ok
well on a wall; but how to carry away, except in the memory, any
impression of the strange lambent darkness, the tender hues, the
loneliness and the pathos of those northern twilights?

They walked down by the side of one of the streams toward the sea. But
Sheila was not his companion on this occasion. Her father had laid hold
of him, and was expounding to him the rights of capitalists and various
other matters. But by and by Lavender drew his companion on to talk of
Sheila's mother; and here, at least, Mackenzie was neither tedious nor
ridiculous nor unnecessarily garrulous. It was with a strange interest
the young man heard the elderly man talk of his courtship, his marriage,
the character of his wife, and her goodness and beauty. Was it not like
looking at a former Sheila? and would not this Sheila now walking before
him go through the same tender experiences, and be admired and loved and
petted by everybody as this other girl had been, who brought with her
the charm of winning ways and a gentle nature into these rude wilds? It
was the first time he had heard Mackenzie speak of his wife, and it
turned out to be the last; but from that moment the older man had
something of dignity in the eyes of this younger man, who had merely
judged of him by his little foibles and eccentricities, and would have
been ready to dismiss him contemptuously as a buffoon. There was
something, then, behind that powerful face, with its deep-cut lines, its
heavy eyebrows and piercing and sometimes sad eyes, besides a mere
liking for tricks of childish diplomacy. Lavender began to have some
respect for Sheila's father, and made a resolution to guard against the
impertinence of humoring him too ostentatiously.

Was it not hard, though, that Ingram, who was so cold and
unimpressionable, who smiled at the notion of marrying, and who was
probably enjoying his pipe quite as much as Sheila's familiar talk,
should have the girl all to himself on this witching night? They reached
the shores of the Atlantic. There was not a breath of wind coming in
from the sea, but the air seemed even sweeter and cooler as they sat
down on the great bank of shingle. Here and there birds were calling,
and Sheila could distinguish each one of them. As the moon rose a faint
golden light began to tremble here and there on the waves, as if some
subterranean caverns were lit up and sending to the surface faint and
fitful rays of their splendor. Farther along the coast