d."

"There are my second cousins, Helga and Saxa Vedder."

Then the laird was sure in his own heart that Tallisker's advice was
best. France and Italy were less to be feared than pretty, portionless
cousins. Colin had better travel a year, and he proposed it. It hurt
him to see how eagerly his heir accepted the offer. However, if the
thing was to be done, it was best done quickly. Letters of credit
suitable to the young laird's fortune were prepared, and in less than
a month he was ready to begin his travels. It had been agreed that he
should remain away one year, and if it seemed desirable, that his stay
might even be lengthened to two. But no one dreamed that advantage
would be taken of this permission.

"He'll be hamesick ere a twelvemonth, laird," said the dominie; and
the laird answered fretfully, "A twelvemonth is a big slice o' life to
fling awa in far countries."

The night before Colin left he was walking with his sister on the
moor. A sublime tranquillity was in the still September air. The
evening crimson hung over the hills like a royal mantle. The old
church stood framed in the deepest blue. At that distance the long
waves broke without a sound, and the few sails on the horizon looked
like white flowers at sea.

"How beautiful is this mansion of our father!" said Helen softly. "One
blushes to be caught worrying in it, and yet, Colin, I fear to have
you go away."

"Why, my dear?"

"I have a presentiment that we shall meet no more in this life. Nay,
do not smile; this strange intelligence of sorrow, this sudden
trembling in a soul at rest, is not all a delusion. We shall part
to-morrow, Colin. Oh, darling brother, where shall we meet again?"

He looked into the fair, tender face and the eager, questioning eyes,
and found himself unable to reply.

"Remember, Colin! I give you a rendezvous in heaven."

He clasped her hand tightly, and they walked on in a silence that
Colin remembered often afterwards. Sometimes, in dreams, to the very
end of his life, he took again with Helen that last evening walk, and
his soul leaned and hearkened after hers. "I give you a rendezvous in
heaven!"

In the morning they had a few more words alone. She was standing
looking out thoughtfully into the garden. "Are you going to London?"
she asked suddenly.

"Yes."

"You will call on Mr. Selwyn?"

"I think so."

"Tell him we remember him--and try to follow, though afar off, the
example he sets us."

"Well, you