ses for their
nightcap always."

"That may be; I'm no denying it; but what is lawfu' in some men is
sinfu' in others."

"I do not see that at all."

"Do you mind last summer, when we were up in Argyleshire, how your
cousin, Roy Callendar, walked, with ne'er the wink o' an eyelash, on a
mantel-shelf hanging over a three-hundred-feet precipice? Roy had the
trained eyesight and the steady nerve which made it lawfu' for him;
for you or me it had been suicide--naething less sinfu'. Three or four
glasses o' whiskey are safer for some men than twa for you. I hae been
feeling it my duty to tell you this for some time. Never look sae
glum, Davie, or I'll be thinking it is my siller and no mysel' you
were caring for the night when ye thought o' my cloak and umbrella."

The young man rose in a perfect blaze of passion.

"Sit down, sit down," said his uncle. "One would think you were your
grandfather, Evan Callendar, and that some English red-coat had trod
on your tartan. Hout! What's the use o' a temper like that to folk wha
hae taken to the spindle instead o' the claymore?"

"I am a Callendar for all that."

"Sae am I, sae am I, and vera proud o' it fore-bye. We are a' kin,
Davie; blood is thicker than water, and we wont quarrel."

David put down his unfinished glass of toddy. He could not trust
himself to discuss the matter any farther, but as he left the room he
paused, with the open door in his hand, and said,

"If you are afraid I am going to be a drunkard, why did you not care
for the fear before it became a question of L2,000? And if I ever do
become one, remember this, Uncle John--you mixed my first glass for
me!"

CHAPTER II.

A positive blow could hardly have stunned John Callendar as this
accusation did. He could not have answered it, even if he had had an
opportunity, and the shock was the greater that it brought with it a
sudden sense of responsibility, yea, even guilt. At first the feeling
was one of anger at this sudden charge of conscience. He began to
excuse himself; he was not to blame if other people could not do but
they must o'erdo; then to assure himself that, being God's child,
there could be no condemnation in the matter to him. But his heart was
too tender and honest to find rest in such apologies, and close upon
his anger at the lad crowded a host of loving memories that would not
be put away.

David's father had been very dear to him. He recalled his younger
brother in a score of t