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 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN DOUGLAS, 
 
 Some rise by sin; and some by virtue fall." 
 
 — "Measuke for Measure." 
 
 Par divers moyens on arrive a pareille fin." 
 
 — Montaigne. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SWAN SONNENSCHEIN, LE BAS & LOWKEY, 
 
 PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 
 
 1886.
 
 '' The fixed aritliniic of the universe, 
 
 " Which meteth good for'''good and ill for ill, 
 
 '^ Measure for measure, unto deeds, words, thoughts ; 
 
 " Watchful, aware, implacable, unmoved ; 
 
 *' Making all futures fruits of all the pasts." 
 
 — " The Light of Asia,'' Edwin Arnold,
 
 1 
 
 c£) 
 
 Si3 
 
 D^H4-rv^ 
 AT. I 
 
 Jn Pijnioiiiam 
 
 WALTEK HERIOT DOUGLAS.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Chapter 
 
 
 
 
 
 Page. 
 
 I. 
 
 Rejected Addresses 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 II. 
 
 AuLD Lang Syne . 
 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 III. 
 
 Coincidences . 
 
 
 
 
 33 
 
 IV. 
 
 Hugh Crawfurd . 
 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 V. 
 
 A Dorcas Meeting 
 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 VT. 
 
 Plans . . . . 
 
 
 
 
 85 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Sangreal 
 
 
 
 
 99 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Violet's Song 
 
 
 
 
 112 
 
 IX. 
 
 In the Sunset 
 
 
 
 
 136 
 
 X. 
 
 Under the Night . 
 
 
 
 
 148 
 
 XI. 
 
 Sabbath Morning . 
 
 
 
 
 156 
 
 XII. 
 
 Sabbath Evening . 
 
 
 
 
 178 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Dr. Anderson 
 
 
 
 
 189
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 "■ The kindest man, 
 The best conditioned and unwearied spirit 
 In doing courtesies." 
 
 Merchant of Venice, 
 
 ANYONE who knows the good city of St. 
 Muiigo, knows " The Crescents " which 
 curve up the sunward slope of a pleasant hill at 
 the western end of Sauchiehall Street. They 
 commence with those handsome and substantial 
 houses in the angle behind St. George's Road, 
 and culminate in the splendid mansions which 
 crown the terraces overlooking the park. This 
 is a pleasant region of quiet and even somnolent 
 prosperity, an urban rendering of the land 
 
 " In which it seemed always afternoon," 
 
 enisled by broad and languid thoroughfares 
 which divide it from other regions hardly less 
 slumbrous, albeit falling short, perhaps, of the 
 supreme social attainment — the respectability in 
 excelsis of the Crescents themselves. Beyond —
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 northward, eastward, southward — is the roar and 
 the throng and the turmoil of the city : — smoke 
 of its torment rising up for ever — the very cloud- 
 pillar of Progress. A somewhat unsavoury cloud- 
 pillar, it must be confessed, much given to col- 
 lapsing upon the rear of the Industrial Israel 
 camped on the lower ground towards the river. 
 On the whole it might be an advantage, in more 
 senses than one, if Progress consumed its own 
 smoke. In the multifarious and many-sided life 
 of the great city, the modern gospel of averages 
 finds its justification, not by faith, but in sight 
 of manifold differences in individual satisfactions. 
 One man's gain is compensated in many another's 
 exceeding need — the Olympian ease of the 
 Crescents correlates the squalor of the Kennels. 
 Nay more. The duality even appears in the con- 
 ditions of individual lives. The mechanical, 
 supply-and-demand providence, which gives to 
 the masses their daily bread, gives them no less 
 therewith, their daily portion of carbonic acid 
 and its concomitants. But of all this the 
 Crescents know nothing. Night by night, the 
 city is ringed with fire : the Pharos light of the 
 smelting-furnace, the volcanic glow of the 
 forge, flare into the dark till the low heaven is
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 aglow with the sullen splendour of slow-pulsing 
 clouds of flame. Day by day is made hideous 
 with the shrieking of shearing metal, the 
 clangour of riveted plates, the whirring of 
 myriad-spindled looms, the chafl'ering of the 
 Market Place ; but these — these are afar off, and 
 the Crescents are peaceful. 
 
 " Archibald Keith, Esq., 33, Bankside Cres- 
 cent," was thus a highly-respectable address even 
 for a highly-respectable Glasgow merchant. 
 The house stood well up the slope of the hill, 
 and had a pleasant outlook between the greenery 
 of two squares, and over the houses below them, 
 away to the winding river-reaches and the 
 Renfrewshire hills. It was just the house to 
 give one a sense of easy-going opulence, of 
 gentle life and almost cloistral peace. A her- 
 mitage might be duller, it could hardly be more 
 still. To this house, while he was still compara- 
 tively a young man, Archibald Keith had brought 
 his dearly-loved wife and his little six-year- 
 old daughter. And when, after a few happy 
 years, the good wife died, instead of joining in 
 the westward migrations of his contemporaries, 
 he remained in the old house for the sake of 
 its loving and tender memories. There are men 
 
 1—2
 
 MEASUBE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 SO true of heart that even the loss of their 
 Beloveds cannot dry up the springs of their 
 affection, and who, for the sake of lost dear 
 ones, are the kinder to " all sorts and conditions 
 of men." Of such was Archibald Keith. He 
 was not a demonstrative man, and Mrs. Grundy 
 hardly considered him sufficiently affected by 
 the loss of his wife. But in the city it was 
 observed that he had lost something of his 
 business energy as well. Nevertheless he pros- 
 pered. 
 
 One other woman had shared his heart with 
 his wife — his sister Helen, who had married his 
 friend Dr. Dunbar. Both were dead, but each 
 had left him a legacy — his wife the little golden- 
 haired Elsie ; and Helen her son, his namesake 
 Keith Dunbar. So Archibald Keith lavished 
 his love and care on these children, and they 
 rewarded him with an intensity of affection to 
 which few parents can show claim. He also 
 gave much attention to the administration of 
 various charities, which, with his fine and 
 continually increasing collection of oil-paintings, 
 absorbed an appreciable portion of his income. 
 For the rest, he was known as a shrewd, 
 cautious, somewhat silent man, sociable enough
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 in a quiet way, and full of a pleasant half-caustic 
 humour in conversation. For his appearance — 
 well, at the time of this story, he is somewhere 
 about the fifties. A quiet-looking man, over 
 the middle height, with iron-grey hair and beard, 
 heavy dark eyebrows, and deep-set grey eyes. 
 His worn, pale face is furrowed with the lines of 
 many sorrows, and is still full of quiet cheerful- 
 ness and content. He has not attained the 
 aldermanic rotundity of the successful merchant, 
 nor has he fallen away to the meagreness of 
 Eomeo's Apothecary. 
 
 His nephew, Keith Dunbar, M.D. (set. 23), 
 may be described for the same epoch, as a tall, 
 well-made, fair-haired, fair-complexioned young 
 fellow, with a pleasant, frank face. He has a 
 great likeness to his uncle, especially about his 
 deep-set grey eyes ; but his fine features and 
 contours somewhat mask the real power and 
 concentration which are essential characteristics 
 of his expression. We make Master Keith's 
 acquaintance on a pleasant afternoon in early 
 summer. He has been abroad for a con pie of 
 years, studying at various celebrated laboratories, 
 and has not been long enough at home to have 
 got settled down to serious work, and so we find
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 him sitting in his snuggery, amusing himself with 
 the current number of the Westminster Eeview. 
 This snuggery is a pleasant room upstairs, on the 
 drawing-room floor — well lighted by windows on 
 two sides — the house stands at the corner of a 
 cross street. Dwarf bookcases and cabinets to 
 match, a writing-table and several easychairs, 
 with a few good paintings, constitute the furnish- 
 ing of the room. "Keith's Room," as it was called, 
 had, in fact, become the snuggery for the house- 
 hold. Elsie was fond of sitting there, and her 
 father used it more than he did his library, Avhich 
 was supposed to be his especial sanctum. When 
 he bought a new picture it had to undergo a 
 sort of probation on an easel in Keith's room till 
 its place in the collection was determined. Such 
 a picture was on the easel on this afternoon, and 
 Keith, having come to the end of his article, was 
 lazily looking at it — the picture — and wondering 
 how the artist had come by its scientific truth, 
 when the door opened and Uncle Archie came in. 
 Keith rose and stood talking to him as they selected 
 cigars from a box on the writing-table. But before 
 the cigars were lighted they compared notes about 
 the picture, and then they wheeled chairs to 
 the open window and settled down to smoke.
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 "Do you know where Elsie has gone? " asked 
 Mr. Keith, after blowing his first cloud. 
 
 " To the Park, I think, with Mrs. Challoner 
 and Mary." 
 
 "Is Tom with them, do you know?" 
 
 " I don't fancy he is. This is Saturday, isn't 
 it? So Tom is pretty sure to be cricketing. If 
 Mrs. Challoner wants to show him off in the 
 Park, it strikes me she will have to choose an 
 afternoon when there is no match on. Tom is 
 captain this year, you know." 
 
 " Ah, yes, so he is. Do you know, Keith, I 
 don't think it would do you any harm to play 
 \vith them this season if you can find time." 
 
 "I daresay I could find the time if I could 
 find the interest. You see, I have been so long 
 away that I have dropped out of the set a good 
 deal, and I have so many interests now. Besides 
 it will soon be time to go to Rosebank." 
 
 " Ah, talking of Rosebank reminds me," said 
 Mr. Keith. "What about your own plans? 
 Shall you accept Dr. Bryce's offer ? " 
 
 " Well, it is a good offer, but I hardly want 
 to settle down to practice — not yet, at anyrate. 
 In any case I want to spend next winter at 
 Vienna. I think, too, my real work lies in
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 research. You have managed my little money 
 so well, uncle, that I shall have enough to live 
 on.' 
 
 " But, Keith, you can't live on a hundred a 
 year ? " 
 
 " Is it as much as that? You have done well 
 with it, uncle. But, as to living on it — many 
 of our fellows live on less." 
 
 " No doubt. In their student-days and while 
 they are making their way, perhaps, but not for 
 a permanency. It is no income to marry on, 
 for instance." 
 
 " It is not an income to marry on certainly," 
 said Keith, smiling, "but then marriage does 
 not enter into my plans. I have not the slightest 
 intention of fettering myself in that way. I 
 might as well give up research at once." 
 
 " That is all true enough. You cannot make 
 an income and prosecute researches at the same 
 time very well. But look here, Keith, do you 
 mean to tell me that, among all the nice girls 
 you know, you have not seen one you would like 
 to settle down with? Only, I suppose, if you 
 had, it would have been some girl without a 
 fortune — like Violet Danby, for instance ? " Mr. 
 Keith was fishing for information. He had a
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 scheme of his own, and Miss Danby was just 
 the sort of beautiful woman who is apt to inter- 
 fere with the schemes of parents and guardians. 
 
 " Mrs. Crawfurd has been leading you astray, 
 uncle," said Keith, laughing, " and to serve her 
 own ends, you may be sure. I am only surprised 
 that she did not tell you I had married Miss 
 Danby ! " 
 
 " Well — she didn't put it that way exactly " 
 — Mr. Keith smiled grimly — " but she hinted 
 that you knew a good deal about the late dis- 
 appearance of that young lady." 
 
 " Oh ? she put it that way, did she ? " said 
 Keith, who seemed greatly amused. " Talk about 
 Christian charity after that ! — what she says is 
 true too — for once. That is the beauty of it, 
 coming from a mother in Israel. But if 1 were 
 to tell her what I know, I fancy she would be 
 more astonished than gratified." 
 
 " She insisted too," Mr. Keith went on, " that 
 after what has happened it was my duty to see 
 that you married Miss Danby." 
 
 Keith's amusement increased. 
 
 " I suppose," he said, " you did not ask Mrs. 
 Crawfurd to particularise ' what has hap- 
 pened^?"
 
 10 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Well — no. You don't suppose there was 
 any Avant of definiteness in the idea conveyed, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Doesn't it strike you that this interest in 
 Miss Danby is rather sudden?" Keith asked, 
 looking very innocent. " I understood, you know, 
 that it was on my account Mrs. Crawfurd sent 
 her away." 
 
 " Doubtless," said Mr. Keith. " You see it 
 comes after ' what has happened.' But the 
 question is — are you prepared to marry the 
 young lady ? " 
 
 " Does Mrs. Crawfurd require an immediate 
 answer? " was Keith's next impertinence. 
 
 " Well, no," said his uncle, " she did not state 
 any definite time." 
 
 " There is a little difficulty, you see." Keith 
 appeared to be considering the matter, but he 
 looked mischievous. " and the difficulty is that, 
 after ' what has happened,' I can't very well 
 marry her." 
 
 " Mrs. Crawfurd would say that, after ' what 
 has happened,' you can't very well avoid marry- 
 ing her." 
 
 "Still, T am afraid the difficulty is insuper- 
 able," Keith went on. " In fact she wouldn't
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 11 
 
 have me. Just think of all the eligible young 
 men who were ready to lay their saved souls and 
 their fortunes at her feet. What chance had a 
 poor worldling? Why even the new 'man of 
 God ' was in the swim. They have just imported 
 a minor prophet, you know. He hadn't a fortune, 
 but he had considerable expectations — hereafter. 
 However, I clear the 'man of God,' and you 
 can take your choice among the rest, as Violet 
 did. You know young McSlimon, McSlob- 
 bery, and Co. as well as I do." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that Miss Danby has 
 married a young man belonging to the chapel?" 
 
 ''Exactly. Fancy Mrs. Crawfurd's delight 
 when she finds that the lost sheep has married 
 into the fold — though I can't say," Keith added 
 meditatively, " that I ever heard that laid down 
 as an orthodox mode of entrance." 
 
 Mr. Keith ignored the theological turn his 
 nephew was giving to the conversation. 
 
 " I suppose you are not at liberty to tell me 
 who it is? " he asked. 
 
 " No, uncle. I cannot say that I am," said 
 Keith quite seriously, and the subject dropped. 
 Presently Mr. Keith began again on his old 
 tack.
 
 12 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "But about yourself, Keith? You haven't 
 answered my question. Can't you find a nice 
 girl to tempt you to settle down ? Some of them 
 have money too." 
 
 " There are nice girls enough, I daresay. But 
 I have been so long away, that I don't know 
 the state of the market. Besides, uncle, fortune- 
 hunting is not in my line. If ever I do marry, 
 I hope it will be for the woman's own sake, and 
 not for what she has got. And meantime I am 
 in love with my work." 
 
 " Well, at any rate, your work can hardly lead 
 you astray," said Mr. Keith. "But still — ah 
 me! How we all want to act providence! 1 
 am getting up in years, Keith, and I would have 
 liked to see both Elsie and you settled in life 
 before I go. You see, my lad, a fortune, even 
 such moderate riches as Elsie will have, is a sore 
 peril for an unguarded girl, and I would have 
 liked to have seen her in safe hands — the good 
 lass." There was a pause, during which both 
 smoked silently. And then the old man went 
 on again. " I have sometimes hoped, do you 
 know, that you and Elsie might have made a 
 match of it." 
 
 This put Keith in a quandary. He knew his
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 13 
 
 love for his cousin had not been altogether 
 cousinly. He knew, too, what his uncle had not 
 suspected — that Elsie's heart was already won by 
 a thoroughly good fellow — his cousin Tom — 
 the Tom Challoner above mentioned. Nothing 
 had been said between the two, and neither of 
 them suspected Keith of knowing of their 
 attachment, Keith was loyal above all things, 
 and did not consider himself at liberty to impart 
 his information without clear evidence of benefit 
 to his unconscious clients. Still, something had 
 to be said; so he said the first thing that 
 occurred to him. 
 
 " I don't know that it would have been quite 
 fair to have used my position in the house to 
 engage my cousin's affections. She is very young 
 yet ; and, if I had done so, she might have 
 regretted it afterwards." 
 
 " I should not have wished it if you had been 
 a young man of that sort ; and, as you say, Elsie 
 is very young. Still, she is not too young to have 
 an offer of marriage." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, who is it may I ask ? " 
 
 " Well, it is not the offer I should have chosen 
 myself. The young fellow is highly respectable. 
 — w^ell off too. He would be considered a catch
 
 14 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 by a good many people. But somehow I don't 
 
 like the idea." 
 
 " But you have not told me who it is," said 
 
 Keith. 
 
 " It is Hugh Crawfurd." 
 
 " What ! that fellow ? "—said Keith, starting 
 up and speaking with unusual warmth. " Has 
 he actually had the insolence to propose for 
 Elsie ? You surely will not consent ? " 
 
 '' I don't intend to consent. I don't even like 
 the idea of his being so far in Elsie's goo 1 graces 
 as t6 have a right to make the proposal." 
 
 "• He is not in Elsie's good graces at all," said 
 Keith. " I know that, uncle, and, if I had been 
 at home, he would have seen less of her than he 
 has. But what I can't understand is how he 
 comes to make the proposal at all. It is an 
 insult." 
 
 " You can hardly call it an insult, I think," said 
 Mr. Keith, " but, as a matter of detail, it was 
 Mrs. Crawfurd who made me the proposal." 
 
 " Oh — that explains," said Keith. "Does Hugh 
 know about it, do you think?" 
 
 " Surely. He is to come himself for the answer. 
 But whatever you have against him, Keith, I 
 think I ought to know it."
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 
 
 "Yes, but it would be just as well if you got 
 your information from somebody else. I can tell 
 you this much — I know enough to justify you in 
 refusing to entertain the proposal." 
 
 " Well, I shall decline it at anyrate, but 
 what about this matter — does Tom know?" 
 
 " Yes, but he will hardly tell you ; but David 
 Raeburn knows all about it, you had better apply 
 to him. If he doesn't tell you, I will." 
 
 " Very well, but why shouldn't I get the 
 information from Tom ? " 
 
 Keith considered a few moments and *then 
 said : 
 
 '-' Will you keep a secret, uacle, if I tell it 
 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You will take no action on the information?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 « Very well then. I very much fancy that 
 Tom would like to ask you for Elsie, himself. 
 Wait till he gets his partnership, and see." 
 
 Mr Keith was busy lighting a fresh cigar, and 
 said nothing for a few minutes. Then in a 
 lowered voice he asked : 
 
 " And Elsie — have you any notion of what 
 she would say ? "
 
 16 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I think she would say ' Yes ' — but I don't 
 think she knows that much herself yet." 
 
 Another pause and then the old man spoke 
 again : 
 
 " I would rather it had been yourself, my boy." 
 
 " Thank you, uncle, but Elsie can only make 
 her own choice. I saw how it was as soon as I 
 came home." 
 
 "Well, I will think it over. By-the-by, 
 Crawfurd is to call for his answer to-night. 
 Couldn't you take her out somewhere ? " 
 
 " That is already arranged, as it happens, as 
 Tom has booked places for us at the Royal." 
 
 " Well, that is settled. And now about your- 
 self again. I don't want you to draw on your 
 own money any sooner than you can help. It 
 will be all the better for accumulating. I will 
 put an extra hundred to your credit next week 
 for laboratory expenses. You can call it the 
 ' endowment of research,' if you like, but you 
 must use it for other purposes if you have occa- 
 sion. And you must let me know when you 
 want more." 
 
 "Thank you, uncle," said Keith, "you are 
 very good to me." 
 
 " I suppose you will want to be working out
 
 ItEJECTED ADDRESSES. 17 
 
 those hints Professor Muhlenrad gave you about 
 his discovery ? " 
 
 '* Yes, and I think the hints are going to work 
 out to some purpose," and Keith reached out a 
 pile of manuscript from a drawer and began to 
 explain the hieroglyphs thereon. But his lecture 
 was interrupted when Elsie came in from her 
 walk. 
 
