y-born poor man, both of whom
evinced finer education, better manners, greater pride of spirit, and
more resolute independence than nine-tenths of the "society" people who
had fawned upon him and flattered him, simply because they knew he was a
millionaire. And the charm of his present position was that these two,
poor, lowly-born people were under the impression that even in their
poverty and humility they were better off than he was, and that because
fortune had been, as they considered, kind to them, they were bound to
treat him in a way that should not remind him of his dependent and
defenceless condition. It was impossible to imagine greater satisfaction
than that which he enjoyed in the contemplation of his own actual
situation as compared with that which he had impressed upon the minds of
these two friends of his who had given him their friendship trustingly
and frankly for himself alone. And he listened placidly, with folded
hands and half shut eyes, while Angus, at Mary's request, trolled forth
"The Standard on the Braes o' Mar" and "Sound the pibroch,"--varying
those warlike ditties with "Jock o' Hazledean," and "Will ye no come
back again,"--till all suddenly Mary rose from her chair, and with her
finger to her lips said "Hark!" The church-bells were ringing out the
Old Year, and glancing at the clock, they saw it wanted but ten minutes
to midnight. Softly Mary stepped to the cottage door and opened it. The
chime swung melodiously in, and Angus Reay went to the threshold, and
stood beside Mary, listening. Had they glanced back that instant they
would have seen Helmsley looking at them both, with an intensity of
yearning in his pale face and sad old eyes that was pitiful and earnest
beyond all expression--they would have seen his lips move, as he
murmured--"God grant that I may make their lives beautiful! God give me
this peace of mind before I die! God bless them!" But they were absorbed
in listening--and presently with a deep clang the bells ceased. Mary
turned her head.

"The Old Year's out, David!"

Then she went to him and knelt down beside him.

"It's been a kind old year!"--she said--"It brought you to me to take
care of, and _me_ to you to take care of you--didn't it?"

He laid one hand on hers, tremblingly, but was silent. She turned up her
kind, sweet face to his.

"You're not tired, are you?"

He shook his head.

"No, my dear, no!"

A rush and a clang of melody swept suddenly through the o