any angel of conscience had revealed to him the lowest depths of his
desires and intentions. In the first place, he saw that David would
tolerate no element of quarrelling and bitterness in his peaceful
home, and that if he would continue to visit there he must preserve
the semblance of friendship for Donald McFarlane. In the second, he
saw that Donald had already made so good his lien upon his uncle's and
cousin's affections that it would be very hard to make them believe
wrong of the lad, even if he should do wrong, though of this James
told himself there would soon be abundance.

"For the things David will think sinful beyond all measure," he
argued, "will seem but Puritanical severity to him; forbye, he is
rich, gay, handsome, and has little to do with his time, he'll get
well on to Satan's ground before he knows it;" and then some whisper
dim and low in his soul made him blush and pause and defer the
following out of a course which was to begin in such a way.

So Donald and he fell into the habit of meeting at David's two or
three nights every week, and an apparent friendship sprang up between
them. It was only apparent, however. On Donald's side was that
good-natured indifference that finds it easy enough to say smooth
words, and is not ready to think evil or to take offence; on James'
part a wary watchfulness, assuming the role of superior wisdom, half
admiring and half condemning Donald's youthful spirits and ways.

David was quite deceived; he dropped at once the authoritative manner
which had marked his displeasure when he perceived James' disposition
to envy and anger; he fell again into his usual pleasant familiar
talks with the young man, for David thought highly of James as of one
likely to do his duty to God and himself.

In these conversations Donald soon began to take a little share, and
when he chose to do so, evinced a thought and shrewdness which greatly
pleased his uncle; more generally, however, he was at Christine's
side, reading her some poem he had copied, or telling her about some
grand party he had been at. Sometimes James could catch a few words of
reproof addressed in a gentle voice to Donald by Christine; more often
he heard only the murmur of an earnest conversation, or Christine's
low laugh at some amusing incident.

The little room meanwhile had gradually become a far brighter place.
Donald kept it sweet and bright with his daily offerings of fresh
flowers; the pet canary he had giv