 A pretty, dainty little madam, not quite out 
 of her teens. " Little," perhaps, is hardly the; 
 word for her. She was almost as tall as her 
 father, and therefore quite as tall as most 
 women. Her figure was graceful, and she 
 dressed well and artistically. She had a pretty, 
 bright face — which might have served for a 
 feminine edition of Keith's — fine features, a 
 delicate, sensitive mouth, sweet, well-set grey 
 eyes, dimpled cheeks, and soft, bright brown hair, 
 parted at one side, and carried smoothly away to 
 a coil at the back of her shapely head. This 
 pretty witch seated herself on the arm of her 
 father's chair. 
 
 " My daddy," she said, " do you know what 
 time it is? " 
 
 " Well, my dear, I think it is quite time you 
 were getting dressed for dinner."
 
 18 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " That is exactly what I think," added Keith. 
 
 " Oh, you wicked people, and you are not 
 dressed yourselves. You know you have been 
 wasting your time, smoking and gossiping, and 
 then you will blame me if we are late at dinner.'* 
 
 "Do you call this gossip, my dear?" said Mr. 
 Keith, taking up the manuscripts. 
 
 " That is all very fine ; but do you mean 
 to tell me, my daddy " — here Elsie took her 
 father's face in her hands — " that you could 
 read a page of that to save your life ? You are a 
 miserable pretender, sir." This accusation was 
 emphasised in a pleasant daughterly fashion, and 
 then she turned to Keith who was looking on 
 amused : 
 
 " Has your serene high mightiness got those 
 tickets?" 
 • " Here are the tickets, madam," said Keith. 
 
 " Very well, what time must I be ready? " 
 
 " Say a quarter to eight? " said Keith, looking 
 inquiringly at his uncle, who nodded acquies- 
 cence. And Elsie went off, leaving a parting 
 injunction. 
 
 " See you don't keep me waiting, good people." 
 
 " Shall we be off soon enough?" Keith asked 
 his uncle, when Elsie had gone.
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES. 19 
 
 " Yes, I think so. Crawfurd can hardly come 
 till after eight." 
 
 So after dinner Keith and his cousin went off 
 together in a hansom, and were by no means 
 surprised to find Mr. Tom Challoner waiting for 
 them at the theatre-door. 
 
 2-2
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AULD LANG SYNE. 
 
 •' Hopes die and their tombs are for token, 
 That the grief, as the joy of them, ends 
 Ere time, that breaks all things, has broken 
 The faith between friends." 
 
 A. C. Swinburne. 
 
 WHEN the young folks had departed, Mr. 
 Keith also went out, and, on his return 
 after a short absence, he gave orders that if Mr. 
 Hugh Crawfurd called he was to be shown into 
 the library. Then he went upstairs to Keith's 
 room and smoked a meditative cigar. In course 
 of time the expected visitor was announced, and 
 Mr. Keith went down to receive him. Just as 
 he got down to the hall, a second visitor was 
 admitted — a tall, well-set-up, military-looking 
 man, with grizzled hair and moustache, and a 
 weather-beaten face lit up by merry blue eyes. 
 He was unmistakably well dressed and had a 
 quiet, unassuming manner, but for all that he 
 looked a campaigner all over. As the stranger 
 stepped into the lighted hall, Archibald Keith
 
 A ULB LANG SYNE. 21 
 
 looked at him intently for a moment, and then 
 rapidly crossed the hall, holding out his hand. 
 
 '' Lord bless me ! " he exclaimed, " it is Harry 
 Carmichael. Eh, man, but I am glad to see 
 
 YOU." 
 
 " And how are you, old man? " said the other, 
 as they shook hands, '' you're a bit older since 
 I saw you last." 
 
 ''Ay, the years bring their changes, but it's 
 something when they bring a meeting like this. 
 But come upstairs, come upstairs. I have an 
 appointment for a few minutes," Mr. Keith 
 added in a lower tone, " an important one. But 
 you can make yourself comfortable. This is my 
 nephew Keith's room. You will find some good 
 cigars in that box." 
 
 " All right, Archie, don't hurry for me, I have 
 been in worse quarters." 
 
 " I shall only be a few minutes, and then 
 we'll make a night of it," said Mr. Keith, as he 
 went away. 
 
 The stranger settled himself in an easychair 
 and lit a cigar. Then he began to look about 
 him. 
 
 " Nephew Keith's room," he said to himself. 
 " Why, that must be Helen's boy. Wonder
 
 22 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 if the lad is like his mother ! " Then he looked 
 at the books in the case nearest him, run- 
 ning over their titles — " ' Chemistry/ ' Physics/ 
 ' Laboratory Practice,' ' Practice of Physic,' 
 * Forensic Medicine ' — he must be a medicus — 
 takes after his father, I suppose — good fellow 
 Walter Dunbar was. I suppose he is dead, and 
 Archie has taken up the boy. Perhaps Helen 
 is here. Why does not Elspeth come to me? 
 Queer — Archie never mentioned her too." 
 
 A maid appeared with a tray of decanters and 
 their accompaniments. The stranger asked her 
 if Mrs. Keith were in. The girl stared. 
 
 "There's nae Mistress Keith," she said. 
 "Naebody but Miss Elsie. Mistress Dunbar 
 was here when I came first, but she's dead — it'll 
 be three years in syne. Shall I light the gas, 
 sir?^' 
 
 " No, thank you." 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Keith was talking to Hugh 
 Crawfurd in the library. 
 
 " I want you to understand, Hugh, that this 
 matter must go no further. Elsie is very young 
 and I don't care to have her engaged at all at 
 present. And, besides, I have my own views 
 with regard to her future. I may as well tell
 
 AULD LANG SYNE. 23 
 
 you at once that your proposal gives me no 
 reason for departing from those views." 
 
 " I am very sorry, sir," Crawfurd answered, 
 '* but may I ask if you have any reason against 
 me personally? I can w\ait, if w^aiting would 
 do." 
 
 " No, my young friend, waiting will not do. 
 Have T not told you I have other views ? " 
 
 " But, at least, may I not be allowed to ask 
 Miss Keith herself? " 
 
 " Certainly not. Even if I had been inclined 
 to accept your offer, I should not have allowed 
 that at present. Really, Hugh," continued Mr. 
 Keith, " you must take my answer." He laid 
 his hand kindly on the young man's shoulder. 
 " It is final. I had intended having some more 
 talk Avith you, but I have an unexpected visitor. 
 You can tell them at home that Harry Car- 
 michael is in Glasgow. And noAv you must 
 allow^ me to say good-night." 
 
 *' But, Mr. Keith," persisted the young man, 
 as they went out into the hall, " will you not 
 tell me what has set you against me? Has 
 Keith ?" 
 
 Mr. Keith interrupted him. 
 
 " You may let Keith alone," he said. " When
 
 24 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 your mother spoke to me last night, I held out 
 no hopes to her. But I never thought but that 
 you had a perfectly good right to propose for 
 my daughter if you thought proper. Now you 
 know yourself whether that is the case or not. 
 Of course, I have made enquiries about you. I 
 have no wish to blame you. I am sorry for 
 you, and I cannot help thinking that your over- 
 strict up-bringing has a great deal to answer for. 
 Only — I cannot say I like your mode of reaction. 
 Just think seriously, my boy, and see if you 
 cannot pull yourself straight. Remember, a 
 false position is a dangerous position. I think 
 you should take your father into your confidence. 
 At anyrate, remember, I am willing to help 
 you. Meantime, I shall keep your secret. Now 
 good-night." 
 
 They parted at the top of the outer steps, 
 under the pillared porch, and then Mr. Keith 
 hurried upstairs to his friend, and was soon settled 
 in another easychair. The gas-lamps were lit, the 
 grog was brewed, and they were comfortable. 
 
 " Here's tae us," said Mr. Keith, raising his 
 glass, " man Hairry, but ye're the sicht for sair 
 e'en It is almost worth while being parted to 
 have such a meeting.'^
 
 AULD LANG SYNE. 25 
 
 " Yes, I guess the meeting is pleasanter than 
 the parting." 
 
 " Twenty-five years is a long time, Harry." 
 
 " It is, Archie — it takes a good slice out of 
 a man's life." 
 
 " It does that, and it brings many changes." 
 
 " Changes ? Yes. More changes than anything 
 else. You seem to have changed your house for 
 the better, for instance. You have not gone 
 back in the world, anyhow." 
 
 "No. I cannot complain in that respect. 
 For the house, it was Dunbar's. I bought it 
 when he died." 
 
 " Yes, I remember Dunbar — a good fellow he 
 was. You spoke of your nephew just now. I 
 suppose that was his son? Is he like his father 
 at all ? " 
 
 " A good deal, But even more like his mother, 
 I think. — But what about yourself? I seem to 
 remember hearing that you were married ? " 
 
 " Yes, I married a few years after I went out, 
 but I lost my wife ten years ago. I have one 
 daughter. I have brought her over with me 
 to show her the old place." 
 
 " Ay ? And how old is she ? You must 
 bring her here."
 
 2Q 3fUASUBU FOB MEASURE. 
 
 " How old ? Let me see ? Twenty — nearly 
 twenty-one. I'll bring her — never fear. She 
 must know all you old fogies already. She has 
 heard of you often enough. She won't know the 
 young ones, though." 
 
 "Well, you see," said Mr. Keith smiling, 
 " you could hardly tell her about them. You 
 went away before their time, and you didn't 
 keep up much communication with us." 
 
 "Communication? Well, no I have been a 
 darned sight too busy. I cut myself adrift, as I 
 meant to. But I always meant to come back 
 when I had made my pile. Well, I made it, and 
 then I lost it at the war time — I served through 
 most of the war time. I am Colonel Carraichael, 
 an it please you. And then I made my pile 
 again, and here I am." 
 
 " But suppose anything had happened to you 
 in the Avar — what would have become of your 
 daughter ?" 
 
 "Oh, she had her mother, and if anything had 
 happened to her, why then Polly was consigned 
 to you." 
 
 " That was right," said Mr. Keith. " Is her 
 name Mary, then ? " 
 
 " No — Pauline. It was her mother's name —
 
 A TJLB LANG SYNE. 27 
 
 she was a French woman. I call her Polly, 
 because it's an English name, and near enough 
 the French one for practical purposes." 
 
 Both smoked on silently for a while, and then 
 Mr. Keith, leaning forward in his chair, said in 
 a low voice : 
 
 '' Did you hear of Elspeth's death ? " 
 
 Carmichael shook his head slowly : — 
 
 '• I guessed it," he said, " when she did not 
 come to me and you said nothing about her. 
 How long ago ? " 
 
 " Seven vears asfo." 
 
 Then there was a long silence, after which 
 they talked in low tones about the dead woman 
 — sister to one and wife to the other, and a 
 loving memory to both. Gradually, however, the 
 talk came back to the living. 
 
 '' Tom Challoner is still your partner, then ? " 
 queried Carmichael. 
 
 " Yes, and as jolly and hearty as ever, and 
 there is a young Tom growing up, as like his 
 father as can be." 
 
 " Let me see. Who was it Challoner 
 married ?" 
 
 He married Marion Dunbar — you remember 
 her ? Walter's sister."
 
 28 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Oh yes, I remember. And is young Tom 
 in the business ? " 
 
 " Yes, and doing well too. We are going 
 to give him a partnership next year. But you 
 don't ask after your old flame, Mary Huntly ? " 
 
 " Mary Huntly — what about her then ? Did 
 she marry Crawfurd ? " 
 
 " Yes. She married him, and they have 
 flourished. They live in one of those fearfully 
 respectable big houses in Blythswood Square. 
 You never went in enough for the respectables 
 to suit Mary." 
 
 " Come to that," said Carmichael, " you never 
 were eaten up by respectability yourself. What 
 family have they ? " 
 
 " Let me see — there's James, who manages 
 the New York branch of the business. Perhaps 
 you know him ? " 
 
 " No. I can't say that I do." 
 
 " Well, you'll see him I expect ; he's over here 
 just now, making love to Mary Challoner. He's 
 a good fellow, is James. Then there is Hugh, 
 and four younger ones." 
 
 " Does Crawfurd go in for little Zion as 
 much as ever ? " 
 
 " Oh dear me, yes. He is Bishop of Little
 
 A ULD LANG SYNE. 29 
 
 Zion. In fact down there everybody sings the 
 tune Jh'other Crawfurd gives out." 
 
 "Do you ever go there?" Carmichael asked. 
 
 " I drop in sometimes with the Challoners for 
 old sake's sake. I never did like Little Zion 
 very much, but I got my good lass there, and she 
 liked it to the end, and believed in it. There 
 must be some good in a system that produces 
 such women." Mr. Keith looked into Car- 
 michael's face with a queer smile. " They were 
 always talking about ' finding the Lord.' I was 
 quite satisfied with finding my wife." 
 
 " The same old heathen as ever, Archie," said 
 Carmichael, " you haven't changed much except 
 in years. But I think I must look up the old 
 shop to-morrow. Will you come ? " 
 
 " Certainly. But look here. You are going 
 to stay with me of course ? Where shall I send 
 for your luggage?" 
 
 " You forget there's Polly. We are staying 
 at Burnbank." 
 
 " I'll tell you what, I vnll just send for your 
 things at once, and Mademoiselle can come along 
 with them. — But here come the yDungsters." 
 
 "- Are you all right, my daddy?" said Elsie, 
 as she came in. ''Have you been very dull?
 
 30 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 How many cigars ?" and Mademoiselle broke 
 
 off her saucy speech in some confusion as she 
 noticed the stranger. 
 
 " That is the way I get talked to, Harry," said 
 Mr. Keith. " What do you think of your niece? 
 This is your Uncle Harry, my dear," he added to 
 Elsie. 
 
 ''My dear girl,'* said Uncle Harry, kissing 
 her, "eh, but you are like your mother ! " 
 
 " And now, Harry, let me introduce you to 
 Mr. Tom Challoner, junior. — Mr. Carmichael, 
 Tom, is an old friend of your father's." 
 
 " I have heard of you, sir," said Tom. 
 " Father will be very glad to see you." 
 
 Tom Challoner's father was a Yorkshireman, 
 and Tom himself looked a " tyke " every inch. 
 Tall, broad-shouldered, almost burly, he had a 
 shrewd, merry, honest face, handsome enough in 
 its way — though his features were not refined, 
 like Keith's — close-cropped light hair, with the 
 first down of the coming whiskers and mous- 
 tache to match, and clear, bright, grey 
 eyes. 
 
 "But what has become of Keith?" was the 
 next enquiry. 
 
 " Oh, Keith stopped to speak to somebody in
 
 AULD LANG SYNE, 31 
 
 Buchanan Street," said Elsie. "He will be 
 here soon." 
 
 Just then supper was announced, and they 
 all went down to the dining-room, where, of 
 course, Uncle Harry had to give an account 
 of himself all over again, and Tom had to 
 give all sorts of information about his father 
 and mother. Then Tom and Elsie were very 
 anxious to know about the new cousin. 
 Mr. Carmichael told them as well as he 
 could. 
 
 " For one thing, Archie," he said in conclu- 
 sion, " she will be at home among all these 
 pictures of yours. I have had her properly 
 educated as an artist. She could actually earn 
 money by painting." 
 
 " I am exceedingly glad to hear it," said Mr. 
 Keith. Then he turned to his daughter. 
 
 "What do you think of that, Miss Idleness?" 
 
 " I think it is very nice of her," said Elsie, 
 " but I couldn't do any thing of the sort. I am 
 not clever, am I, Tom ? " 
 
 " Your ladyship is quite clever enough to get 
 your own way as a rule," said Tom. " What do 
 you say, uncle ? " 
 
 " Quite, Tom ! " said Mr. Keith, laughing.
 
 32 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " But you haven't told us what Paulme looks 
 like, Uncle Harry," Elsie insisted. 
 
 "I will show you," said he, "I have her 
 photograph in my overcoat-pocket." He rose to 
 go and get the photograph, but as he opened the 
 dining-room door he stopped short with an 
 exclamation of astonishment. Tom Challoner, 
 who had also risen, stood behind Mr. Carmichael 
 with a smile of intense amusement on his face. 
 
 " Well, I'll be " 
 
 But the remainder of Uncle Harry's speech 
 was suppressed.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 COINCIDENCES. 
 
 " Par divers moyens on arrive a pareille fin." 
 
 Montaigne. 
 
 KEITH'S business with his acquaintance did 
 not seem very important, and he soon 
 resumed his walk up the street. It would not 
 be an altogether uncharitable explanation of this 
 to suppose that Keith had simply made his 
 friend's appearance an excuse for dropping 
 behind, in order to let Tom and Elsie go home 
 by themselves. All true lovers, at least, will be 
 able to appreciate this performance of Keith's in 
 his character of judicious friend. It has been 
 remarked that " virtue is its own reward," and 
 that, as a rule, it gets no other. It is, how^ever, 
 the exception that proves the rule, and on this 
 occasion it fell to Keith's lot to be the exception. 
 His virtue was rewarded. Just as he got to the 
 corner of St. Vincent Street, he was accosted by 
 a little girl who was selling newspapers. 
 " Will ye have a paper, sir ? " she said. 
 
 3
 
 34 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Keith stopped and looked down on the little 
 creature, and so, for the first time, came under 
 the observation of a young lady who afterwards 
 became very important to him. This young lady 
 was in an omnibus which had just stopped at the 
 corner. She was sitting near the door, and 
 noticed Keith as he stood on the side-walk in the 
 lamplight, smiling pleasantly down on the little 
 news- seller — a tall, well-made young fellow, in 
 evening dress, with a pleasant face, frank and 
 clever -looking. The girl was evidently an 
 acquaintance. The young lady heard him ask 
 her why she had not gone home to bed, and 
 when the child objected that she had her papers 
 to sell, he bought the lot for a lump-sum — 
 probably in excess of their value — and sent her 
 off happy, with an ironical admonition that late 
 hours were not good for young ladies. Then, 
 unaware that he had been observed, he got into 
 the 'bus, just as it was moving off, and sat down 
 opposite his observer. 
 
 It was not long before Keith's attention was 
 attracted to his vis-a-vis^ and certainly she was 
 worth looking at. Of course he did not stare 
 at her, but no great amount of observation was 
 required to see that she was wonderfully sweet
 
 COINCIDENCES. 
 
 and pretty, and that she was perfectly dressed. 
 Keith first saw the sweetness of her face and 
 then its beauty, and then was struck — being an 
 observant young man — by the style of her dress, 
 which, however, had nothing unusual about it 
 but its quiet perfection and daintiness. 
 
 " What a pretty Quakeress she would make ! " 
 said Keith to himself. " But still she looks too 
 roguish for that — she should be a Huguenot. 
 She is not a Glasgow girl, at anyrate. She isn't 
 French, though her bonnet is, I fancy ; and she 
 is hardly English. There's a lot in her, though ; 
 and she is good as gold." 
 
 Then Keith turned his attention to the other 
 passengers, but did not find them so interesting. 
 
 The young lady, on the other hand, was not 
 unobservant. She has been attracted by Keith's 
 pleasant ways with the little news-seller, and now 
 found his face equally attractive in its gravity ; — 
 A somewhat square face, with a look of energy 
 and power — large grey eyes that seemed as if 
 they could be dreamy, or at least meditative at 
 times ; well-formed nose, and enough of it ; good 
 mouth ; and square chin, which the usual adorn- 
 ments of youthful manhood had not as yet 
 altogether obscured ; fair hair cropped pretty
 
 36 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 closely. That was the face as she saw it. He 
 was well got up, too, but not quite to the extent 
 of dandyism : he looked, in fact, like a man who 
 has many things to think of more important than 
 dress. Mademoiselle, too, made her comments. 
 
 " Looks a smart man — guess he likes his own 
 way — and takes it. Looks as if he could be 
 trusted, anyhow." From which it would appear 
 that Keith's doubt about her nationality had not 
 been unreasonable. 
 
 The omnibus was bound for " the Crescents," 
 but, before it had reached that enchanted region 
 of successful respectability, a heavy rain had 
 commenced to fall, and Keith noticed with con- 
 cern that the pretty Huguenot was but in- 
 differently provided ajainst such a change of 
 weather. 
 
