half finished his education when
fortune made the poor poorer. But Scotland and Cambridge, thank Heaven
were far distant I never told him one word--I lived--it matters little
how--I cared not! Our fortune lasted, as I had calculated it would, till
he had taken his degree, and left college rich in honours--and then"----

She ceased, and the light in her countenance faded. Angus Rothesay gazed
upon her as reverently as he had done upon the good angel of his boyish
days.

"I said you were a noble woman, Alison Balfour."

"I was a mother, and I had a noble son."

They sat a long time silent, looking at the fire, and listening to
the wind. There was a momentary interruption--a message from the young
clergyman, to say that he was summoned some distance to visit a sick
person.

"On such a stormy night as this!" said Angus Rothesay.

"Harold never fails in his duties," replied the mother, with a smile.
Then turning abruptly to her guest--"You will let me talk, old friend,
and about him. I cannot often talk _to_ him, for he is so reserved--that
is, so occupied with his clerical studies. But there never was a better
son than my Harold."

"I am sure of it," said Captain Rothesay.

The mother continued--"Never shall I forget the triumph of his coming
home from Cambridge. Yet it brought a pang, too; for then first he
had to learn the whole truth. Poor Harold! it pained me to see him so
shocked and overwhelmed at the sight of our lowly roof and mean fare;
and to know that even these would not last us long. But I said to
him--'My son, what signifies it, when you can soon bring your mother to
your own home?' For he, already a deacon, had had a curacy offered him,
as soon as ever he chose to take priest's orders."

"Then he had already decided on entering the Church?"

"He had chosen that career in his youth. Towards it his whole education
had tended. But," she added, with a troubled look, "my old friend, I may
tell you one doubt, which I never yet breathed to living soul--I think
at this time there was a struggle in his mind. Perhaps his dreams of
ambition rose higher than the simple destiny of a country clergyman.
I hinted this to him, but he repelled me. Alas! he knew, as well as I,
that there was now no other path open for him."

Mrs. Gwynne paused, and then went on, as though speaking more to herself
than to her listener.

"The time came for Harold to decide. I did not wonder at his
restlessness, for I knew how stro