vely handsome, and he talked more
sensibly to David; but David liked him less.

After this visit there sprang up a new hope in James' heart, and he
waited and watched, though often with very angry feelings; for he was
sure that Donald was gradually deserting Christine.

She grew daily more sad and silent; it was evident she was suffering.
The little Testament lay now always with her work, and he noticed that
she frequently laid aside her sewing and read it earnestly, even while
David and he were quietly talking at the fireside.

One Sabbath, two years after Donald's departure, James met David
coming out of church alone. He could only say, "I hope Christine is
well."

"Had she been well, she had been wi' me; thou kens that, James."

"I might have done so. Christine is never absent from God's house when
it is open."

"It is a good plan, James; for when they who go regular to God's house
are forced to stay away, God himself asks after them. I hae no doubt
but what Christine has been visited."

They walked on in silence until David's house was in sight. "I'm no
caring for any company earth can gie me the night, James; but the morn
I hae something to tell you I canna speak anent to-day."

CHAPTER V.

The next day David came into the bank about noon, and said, "Come wi'
me to McLellan's, James, and hae a mutton pie, it's near by
lunch-time." While they were eating it David said, "Donald McFarlane
is to be wedded next month. He's making a grand marriage."

James bit his lip, but said nothing.

"He's spoken for Miss Margaret Napier; her father was ane o' the Lords
o' Session; she's his sole heiress, and that will mean L50,000, foreby
the bonnie place and lands o' Ellenshawe."

"And Christine?"

"Dinna look that way, man. Christine is content; she kens weel enough
she isna like her cousin."

"God be thanked she is not. Go away from me, David Cameron, or I shall
say words that will make more suffering than you can dream off. Go
away, man."

David was shocked and grieved at his companion's passion. "James," he
said solemnly, "dinna mak a fool o' yoursel'. I hae long seen your
ill-will at Donald. Let it go. Donald's aboon your thumb now, and the
anger o' a poor man aye falls on himsel'."

"For God's sake don't tempt me farther. You little know what I could
do if I had the ill heart to do it."

"Ow! ay!" said David scornfully, "if the poor cat had only wings it
would extirpate the race of sparrows from t