 " It is to be hoped she has not far to go in this 
 rain," was his mental comment on this state of 
 affairs, "or she will be ill to a certainty." 
 
 The rain was still falling when the 'bus stopped 
 at the corner of St. George's Road, and the 
 young lady prepared to leave it. Keith got out, 
 and, after assisting an elderly lady to alight, 
 escorting her to the side-walk and putting up 
 her umbrella for her, had turned to see how
 
 COINCIDENCES. 37 
 
 Mademoiselle had fared, when she came up to 
 Keith's companion, but the old lady did not 
 know the address to which the young one wished 
 to be directed. 
 
 '^ I dinna ken, my dear," she said. " But may 
 be this young gentleman can tell ye." 
 
 And with this very informal introduction this 
 benevolent old party left the young people 
 together. 
 
 " You have got out at the wrong end of the 
 street," said Keith, " you should have gone on 
 half a mile or so further." 
 
 " Ah, no wonder I could not recognise the 
 place. I thought it was the corner where I got 
 into the car at first," said Mademoiselle. 
 
 " I am going partly your way," said Keith. 
 " I think you had better let me escort you, on 
 the strength of the old lady's — shall we say 
 ' provisional ' ? — introduction. It is not very far, 
 but it is quite far enough for you to get 
 thoroughly wet in this rain. I can at least 
 shelter you somewhat, unless, indeed, you would 
 prefer to take the umbrella and go on by 
 yourself ?" 
 
 " Oh no. Thank you. I could not think of 
 depriving you of it. But indeed I shall ^^be
 
 38 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 glad to accept your offer, as I am quite a 
 stranger in Glasgow, and I don't know whether 
 I could find my way after all. Yes, I think 
 the old lady's introduction will allow so much. 
 And perhaps my papa will be in when we get 
 to the hotel, and then we can put ourselves en 
 regie. But indeed I do not like to take you out 
 of your way." 
 
 " Oh, it is all right for that," was Keith's 
 reply. Then he looked at his watch and 
 laughed. " I rather fancy I am not wanted 
 just yet." 
 
 " Indeed," she said, " that can hardly be 
 pleasant, but I thank you for your kindness all 
 the same." 
 
 " Then you must allow me to exercise my 
 privilege," said Keith, " Do you know it is 
 almost dangerous for you to be out to-night 
 without being wrapped up? Permit me" — 
 and Keith took from a pocket in his overcoat a 
 large silk muffler, which he proceeded to wrap 
 round her throat. 
 
 All this time they had been standing by a 
 lamppost, and, as he rapidly adjusted the hand- 
 kerchief, Keith found himself looking down 
 upon the loveliest face he had ever seen. It
 
 COINCIDENCES. 39 
 
 was an oval face, with very delicate contours, 
 and a delicate, clear complexion ; large, soft, 
 clear brown eyes, with a somewhat wistful 
 expression ; features finely modelled, and es- 
 pecially a tenderly-curved, sensitive mouth ; fine 
 soft brown hair cunningly setting ofi* the 
 oval of the face. That was what Keith saw. 
 A face full of sweetness and tenderness and 
 goodness, and yet in its way a strong and 
 resolute face withal. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, and it seemed to 
 Keith that her voice corresponded to her face — 
 musical, clear, and soft, with a certain precise 
 delicacy of intonation that gave it individuality. 
 For the rest she was fairly tall, and her figure 
 was buoyant and graceful. 
 
 Nothing but commonplace had passed between 
 the two as they stood for that minute under the 
 lamplight in the rain. And yet years of cere- 
 monious intercourse could not have left such a 
 feeling of trust and mutual regard — not love at 
 all — at that sudden meeting, face to face as it 
 were, out of infinite space. When they walked 
 on they w^ere friends. 
 
 "You have not been long in Glasgow, I 
 
 suppose ? " said Keith.
 
 40 MEASVRE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " No, we only arrived this morning, and 1 
 don't know what ray papa will think if he comes 
 back to the hotel before me." 
 
 " You don't often go out by yourself, 
 then?" 
 
 " Well, not often, so late as this. But I 
 wanted to go and see an old place down town 
 that I have often heard my papa speak about ; 
 — he is Scotch, I should tell you ; — and so, as 
 he was going to be out late and I was tired 
 of being by myself, I thought I would go and 
 see the old chapel. The hotel-people told me 
 what cars to take, and I thought I had got on 
 very well, till I left the car and found I did not 
 know which way to go." 
 
 " Yes, I thought you had lost your way," said 
 Keith. 
 
 " That was the worst of it, and there was no 
 policeman to be seen. I believe it is considered 
 very shocking here to ask your way of anyone 
 except a policeman. The old lady was a great 
 relief." 
 
 " She was indeed," said Keith. " I am greatly 
 obliged to her myself. Do you know?" he 
 went on, " I am no great believer in Mrs. Grundy, 
 and I am inclined to think that this mode of
 
 COINCIDENCES. 41 
 
 making acquaintance is an improvement on the 
 formal introduction one gets in society." 
 
 " Indeed ? No doubt you have other acquaint- 
 ances made in the same way ? " 
 
 " No," said Keith, " I don't know that I have." 
 
 " Are you quite sure, " she said, laughingly, 
 " that you have not been talking already to-night 
 to someone to whom you have not been intro- 
 duced ? A young lady too ! " 
 
 "No, I don't think so," Keith answered 
 meditatively. " I met a fellow I knew in 
 Buchanan Street, and I bought a paper just 
 before I got into the omnibus." 
 
 '' Is it usual," she asked demurely, " for young- 
 gentlemen in Glasgow to buy a dozen copies of 
 the same paper? " 
 
 " I don't know that it is," said Keith, laugh- 
 ing in return. " But it was quite time the little 
 lass was in bed." 
 
 " Quite time. Still, I suppose it remains true 
 that you have not been introduced to the young- 
 lady ? I suppose I shall be told next that I am 
 out too late. When one is honoured with a 
 gentleman's acquaintance without an introduc- 
 tion, one must expect to be told that one is out 
 too late. Is that so ? "
 
 42 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Not exactly, I think," said Keith. " I have 
 hardly the superiority of age and experience that 
 would authorise me to advise your ladyship. 
 And, besides, if I may be permitted to say so, I 
 think your ladyship will probably be always the 
 best judge of what you should do." 
 
 " Now, that is very complimentary. You must 
 be a very delightful acquaintance, sir, if you 
 believe in your lady friends to that extent. — 
 And experience — dear me ! I might set up for 
 an old maid after that. I will change my name 
 and call myself ' Patience.' — Miss Patience ! — 
 what a treasure of a name for an old maid ! " 
 
 " The young ladies of my acquaintance," said 
 Keith drily, " are more given to changing their 
 surnames." 
 
 " Ah, that would be worse than ever. Nearly 
 all the girls I know in New York have lovers, 
 and there is always something wrong about them. 
 Sometimes they are poor, and that displeases 
 the parents. Sometimes they are rich, and 
 the girls really only wanted their money. 
 Sometimes they are faithless, and sometimes 
 quarrelsome ; and, when they are married, the 
 lovers do not always care for each other, and 
 they hardly ever seem really happy. No, I think
 
 C0INCIBENCE8. 43 
 
 friends are better than lovers ; and, anyhow, 
 none of these lovers were as nice as my 
 papa." 
 
 They had been walking up the Crescent, and by 
 this time were passing Mr. Keith's house. The 
 rain w^as coming down faster than ever. 
 
 '' I think you ought to have a cloak," said 
 Keith to his companion. " If you will allow me, 
 I will get , you one of ^my cousin's. But stay — 
 you had better come up the steps and under the 
 porch." Then he let himself in at the inner 
 glazed door with his latch-key, and Mademoiselle 
 found herself on the threshold of what seemed a 
 small picture-gallery. Attracted by the pictures, 
 she asked Keith if she might look at them, and 
 while he went for the cloak she made her round 
 of inspection. She was standing in rapt contem- 
 plation of " A Sunset over Loch Dhuil," when 
 she heard a door open behind her, and, turning 
 quickly, found herself face to face with her 
 father. 
 
 " Papa ! " 
 
 " Pauline ! " 
 
 '' Oh, papa, however did you come here ? " 
 
 Before Mr. Carmichael could answer, Tom 
 Challoner came forward.
 
 U MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Allow me, Mr. Carmichael," he said, " to 
 present to you my cousin. Dr. Keith Dunbar/' 
 
 Carmichael took one rapid look at the young 
 man's face, and then, wringing his hand warmly, 
 he said : 
 
 " I don't understand the situation exactly, but 
 I suppose you have been befriending this girl of 
 mine, and I thank you heartily." 
 
 By this time Mr. Keith and Elsie had come 
 into the hall. Pauline was presented in due form. 
 Her uncle and cousin fell in love with her at once 
 — and completely. They then went back into 
 the dining-room, and Pauline and Keith had to 
 have some supper. There was a good deal of 
 laughing about " Uncle Harry's photograph," 
 and Tom Challoner was hardly the sort of young- 
 man to forego such an opportunity of roasting 
 his irreproachable cousin. 
 
 " Nice sort of beggar you are, Keith," he 
 said sotto voce, " inveigling innocent young 
 ladies into strange houses in this fashion," and 
 then aloud : — " You don't know, cousin Pauline, 
 what an escape you have had ! " 
 
 " What have I escaped? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, you see, Keith wants to try the effect 
 of his last new p(jison on somebody. I have
 
 COINCIDENCES. 45 
 
 offered myself for the experiment, but, curiously 
 enough, poisons do not affect me Now you have 
 just the sort of constitution that would show — " 
 
 '' I have often remarked," interpolated Keith, 
 apparently addressing an impartial universe, 
 " that it is a pity Tom does not turn his attention 
 to the higher walks of fiction. Such exuberance 
 of imagination, to say nothing of the massive- 
 ness of his inventions, is thrown away in private 
 conversation." 
 
 Mr. Carmichael looked mischievous. 
 
 " I am not surprised, sir," he said, addressing 
 Tom, " that poisons have no effect on your con- 
 stitution. You will hardly remember the coral 
 you cut your teeth on, as a baby ; but it was one 
 I sent your mother. I got it from an Iroquois 
 squaw. It was medicated with various poisons. 
 You were thus inoculated against the effects of 
 poison in after-life. I have no doubt you were 
 fractious at the time, but still you have been 
 incalculably benefited. I had a similar coral for 
 Pauline ; so Dr. Keith's experiment would pro- 
 bably have failed." 
 
 "I suppose, Mi^s Pauline," said Keith, 
 " you have not brought your coral over with 
 you? I should like to borrow it."
 
 46 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I am sorry I have not brought it," said 
 Pauline. " You see, I gave over using it some 
 years ago. But surely," she added, with calm, 
 imperturbable innocence, " you are not so very 
 much younger than you look." 
 
 " You wouldn't think it, cousin," said Tom, 
 " but Keith is actually younger than I am." 
 
 " No wonder he wants a coral, then," retorted 
 Elsie, with a mischievous glance at Tom that 
 emphasised her insinuation charmingly. 
 
 "You see," said Keith, confidentially to 
 Pauline, " Tom's moral nature has been 
 deteriorated by this immunity from ills which 
 other men are heir to. And I thought that 
 perhaps a course of your coral, further medi- 
 cated by myself, might counteract this. It is 
 such a pity ! Who would believe that he had 
 no sense of truth, or honour, or propriety — or 
 even tune ! Why, it was only last Sunday that 
 his mother asked him to play the hundredth 
 psalm, and he ground out the ' Ratcatcher's 
 Daughter.' " 
 
 " Dear me,'' said Pauline, '' how very sad ! 
 And what did Mrs. Challoner say?" 
 
 " Oh," returned Keith, '' she did not exactly 
 recognise the air, but she thought the difference
 
 COINCIDENCES. 47 
 
 was due to Tom's splendid playing. And Mrs. 
 Crawfurd, who was present, thought it was 
 rather livelier than she was accustomed to. But 
 still, she could make the words fit, and so sup- 
 posed it was all right. Only she never knew 
 before that the hundredth psalm had a chorus. 
 It hasn't, you know, in the ordinary versions." 
 
 Here Mr. Carmichael interfered, and said they 
 must be going or they would find themselves 
 locked out. 
 
 " Oh, uncle," said Elsie, " are you going to 
 take Pauline away from us already ? " 
 
 " Couldn't you both stay to-night, Harry, at 
 all events ? " said Mr. Keith. And finally that 
 arrangement was agreed to. 
 
 Then, after a w^hile, Tom took his departure, and 
 the girls went off to their rooms, in one or other 
 of which, be sure, they had a feminine confab 
 before they went to bed. Keith and the uncles 
 adjourned to the snuggery and talked well into 
 the morning, and when the elders retired Keith 
 sat on there by himself. Mechanically he took 
 up the review he had been reading in the after- 
 noon. It was his habit to " read something like 
 a Christian " before he turned in. But he could 
 not read. He could only think of the bonny.
 
 48 MEASURE FOR MEASURE, 
 
 bonny face he had looked into in the lamplight; of 
 the girl's bright, happy talk ; and of the strange 
 chance that had brought them together. He 
 got out his manuscripts, but even his pet theory 
 could not command his attention. His own 
 hieroglyphics — the formulae for the carbon com- 
 pounds, with their incessantly-recurring C and H 
 — were in league against him and persisted in 
 suggesting her name, till Pauline secured as good 
 a name for an organic base as rosaniline itself. 
 At last the broadening day awoke him from his 
 reveries, and he went off to his bedroom like a 
 sleep-walker. 
 
 Oh wise physician ! There is a heart complaint 
 not mentioned in your books, not treated in your 
 hospitals, and forgotten in your clinical lectures. 
 Your skill avails not.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HUGH CRAWFURD. 
 
 '* But a crime will do 
 As well, 1 repeat, to serve as a test 
 As a virtue golden thro' and thro'." 
 
 R. JBrorvniny. 
 
 IT is not generally known that the daughter 
 of Zion — of Little Zion, perhaps we should 
 say — is a sufficiently romantic individual — no less 
 so, indeed, than her sisters of Philistia and the 
 regions beyond. Her ideal hero, however, 
 differs — perhaps only in externals — from the 
 engaging young gentlemen who act in that 
 capacity to these less well-regulated daughters of 
 Eve. Romance is a sealed book to her ; or, at 
 least, a forbidden one. And of men and women 
 she knows only the artificial growths of the 
 temple enclosure, the resources of which may be 
 paralleled by the botanical range of a kitchen 
 garden. Of course her ideal has to be evolved 
 from the life she knows, and the '' soldier " of the 
 cross, that is the man of God, becomes her hero, 
 Francis Xavier, the missionary, tbe preacher,
 
 50 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and, in default of these, the young man who 
 expounds. 
 
 Yet the woman-heart works in much the same 
 way whether it beats against the bars of a French 
 corset or under the Quaker kerchief, and ever 
 demands in its hero some virile distinction. But 
 the ability to 
 
 " Clear the points o' faith 
 wi' rattlin' an' wi' thumping," 
 
 or without, by no means implies the possession 
 either of mental ability or of good looks. Beauty, 
 such as young people can recognise, is hardly 
 the function of the common objects of the pulpit. 
 In fact the conjunction of intellect and manhood 
 with piety of the conventicle type is not an 
 occurrence whose frequency excites remark. 
 
 But to the maidenhood of Little Zion it 
 appeared that these blessings had been bestowed 
 in full measure on Hugh Crawfurd. Young, 
 handsome, clever, wealthy, he was quoted by aged 
 Christians as a shining example of early piety 
 and abounding gifts of grace. Certainly his life 
 was exemplary; his profession had the merit of 
 such sincerity as he had in him — the negative 
 sincerity of knowing nothing to the contrary; 
 his opinions were eminently orthodox, and his 
 expositions thereof in the various ancillary means
 
 HUGH CRA WFURD. 51 
 
 of grace — he was not a preacher, his father 
 opposed that — were as dogmatic as the most 
 assured believer could desire. Indeed, he spoke 
 the spiritual vernacular — the argot, so to speak — 
 of the conventicle, with artistic appreciation of its 
 niceties of expression that was very delightful. 
 He was an adept at that style of theological dis- 
 cussion which consists in overloading your case 
 with ad Ga])tancliim statements — " playing to the 
 gallery," an actor would call it — and calling your 
 opponent an infidel when he questions their 
 relevance to the argument. Thus certain young 
 men, his contemporaries of the chapel Mutual 
 Admiration Society, used to say roundly that 
 Hugh was an ass — that he could not argue, and 
 that he was as ignorant as a Hottentot, even of 
 theology, the amateur theology of such societies. 
 It is grievous to have to relate that these young 
 men used to lead Hugh into argumentative pit- 
 falls, from which his most asseverating orthodoxy 
 could not save him. Hugh, however, had the 
 audience on his side, and took little damage in 
 these logical martyrdoms ; for these young men 
 were strongly suspected of heterodoxy, or even 
 of having no " doxy " at all — a most parlous state 
 of things. Cleverness and scholarship evidently 
 
 4—2 
 
 UNivERsrry of ilunois
 
 52 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 
 
 had a tendency to set a young man to doubting 
 the tradition of the elders, and were not 
 altogether compatible with the grace of God in 
 he heart. The young women, however, made no 
 such mistake ; they liked Hugh very well. He 
 was a very delightful, or a very edifying, com- 
 panion, according to the circumstances of the 
 occasion, and would suavely banter a mother in 
 Israel or flirt with her daughter with equal 
 facility. Flirt ? Flirt in Little Zion ! Why 
 not ? Is a woman any less a woman because 
 you and she are looking over the same hymn- 
 book instead of reading Swinburne together ? 
 Humanity varies its dissipations, but not its 
 nature. Put a lot of young men and young 
 women in the bottomless pit, and they will flirt 
 — as soon as they get acclimatised. 
 
 To come back to Hugh Crawfurd, he was 
 simply a well-meaning young fellow enough, very 
 ignorant, very narrow. Of scholarship he knew 
 nothing, of culture he knew nothing, of anything 
 outside of business and Little Zion he knew 
 nothing. Had he been brought up in the Brazen 
 Tower of the fable, he could hardly have been 
 more isolated from the many-pulsing life of the 
 world — so much of it at least as throbbed beyond
 
 HUGH CRAWFURD 53 
 
 the swirl of the little back-eddy of which he 
 formed a part. But — or perhaps Hugh had 
 better make his appearance. 
 
 He was not very tall — say about five feet 
 eight or nine ; he had a very good figure, some- 
 what slight, but still w^ell -built and graceful, 
 with broad, flat shoulders and small hands and 
 feet ; his complexion had an interesting pallor ; 
 his forehead, though not high, showed square 
 and white beneath his dark hair ; his eyes 
 were good, and set ofl" by dark level eyebrows ; 
 his nose was straight, and a heavy moustache 
 hid the weakness of his mouth and the sensu- 
 ousness of the lower part of his face. To an 
 observer of character, too, the back of his head 
 had its significance ; it formed such a straight 
 line with his neck. This gave one a strong 
 impression of brute force, which, taken in con- 
 nection with the contrasting intelligence and 
 sensuousness of his face, gave the data for an 
 interesting psychological problem, even apart 
 from the complications superinduced by the 
 emotional influences of Little Zion. Thinkinof 
 of Hugh as he w^as at this time, one thinks of 
 the house that was '* swept and garnished " — 
 waiting, for what %
 
 54 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 It is a question if Hugh Crawfurd ever had a 
 fair chance in life. Mr. Keith's opinion that 
 his strict " upbringing " had a great deal to 
 answer for, was, at least, the opinion of a 
 thoughtful and observant man acquainted with 
 all the circumstances of the case. A strong 
 animalism is the best reinforcement of a fine 
 intellect, but it must have its own legitimate 
 sphere of activity. In Hugh's case this had been 
 denied. He had never been allowed to indulge 
 in the athletic sports of other young men. Such 
 amusements were considered frivolous in them- 
 selves, and dangerous as leading to the com- 
 panionship of worldlings. Just as though any 
 company almost would not have been better for 
 this boy than his own, or than the essentially 
 feminine — not to say effeminate — society to 
 which he was practically restricted. The atmos- 
 phere of an emotionally religious community 
 tends naturally to become charged with the 
 conditions of spiritual hysteria. And these con- 
 ditions reacting upon weak natures whose 
 animalism is strong occasionally produces some 
 very ugly results indeed. Hugh had the makings 
 of a fine man in him. But he was weak, though 
 it must be confessed his weakness was rather an
 
 HUGH CM A WFURD. 55 
 
 acquired defect of moral habit than any original 
 defect of moral nature. He had, too, that facile 
 plasticity of adaptation to surrounding circum- 
 stances which passes with so many people for 
 good nature, and with this an intense egotism. 
 Altogether it is to be feared that Hugh's moral 
 nature had not been suited in the matter of 
 environment. And yet in this respect he would 
 have said of himself in all sincerity : — " All these 
 things have I kept from my youth up." 
 
