-a vera great one, I should say."

"He paints pictures for a living! He! A Crawford o' Traquare! I'll no
believe it, Tallisker."

"There's naught to fret about, laird. You'll ken that some day. Then
his wife had money."

"His wife! Sae he is married. That is o' a piece wi' the rest. Wha is
she?"

"He married an American--a Boston lady."

Then the laird's passion was no longer controllable, and he said some
things the dominie was very angry at.

"Laird," he answered, "Mrs. Colin Crawford is my friend. You'll no
daur to speak any way but respectful o' her in my presence. She is as
good as any Crawford that ever trod the heather. She came o' the
English Hampdens. Whar will ye get better blood than that?"

"No Hampdens that ever lived--"

"Whist! Whist, laird! The Crawfords are like a' ither folk; they have
twa legs and twa hands."

"He should hae married a Scots lass, though she had carried a
milking-pail."

"Laird, let me tell you there will be nae special heaven for the Gael.
They that want to go to heaven by themsel's arena likely to win there
at a'. You may as well learn to live with ither folk here; you'll hae
to do it to a' eternity."

"If I get to heaven, Dominie Tallisker, I'll hae special graces for
the place. I'm no going to put mysel' in a blazing passion for you
to-night. Yon London woman has bewitched you. She's wanting to come to
the Keep, I'll warrant."

"If ye saw the hame she has you wouldna warrant your ain word a minute
longer, laird. And I'm sure I dinna see what she would want to hae twa
Crawfords to guide for. One is mair than enough whiles. It's a wonder
to me how good women put up wi' us at all!"

"_Humff!_" said the laird scornfully. "Too many words on a spoiled
subject."

"I must say one mair, though. There is a little lad, a bonnie, brave,
bit fellow, your ain grandson, Crawford."

"An American Crawford!" And the laird laughed bitterly. "A foreigner!
an alien! a Crawford born in England! Guid-night, Tallisker! We'll
drop the subject, an it please you."

Tallisker let it drop. He had never expected the laird to give in at
the first cry of "Surrender." But he reflected that the winter was
coming, and that its long nights would give plenty of time for thought
and plenty of opportunities for further advocacy. He wrote constantly
to Colin and his wife, perhaps oftener to Mrs. Crawford than to the
young laird, for she was a woman of great tact and many resources, and
Tallisker be