ad come in answer to my prayer for help and I thanked God and Kenneth
McLeod for it."

Here Mrs. Ragnor rose, saying, "Coll, my dear one, Thora and I will
now leave thee. I am sure Ian has done as well as he could do and we
hope thou wilt judge him kindly." Then the women went upstairs and
Ragnor remained silent until Ian said:

"I am very anxious, sir."

Then Ragnor stood up and slowly answered, "Ian, now is the time to
take council of my pillow. What I have to say I will say later. This
is not a thing to be settled by a yes or no. I must think over what
thou hast told me. I must have some words with my wife and daughter.
Sleep one night at least over thy trouble, there are many things to
consider; especially this question of the young lady who is made
the last count of Jean Hay's letter. What hast thou to say about her?
She seems to have had some strong claim upon thy--shall we say
friendship?"

"You might say much more than friendship, sir, and yet wrong neither
man nor woman by it. Why, the young lady was Agnes Henderson, the
sister of Willie Henderson, who is my soul's brother and my second
self. Thora must have heard all about Agnes!"

"Is she Deacon Scot Henderson's daughter?"

"Of course she is! Who else would I have left two engagements to
serve? But Agnes is dear to me, perhaps dearer than my own sister.
Since she was nine years old, we have studied and played together.
Willie and Agnes were the only loves and only friends of my desolate
boyhood. You have doubtless heard how unhappy the deacon's second
marriage has been. Both Willie and Agnes refused the stepmother he
gave them, and last year Willie went to New York, where he is doing
very well. But Agnes has been more and more wretched, and a recent
proposal of marriage between herself and the stepmother's nephew has
made her life intolerable. Two weeks ago I had a letter from Willie,
telling me he had just written her, advising an immediate 'give-up' of
the whole situation. He told her to take the first good steamer and
come to him. He also urged her to send for me and take my help and
advice about the voyage. Two weeks ago last Friday she did so and I
went at once to the West End Hotel to see her. She had disguised
herself so cleverly that it was difficult to recognise her. I went
with her to her sitting room and there I found the woman who had
waited on her all her life long. I knew her well for she had often
scolded me for leading Agnes into dange