d from a reverie.

"Oh no!" she answered--"I love to hear of a brave man's fight with the
world--it's the finest story anyone can listen to."

Reay coloured like a boy.

"I'm not a brave man,"--he said--"I hope I haven't given you that idea.
I'm an awful funk at times."

"When are those times?" and Mary smiled demurely, as she put the
question.

Again the warm blood rushed up to his brows.

"Well,--please don't laugh! I'm afraid--horribly afraid--of women!"

Helmsley's old eyes sparkled.

"Upon my word!" he exclaimed--"That's a funny thing for you to say!"

"It is, rather,"--and Angus looked meditatively into the fire--"It's not
that I'm bashful, at all--no--I'm quite the other way,
really,--only--only--ever since I was a lad I've made such an ideal of
woman that I'm afraid of her when I meet her,--afraid lest she shouldn't
come up to my ideal, and equally afraid lest I shouldn't come up to
hers! It's all conceit again! Fear of anything or anybody is always born
of self-consciousness. But I've been disappointed once----"

"In your ideal?" questioned Mary, raising her eyes and letting them rest
observantly upon his face.

"Yes. I'll come to that presently. I was telling you how I graduated at
St. Andrews, and came out with M.A. tacked to my name, but with no other
fortune than those two letters. I had made a few friends, however, and
one of them, a worthy old professor, gave me a letter of recommendation
to a man in Glasgow, who was the proprietor of one of the newspapers
there. He was a warm-hearted, kindly fellow, and gave me a berth at
once. It was hard work for little pay, but I got into thorough harness,
and learnt all the ins and outs of journalism. I can't say that I ever
admired the general mechanism set up for gulling the public, but I had
to learn how it was done, and I set myself to master the whole business.
I had rather a happy time of it in Glasgow, for though it's the
dirtiest, dingiest and most depressing city in the world, with its
innumerable drunkards and low Scoto-Irish ne'er-do-weels loafing about
the streets on Saturday nights, it has one great charm--you can get away
from it into some of the loveliest scenery in the world. All my spare
time was spent in taking the steamer up the Clyde, and sometimes going
as far as Crinan and beyond it--or what I loved best of all, taking a
trip to Arran, and there roaming about the hills to my heart's content.
Glorious Arran! It was there I first bega