his, I said to myself, the guidance of
the Lord in Whose hands are the hearts of men, and Who did cause Isaac
to cleave to Rebecca? But, again, might it not be that I was turning
from the way of the cross and following the desires of my own heart? I
prayed for some token, and fourteen days ago this word in the Song of
Solomon came unto me, and was laid upon my heart. 'Behold thou art
fair, my love, behold thou art fair, thou hast dove's eyes within thy
locks, thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Mount Gilead.'
Wherefore I make bold to speak to you to-day, and on your reply will
hang the issue of my after life." His eyes had begun to shine with
mystic tenderness and yearning appeal, so that she, who had been
looking away from him, could not now withdraw her gaze.

"Is there in your heart any kindness and confidence towards me, and
have you been moved to think of me as one whom you could wed and whose
life you could share? It is not to wealth nor to honor, it is not to
ease and safety that I invite you, Lady Jean; you must be prepared to
see me suffer, and you must be willing that I should die. What I could
do to protect and cherish you, if God gave you to me, I should, and
next to the Lord who redeemed me, you would be the love of my heart in
time and also in eternity, where we should follow the Lord together,
unto living fountains of waters."

It was not the wooing of quieter days or gentler lives; it was not
after this fashion that a Cavalier would have spoken to his ladylove,
but his words were in keeping with the man, and streamed from the
light of his eyes rather than from his lips. And the girl, who had
come to say no as briefly and firmly as might be consistent with
courtesy, was touched in the deepest part of her being, and for the
moment almost hesitated.

"Ye have done me the chief honor a man can offer to a woman, Mr.
Pollock, and Jean Cochrane will never forget that ye asked her in
marriage. It cannot be, and it is better that I should say this
without delay or uncertain speech, but I pray you, Mr. Henry,
understand why, and think me not a proud or foolish girl. It is not
that I do not know that you are a holy and a brave man, whom the folk
rightly consider to be a saint, and whom others say would have made a
gallant soldier. It is not that I doubt the woman ye wedded would be
well and tenderly loved, for, I confess to you, ye seem to me to have
the making of a perfect husband. And it is not th