's-folks' hands as yet.
I suppose they will get to be leather by and by. I am
sure I don't know how Mrs. Lavender can do those
things about a boat with the tiny little hands she has."
"Yes, Sheila has small hands, hasn'tshe)'' Lavender
said, as he bound up his fiiend's finger, ^but then she
makes up for that by the bigness of heart."
It was a pretty and kindly speech, and it pleased
3(6 A PRINCESS OF 'IHULE.
Mrs. Ingram, though Sheila did not hear it, Thcn,
when ihe doctoring was over, they all wenl below for
breakfast, and an odoui' of fish, and ham, and eggs,
and coffee, prevailed throughout the yacht.
"I have quite fallen in love with ihis manncr of
lifc," Mrs. Ingram aaid. "But, teil me, is it always as
pleaaant as thisJ Do you always have those blue seas
around you, and green shores^ Are the saila always
white in the sunlightl"
There was a dead silence.
"Well, I would not say," Mackenzie observed,
seriously, as no one eise would take up the question;
"I would not say it is always ferry good weatlier off
this coast oh no, I would not say that; for if tliere
wassno rain, what would the cattle do, and thestrearasi
they would not hef a pool left in them. Oh yes,
there is rain sometimes; but you cannot always be
sailing aboul, and when there will be rain, you will
hef your things to attend to indoors. And there is I-
ways plenty of good weather if you wass wanting to
tek a trip round the islands, or down to Oban oh
yes, there is no fear of that; and it will be a ferry good
coast whatever for the harbour, and there is always
some place you can put into, if it wass Coming on
rough, only you musl know the coast, and the e of
ihe islands, and the rocks about the harbours. And
you would learn it very soon. There is Sheila Ihercj
there is no one in the Lewis will know more of the
Channels in Loch Roag than sbe does not one,
say that; and when you go further away, thcn you
must tek some one with you who wass well acquuoi
with the coast. If you wass thinking of having a jraeht,
Mr. Ingram, there is one I hef heard of just now ia
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 317
Rothesay that is for sale, and she is a ferry good boat,
but not so big as this one "
**I think well wait tili my wife knows more about
it, Mr. Mackenzie/' Ingram said. "Wait tili she gets
round Ardnamurchan, and has crossed the Minch, and
hasgot the final Atlantic swell as you run in toBorvabost/'
**.Edward, you frighten me," his wife said; "I was
beginning to give myself courage."
^But it is mere nonsense!" cried Mackenzie, im-
patiently. **Kott pless me! There is no chance of your
being iU in this fine weather; and if you had a boat
of your own, you would ferry soon get accustomed to
the weather^-oh, ferry soon indeed and you would
hef no more fear of the water than Sheila has."
"Sheila has far too little fear of the water," her
husband said.
"Indeed, and that is true," said her father; "and it
is not right that a young lass should go about by her-
seif in a boat ^*
"But you know very well, papa, that I never do
that now."
"Oh, you do not do it now," grumbled Mackenzie.
"No, you do not do it now. But some day you will
forget, when there is something to be done, and you
will run a great danger, Sheila."
"But she has promised never to go out by herseif;
haven't you, Sheila)" her husband said.
"I dSd. I promised that to you. And I have never
been out since by myself."
"Well, don't forget, Sheila," said her father, not
ery sure but that some sudden occasion might tempt
the girl to her old deeds of recklessness.
The two American ladies had little to fear. The
Hebrides received them with fair sunshine and smooth
^l8 A PRINCESS Ol' THLE.
seasj and al! ihe day long their occupation was bitt
to watch Uie wild birds flying from island to istand,
Lnd mark the gliding by of thc beaiitiful coasts, and
listen to the light rushing of the waves as ihe fresh
sea-breeze flew through the rigging. And Sheila was
proud to teach them somelhing of the mystery of
sailing a sma craft, and would give them the tiller
sometinies, while her eye, as clear and keen as her
father's, kept watch and ward over the shapely vessel
that was making for the northern seas. One evening
she Said to her friends
"Do you see that point that runs out on this slde
of the smatl islandsl Round that we enter Loch Roag."
The last pale light of the sun was shining along
Ihe houses of Borvabost as the Princess Sheila passed.
The people there had made out the yacht long eie
she came close to land; and Mackenzie knew that
twenty eager scouts would fly lo teil the news to
Scarlett and Duncan, so that ample preparation would
be made in the newiy-finished house down by the sea.
The wind, however, had altnost died away; and thty
were a long time getting into Loch Roag in this clear
twilight. They who were making their first visii to
Sheila's island sat contentedly enougb on deck, how-
ever, amazed and bewildered by the beauly of ie
sccne around them. For now the sun had long sunk,
but there was a glow all over the heavens, and only
in the far east did the yellow stars begin lo glimm
over the dark plain of the Loch. Mealasabhal, Suaini-
bhal, Cracabhal, lifted their grand Shoulders and peak
into this wondrous sky, and stood dark and clear there, i
with the sence of the sea around them. As the night!
came on the yellow stars grew inore intense overhed/
but the lambent glow in the north did not paie.
THE PRINCESS SHEILA. 319
entered a small bay. Up there on a plateau of the
Tocks stood a long, low house, with all its Windows
gleaQijftg m tbe dusk. The pinnace was put off from
the yadit; in the strnge silence of the night the ripples
plashed 2uxund her prow; her oars strack fire in the
water as the men rowed in to the land. And then, as
Sheila's guests made their way up to the house, and
when they reached the verandah, and tumed to look
at the sea, and the Loch, and ie fax mountains op-
posite, they beheld the clear and golden sickle of the
moon risipg from behind the black outline of Suainabhal
into the soft and violet skies. As the yellow moon
rose ixk the south,, a pathway of gold began to tremble
on I/ch Roag, aiotd they could see the white curve of
sand arouod th bay. The air was sweet with the
C0I4 smell of the sea. There was a murmur of the far
Atlantic all around the silent coast
]^. w^ the old fiaimiliar picture that had charmed
the imagination of Sheila's first and only lover, when
as yet she was to him as some fair and wonderful
Princess, living in a lonely island, and clothed round
about with the glamour of old legends and stories of
the sea. Was she any longer tfais strnge Sea-Princess,
with dreams in her eyes, and the mystery of the night
and the stars written in her beautiful face) Or was
she to him now what all the world had long ago
perceived her to be a tender wife, a faithful com-
panion, and a true and loyal-hearted woman) Sheila
walked quietly into the house; there was something
for her firiends to see; and, with a great pride, and a
gentleness, and a gladness, Scarlett was despatched
on a particular errand. The old King of Borva was
still down at the yacht, looking after the landing of
certain small artides of luggage. Duncan had come
320 A PRINCESS OF THULE.
forward to Ingram and said, "And are you ferry well,
sirl" and Mairi, come down from Mackenzie's house,
had done the same. Then there was a wild squeal of
the pipes in the long apartment where supper was
laid the unearthly gathering-cry of a clan; until
Sheila's husband dashed into the place and threatened
to throw John into the sea if he did not hold his
peace. John was offended, and would probably have
gone up the hill-side, and, in revenge, played, "Mac-
krimmon shall no more retum," only that he knew
the irate old King of Borva would, in such a case,
literally fulfil the threat that had been lightly uttered
by his son-in-law. In another room, where two or
three women were together, one of them suddenly
took both Sheila's hands in hers, and said, with a look
of kindness in her eyes "My dear, I can believe now
what you told me that night at Oban."
And Sheila's heart was too fll to make answer.