 When Hugh Crawfurd left Mr. Keith, he 
 walked thoughtfully away down the Crescent. 
 Then he came to a pause, and stood as if 
 undecided which way to go. Looking at his 
 watch, he found it was only half-past eight. " I 
 may as well go," he said, " even if it is only for 
 an hour or so." And he retraced his steps up the 
 Crescent, turning the corner by Mr. Keith's 
 house, and making his way down the hill at the 
 back to St. George's Road. Then up West 
 Graham Street he came to the district of the 
 New City Road. Here, in a quiet cross street, he 
 stopped again irresolute; then went on again 
 into another quiet street. He entered a narrow 
 passage leading to the stone staircase which 
 communicated with all the floors in the block.
 
 56 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and, ascending to the top landing, let himself in 
 at one of its doors with a latch-key. Locking 
 the door behind him, Hugh found himself in a 
 little dark lobby ; but a door beyond opened, 
 showing a bright little kitchen as a background 
 to the figure of a gir] who stood in the doorway 
 for an instant, and then sprang forward and 
 embraced him lovingly. 
 
 " Oh Hugh, my darling ! " she said, " I have 
 wanted you so." 
 
 Hugh kissed her, tenderly enough, and led her 
 back into the little bright kitchen. Then she 
 had to help him off with his light overcoat, and 
 it appeared that this operation could not be satis- 
 factorily effected without the accompaniment of 
 more kisses. Then she stepped back to admire 
 him, and certainly the young fellow looked hand- 
 some enough in his faultless evening dress ; and 
 his companion was buxom and bonnie as need be 
 wished. 
 
 She was of medium height, and had a good, 
 full figure. Her face was not at all of a common 
 type. Her fine wavy hair was not fair, and could 
 not be called dark — ash-colour or mouse-colour 
 would nearly describe the tint, but these epithets 
 trive no hint of the misty lights and shadows that
 
 HUGH CRA WFURD. 57 
 
 lurked in its misty meshes and gave it its beauty. 
 Misty light grey eyes set beneath level eyebrows, 
 a low broad forehead, a short straight nose, 
 dimpled chin and cheeks, and a delicate peach- 
 bloom complexion, made up a tender, dreamy, 
 misty face — the face of a loving and true 
 woman. 
 
 '' My Faith hath misty hair, and eyes 
 You cannot tell their changing hue." 
 
 Some such face must have suggested those 
 lines ; albeit, it was a short-sighted face, in more 
 senses than one. 
 
 " You ought to have a flower in your coat, 
 sir," she said, '' when you come to see your 
 wife." She was still admiring him from a little 
 distance. " But I suppose you have been to a 
 party and have given it to some fine lady." 
 
 " No, I have been to no party," said Hugh ; 
 " precious little of that sort of thing comes my 
 way. A Dorcas-meeting or a tea-fight would be 
 a more likely performance, but they are not for 
 Saturday night. I believe I am supposed to be 
 gone to a prayer-meeting, only I didn't go." 
 
 " Ah well ! he's a good boy for coming to see 
 his poor wife, and she has got something for 
 him. Take off your coat, dear." She went into 
 another room and came back carrying a hand-
 
 58 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 some flowered dressing-gown, into which Hugh 
 was inducted with more kisses. Indeed, this 
 young person seemed to think that everything 
 she did for Hugh required this sacramental oscu- 
 lation. Certainly, as the " outward and visible 
 sign of an inward and spiritual grace " on her 
 part, the kissing seemed to come within the defi- 
 nition of a sacrament. 
 
 " Now he shall have a smoke, the good boy," 
 she said, when she had got Hugh comfortably 
 seated in a low easychair by the fire. She 
 made a curious pretence of selecting a cigar with 
 the most critical judgment. Then she kissed it, 
 and bit off the end with her pretty white teeth, 
 making a little moue of disgust as she tasted the 
 tobacco. She got the matches and seated her- 
 self on his knee. Whereupon she, of course, 
 kissed him again. After that she gave him the 
 cigar and lighted it for him. These formalities 
 completed, she laid herself back in his arms, 
 with her pretty head resting on his shoulder, 
 his disengaged hand held caressingly in both of 
 hers, and her shapely feet lodged on the fender, 
 in her bright slippers and dark stockings, while 
 a little glimpse of white petticoat just showed 
 below her o-rev dress.
 
 HUGH CRAWFURD. 59 
 
 " You're a good girl, Violet," said Hugh, as 
 she settled herself. 
 
 " I'm your wife, dear, I ought to be good to 
 you," was the tender response. " Isn't this nice, 
 dear?" 
 
 " Yes," said Hugh, '"' it's very nice. I wish I 
 had not to go away again." 
 
 '* Aren't you going to stay to night, then, 
 dearest ? " 
 
 "No, I must show up at home." 
 
 "At home indeed! Isn't this your home, sir? " 
 
 " Yes, darling, but you know what I mean," 
 said Hugh. " Perhaps I may get over to-morrow 
 for tea, and again later. If we have supper 
 decently early, prayers will be over at ten, and 
 the doors locked by half-past. And I may be 
 able to get here by eleven or soon after." 
 
 " Very well, I'll have such a nice little 
 supper for you. And you'll have some supper 
 with me to-night before you go, won't you 
 dearest ] " 
 
 " Yes, darling," said Hugh, who was always 
 really and truly in love with this girl while he 
 was with her. But when he was away from her 
 he was apt to be mostly in love with himself 
 and his own convenience.
 
 60 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " How is your mother, Hugh ? " she asked. 
 
 " Much as usual," he said. 
 
 " She was very hard to me," Violet went on. 
 ''I might have been starved to death by this 
 time, but for you, my darling. It was cruel of 
 her to send me away as she did, and to take 
 away my character and my whole chance of 
 getting another situation. It was very cruel. 
 I had done no wrong." 
 
 '' No, dear, you had done no wrong." 
 
 " No, I had done no wrong. I had not even 
 encouraged you, although I loved you so much, 
 had I dear?" 
 
 " No, that you hadn't," said Hugh. 
 
 " And as for Dr. Dunbar," she went on, " I 
 am sure he hardly spoke to me at all." 
 
 " Quite true, darling." 
 
 " And how was I to go to the dear folks at 
 home disgraced? It would have killed my 
 father. And I would have almost died first." 
 
 " Indeed, I think you would," said Hugh. 
 
 *' But you were so good to me. Oh, my love, 
 my love, what have I done that you should be 
 so good to me? " 
 
 So they sat by the fire and talked, and Hugh 
 gave himself up to the enjoyment of it, as he
 
 HUGH CRAW FURD. Gl 
 
 did to whatever pleasure came in his way, and 
 the girl lavished her beautiful words of tender 
 love upon him to her heart's content. And 
 by-and-by she got up and set before him a dainty 
 little supper, waiting upon him with a liberal 
 bestowal of the sacramental ministration above 
 mentioned. 
 
 '' Do you know, dearest," she said, during a 
 pause in the proceedings, " when you tell people 
 about our marriage, I don't want to live in a 
 great stupid house like that one in Blythswood 
 Square. I want us to have just a nice little 
 cottage for our two selves. We could afford a 
 nice httle cottage in the country, like my dear 
 Yorkshire home. Couldn't we, dearest? " 
 
 '' Perhaps we will, dear," and for the moment, 
 at anyrate, Hugh honestly meant to get quit of 
 his coils and live a true life with Violet, and he 
 thought of Mr. Keith's offer of help. 
 
 " And at anyrate, dear," said Violet, " couldn't 
 we run over to Scarsdale some of these days 
 when you have a holiday? We could stay with 
 my mother, and I do so want to show you to my 
 mother, Hugh." 
 
 " Well perhaps we might manage that, though 
 I don't see much chance of my getting away for
 
 62 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 some time, and especially of getting away by 
 myself." 
 
 This chance did not seem so impossible in the 
 presence of this eager advocate, and yet it some- 
 how dashed his good resolutions : it might involve 
 more inquiry into his conduct than he cared to 
 court. 
 
 " You know, dearest," said Violet, " I have 
 told them about our marriage having to be kept 
 secret, and you need not be afraid of them 
 bothering you about that. It is enough for them 
 to know that I am married." 
 
 " Well, my dear, we'll do it if it is possible, 
 and if I can't get off you shall go yourself for a 
 while. You ought to have the chance of showing 
 them your wedding-ring, certainly." And for 
 the time Hugh meant what he said. 
 
 " Have you seen Mr. Keith yet ? " Violet 
 asked, later in the evening. 
 
 " Yes. That's settled," said Hugh. " For one 
 thing, it will keep my mother quiet for a time. 
 I don't see where she can raise another scheme 
 of the sort in a hurry." 
 
 " Your mother will find a scheme of some sort, 
 Hugh, you may depend upon that. She will 
 give you no peace, my poor boy, till you stop her
 
 HUGH CRAWFURD. (-.3 
 
 matchmakiug by telling her about me. How- 
 ever, as you say, she can't get up another marriage 
 for you just yet. It was fortunate she chose 
 Elsie this time." 
 
 " It was," said Hugh, as though his refusal had 
 been a foregone conclusion. 
 
 About ten o'clock Hugh was aw^ay, and, this 
 time, a short walk over Garnet Hill took him to 
 Blytbswood Square. He was just in time to 
 officiate at family " worship " in his father's 
 absence, and then, complaining of a headache, he 
 went up to his own room without waiting for 
 supper. Presently his mother knocked at his 
 door. She had brought him some supper and 
 wanted to see him eat it. 
 
 " What did Mr. Keith say ? " she asked. 
 
 " Said it was no good," was the answer. '' He 
 had already decided about Elsie. Would not 
 even let me speak to her." 
 
 " Was he displeased with you, or what ? " 
 
 " No, he was very good," said Hugh, remem- 
 bering Mr. Keith's kind words. " But he means 
 no." 
 
 '^ Where's your courage, man ? " said Mrs. 
 Crawfurd. " Are you going to be beaten by a 
 simple refusal ? If you had been half a man you
 
 64 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 would have got the girl on your side first. 
 Archibald Keith would give that girl his head 
 if she asked him for it. Ic is my opinion 
 you're still hankering after that minx Violet 
 Danby." 
 
 "All very fine, mother." Hugh was anxious to 
 create a diversion. " Tackle Mr. Keith yourself, 
 if you like. And as for Elsie — what chance 
 have I with Tom Challoner or Keith Dunbar. 
 I believe she would rather take up with Max 
 Kuthven, who is as poor as a rat, or even with 
 David Eaeburn and his hunchback, than with me." 
 
 " I'll give Archie Keith a piece of my mind 
 when I see him," said Mrs. Crawfurd. 
 
 " You will make very little by that, mother," 
 said Hugh. " I have heard you say that nothing 
 will turn Mr. Keith, if he once takes a thing 
 in his head. Now, whatever his plan is, he 
 means it." 
 
 " I can't see why my son should not be good 
 enough for Archie Keith's daughter." 
 
 " I suppose it's a free country," retorted Hugh, 
 " and the man can choose as he likes for his 
 daughter. By-the-by, he told me to say that 
 Harry Carmichael is in Glasgow. Who is Harry 
 Carmichael ? "
 
 HUGH CRAWFURD. 65 
 
 " Hany Carmichael ! " said Mrs. Crawfurd in 
 astonishment. " Depend upon it, then, Harry- 
 has a son, and Archie Keith means his daughter 
 for him." 
 
 " Then there'll be a row with Keith or Tom 
 Challoner, it strikes me," was Hugh's comment 
 on this view of the situation. 
 
 But Mrs. Crawfurd had retired precipitately, 
 not wishing to have to answer questions about 
 " Harry Carmichael." Hugh locked his door 
 and sat down to think. He would have liked to 
 smoke, but that would not do in this saintly 
 establishment. 
 
 "Wouldn't it be better," he thought, "to 
 acknowledge his marriage, and give up this 
 wearisome double life? There would be a row 
 with his mother certainly, but she would still do 
 her duty even to Violet as her daughter-in-law. 
 But then the exposure ! His mother would keep 
 no secrets, that was very certain. What would 
 be said to such a marriage ? Was the marriage 
 all right ? Would they want to look into details 
 — the certificates for instance ; or would they 
 want to marry him over again? Ah, the 
 exposure ! — what would the chapel people say ? 
 
 Ah well, there was no need to do anything 
 
 5
 
 66 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 definite for the present. Mr. Keith's refusal 
 would keep his mother quiet for some little time, 
 and who knows what might turn up meanwhile ? 
 Perhaps it would be as well if Violet and he did 
 pay that visit to Yorkshire, acknowledgment 
 would be easier from a distance. It would save 
 a good deal of inconvenient questioning. After 
 all, there was nothing to hurry about." 
 
 This was the line of meditation to which Hugh 
 gave himself up. — No thought of Violet's un- 
 selfish, generous love, or of the false position he 
 was creating for her in keeping the marriage 
 concealed. All his thought was for himself and 
 his precious reputation. God help poor 
 Violet !
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 
 
 *' Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall." 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 LITTLE Zion had its dissipations. That is 
 only to say that it was a society of men 
 and women, and followed out on its own lines the 
 gregarious instincts of humanity. Its members 
 as a rule did not recognise the social obligations 
 of life to any great extent, but then their neigh- 
 bours of the same social stratum who were not 
 in the fold did not recognise them either. Little 
 Zion, however, had the advantage of being a 
 companionship, and forms of social life grew 
 up in it as ancillary means of grace. For the 
 most part these were public or semi-public. But 
 the cravings of human nature — especially of 
 feminine human nature — are strong. These 
 meetings supplied no opportunity for the feminine 
 function of gossip. The men met each other, 
 and met other men out in the world of work and 
 
 business. They were sufficiently provided with 
 
 5—2
 
 68 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 
 
 opportunities of social intercourse. But the 
 women — well the women folk established the 
 Dorcas meeting. At stated intervals they met 
 at various houses to spend long afternoons over 
 needlework which they could have done better 
 at home, to drink tea together, and to talk, talk, 
 talk. To tell the truth, the talk ran a good 
 deal to scandal. They were good souls for the 
 most part, kindly and true-hearted in all the 
 relations of life, and yet given two or three 
 gathered together, there was scandal in the 
 midst of them. Well, perhaps the institution 
 of social cannibalism is met with outside of 
 Little Zion. But to proceed. In the evening, 
 husbands, fathers, and brothers put in an 
 appearance, and the affair ended as something 
 very like an informal evening party. Sweet- 
 hearts — as sweethearts — were not en regie. But 
 they came nevertheless. The sweetheart came 
 for 
 
 '' His sisters and his cousins and his aunts," 
 
 although cousinhood was considered an unsatisfac- 
 tory relationship, and by some of the stricter 
 matrons was relegated to the list of prohibited 
 degrees. The advent of the gentlemen rather inter- 
 fered with the work, but, as the work, did not
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 69 
 
 amount to much at the best, that did not matter. 
 The real value of the work lay in its " induced " 
 sociableness, which without it would have been 
 impossible. Eich and poor met on a common 
 footing, and that was an unmixed good. True 
 the ostensible object of the meeting was a trans- 
 parent fiction, but the good folks never saw through 
 it, their hypocrisy was so deliciously innocent and 
 unconscious. They thought they were denying 
 themselves for the good of others — they were 
 really obeying an instinct of the human nature 
 they condemned. 
 
 Mrs. Crawfurd took advantage of a sewing 
 meeting, held at her house, to introduce Mr. 
 Carmichael to the world of Little Zion, to which 
 he had so long been a stranger. Pauline and 
 Elsie were invited. They were to attend at three 
 o'clock in the afternoon; their fathers were to 
 look in in the evening. Keith was not invited. 
 There was little love lost between that young 
 man and Mrs. Crawfurd. 
 
 Accordingly, on the afternoon appointed, the 
 girls found themselves in Mrs. Crawfurd's drawing- 
 room in the midst of a chattering company of all- 
 sorts and conditions of women. Each lady was 
 provided with work. '' Work " is not an expres-
 
 70 MEASURE FOR 31 E A SURE. 
 
 sion that rises to the height of the occasion, but 
 the masculine mind is inadequate to the detail 
 of such matters ; still, the masculine mind could 
 not have helped noticing that all the various 
 employments had one characteristic in common — 
 they appeared to stimulate conversation, much 
 after the fashion — to compare great things with 
 small — of the glasses of grog and the pipes in a 
 bar-parlour or coffee-room snuggery ; at least, 
 whatever the employment allotted to any given 
 lady, it made so little demand on her attention 
 that she was quite at liberty to contribute her 
 quota to the general babel. 
 
 Elsie had managed to get herself and Pauline 
 into a comparatively quiet corner with some of 
 her girl friends, for Mrs. Crawfurd had not 
 confined the gathering to the members of the 
 society. The hostess was busy with some other 
 ladies, matrons like lierself of approved capacity, 
 distributing work to the rest, so that it was 
 some time before she was at leisure to present 
 Pauline to the two or three ancient dames who 
 had been her father's contemporaries. This 
 presentation was somewhat of an ordeal to the 
 girl. Some of these excellent ladies were 
 inclined to look askance at their old friend's
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 7l 
 
 daughter. Her dress offended them in spite 
 of its extreme quietness and simplicity. Such a 
 fashionably-dressed young person could scarcely 
 be a child of God. Then Pauline was beautiful, 
 and vital to the finger-tips. These were even 
 worse offences than the dainty dressing. To 
 these good people a beautiful woman was a 
 sinful woman in posse. Even in a child of 
 grace good looks could only be tolerated as it 
 were under protest. And vitality was alto- 
 gether inconsistent with a changed nature. 
 Altogether Pauline was glad to get back to her 
 friends in the corner, who for the most part 
 were outsiders like herself. 
 
 On such occasions the evening dinner was 
 dispensed \vith, and the lords of creation got 
 instructions to dine in town. On this particular 
 evening, however, Mr. Crawfurd, with his sons 
 James and Hugh, dined with Mr. Keith, and 
 Mr. Challoner and Tom were of the party. All 
 these gentlemen's domestic arrangements had 
 been more or less disturbed by the sewing 
 meeting, and they revenged themselves by 
 abusing the institution to each other over their 
 dinner. Nevertheless they enjoyed themselves, 
 and their meeting was harmonious, which was
 
 721 2IEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 perhaps more than could be said of the other 
 one. 
 
 At six o'clock the ladies adjourned down- 
 stairs to the dining-room for tea. At tea the 
 conversation became general, and even, with the 
 second cup, gossipy. And gradually the gossip 
 worked round to the special scandal which 
 everyone had expected would form the staple 
 entertainment of the evening. 
 
