s and misery of the first days of her stay in
Nethermuir might come back upon her again, of that she might have to go
away among strangers.

"But I will not go to yon man's house whatever befall," she said in her
heart.

The cloud which had hidden the moon for a while passed and showed the
trouble in her face, and John's heart smote him as he saw it. To whom
might this poor soul turn in her distress? And why should she tell her
story to any one? Since she had kept it so long to herself, it could
not be an easy one to tell. Why should she tell it? Whether she had
been right or wrong in her flight and her silence, it could not be
helped now, and if she could be saved from her present fear and pain, it
would be right to help her.

"Allison," he said in a little, "you say you trust me. I also trust
you. You do not need to tell your story to me. Some day, perhaps, you
may tell it to my mother. No one can give you wiser counsel or warmer
sympathy than she will. And I think you need not fear Saunners Crombie.
At any rate, he would speak first to yourself, or to one whom he knows
to be your friend. He would never betray you to your--enemy."

"Well, I will wait. I will not go away--for a while at least. And you
will be my friend?"

"I will try to help you," said John.

But all the thoughts which were passing through John Beaton's mind would
not have made a pleasant hearing for his mother. A sudden, strong
temptation assailed him, at which he hardly dared to look, and he strove
to put it from him.

"As to Crombie," said he, "he is an old man, and growing forgetful. It
may all pass out of his mind again. That would be best."

"Yes," said Allison, "that would be best."

They walked down to the gate together.

"And you will forgive me, Allison, and--trust me?"

"I will ay trust you. And it is you who need to forgive me," said she,
holding out her hand. "But it never came into my mind--"

John held her hand firmly for a moment.

"Allison!" said he, and then he turned and went away.

It was his mother who should befriend Allison Bain. But how to tell her
story? If it had to be told, Allison must tell it herself. As to
speaking with Saunners Crombie about Allison Bain and her troubles--

John uttered an angry word, and hurried down the lane and past the
gardens and the green, and over the fields and over the hills, till he
came to himself standing in the moonlight within sight of the "Stanin'
Sta