nald. He had noticed him and Jessie strolling
along the river bank nearly every evening lately; probably he was
filling the girl's mind with disagreeable untruths regarding her
pastor. He believed young Neil capable of it. The knowledge of his
perfect innocence in the past only served to increase his anger at
anyone who had dared to malign him. He waited until four o'clock and
then went up to the schoolmaster's house and demanded an explanation.

Mr. Watson confessed all he knew, making the story as much like the
original as possible. It was not Donald but 'Liza Cotton that had told
it, he explained. At first the victim of the tale could have laughed
at the absurdity of it all, it seemed so trivial. But that did not
explain why Jessie Hamilton had so suddenly preferred Donald to him.

"Are you sure that's all, Watson?" he demanded, "absolutely all?"

"Well--," the schoolmaster hesitated, but he was the minister's slave
and could deny him nothing. "There was something more, about your
being engaged. They've even got the lady's name; the post-mistress
indorsed it, too. Aren't they a pack of jackals, anyhow!"

The young shepherd went home without denying this imputation against
his flock. He was overcome by a feeling of impotent rage against
everyone in Glenoro. Did ever mortal man have such a position to fill?
He must be all things to all men. He must have the inspiration of his
grandfather in the pulpit, and the piety of Mr. Cameron in the home; he
must be a hail-fellow-well-met with every country bumpkin who came
under his notice, and he must have the manner of a judge pronouncing
death, to meet with the approval of his elders. He must not pay
attention to any particular young lady, and yet he must dance
attendance upon all; he must have the gift of tongues in the Oa and an
Irish brogue in the Flats. And just when he was pleasing the party he
felt to be the most influential, and to him the most congenial, they
must turn upon him and rend him for the very qualities they most
admired in him! He was exasperated beyond endurance. He would resign:
yes immediately, and leave the silly, gossiping place to its fate. And
then he thought how it would look before his compeers: he, John
McAlpine Egerton, the pride of his year, the hope of the professors,
and the most promising young man in the college, could not manage this
little back-woods church for one year. And then there was Jessie. Of
course he was not