 But really, it is time to introduce Mrs. Craw- 
 furd herself. Well, then, to begin with, she was 
 an irreproachable woman — the sort of woman 
 whose dress always hangs well, whose ribbons 
 are always crisp, whose lace is never crumpled — 
 who did not know the meaning of the word 
 " dishabille." The most riotous baby never 
 seemed able to ruffle her cap-strings — she could 
 watch, night after night, at a sickbed without 
 getting either her dress, or her hair, or her 
 nerves out of order, and she was so capable and 
 sagacious that her friends were greatly in the 
 habit of relying upon her in emergencies. She 
 was tall, and her figure might have been fuller 
 with advantage. Her features were good, but 
 her face had a pinched look. Her lips were thin, 
 her eyes cold, and her cheeks colourless, though
 
 A I) OH CAS MEETING. 73 
 
 she had the remains of a once fine and clear 
 complexion. Her hair was of that shade of very 
 light brown that seems peculiar to very correct 
 people, and is so long in turning grey. In fact, 
 the Mary Huntly Mr. Keith spoke of must have 
 been pretty. But her youthful contours had 
 hardened into the virginal angularities of an old 
 maid, instead of the comfortable placidities of 
 the matron. Her motherhood of many children 
 had not slackened the uprightness of her bear- 
 ing, or impaired the elasticity of her step. She 
 gave one the impression of having been planned 
 as one of those Madonna-like women who satisfy 
 the eye and the spirit with the fulness of their 
 large natures, and of having shrivelled up in 
 early womanhood — an impression, in fact, oi 
 arrested development. She was fitly typified by 
 her voice, and, as Keith Dunbar once said, " her 
 voice was like an east wind." But in her hard, 
 narrow way, Mrs. Crawfurd was a good woman 
 — resolute in duty, and rigidly truthful even in 
 the excitement of gossip, which is more than 
 could be said for some better people. She was 
 staunch in her friendships and equally staunch 
 in her dislikes. She was a kind and indulgent 
 mother as regards all material things, and yet
 
 74 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 more or less starved her children's natures for 
 want of sympathy. She was liberal and self- 
 denying in her giving of time, trouble, and sub- 
 stance for the benefit of others — regfardino: her 
 benefactions as bribes to induce the recipients 
 to walk the more strenuously in what she laid 
 down as the right way. Was it altogether her 
 fault that she did not give what she had not got 
 — sympathy ? How should such a strong, fault- 
 less woman, who had never known an over- 
 mastering emotion or an unfulfilled duty — how 
 should she have sympathy with the aberrations 
 of fuller or weaker natures ? 
 
 Such was Mary Crawfurd as she sat at the 
 head of her tea-table, handsomely dressed in 
 black silk and old lace, the very personification 
 of '' prunes and prism." But this estimable 
 woman was experiencing a new sensation, an 
 uneasy feeling of possible wrongdoing on her 
 part — a misgiving that perhaps she had not 
 been quite just to Violet Danby. And so when 
 that young lady became the subject of conversa- 
 tion, Mrs. Crawfurd embraced the opportunity 
 of justifying her own conduct to herself. 
 
 One of the mothers in Israel opened the 
 ball :—
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 75 
 
 " You have not got a new governess yet, Mrs. 
 Crawfurd ?" she said. 
 
 " Have you parted with Miss Danby, then ? " 
 asked another, before Mrs. Crawfurd could reply. 
 
 " I had to send her away," said that lady in a 
 tone of superior virtue, " she was altogether too 
 worldly and too light in her conduct for a 
 Christian household." 
 
 " Indeed ?" said several ladies at once. They 
 evidently regarded this as the official announce- 
 ment of the subject of discussion, and their tones 
 said as plainly as words, "- Please tell us all 
 about it." 
 
 " I was always afraid," interpolated the first 
 speaker, " that it was scarcely prudent to have 
 such a yoiing person in the house with your 
 sons." Which speech, being interpreted, means, 
 in plain English, that the association of a young 
 man with a young and pretty woman was 
 certain to result in disaster. Miss Danby had 
 committed the unpardonable crime of being 
 graciously beautiful and sweet. 
 
 " My sons," replied the virtuous hostess, 
 " have been too well brought up to have any- 
 thing to do with young women in her position. 
 But all young men have not had their advantages.
 
 76 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and it seemed to me that Miss Danby did not 
 alwaj^s keep young men at their proper distance." 
 What the " proper distance " was, Mrs. Crawfurd 
 did not explain, but her audience understood her 
 perfectly well. A good many of the ancient 
 dames went in for the same " vicarious " pro- 
 priety in their own cases as a set off against the 
 flirtations of their youth. 
 
 " She was very young," suggested Miss Susan 
 Fairlie, a lame old maid, who had kept her 
 natural kindness of heart. 
 
 " She was not too young to encourage young 
 men to talk to her," replied Mrs. Crawfurd with 
 an emphasis that implied some impropriety in 
 Miss Fairlie's defence. 
 
 " I don't think the young men ever required 
 any encouragement to talk to Violet," said Elsie, 
 who had been longing to say some word in 
 defence of her friend. " Even my cousin Keith 
 used to talk to her, and he doesn't waste his 
 time much in talking to girls." To Elsie's mind 
 Keith's interest in Violet was the strongest 
 possible proof of her worth no less than of her 
 attractions. 
 
 " It is a pity Keith ever wasted his time 
 talking to Miss Danby," was Mrs. Crawfurd's
 
 A I) OB CAS 3IEETING. 77 
 
 retort. " Your cousin, Elspeth, is only a young 
 man after all, and is as likelj to be led away as 
 other young men." 
 
 " I don't think he is," said Elsie, who was a 
 brave girl in defence of those she loved, "and 
 Violet is as good a girl as ever lived." And 
 Elsie's cheeks flushed and her eyes glowed with 
 a generous indignation as she flung down her 
 challenge. 
 
 " You are quite right to stand up for your 
 friends, Elsie dear," said gentle Mrs. Challoner, 
 " but you must let other people have their own 
 opinions, even where they differ from yours. 
 You and I believe in Violet, but everybody is not 
 obliged to do the same." 
 
 " Where is Miss Danby now?" asked the first 
 mother in Israel, because that was the first 
 thing that came into her head, and she had an 
 idea of turning the conversation. 
 
 " You had better ask Miss Keith," said Mrs. 
 Crawfurd, icily, '' or perhaps Dr. Dunbar would 
 know." 
 
 " She is married, and living in Glasgow," said 
 Elsie simply. 
 
 " I am glad to hear she is married," said Mrs. 
 Crawfurd, with a toss of her head which said
 
 78 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 plainly enough, ''But it's more than I ex- 
 pected.'* 
 
 '' Have you seen her, Elsie? " one of the girls 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh yes, she called on me the other day," 
 said Elsie, as if Violet's visit had been the most 
 natural thing in the world. Mrs. Challoner 
 seemed to be going to speak, but checked her- 
 self : and the first mother in Israel, by way of 
 carrying on the conversation easily, put the 
 question : — 
 
 " How do you know she is married, Miss 
 Keith?" 
 
 Now Elsie was not used to having her word 
 doubted, and she was a proud sensitive girl to 
 boot. What appeared to her a direct attack on 
 her friend's honour roused her to a new indigna- 
 tion. She drew herself up, looked her inter- 
 locutor straight in the eyes, and said with clear 
 deliberate emphasis that carried conviction to 
 her hearers : — 
 
 "It should be enough that I say it, Mrs. 
 McSlimon." 
 
 It was enough. Elsie had established her 
 friend's reputation upon an unassailable basis, 
 and the interest died out of the subject when it
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 79 
 
 appeared there was to be no scandal. So other 
 victims were selected for vivisection, and the 
 ghoul's banquet proceeded. 
 
 By-and-by, they all returned to the drawing- 
 room. On the way Miss Susan Fairlie was being 
 helped upstairs by Elsie and Pauline. She 
 pressed her poor old withered hand on Elsie's 
 shoulder : — 
 
 " Eh, Miss Elspeth," she said, " that was 
 spoken like yer faither's dochter. I'm real glad 
 ye spak up for the puir young thing. She was 
 jist as winsome and bonnie a lass as could well 
 be, and she was as kin' as yersel'. I min' she 
 aye helpit me up the stairs when I was here. 
 I'm feart there's an unco speerit o' detraction 
 among us whiles. An' we're aye some hard on 
 the young folks, I'm thinking." 
 
 " I could not but speak for her," said Elsie, 
 '' I love her dearly. But what did Mrs. Craw- 
 furd mean about Keith ? " 
 
 " Aweel," said Miss Susan, " I wadna' fash 
 about that, gin I wer' you. Mary Crawfurd's 
 no that fond o' yer cousin." 
 
 " I am sure," said Pauline, " she meant some- 
 thing bad." 
 
 In the drawing-room the ladies broke up into
 
 80 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 knots again, and did more talking and less work 
 than before. Towards eight o'clock the gentle- 
 men began to arrive, and a good deal of the 
 work, consisting of — well, garments — was cleared 
 away. AVhen Tom Challoner arrived with the 
 young Crawfurds, he found Mr. Peter McSlimon, 
 junior, engaged, with the assistance of the Rev. 
 Gervase Her — a young divine of prepossessing 
 appearance and limited intellect, in making 
 himself agreeable to Pauline and Elsie and their 
 friends. These worthies were parading the small 
 talk supposed to be appropriate to the occasion 
 and suitable to the feminine intellect, but to 
 their surprise their vast condescension was 
 quite lost upon the benighted damsels. Tom's 
 advent put an end to these hetises. He 
 got hold of a friend of his and his wife, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Philip Eey, and introduced them to the 
 group. Very soon the conversation took a more 
 natural tone. Mr. Key — very curiously for a 
 leading member of Little Zion — had a strong 
 natural vein of humour, and a power of inven- 
 tion not inferior to Tom's own. So they were 
 very soon " swopping yarns " — as Mr. Carmichael 
 described it when he came in — to the enjoyment 
 even of the vapid young men they had supplanted,
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 
 
 and who, in turn, began to evince a joviality and 
 naturalness very foreign to their usual demeanour. 
 Mr. Carmichael and Mr. Keith joined the group 
 in company with Miss Susan Fairlie, and the 
 hilarity grew apace when Mr. Hey and Tom 
 Challoner had to match themselves against 
 Uncle Harry's power of invention and Mr. 
 Keith's dry humour. Mrs. Crawfurd was quite 
 scandalised as the laughter from this group, 
 mingled in her venerable ears with the hymn- 
 singing from another group round the piano. 
 This was the consequence of bringing worldlings 
 into the sacred circle — the elect themselves led 
 astray by vanity and frivolity. There was Miss 
 Susan Fairlie, laughing till the tears ran down 
 her old cheeks, and Mrs. McSlimon holding her 
 fat sides. Even the young divine was joining in 
 the talk with an almost godless vivacity, while 
 the elder pastor — a man of singularly discerning 
 spirit — was looking on, with her husband, both 
 of them evidently much amused. That her son 
 James should be joining in the laughter, was 
 not astonishing — he was led away by Tom 
 Challoner, and was a friend of Keith Dunbar. 
 But Hugh, the solemn — ah well! he was 
 devoting himself to Pauline; she must be
 
 82 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 a clever girl to make Hugh laugh so 
 much. 
 
 However, Mrs. Crawfurd bore down upon the 
 group and carried off Mr. Carmichael to present 
 him to his contemporaries. Then she penned 
 Mr. Keith in a corner to give the " piece of her 
 mind " she had cut off for him. 
 
 But Mrs. Crawfurd's manoeuvres were of no 
 avail. Carmichael was evidently the same 
 graceless Harry he had been in old times, and 
 scandalised his douce home-staying contem- 
 poraries with talk of a fine Western flavour, 
 considerably more racy than pious. Soon the 
 hymn-singing ceased, and all the guests became 
 one group of animated talkers and listeners. 
 Even tabooed subjects cropped up, and were 
 discussed with unwonted liberality. But as the 
 hour grew late the talk insensibly grew graver, 
 and when at ten o'clock the pastor dismissed the 
 flock with a benediction, the guests departed 
 with an unusual feeling of regret for the ending 
 of a pleasant evening. 
 
 The Keith-Challoner party, however, were to 
 stay to supper, and when they went downstairs 
 Mrs. Crawfurd managed to detain Mr. Keith 
 in the drawing-room.
 
 A DORCAS MEETING. 83 
 
 "Will you tell me, Archibald Keith," she 
 said, " how it comes that my boy is not good 
 enough for your daughter ? " 
 
 " I have other plans for Elsie," he replied, 
 " and I don't want my daughter bothered with 
 thoughts of marriage for a year or two yet. I 
 have considered the matter, and I have told 
 Hugh what I think about it. Believe me, 
 things are better left as they are." 
 
 " I suppose if Harry Carmichael hadn't a 
 son, my boy would have been good enough for 
 your girl. You are looking out for riches for 
 your daughter, after all. You are just like 
 other worldlings, Archie." 
 
 " Harry has no son," said Mr. Keith, " and my 
 plans were made before I knew of his coming home." 
 
 " Then I suppose," said Mrs. Crawfurd, " you 
 mean her for that frivolous Tom Challoner, or 
 that stuck-up Keith Dunbar? Mark my words, 
 Archibald, that Keith will bring you trouble 
 yet. I suppose you know that it was through 
 him that Violet Danby went away ? " 
 
 '' I know nothing of the sort, Mary," said Mr. 
 Keith. " You always had a dislike to the lad. 
 But this talk is useless — allow me." 
 
 And Mrs. Crawfurd found herself escorted 
 
 6—2
 
 84 MEASURE FOR MEASURE 
 
 downstairs without having brought " Archie 
 Keith " to any sense of the error of his ways. 
 Then at supper Keith's name came up again, 
 and Mr. Carmichael, who was sitting next to 
 Mrs. Crawfurd, happened to remark : — 
 
 " What a smart young fellow that Keith is, to 
 be sure ! " 
 
 " I only know," said Mrs. Crawfurd, speaking 
 low, but not so low but Pauline heard what she 
 said, " he showed himself very smart in turning 
 my governess's foolish head. It is all very well 
 for Elspeth to talk of Miss Danby being married. 
 I hope she is, I am sure. I only know Keith 
 took her away, and, if he has married her, it is 
 the least he can do." 
 
 Mr. Carmichael told Mr. Keith about this as 
 they walked home, and was, of course, put in 
 possession of the real facts of the case. But it did 
 not occur to Pauline to ask about Violet's husband, 
 and her companions — Tom and Elsie — making 
 merry over ; the tea-table incident, sufficiently 
 vindicated Keith from Mrs. Crawfurd's charges. 
 So Pauline for the time thought no more about 
 the matter, but the course of events would 
 have been very diiferent if she had indulged in a 
 little impertinent curiosity on this occasion.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PLANS. 
 
 "My Brethren," said the Fox, preaching to the eeese, 
 " the Lord knoweth, how I long for you all." 
 
 THE next morning Elsie and her father found 
 themselves together in the breakfast-room 
 before the others came do^vn. Mr. Keith had 
 assumed the "customary attitude " of the British 
 pere de famille, in spite of the absence of the fire. 
 Elsie came up to him as he stood on the hearth- 
 rug, put a hand on each of his shoulders, and 
 kissed him : 
 
 " Do you kno\v, my daddy," she said, " I have 
 a bone to pick with you ? '* 
 
 " Have you, Miss Consequence ? A wishing- 
 bone, I suppose? " 
 
 " Oh dear me, no. A much uglier bone than 
 that." 
 
 " Well, let us have it." 
 
 " Can you deny that a nice young man has 
 been wanting to marry me, and yet you haven't 
 told me a word about it? How do you know, sir,
 
 86 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 that I am not pining away for that nice young 
 man?" 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Keith; then, 
 after a pause, he went on : " What has Hugh 
 Crawfurd been saying to you, little woman ? " 
 
 " Oh, Hugh hadn't a word for me ; his atten- 
 tion was quite taken up with Pauline." 
 
 "Has Mrs. Crawfurd been talking to you, 
 then? " asked Mr. Keith. 
 
 "No. We had what Tom would call a ' shine ' 
 about Violet at tea time, and she wouldn't speak 
 to me after that." 
 
 "Then what do you know about it? You 
 don't care for him, dearie — do you? Surely you 
 cannot — " 
 
 " No, my dear daddy, I don't care for him at 
 all. It is only that I have a secret, and I don't 
 like keeping secrets from my daddy." 
 
 " Well, dear, what is your secret? " 
 
 " Only that I know about Violet's marriage." 
 
 " Well, what next ? " said Mr. Keith. " How 
 ever did you get to know that ?" 
 
 " Violet came to see me last week, and told 
 me all about it. You see she knew about this 
 proposal ; it is the best thing I know of Hugh 
 that he told her about it. It did not seem nice
 
 PLAXS. 87- 
 
 to be making a hollow proposal, and yet Hugh 
 could not get out of it, especially as it was his 
 mother who spoke to you about it. There was 
 no way of getting out of it except by declaring 
 the marriage, and that Hugh was not prepared 
 to do. So Violet thought the best thing was to 
 come and tell me all about it. She wasn't Sfoino: 
 to have me played with, she said." 
 
 " She is a good lass," said Mr. Keith, " and it 
 would have been a shame to have let the thing 
 go on I don't know that she could have done 
 better — unless, indeed, she had come to me." 
 
 " Well, you see, she wanted to tell me about 
 her marriage at anyrate." 
 
 " And it seems to me," continued Mr. Keith, 
 not noticing Elsie's last speech, " that if Hugh 
 Crawfurd had any spirit, he would have declared 
 his marriage sooner than allow himself to be put 
 in such a false position." 
 
 Here their talk was interrupted by the en- 
 trance of Pauline, who was followed almost 
 immediately by her father and Keith. They sat 
 down to breakfast and the conversation became 
 general. After a time it turned on the proceed- 
 ings of the night before : — 
 
 " What have you been doing to Mrs. Craw-
 
 88 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 furd, Keith?" asked his Uncle. '-She seems 
 more than ever set against you." 
 
 " Nothing, that I know of," Keith answered, 
 with a smile, " I don't think I need to do any- 
 thing.'^ 
 
 " She gives you a nice character, anyhow, 
 young man," said Mr. Carmichael. 
 
 "She does indeed," said Pauline. ''She was 
 trying to insinuate all sorts of dreadful things 
 about you last night." 
 
 " That is her way," said Keith, still smiling. 
 " Mrs. Crawfurd likes to have a black sheep 
 handy to measure her own virtue by. Miss 
 Danby has been a godsend to her in that line, 
 and I have always been Hugh's black sheep. It 
 amuses the old lady, you see, and it doesn't hurt 
 me." 
 
 Here Elsie began to laugh : — 
 
 " She wanted to say, Keith, that you had run 
 away with Miss Danby." 
 
 " Wanted to say ? " interposed Mr. Carmichael. 
 " She said it." 
 
 " She did indeed," said Pauline, " and she said 
 
 too " and then Pauline, for the first time 
 
 recognising the significance of Mrs. Craw^furd's 
 words, blushed and hesitated.
 
 PLANS. 81) 
 
 " I can fancy her delicate way of putting the 
 case," said Keith. " I expect I offended her when 
 she told me about sending the girl away. She 
 was good enough to say that she had done so on 
 my accolint. I am afraid I was hardly grateful. 
 I had only seen Miss Danby once or twice, 
 and had hardly done more than exchanged words 
 with her. Even supposing Mrs. Crawfurd's idea 
 of her was true, it still seemed to me that she had 
 been badly treated in her sudden dismissal ; and 
 I believe I expressed my opinion in tolerably 
 plain English. These theoretical ' miserable 
 sinners,' you see, can't bear the accusation of 
 practical wrongdoing. After all, it is little 
 wonder the old lady is down upon me ; but I do 
 think she might have chosen a more likely scape- 
 goat when she was about it." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said Mr. Keith. 
 '' All she needed was a story that would go down 
 with Little Zion. And, you know, the Little 
 Zion people expect you to go wrong some 
 time." 
 
