ristine? In a day
or two it will not be permissible. May I say it until then?"

"Christine is my name. Call me Christine always."

"Captain Macpherson would have something to say to that."

"What for? He has naething to do with my name."

"The first thing he does, after you are his wife, is to change it."

"He can only change the family name. Every one o' us in the family has
that name. It is common to all, far and near. Cluny can change that,
and I hae no objections; but he wouldna daur to touch a letter of my
christened name. That is my ain, as much as my hands and my eyes are
my ain--ay, and a gey bit mair sae--for a man may claim the wark o'
your hands, and the glint o' your e'en, but he canna mak' use o' your
name. It is o'er near forgery--and punishment. Sae I am Christine to
yoursel' neither for wark, nor for use, but just for pure honest
friendship--Christine, as lang as we baith wish it sae."

"Thank you, Christine. I am proud of the favor!"

Now I am beggared for words, when I come to try any description of
Cluny's wonderful joy in the final fruition of his long-delayed hopes.
When he landed, he was at first volubly happy. He told everyone he was
going to be married. He expected everyone to rejoice with him. All his
thoughts, words, and actions were tinctured with Christine. Men looked
at him, and listened to him, with pity or envy, and one of the
greatest of Glasgow's mercantile magnates cried out enviously--"Oh,
man! Man! I would gie all I possess to be as divinely mad as you
are--just for one twenty-four hours!"

But joy at its very deepest and holiest turns strangely silent. The
words it needs have not yet been invented, and when Cluny was free of
all duty, and could come to the very presence of his Beloved, he could
say nothing but her name, "Christine! Christine!" almost in a
whisper--and then a pause, a pause whose silence was sweeter far than
any words could have been. Speech came later, in passionate terms of
long and faithful love, in wonder at her beauty, ten-fold finer than
ever, in admiration of her lovely dress, her softer speech, her
gentler manner. She was a Christine mentalized by her reading and
writing, and spiritualized by her contact with the sick and suffering
little children of the past months. Also, love purifies the heart it
burns in.

Everything was ready for the marriage, and it was solemnized on
Saturday morning in the Ruleson home. The large living room was a
bower of fr