ristine wept a little, and smiled a little, as she told
of her mother's last days, and Norman's mouth twitched, and his big
brown eyes were heavy with unshed tears.

After this delay, Norman put away his pipe, and bending forward with
his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands, he said,
"Christine, I hae brought you a message. I hated to bring it, but
thought it would come more kindly from my lips, than in any ither
way."

"Weel, Norman, what is it? Who sent you wi' it?"

"My wife sent me. She says she will be obligated to you, if you'll
move out o' the Ruleson cottage, as soon as possible. She is wanting
to get moved and settled ere the spring fishing begins. These words
are hers, not mine, Christine. I think however it is right you should
know exactly what you hae to meet. What answer do you send her?"

"You may tell her, Norman, that I will ne'er move out o' the Ruleson
cottage. It is mine as long as I live, and I intend to hold, and to
live in it."

"Jessy has persuaded hersel' and a good many o' the women in the
village, that you ought to marry Cluny as soon as he comes back to
Glasgow, and go and live in that city, so as to make a kind o' a home
there, for the lad. There was a crowd o' them talking that way, when I
came up frae the boat this afternoon, and old Judith was just
scattering them wi' her fearsome words."

"Norman, I shall not marry until a year is full o'er from Mither's
death. Mither had the same fear in her heart, and I promised her on
the Sacred Word, which was lying between us at the time, that I
wouldna curtail her full year o' remembrance, no, not one minute! That
is a promise made to the dead. I would not break it, for a' the living
men in Scotland."

"They were talking of Cluny's rights, and----"

"Cluny hes no rights but those my love gives him. I will not marry for
a year, at least. I will not live in Glasgow. I will bide in my ain
hame. It suits me fine. I can do a' the writing I want to do in its
white, still rooms. I can see wee Jamie here every day. I am out o'
clash and claver o' the village folk. I can watch the sea and the
ships, and feel the winds, and the sunshine, and do my wark, and eat
my morsel in parfect peace. Na, na, the auld hame suits me fine! Tell
your wife Christine Ruleson will live and die in it."

Norman did not move or speak, and Christine asked anxiously, "Do you
wish me to leave Culraine, and go to Glasgow, Norman?"

"No, I do not! Your wish is m