 " Ah ! Christian charity, I suppose ! " said 
 Keith. " It is pleasant to know oneself so 
 important that one's downfall is required to 
 show the truth of a theological system. But
 
 90 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 I must go," he added, rising. " Your ladyships 
 will remember the arrangement for the after- 
 noon? " 
 
 "Do you know, my daddy," Elsie said, after 
 Keith had left the room, " I think Mrs. Crawfurd 
 meant more than mere gossip for Little Zion. 
 I fancy she got frightened at what she had done 
 to Violet, and that she had an idea that if she 
 could get Keith to feel himself entangled, or to 
 blame in any way, or responsible for her dis- 
 missal, that he would marry her." 
 
 " Hm ! very possible," said her father. " Keith 
 would be very sensitive on a point of honour, 
 and doubly sensitive where a woman was con- 
 cerned. Certainly, if Mrs. Crawfurd had wanted 
 to bring about such a marriage, she could not 
 have set about it better. Yes," Mr. Keith went 
 on, half- thinking aloud apparently, " and it fits 
 in well with her later manoeuvres." 
 
 " It seems to me," said Mr. Carmichael, " that 
 Elsie's theory has a good deal in it. Mrs. 
 Crawfurd probably wanted Miss Danby out of 
 the way, for fear Hugh should take a fancy to 
 her. She would count on her going home at 
 once. And when that expectation was falsified 
 she was likely enough to try this other game.
 
 PLANS. 91 
 
 Mary was always a woman of resource — Eh ! 
 Archie, I quite think she reckoned on hum- 
 bugging Keith." 
 
 " But Keith seems so very reserved," objected 
 Pauline. "One would think he wouldn't be 
 easily humbugged." 
 
 " It is astonishing," said Mr. Carmichael, 
 " how Quixotic these cool, hard-headed fellows 
 can be at times. They are just the men to 
 sacrifice their lives for a woman's fancy or a 
 point of honour. Keith is his mother's own son 
 too — there's a good deal in that." 
 
 " You should have seen Mrs. Crawfurd when 
 I told her Violet was married and had called on 
 me," said Elsie. " Did you see how she tossed 
 her head, Pauline ? " 
 
 " It was almost a wonder her cap didn't come 
 off," said Pauline, " but she looked, too, as if she 
 had got something she wanted in the informa- 
 tion." 
 
 *^ I can't help thinking," said Elsie, " that 
 somebody has been making stories to her about 
 Keith. I never knew her so bitter as she was 
 yesterday. She seemed so vindictive in what she 
 said. And it is not as though she were a false 
 woman."
 
 92 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "It is exceedingly likely," said Mr. Keith, 
 "that she has been deceived about Keith, and 
 that whoever deceived her counted on our not 
 hearing much gossip." 
 
 Breakfast was nearly over when letters were 
 brought in. 
 
 " Well, Harry," said Mr. Keith, after he had 
 looked over his correspondence, " have you got 
 those advices?" 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Carmichael. "There is no 
 hurry after all. I can knock about here for 
 three months at least — off and on, you know. 
 And then, Polly, we must see about your winter 
 in Paris among the studios." 
 
 " That's right, so we'll get away to Eose- 
 bank as soon as possible. When can you be 
 ready, Elsie?" said Mr. Keith, briskly. "I 
 suppose you will want all sorts of fal-lals before 
 you can start?" 
 
 " And you, miss," Mr. Carmichael said to his 
 daughter, " I suppose you will want some 
 fixings ? " 
 
 " You had better, both of you, see to your 
 shopping at once," said Mr. Keith, " and I will 
 write Duncan to tell his wife to expect us next 
 Thursday."
 
 PLANS 93 
 
 "But we were to go out with Keith this after- 
 noon," said Elsie. 
 
 " I'll let him know your whereabouts," said 
 her father. " You had better lunch at Forrester's 
 — say at 1.30, and he can meet you there. 1 
 will tell Tom to see about him." 
 
 The elders took their leave, and their lady- 
 ships formed themselves into a committee of 
 ways and means to consider the w^ardrobe ques- 
 tion. It was carried unanimously, " That a 
 dressmaker be consulted forthwith," and they 
 immediately proceeded to carry the resolution 
 into effect, by waiting upon Madame Finniquin, 
 of West Kegent Street, in order to receive the 
 instructions of that august High Priestess of 
 Fashion. 
 
 Madame Finniquin's establishment, as every- 
 one knows, is close to Blythswood Square ; so that 
 Pauline and Elsie were not surprised, on leaving 
 it, to find themselves walking down West Regent 
 Street, close behind Mrs. Crawfurd and her son 
 Hugh. 
 
 If the present chronicler were not already 
 somewhat exceeding his prescribed space in 
 telling this story, the next half-dozen pages 
 might be appropriately filled mth a rhapsody on
 
 91 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 this beautiful spectacle of the saintly mother and 
 her saintlier son in "high converse joined." 
 Really, when one comes to think of it, it is the 
 most orthodox situation the narrative has yet 
 produced, and it would form an admirable peg 
 whereon 
 
 " Reflection might hang a moral." 
 
 But the conditions of space are inexorable. 
 There is, however, a direction frequently appended 
 to medical prescriptions which exactly meets the 
 circumstances of the case : — 
 
 ♦' Aq. quant, suff ," 
 
 The reader is recommended to dilute to taste. 
 
 To proceed. Mrs. Crawfurd was addressing 
 the meeting, and, as she was one of those admir- 
 able persons who emphasise their integrity as it 
 were by habitually speaking in a loud and 
 challenging tone of voice, Pauline and Elsie, 
 walking behind, got the benefit of her remarks. 
 It is needless to remark that the latter, knowing 
 what she did, was peculiarly edified. 
 
 "What I cannot understand is why Keith 
 manages to keep this marriage secret so long. 
 Your father says the secrecy is enough to show 
 that Keith is not the man. But I don't know. 
 Keith is proud and he is poor, and it is hardly
 
 FZAXS. 95 
 
 likely that he ^Tould care to have it known that 
 he has made such a fool of himself. Where 
 does he hide the girl, I wonder ? " 
 
 "Keith is not the fellow," said Hugh, 
 diplomatically, '' to let out anything he chooses 
 to keep secret." This young gentleman, it may 
 be remarked, particularly prided himself upon 
 his invariable adherence to the literal truth. 
 " Ter-uth, my friends, is never a lie," said the 
 Rev. Chadband — but then the Eev. Chadband 
 was an ass. There is no such square, well- 
 ballasted lie, as a misplaced truth. In fact, a 
 lie might well be defined like dirt, as " truth in 
 the WTong place." 
 
 The girls stopped as soon as they found they 
 were overhearing this precious conversation. 
 They went round by the parallel St. Vincent 
 Street, only to meet mother and son full-face at 
 the corner of West Nile Street. 
 
 As they w^alked on together, Hugh tried to 
 monopolise Pauline, but she would not leave 
 Elsie ; and Elsie was talking to Mrs. Crawfurd, 
 and, to Hugh's horror, w^as talking about 
 Violet. He " could not choose but hear." 
 
 " But I don't think she should keep her 
 marriage secret," Mrs. Crawfurd w'as saying.
 
 96 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 '' I think you must take me to see her, and I 
 will talk to her about it." 
 
 " Certainly," said Elsie, with a mischievous 
 glance at Hugh, " though I hardly know how 
 to manage it. You see, we are going to Rose- 
 bank in a few days. But perhaps I may 
 be able to persuade her to come to Eosebank." 
 
 " With her husband I " asked Mrs. Crawfurd, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 *' I'm afraid not. Her husband has a preju- 
 dice against bringing her amongst her old 
 friends. I believe," Elsie went on very suavely, 
 " he is in business, and has to be away from her 
 a good deal ; so I may be able to get her to 
 come to Eosebank and meet you." 
 
 " No, thank you," said Mrs. Crawfurd, stiffly. 
 " I can quite understand her husband may not 
 wish her to meet me. What do you thint, 
 Hugh?" 
 
 But Hugh pretended to be taken up with 
 Pauline. 
 
 " Oh — ah ! just so," he said, abstractedly, as 
 though he had scarcely heard the question. 
 Then he shook hands with the girls. " Are 
 you coming to the office, mother?" he asked. 
 
 "No, but wait a minute, Hugh." Then, turn-
 
 PLANS. 97 
 
 ing to Pauline, Mrs. Crawfard went on : " Will 
 you tell your father that we shall expect you both 
 for a long visit at Inellan I " Then she explained 
 to Elsie : — " We are thinking of letting Glen- 
 iinlas this season." 
 
 " Thanks, very much, Mrs. Crawfurd," said 
 Pauline. " I believe we are already engaged, but 
 I will tell my father, and probably you may see 
 him yourself." 
 
 " Very well, then, we will see what he says. 
 Meantime, good morning." 
 
 " Good morning," said the girls as they went 
 off. 
 
 " Hugh," said Mrs. Crawfurd as soon as they 
 were alone, "go up at once to your father, 
 and tell him never to mind about the house at 
 Inellan, and not to let Glenfinlas ; we'll just go 
 to our own place this year, as usual." 
 
 " Why, mother," said Hugh, " this morning 
 nothing Avould suit you but going to Inellan. 
 Whatever will father say I " 
 
 " Your father will say he is very glad. See 
 about it at once, now, before it is too late." 
 
 " Now that is put in order ! " said Mrs. Craw- 
 furd to herself as she walked down Buchanan 
 Street. "I don't suppose we could have got 
 
 7
 
 98 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 them away from Keith's altogether, and at any- 
 rate we shall have them as neighbours all the 
 summer ; and, with Keith married and Tom 
 Challoner busy with Elsie, surely Hugh should 
 have a good chance with the girl. He will be a 
 fool if he lets the chance slip. She is a fine girl 
 too, and then there's her fortune into the bargain. 
 Harry is rich, it seems. That will be better than 
 marrying a governess."
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE SANGREAL. 
 
 " Here, where the world is quiet ; 
 Here, where all trouble seems 
 Spent winds and dead waves' riot 
 And doubtful dreams of dreams." 
 
 A. C. Sjvinburne. 
 
 ROSEBxiNK was a pretty, creeper-covered, 
 low, rambling house, standing in a sunny- 
 hollow on the western shore of Loch Dhuil. 
 All around, sheltering groves of larch and fir 
 deployed their ghostly companies along the hill- 
 side, rank above rank, in what seemed a cease- 
 less, silent march to outflank the encroaching sea. 
 The house looked southwards from under its 
 verandah, over a broad terrace and the slope of 
 its lawn, along the shelving sands of a little bay, 
 round which the seaward skirts of the forest 
 stretched to a low wooded promontory. Beyond 
 lay the waters of the loch, girt by a rugged 
 semicircle of mountains: — fir slopes rising to 
 heathery moorlands ; beetling precipices, down 
 
 which tiny streams wavered in smoke-like 
 
 7—2
 
 100 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 waterfalls. No other house was in sight, no 
 sign of human life to break the sacred silences 
 of nature. Silently the great clouds towered in 
 blue depths of sky ; silently the shadows flitted 
 over olive and purple moorlands; silently the 
 sun-lighted ripples lapped on the beach — only in 
 the forest a low susurrus of rustling leaves, and 
 twittering birds, and faltering streams. 
 
 " A sound as of a hidden brook 
 In the leafy month of June, 
 That to the sleeping woods all night 
 Singeth a quiet tune." 
 
 Life at Rosebank was one long idyll — an idyll 
 of peace and sunshine; of mist and storm and 
 rain. 
 
 The idyll began for Pauline when they left 
 the pier at Greenock, and she stood on the 
 bridge of the steamer, with Elsie and Keith, 
 looking over the gleaming waters of the beauti- 
 ful land-locked firth. Swiftly the good ship 
 clove the crisp-curling waves, opening the long 
 reaches of the lower firth as she crossed to the 
 wood-shores of Argyll. The fresh morning 
 breeze stirred the girl's hair, and brought the 
 colour into her cheeks. Keith would have 
 been puzzled to say whether his first acquaintance 
 of the lamplight, or this bright-faced girl with
 
 THE SANGREAL. 101 
 
 the wind-tossed hair, were the more beautiful. 
 Past beautiful Kilcreggan, and more beautiful 
 Cove, they sailed into a lovely loch, and left the 
 hrth behind. Past the wooded corries and fir- 
 crowned shoulders of Finnartmore, by beaches 
 of silver sand with soft river-meadows beyond : — 
 by fir-clothed hills : — by swelling moorlands : — 
 through the gloom of beetling precipices and 
 overhanging crags, the " Gareloch " worked her 
 way into the heart of the mountain land. More 
 and more the circling hills closed in till the ship 
 seemed almost end-on to a frowning cliff. A 
 sudden turn, and she steamed into the lower 
 reach of Loch Dhuil. On the right, a semi- 
 circular range of hills rose abruptly out of the 
 water : — on the left, one lovely bay after another 
 curved round to the north and east till the 
 further point seemed to meet the cliffs of the 
 eastern range. Rounding this point, they found 
 themselves in a great amphitheatre forming the 
 head of the loch. Silver sands were lost in grey- 
 green meadows, and, beyond, the dark woodlands 
 stretched to the purple moorlands; and the 
 moorlands rose to the scarped peaks, each stand- 
 ino: out clear-cut and distinct — a soft olive 
 darkness against the soft blue sky.
 
 102 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 ''Oh, how beautiful!" said Pauline. "And 
 are we to live here ? " 
 
 ''Yes," said Keith, " shall you like it, do you 
 think?" 
 
 "Yes, I shall like it," she said softly, "it will 
 be like living in fairyland." 
 
 " You will have no lack of subjects for 
 sketching, Pauline," said Elsie. 
 
 *' Sketching ! " said Pauline. "But who could 
 paint those shadows ? — and yet, I should like to 
 try. But, oh dear me ! I have neither canvas 
 nor colours, and there is no town here where we 
 can get them." 
 
 " Oh, we can send to Glasgow for them by 
 whoever is going up first," was Elsie's comforting 
 reply. " Can't we, Keith ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Keith. " I'll see about it. 
 But I must go and tell the captain that Duncan 
 is to meet us." He found the captain and told 
 him about stopping. Then he took out his 
 pocketbook and wrote a note. 
 
 " Look here, Mr. McDonald," he said to the 
 captain, " could you send a man up to McLure's 
 in Buchanan Street for these things % They are 
 for Miss Carmichael there. I know you like to 
 oblige a lady."
 
 THE SANGREAL. 103 
 
 " Vera weel, doctor," said the captain, " I'se 
 hae them here the niorn's mornin'." 
 
 " Thank you, captain," said Keith, " I will 
 send out a boat for them." 
 
 By this time the engines had been stopped, 
 and the " Gareloch " was slowly forging ahead 
 toward a small boat in which a man stood up 
 ready to catch the rope another man on board 
 the steamer was ready to fling. The rope duly 
 thrown and caught, the boat was hauled to the 
 platform of the paddle-box. Keith jumped in, 
 and the captain handed Elsie and then Pauline 
 over the side. The latter, not accustomed to 
 these small boats, nearly fell, in leaving the 
 steamer. Keith caught her, however ; so no 
 harm was done, but the thrill of pleasure he 
 felt as she fell into his arms was a new symptom 
 of the young man's heart-complaint. Then the 
 luggage was piled up in the bow, and the rope 
 cast off; the steamer's paddles began to turn, 
 and she churned her white way up the loch. 
 
 Keith and Elsie shook hands with Duncan, 
 and introduced him to Pauline, telling him he 
 was to consider that young lady as specially in 
 his charge. 
 
 "Now, Duncan," said Keith, when these
 
 104 MEASURE FOR MEASURE, 
 
 preliminaries were over, " you make yourself 
 agreeable to these youDg people, while I pull 
 ashore. I want a stretch." 
 
 " Vera weel, Doctor," Duncan responded, 
 and proceeded to carry out his instructions by 
 asking numerous questions about Mr. Keith 
 and answering another series anent his wife. 
 
 Duncan belonged to the Ancient Mariner type 
 of animated nature. He was almost picturesque 
 in his way, but the maritime promise of his 
 nether man was only indifferently carried out 
 in the starched collar and decorous coat he had 
 thought proper to assume out of respect to his 
 visitors. A hale and hearty old man was 
 Duncan, and his unassuming simplicity of 
 manner would have carried off a greater incon- 
 gruity than that between his collar and his sea- 
 boots. The collar belonged to Mr. McTavish, 
 elder in the Kirk ; the boots and jersey to Duncan 
 McTavish, fisherman and factotum-general at 
 Rosebank. He was the same man in both 
 offices. 
 
 On the beach they were welcomed by Duncan's 
 wife, Kirsty — a picturesque, grey-haired, bright- 
 eyed old woman, very dapper and neat, from her 
 sloe-black shoes to the crossed white kerchief on
 
 THE SANGBEAL. 105 
 
 her breast, and the crowning glory of her 
 " mutch." 
 
 '' Eh, ma bonnie doo ! " she said to Elsie, " but 
 it's you that's the sicht for sair e'en. An' 
 you're looking brawly. But wha's the bonny 
 leddy ? " she added in a whisper. " Is't 
 Mistress Keith ? Eh, but she's the winsome 
 lass." 
 
 " Well, haven't I to be spoken to?" said Keith 
 coming up to shake hands with the old woman. 
 " You'll be glad enough to speak to me the night 
 when Tom Challoner's here. That's a grand 
 mutch, Kirsty, and Tomll be w^anting to see 
 how he looks in it ; and who's going to hinder 
 him if I'm no in wi' ye ? " 
 
 " Eh, sirs me, Maister Keith, ye maunna let 
 him get ma mutch." 
 
 Kirsty took the girls off to the house, and 
 Keith got Duncan to take him out in the boat 
 for a swim. When he returned he found lunch 
 waiting in the dining-room. After lunch they 
 adjourned out of doors, or rather out of 
 windows. A raised platform ran along the 
 front of the house, under the broad verandah. 
 Through the open window Keith handed out on 
 to this platform the wherewithal for making a
 
 106 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 
 
 pleasant afternoon of it — three lounge-chairs, 
 one little round table, a bottle of claret, a box 
 of cigars, ditto of matches, and a plate of fruit. 
 Then he invited the ladies to come out and make 
 themselves comfortable, and straightway pro- 
 ceeded to set them a praiseworthy example of 
 how to do so. 
 
 Pauline was the first to come. She leant back 
 in her chair, with dreamy eyes fixed on the far- 
 off hills. She had hardly spoken since she had 
 got into this enchanted land, and now Keith, 
 seeing she wanted to be quiet, did not trouble 
 her with talk, but quietly smoked his cigar and 
 looked at her in a lazy meditation. She was 
 dressed in grey homespun, and the simple dress 
 showed her figure to perfection and set off her 
 delicate complexion. Her face, in the soft 
 shadow, was full of a dreamy quiet — a soft rest- 
 fulness that" seemed half-longing — a nameless 
 and tender beauty that Keith had never seen in 
 a woman's face before. It was the ecstasy of the 
 nature-worshipper — the reflection of the glory 
 without in the pure woman-soal within, a 
 gleam of " the light that never shone on sea or 
 land." And Keith saw it. It was as though he 
 had seen the sangreal pulsing in his cigar-smoke.
 
 THE SANGREAL. 107 
 
 He turned away — following the direction of her 
 eyes. Away in the south, soft olive-grey ridges 
 rose out of a sapphire sea, and melted into a sea- 
 blue sky. Soft, tender lights faded and flickered 
 over purple-grey moorlands, and softer shadows 
 followed ghostlike in their train or lay ambushed 
 in woods and glens and corries ; and one grey 
 cliff loomed gaunt and shadowy beyond a space 
 of shining sea. A favourite verse began beat- 
 ing itself out in Keith's brain, as such verses 
 will do at times, till presently he found himself 
 quoting it half aloud : — 
 
 " I am pale with sick desire, 
 
 And my heart is far away, 
 From this world's fitful fire, 
 
 And from this world's waning day : 
 In a dream it overleaps 
 
 A world of tedious ills 
 To where the sunshine sleeps 
 
 On the everlasting hills." 
 
 Pauline turned to him with her eyes still full of 
 dreams : 
 
 " Oh, I do like that ! " she said. " Will you say 
 it again ? " 
 
 So Keith repeated the verse again, and 
 Pauline sat turned towards him as he spoke, 
 till he almost seemed to see his vision again 
 amid the dreams in her beautiful eyes. 
 
 " To where the sunshine sleeps 
 On the everlasting hills."
 
 108 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Pauline repeated softly, as she leant back again, 
 "It is very beautiful ! " 
 
 Then they talked — as only thoughtful and 
 well-informed people can talk. Both had that 
 feeling for the problems of life and nature 
 which is the mark of the modern spirit : — specu- 
 lations, thoughts, fancies, came naturally into 
 such talk, more than half-serious, and yet ready 
 enough to pass into humour. By the time Elsie 
 joined them, each had found in the other that 
 sense of comradeship which is the most genuine 
 basis either of friendship or love. 
 
 So they sat and talked amid " the golden after- 
 noon," till the talk came to a pause with the end 
 of Keith's second cigar, and in the pause the 
 seriousness of course vanished. The young man 
 began on a new tack with another quotation : — 
 
 " The time is come, the Walrus said. 
 To talk of many things."' 
 
 " I might suggest, young ladies, that the after- 
 noon is well advanced, and you have not decided 
 what to do with it." 
 
 They settled to walk through the wood by the 
 shore, and when they came back it was time to 
 be thinking of the good folks who were to arrive 
 by the evening steamer. It was decided that,
 
 THE SANGREA L. 109 
 
 instead of sending out the " tub " for them, 
 Keith should drive the waggonette to the pier, 
 a couple of miles up the loch, and that Pauline 
 should go with him, while Elsie looked after her 
 household arrangements. 
 
 So the two drove through the woods ; over 
 the shoulder of the hill, looking down, as they 
 went, through long vistas of greenery, to the 
 shimmering sea ; and along the lochside in the 
 afternoon shadow. Keith fastened up his ponies, 
 and let Pauline on to the little pier to wait for 
 " the boat." They were still in shadow, as were 
 also the lower slopes of the opposite hills ; but, 
 further up, a great glen let the light fall full on 
 all the upper reach of the loch till it shone like 
 a mirror of steel. Presently a column of smoke 
 rose over the southern headland, and then the 
 steamer came into sight and forged up to the 
 pier. 
 
 They soon rattled back, and after dinner was 
 well over they decided to go out fishing, as a 
 fitting conclusion to the dissipations of the day. 
 They pulled out into the loch, beyond the point, 
 and had a merry time of it as they let down 
 their lines and caught their fish. It was not a 
 particularly scientific performance, and silence
 
 110 MEASURE FOR MEASURE, 
 
 was by no means considered essential to success. 
 When they set out, the night had not yet fallen ; 
 all the loch lay in a great shadowy stillness, but 
 beyond the glen, at its head, the great peaks 
 still flamed in the sunset light. But peak after 
 peak died out into darkness ; and one by one 
 the stars came out in the blue vault and shim- 
 mered in the glassy depths below. The young 
 folks' laughter died out as the silence deepened 
 round them ; even the fishing was stopped, and 
 they drifted over the silent sea. " Sing, Elsie 
 and Tom," said Mr. Keith, " sing the song of the 
 stars." And the girl's clear voice rose sweet and 
 calm into the still night. 
 
 " See how peaceful, star with star, 
 Thro' the heavens doth wander, 
 Jarring feud or noise of war 
 Never cometh yonder." 
 
 Then Tom's deep voice took up the next 
 verse : — 
 
 " Mark, how peaceful, wave o'er wave, 
 
 Flows the tranquil river 
 To its mighty ocean grave. 
 Gliding on for ever." 
 
 And then they sang together to the end : — 
 
 •' Life shall flow then, free from jars. 
 Like the tranquil river ; 
 Till we, soaring o'er the stars, 
 Dwell in peace for ever." 
 
 Then they were still. They seemed to float
 
 THE SANGREAL, 111 
 
 in the midst of a great silence, between the star- 
 sown vault above, and the star-filled depths 
 below. All around, the great mountains lifted 
 their shadowy bulk to the quiet heavens, and 
 the night seemed full of the mystery of their 
 patient waiting for the unresting stars. 
 
 By-and-by the young folks pulled silently 
 ashore, and went soberly up to the house. 
 Then came lights and a cosy supper, followed 
 by whist and bezique. Then everybody went 
 off to bed, and so ended the first day of Pauline's 
 Idyll.
 
 CHAPTER Vlll. 
 
 violet's soxg. 
 
 " What the years mean ; how time dies and is not slain ; 
 How love grows, and laughs, and cries, and wanes again — 
 These were things she came to know, and take their measure, 
 When the play was played out so for one man's pleasure." 
 
 A. C. Swmhurne. 
 
 WITH the morning Pauline found her- 
 self in a new world. Yesterday's 
 far-off hills, tremulously flickering in soft 
 lights and softer shadows, now towered up 
 strong and clear against the morning light, 
 casting mighty shadows halfway over the loch, 
 and filling the shadows with reflections in 
 its clear silent flowing waters. All was changed 
 but the silence and the stillness, and the sense 
 of isolation from the world. The still clear 
 morning air was charged with sleepy noises from 
 far-off waterfalls and brawling burns. Pauline, 
 as an artist, knew something of the wizardry of 
 light, but she had never seen anything so 
 wonderful as its effects in the ever- changing 
 beauty of this weird mountain-land. She still
 
 VIOLEl 'S SONG.. 113 
 
 went about like some ecstatic saint who had had 
 a vision of the heavenly city, the 
 
 ♦' Urbs beata, urbs tranquilla," 
 
 and it was long before the rapt visionary look 
 left her face. 
 
 " What has come over you, my dear ? " asked 
 Mr. Keith as they stood on the lawn, in the early 
 morning, just above the low sea-wall. " You 
 seem to have lost your voice." 
 
 Pauline drew a long breath : — " It is all so 
 beautiful," she said, " I have not got used to it 
 yet." 
 
 " It is beautiful," was the reply. " After all 
 these years, I think it is more beautiful every 
 time I see it." And the old man's thoughts 
 wandered sadly back to memories of the dear 
 wife whose presence had once gladdened the 
 beautiful scene, and whose grave still sanctified 
 its glory. " I think," he went on, half to him- 
 self, " I should like to die here when the time 
 comes, and be buried in the old kirkyard 
 yonder. Ay, lassie, you young folks think of 
 life ; but we, who are older, begin to get tired 
 with our long day's work, and to think of our 
 rest. Eh, Harry?" 
 
 " Well," said Carmichael, " that is not far
 
 114 MEASURE I OR MEASURE. 
 
 wrong, only, on our side of the water, a man don't 
 get much time to think ; he drops out of his 
 work into his grave, and does his thinking after- 
 wards. But see here, Archie ! — isn't Elspeth 
 buried up there \ and Helen % I should like to 
 see the place." 
 
 " We will drive up, Harry, some time to-day 
 or to-morrow, you and I. But, dear me," and 
 Mr. Keith turned to Pauline, " this is no talk 
 for young folks. Wouldn't you like to paint 
 this, my dear \ " 
 
 " I should indeed," said Pauline, " only I 
 have forgotten to provide myself with mate- 
 rials." (She turned to her father.) " Will you 
 get me some, papa, first time you go to 
 Glasgow % " 
 
 ''There's no need to wait," said Mr. Keith. 
 " We'll just send a bit note to McLure's and 
 have the things here to-morrow. Keith," he 
 called out, and Keith and Tom came up from 
 the boats they had been overhauling on the 
 beach. '' Keith, just send a note to McLure's 
 to-day for an outfit of painting-materials to be 
 sent down at once." 
 
 Keith smiled mischievously. " I sent that 
 note yesterday," he explained. " Captain
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 115 
 
 McDonald promised to send a man for them and 
 to bring them to-day. 
 
 " That was right, Keith," said his uncle, '' I 
 am glad you thought of it." 
 
 Pauline opened her eyes in astonishment, 
 looking first at one and then at the other. 
 
 '^ How good of you," she said to Keith. " But 
 I never dreamt of putting you to the trouble." 
 
 " Oh, there's no trouble at all," said Mr. 
 Keith. " You'll just take the things as a 
 present from Keith and Elsie and myself, and I 
 will give you a commission when you have 
 selected the views you would like to paint." 
 
 " You have heard of Scotch hospitality, 
 Polly," said Mr. Carmichael. " Now you are 
 beginning to know something about it." 
 
 Keith did not go unrewarded. Pauline was 
 touched by the frank kindness of his action, and 
 no less by his readiness to relieve her from any 
 embarrassment of acceptance by making the gift 
 appear his uncle's. 
 
 " I shall always remember your kindness," she 
 said to him as they turned to follow the others in 
 to breakfast. 
 
 "Do you get any letters in these parts?" Mr. 
 Carmichael asked as they sat down. 
 
 8—2
 
 116 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " We have ours sent down by the steamer 
 from the office," said Mr. Keith, "but for letters 
 addressed here, we have to send over to the 
 village." 
 
 " I almost expect a letter from Violet," said 
 Elsie, "so if anybody is going near the village to- 
 day they might ask for it." 
 
 ''We will see about it," said Keith. "Eh, Tom ? 
 We shall want to try the ' Waterwitch ' some time 
 to day, and that ^expedition will do as well as 
 another." 
 
 "Well, what is to be the programme to day?" 
 asked Mr. Keith. 
 
 " Elsie and I are going to be busy till lunch," 
 said Pauline. 
 
 " What do you say to a quiet morning's 
 fishing, Archie?" said Mr. Carmichael. "I feel 
 quite lazy. There must be something the matter 
 with this climate of yours." 
 
 " Oh, everybody is supposed to be lazy here," 
 was the answer. " You can give us a boat, Keith, 
 1 suppose? What are you and Tom going to do 
 with yourselves? " 
 
 "We have settled to rig the 'Waterwitch' first 
 thing, and we have plenty to do after that." 
 
 "You see, my daddy," said Elsie, "what good
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 117 
 
 young persons we all are. Yon and Uncle Harry 
 are the only idle people to-day." 
 
 " Perhaps we have earned our idleness, Miss 
 Mischief," said Uncle Harry. 
 
 " Well, what about Violet, Elsie ? " said Mr. 
 Keith. " Are you going to have her down? " 
 
 " Yes, 1 got her to promise to come, when I 
 saw her on Wednesday, and I fancy she will 
 come soon, in case the Crawfurds might be 
 coming down. She does not want to meet Mrs. 
 Crawfurd." 
 
 " But," said Pauline, " Mrs. Crawfurd invited 
 us to a place that you said was a long way from 
 here." 
 
 " Yes, she said they were going to Inellan," 
 said Elsie, " but she is likely enough to come 
 here for all that. She always is going to go 
 somewhere else, but she always comes here in 
 the end." 
 
 " The Crawfurds are coming here," said Tom. 
 " I saw Hugh yesterday, and he told me they 
 were coming very soon." 
 
 As they left the breakfast-table, Mr. Keith 
 took his nephew aside. 
 
 " I am inclined to think," he said, " that if 
 we could keep Violet here for some little time,
 
 118 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 we might perhaps be able to do something with 
 Hugh's father to get this affair put right. If 
 James Crawfurd once knew of this, he would 
 compel Hugh to acknowledge the marriage." 
 
 " But," said Keith, '' you would not tell him 
 without Hugh's consent, would you ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not. We have no right to do 
 that. But we might make it easier for Hugh 
 to tell him." 
 
 " I don't know whether we can do any good," 
 said Keith, "• but we might try. I cannot see 
 how Hugh is to come out of the affair blameless, 
 and he has a great horror of exposure. I fancy 
 he will keep the secret as long as he can." 
 
 " But surely he cannot expect to keep such a 
 secret for ever ? " 
 
 " I suspect Hugh has somehow or other hum- 
 bugged the marriage itself," said Keith, "- and 
 he won't care to face the consequences of 
 that." 
 
 " I know what you mean," said Mr. Keith, 
 " but that is a mere informality which we might 
 get Hugh to put right before he speaks to his 
 father on the subject." 
 
 " Yes, but Violet would have to know about 
 it. And for her to know that the marriage was
 
 VIOLETS SOXG. 119 
 
 open to the slightest suspicion would be a very- 
 serious matter indeed." 
 
 " I quite agree with you," said Mr. Keith. 
 '' But perhaps we may be able to think of some 
 way out of the difficulty. Meanwhile I will 
 leave you to suggest to Elsie the advisability of 
 keeping Violet here as long as she can." 
 
 The '' Waterwitch" was a handsome, fine- 
 lined, lugger-built boat, which had been laid up 
 for the winter in a shed at the back of the house. 
 Keith and Tom, with Duncan's assistance got her 
 do^\^l to the beach on rollers, and towed her out 
 to her moorings. The rigging of the pretty little 
 craft took up the morning till bathing-time. 
 Coming back after their swim, the young men 
 got talking about Violet's affairs a propos of 
 making arrangements to go for her letter. 
 
 " What do you think about this marriage, 
 Keith 1. " said Tom. 
 
 " Hm ! Can't say I believe in it altogether,'* 
 was Keith's answer. It may be all right, but 
 I'll be hanged if I think so." 
 
 "Madame Violet evidently thinks it is all 
 right." 
 
 *' Of course she does, she wouldn't be likely to 
 know otherwise. Why, a doubt of it would drive
 
 120 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 her mad. My uncle wants to get the matter put 
 right, but it won't be easily done. One thing is 
 certain — Mrs. Violet must know nothing about 
 
 it." 
 
 '' Not if she knows it is putting her right % " 
 asked Tom. 
 
 " No. She must never know there has been 
 anything wrong," said Keith. " I can't say I like 
 the lookout for her in any case. One would 
 think she must find the fellow out some time, 
 whatever happens, and that will break her heart. 
 I should say she will go mad, at the least. It does 
 all seem so cursedly wrong," he went on bitterly. 
 " Here is a good woman's life practically 
 wrecked because she has married the man she 
 loves. I believe the beggar meant well enough 
 at first, till he spoilt everything with his damned 
 cowardice. I believe he is more afraid of what 
 he considers the shame of being known to be 
 married, than he is of the row with his mother. 
 And that is saying something." 
 
 "It's a damned shime altogether," said. Tom. 
 ''What makes women so queer, I wonder ? 
 There was more than one good fellow would 
 have been glad to have married Violet Danby in 
 open day ; and yet she must choose the greatest
 
 VIOLET'S SONG, 121 
 
 humbug she could get. But, my word," he 
 broke off suddenly, " won't there be a saintly 
 row when the little game comes to light ! Won't 
 Mother Cra^vfurd be in a nice way ! " 
 
 " A ' saintly row,' as you call it, Tom, is just 
 what we must steer clear of, though I don't 
 exactly see how we are going to do so. The thing 
 can't be kept secret for ever." 
 
 "Hugh will do his best," said Tom. "He's 
 supposed now to be very much struck with 
 Pauline." 
 
 "No doubt," said Keith drily. "Come to 
 that, it is not so long since he proposed for 
 Elsie." 
 
 "For Elsie?" exclaimed Tom. "Why, Elsie 
 knows about his marriage ! " 
 
 " Yes. But Hugh wasn't to know that." 
 
 " He was an ass, then, to think that Violet 
 would be married and not let Elsie know about 
 it before long." 
 
 " He was a greater ass," said Keith, " not to 
 recognise his good luck in getting Violet at all." 
 
 " What do you think Mrs. Crawfurd would do 
 if she knew about this business? " 
 
 " Well, to do her justice," said Keith, " I 
 believe that, first of all, she would acknowledge
 
 122 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Violet as her daughter-in-law. She might, likely 
 enough, take it out of Hugh afterwards ; but she 
 would do that first." 
 
 " I suppose Hugh means to acknowledge Violet 
 some day? " 
 
 " Very likely," said Keith, " some day — but 
 not till it suits his convenience ; and, considering 
 the position of affairs, that won't be soon. Mean- 
 while he may take some new fancy." 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," said Tom. " It rather 
 strikes me, do you know, that Mrs. Crawfurd 
 means him to marry Pauline. That is why they 
 have come here, you may — Hallo ! here come 
 the fishermen ! Wonder what sort of luck they 
 have had." 
 
 Half-an-hour afterwards, Keith was far out 
 on the loch, waiting in the " tub " for the advent 
 of the steamer, and watching the " Waterwitch " 
 beating up to the pier with white sails gleaming 
 in the morning sunshine. 
 
 " Well, Captain," shouted Keith, as his boat 
 came up to the platform, " have you got any- 
 thing for me ? " 
 
 " Ay, Doctor." The Captain leant over the 
 platform and spoke in a stentorian whisper, 
 which he fondly imagined was nearly inaudible,
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 123 
 
 the more especially as he had an idea that 
 language '' unillumined by profanity '' consti- 
 tuted a sort of whisper in itself. " Ay, Doctor, 
 I hae gotten a grand young leddy for ye — ^just 
 as bonnie as the ane ye brocht yestreen. Man, 
 ye'U be getting marriet wi' a' they bonnie lassies 
 aboot. It's no' canny." 
 
 " Well, you see. Captain," said Keith, joining 
 in the laugh which the Captain's sally had pro- 
 voked, " I don't go in for such vanities. It's 
 all for Tom Challoner's sake, you know." 
 
 " Ay, man? " retorted the incredulous mariner. 
 *' But I'm thinking ye'll aye be takin' yer wale 
 o' them, for a' that. — But here's the leddy." 
 
 And Keith found himself talking to Violet, 
 while one of the sailors was arranging various 
 packages in the bow of his boat. Then he 
 handed her down the swaying ladder, and she 
 stepped easily and daintily on to the gunwale of 
 the boat and along to her place in the sternsheets. 
 -' You have been in a boat before ? " said 
 Keith, smiling. 
 
 " Oh yes," she said. " But what a pretty boat 
 it is ! " (And in truth the " tub" was a pretty boat 
 in spite of its name.) " And will you run up the 
 sail and let me steer ? "
 
 124 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 The " tub " was soon cutting her way through 
 the glancing ripples, and Keith was not so 
 engrossed with his management of the sail but 
 that he had leisure for observing Violet, who 
 looked very handsome in her dress of close-fitting 
 blue serge, while a soft grey wrap she wore 
 brought out the sweet peach-blossom tones of her 
 complexion. And her face was full of a tender 
 joyousness that to Keith, in the light of what he 
 knew, was inexpressibly touching. 
 
 "What a strangely-beautiful place, Mr. Keith," 
 she said as she looked round while Keith was 
 raising the sail. She spoke softly, even for her, 
 as though afraid to break the great silence that 
 seemed to fill ''the limit of the circling hills.'' 
 
 When they got fairly under way, she spoke 
 again : — 
 
 " By-the-by, Mr, Keith, did Elsie get my 
 letter r' 
 
 " No," he said, "she has just gone across to the 
 village to see about it, with Pauline and Uncle 
 Harry and Tom Challoner, to give her their 
 valuable assistance. Do you see that boat with 
 the two white sails, just beating in to the pier % " 
 
 "Yes, but surely: — why it's a lugger — we 
 have those sort of boats on our coast — I did not
 
 VIOLETS SOA'G. 125 
 
 know you had them here. Is that the ' Water- 
 Avitch ' there ] " 
 
 " Yes, that is the ' Waterwitch.' " 
 
 " She goes well," said Violet, shading her eyes 
 with her disengaged hand, the better to observe 
 the craft's performance. Then she came back to 
 the subject in hand : — 
 
 "But Elsie did not expect me to-day then? 
 Are you sure, Mr. Keith, I shall not be in the 
 way? Your uncle — " 
 
 "My uncle!" interposed Keith, "my uncle 
 has been scheming to keep you here ever so 
 long." 
 
 " That is very kind of him," said Violet, " but 
 I cannot stay very long, I am going home to my 
 mother for a time. In fact, Hugh thinks I am 
 off to Yorkshire to-day — I was not able to tell 
 him about coming here. He is coming to York- 
 shire for a few days before I come back ; and, as 
 he doesn't know exactly when he can come, I 
 must make sure of my visit while I can get it." 
 
 " That reminds me," said Keith, " I have not 
 seen you since you were married. I suppose I 
 ought to congratulate you ? " 
 
 " Certainly," she answered, with a pretty, shy 
 smile. " No girl ever had such fortune. Hugh
 
 126 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 has been so good to me. I cannot tell you how 
 good he has been." 
 
 Keith had his own opinion of Hugh's good- 
 ness. He felt almost a hypocrite himself in 
 tacitly assenting thereto ; and it would be hard 
 to say whether contempt for Hugh's folly, or 
 indignation against his callous heartlessness, had 
 the greater share in the curious emotion pro- 
 duced by Violet's simple words. Henceforward 
 Violet had no more devoted ally than Keith 
 Dunbar 
 
 Mr. Keith was waiting on the beach when 
 they came ashore, and he greeted Violet with a 
 cordiality that made her feel at home at once, 
 finishing up with a scolding for distrusting her 
 friends because Mrs.Crawfurd had used her badly. 
 
 " You should have come to us," he said, '' and 
 if we could have found you, my dear, you would 
 have had no choice." Then he turned to his 
 nephew : — 
 
 " And now, Keith, what about Pauline's 
 painting — can you spare her an end of your 
 laboratory, as you did Mr. Eoss ? It is the best 
 room about the place for a good light." A pro- 
 posal to which Keith was by no means reluctant 
 to give his consent.
 
 VIOLETS SONG, 127 
 
 The laboratory was at the back of the house, 
 a spacious room with a stone floor, originally 
 intended as a laundry. It was lighted princi- 
 pally from the roof, and its two windows looked 
 to the north, on a very restricted clearing in the 
 wood. Benches and shelves laden with Keith's 
 apparatus, with a writing-table in the middle of 
 the room, were sufficiently indicative of its pur- 
 pose. A door opposite one of the windows 
 opened on the lawn (the laboratory stood at 
 right-angles to the west side of the house), and 
 a door at the end opened into a passage com- 
 municating with the kitchen. To this room 
 Duncan and Keith brought up the packages just 
 arrived from the steamer : item, a large heavy 
 easel, for indoor work ; item, an outdoor folding- 
 easel with a seat ; item, a large case of oil-colour 
 tubes ; item, a pocket edition of the same ; item, 
 a case of water-colours ; item, a package of 
 whatman pads, sketchbooks, millboards and 
 canvases ; item, a case of brushes. Mr. Keith 
 himself superintended the disposal of these 
 materials. He placed the easel in the best 
 light. 
 
 " Now, Keith," he said, " a table here to put 
 the gear on — and a screen wouldn't come amiss,
 
 128 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 there's a draught — now a canvas on the easel 
 here — put the large case on the table — now, I 
 thmk, we should have a rug here ; send to 
 Kirsty for something — :have you a spare cup- 
 board to stack those canvases] in ? — now take 
 these portabilities and tell Kirsty to put them 
 in Miss Carmichael's room. Then, I think, we 
 are ready. You will have to mind what you are 
 doing, Keith. You mustn't have any explosions 
 or escaping gases while Pauline is working 
 here." 
 
 " Oh, that will be all right," said Keith. " I 
 shall work at night." 
 
 " Did you mean all those beautiful things 
 that I found in my room for me 1 " Pauline 
 asked Keith as they met in the dining-room at 
 lunch. 
 
 '' Certainly," said Keith, " they are some of 
 the things my uncle was speaking about this 
 morning." 
 
 Here Keith's attention was distracted. Tom 
 Challoner was addressing the meeting, although 
 his remarks were apparently offered to Elsie. 
 
 '' I shall not forget," said this nice young 
 gentleman, '-'- to give Mrs. Crawfurd an account 
 of this morning's proceedings. To think we all
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 129 
 
 should be sent off on a wildgoose-chase across the 
 loch, while the real Simon Pure, the irreproach- 
 able Keith forsooth, knows all about Violet's 
 coming, and meets her quietly while we are out 
 of the way. Why, the old lady will be ready 
 to hug me for very gratitude." 
 
 '' Hm," said Keith, blandly, '' I would rather 
 Mrs. Cra^vfurd exhibited her gratitude to you 
 than to me," thereby turning the laugh against 
 Tom, whose further retort was stopped by the 
 entrance of Violet. Mr. Keith turned the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Uncle Harry and I are thinking of driving 
 up to the head of the loch this afternoon. Do 
 you young people think you could take care of 
 yourselves ? " 
 
 " I will look after them, Mr. Keith," said 
 Violet. 
 
 " Aren^t you young people, then ? " Tom 
 asked. 
 
 " I ? I am an old married woman," said Violet, 
 with as much dignity as she could manage to 
 assume. 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Keith, " one would think 
 
 nobody had ever been married before." 
 
 " Nivir thoo' min', hinny, he's nobbut learkin'," 
 9
 
 130 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 said Tom, by way of consolation, addressing 
 Violet in what he supposed to be her native 
 tongue. 
 
 " Ay, lad," she replied, " happen t' barn knaws 
 nae better." 
 
 " When I was a youngster," said Keith, 
 meditatively, " I used to wonder what the con- 
 fusion of tongues was like." 
 
 ^' Well ? " said Violet, waiting for him to go 
 on. 
 
 " Oh, nothing — only your conversation with 
 Tom throws a light upon the subject," whereat 
 they had another laugh. 
 
 '' But the real question is, my daddy," said 
 Elsie, " who is to look after you and Uncle 
 Harry?" 
 
 " Perhaps," said Tom, " I had better take 
 charge of them ? " 
 
 " I wish you would," answered Elsie, " and," 
 but she gave him the rest of her instructions in 
 a whisper, " don't let them come back very soon. 
 I want a long talk with Violet." 
 
 Accordingly, after the elders had been driven 
 off by Tom, Keith made Violet and Elsie com- 
 fortable in the verandah, and then took Pauline 
 away to show her the painting-room. The cool
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 131 
 
 shady room was very pleasant, and Pauline 
 enjoyed herself greatly turning over the shining 
 tubes and fresh pads and canvases. 
 
 " Well, it is good of you," she said, as she stood 
 before the large easel and surveyed her property. 
 Will you not let me do something to show my 
 gratitude ? " 
 
 *' Will you paint me a little picture, then?" 
 said Keith. 
 
 " What would you like it to be ? " 
 
 " To be ? W^hat would you say to the view we 
 were looking at yesterday afternoon? " 
 
 " Ah me ! " she said, " I don't know if I can 
 manage that, but I will try. I owe you so much 
 at least." 
 
 " You owe me nothing. I will take the picture 
 only as your gift." 
 
 "Well, I must make a sketch for it," said 
 Pauline. " When shall we go ? They won't want 
 us on the verandah. They want to talk." 
 
 " Yes, they want a long talk, and perhaps a 
 good cry. Poor Violet ! " he went on, with a 
 sudden bitterness, " she has more reason to cry 
 than she knows of." 
 
 "Why should she have reason to cry?" 
 Pauline asked. But Keith shook his head: — 
 
 9—2
 
 132 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Ah! that I cannot tell you — it is not my 
 secret; and, besides, you might find the know- 
 ledge embarrassing/' 
 
 "Do you think I could not keep a secret 
 then? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, I am sure you could ; but, believe me^ 
 you are better without this one." 
 
 " Well, you know best ; but if she is in trouble 
 I should like to help her. I don't want to know 
 the secret unless I can be of some use." 
 
 " You can be of great use. Every kindness 
 you can show is of use, or will be some day. It 
 is all so sad to see her so beautiful and happy ^ 
 and to know that her happy life is overshadowed 
 by madness or death." 
 
 " Madness !— Death !— Why ? " 
 
 " Because she is a good woman, that is why.'* 
 
 "But are you sure? Is there no chance for 
 her?" 
 
 " I will not say there is no chance, but the 
 chance depends upon someone else. My uncle 
 thinks the danger may be avoided, but I fear he 
 is somewhat sanguine." 
 
 "Has the chance to do with her husband, 
 then?" asked Pauline. 
 
 " Yes, I am afraid it has."
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 133 
 
 " You know him, then? " 
 
 " Yes, I know him, after a fashion — I know 
 about him, at anyrate. Well," Keith went on, 
 *' you cannot say I have not trusted you. I am 
 only afraid I have pained you needlessly by 
 telling you my fears." 
 
 " No. I thank you for telling me," she said 
 gravely, but her sweet eyes were full of 
 tears. 
 
 '' Well, then," said Keith, " what will you take 
 with you to work with? I have thought of a 
 place in the wood where you will get the view 
 we want." 
 
 The view from the wood was even more beau- 
 tiful than the view from the verandah. There 
 were the shadowy hills and gleaming waters — 
 the same sapphire sky, with its white sailing 
 clouds ; but the picture was set in a frame of 
 softly-lighted grass and dark mossy pine-trunks 
 and deep-leaved boughs. 
 
 '' Oh," said Pauline, " this is more beautiful 
 than ever ! " 
 
 Keith spread a rug for her and then arranged 
 her easel. Then he lay down on the grass and 
 smoked. And as he smoked, he watched for the 
 passing of the Grail.
 
 134 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 All the pleasant afternoon they spent thus. 
 At last Pauline laid down her brush. 
 
 " There," she said, " if I do any more to day I 
 shall spoil it." 
 
 So they gathered up their traps and went off 
 to the house. As they came on the terrace they 
 heard Violet singing. It was a queer, wild, high- 
 pitched melody ; and the words they heard were 
 these : — 
 
 " Till I shall be sleeping 
 In the cold dark grave, 
 God my soul is keeping 
 Who is strong to save." 
 
 Pauline shivered. 
 
 " Poor Violet ! " she said to Keith. " It is like 
 a corroboration of your fears. But what a lovely 
 voice she has ! Does she sing much 1 " 
 
 " Elsie says she is always singing. But we 
 will get her to sing to you to night." 
 
 Tom Challoner came back by himself; the 
 elders had stayed to dinner with Sir Peter Fergus, 
 a city magnate, who owned the castle at the head 
 of the loch. So the young folks were left to 
 their own devices. 
 
 After dinner they all sat out on the verandah 
 to see the moon rise. As the night gathered, 
 their talk grew grave and at last lapsed into
 
 VIOLETS SONG. 135 
 
 silence. Before them stretched the glimmering 
 waters, and the darkening hills rose against the 
 faint radiance that showed the coming moon. 
 
 " Sing, Violet, dear," whispered Elsie, " sing 
 that song of David Raeburn's," and Violet 
 sang : — 
 
 "In the sad wintertime. 
 'Mid its wild storm and rime, 
 
 Night comes at noon." 
 
 A clear bird-like voice, carolling a dreamy pathetic 
 waltz-measure : — 
 
 •' In the sweet days of June, 
 'Mid all the summer noon, 
 
 Night comes at last. 
 Tho' few the darkling hours, 
 Tho' bright the gladsome flowers : — 
 
 Night comes at last. 
 Ah ! in the autumn days 
 Life walks in golden ways, 
 
 But night comes soon. 
 Fruits stored in garner fair, 
 Dead leaves in wintry air, 
 
 Show night so soon. 
 
 Yet, tho' the day be brief, 
 Less room for care or grief : — 
 
 Be the day gone. 
 Work for the hours of light, 
 Kest in the kindly night, 
 
 Till the day dawn 
 After the darksome night, 
 Cometh the morning light. 
 
 Day breaks at last : 
 Ne'er to be clouded o'er 
 Ever on that bright shore 
 
 Dark night is past." 
 
 Then there was silence again, and Keith found 
 that Pauline's eyes were full of tears, and her 
 hand was clasped in his.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 IN THE SUNSET. 
 
 " It is always conceivable that if we had been greater, circum- 
 stances would have been less strong against us." 
 
 George Miot. 
 
 ON that same Friday evening, just as it 
 began to fall dusk, Hugh Crawfurd stood 
 on the steps of his father's house in Blythswood 
 Square, apparently undecided as to his route. 
 
 " I think," he said to himself, as he drew on 
 his gloves, " I will just go and see if Violet has 
 gone. She will be nicely out of the way at 
 Scarsdale, and that will save a lot of bother for 
 the present. If she hasn't gone, I must get her 
 to go at once." 
 
 Hugh worked his gloves on and fastened 
 them very carefully, pulled down his cuffs and 
 felt at his tie, flicked a speck of dust off his 
 sleeve, and finally walked leisurely away. He 
 soon arrived at the little cross-street, and, 
 ascending the long stone '' stair," let himself 
 into Violet's house with his latchkey. He went
 
 IN THE SUNSET. 137 
 
 into the little kitchen. No one was there. 
 " Violet," he called, but there was no answer. 
 He looked into the sitting-room — it was empty ; 
 then into the bedroom — that was empty too. 
 He went back to the kitchen — there was no fire 
 in the grate, but everything was so fresh and 
 bright that it was evident the house had not 
 been long left to itself. 
 
 " She must have gone," Hugh said to himself. 
 *' It is just as well. She will be better out of 
 the way before this Loch Dhuil business comes 
 on. She would have expected me to come here 
 ever so much more than might be convenient, 
 especially since my mother has taken up the 
 notion of marrying me to Pauline. Pauline — ■ 
 Pauline ! " he called out bitterly. " Good God ! 
 what a fool I have been — what a frightful fool ! 
 And yet — and yet, what is to hinder the marriage 
 if I choose % None of them can prove this other 
 marriage. Put it right, Mr. Keith \ All very 
 fine, and let that supercilious nephew of yours 
 walk ofi" with Pauline and her fortune % Very 
 likely ! I ow^e you a score, Mr. Keith Dunbar. 
 If I had not been afraid of you, I need not have 
 been in such a hurry to marry Violet. Marry ! 
 — did I say ' marry ' % Well, we'll say ' marry.'
 
 138 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Perhaps, at anyrate, I may be able to spoil your 
 game a second time." 
 
 Hugh walked impatiently up and down the 
 kitchen ; then he crossed the passage into the 
 sitting-room, and stood at the window, looking 
 out at the sunset. A great wilderness of roofs 
 stretched away to the west and lost itself in a 
 violet-grey mist. Above the mist, the edge of 
 the low-burning sun's disc peered into the 
 luminous amber of a cloudless sky, which 
 deepened overhead into a clear grey-green 
 where the stars began to come. Against the 
 sunset the spires of the churches stood up in 
 violet darkness, and one great clock-tower 
 dominated all the picture. 
 
 Hugh looked at the sunset, without noticing 
 much about it at the time. He was thinking of 
 his difficulties; and his difficulties, like the 
 difficulties of a good many people, were very 
 much of his own making — at least, they were 
 traceable to himself — though whether a man 
 can be held responsible for himself, is a question 
 the present writer leaves for the consideration 
 of some gifted reader with a taste for arguing in 
 a circle. Hugh, then, was beginning to feel his 
 position irksome. Whether this would have
 
 ^^^<^U' 
 
 IN THE SUNSET. 139 
 
 happened if he had never seen Pauline is another 
 question we need not discuss. In love matters, 
 no one but a fool professes to be guided by the 
 reinen Vernunft. That one ought to love a given 
 woman is seldom a reason for doing so ; while on 
 the other hand prohibition seems often enough 
 the very ircison d'etre of a lifelong attachment. 
 Where Hugh was found wanting was that, loving 
 Violet well enough to marry her, he was yet so 
 wrapped up in himself and had so little thought 
 for her as to put her in the false position of a 
 hidden wife. It w^as in consequence of this that, 
 in spite of her tender and thoughtful love, he 
 was so easily led away from her by the next 
 pretty face he saw. If he had lived with her 
 altogether, the fact of the marriage being known 
 would have rendered him unlikely to think of 
 other women as a single man does — that is, as 
 possible wives, and Violet's beautiful womanhood 
 could not but have influenced his impressionable 
 nature for good. Here Little Zion had had an 
 evil influence on him, with its low standard of 
 human nature and its prurient treatment of love. 
 So that his love for Violet, which if he had given 
 it fair play w^ould have elevated and ennobled 
 him, only tended to debase him. A course of
 
 140 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 open profligacy would hardly have been worse for 
 this young man than his secret marriage. There 
 might have been some chance of his arriving at 
 the prodigal's repentance, if he had followed the 
 prodigal's course. But as it was, according to his 
 way of thinking, there was nothing to repent of, 
 and everything to be ashamed of. It did not 
 occur to him to stand on his rights as a man to 
 do the thing he chose, and to set Little Zion and 
 its opinions at defiance. On the other hand, he 
 had not the moral strength to keep the law in 
 which he had been brought up. On this matter 
 of love, too, he had the mawkish sensitiveness 
 which does duty in Little Zion for purity. This, 
 more than any dread of his parents, caused the 
 secrecy of his relations with Violet, and this 
 hindered the good she might have done him. It 
 is needless to say that Hugh had no apprecia- 
 tion of his wife's character. Womanliness, pure 
 and simple, was just what, with his training, he 
 could not understand ; and self-sacrifice for the 
 woman he loved he understood still less. Living 
 this double life — married to Violet, yet appearing 
 to the world as a single young man in his father's 
 house — the deception necessarily reacted on his 
 nature, and that was with the more efiect because
 
 IN THE SUNSET. Ul 
 
 he had drifted into it from cowardice and had not 
 adopted it of deliberate purpose for the sake of 
 the woman he loved. So that it is little wonder 
 that, as Hugh stood there looking out into the 
 sunset and thinking of his difficulties, those diffi- 
 culties should look heavy enough. 
 
 With a waning love, it was not surprising that 
 the little sacrifices of money or convenience 
 Hugh had to make for Violet's sake should have 
 become irksome. And if they were irksome in 
 the present, what about the future? He thought 
 of Violet with a child ; but the thought to his 
 prurient sensitiveness was horrible. Just as he 
 was wanting in true manhood, so he was wanting 
 in fatherhood. To be known to have been 
 married in this way was bad enough, but with a 
 child in the case the matter would be much 
 worse. Hugh's avowal of his marriage at first 
 would have been an easy task to what it was now • 
 and as he thought of it all, he grew very bitter; 
 and his bitterness was caused less by any fancy he 
 had for Pauline, than by the pressure of his own 
 difficulties. 
 
 Poor Hugh ! To think what he was putting 
 away from him : — manhood, husbandhood, 
 fatherhood, the love of a true noble woman ^
 
 142 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 the happiness of the home life she could have 
 given him: — and for what? For the greater 
 luxury of his father's house : — for the " freedom," 
 forsooth, of his bachelor-life : — for the sake of 
 his reputation in Little Zion — though Little Zion 
 would have bade him cherish his wife. One 
 reason why Hugh was ready to love Pauline 
 rather than his wife was that Violet had a claim 
 upon him ; and a claim which to a loyal soul is 
 a bond of peace, is to a lesser nature an irksome 
 restraint. Hugh thought of himself — not of 
 Violet. That was reason enough for the bitter- 
 ness of his thoughts. 
 
 "• And yet — what can I do ? " he said to him- 
 self, as he took to pacing backwards and forwards 
 again. " Put it as I like, the knowledge of this 
 would be a barrier to anything else. Even if 
 Pauline does not know, her father does. With 
 Violet always at Scarsdale, still I am not free : 
 J could only be free if she were " 
 
 He stopped suddenly and covered his face with 
 his hands : — 
 
 " Good God ! " he muttered, in a low tone of 
 horror, " am I a villain % " 
 
 Then he looked out at the sunset again, and 
 the words of one of Violet's songs came into his
 
 IN THE SUNSET. 143 
 
 mind, and he seemed to hear their dreamy 
 wailing. 
 
 " Night comes so soon. — Night comes so 
 soon." 
 
 Then the tune changed to a high clear melody 
 and other words came into possession : — 
 
 " Till I shall be sleeping 
 
 In the cold dark grave " 
 
 He could bear it no longer ! he turned and fled 
 from the house, but he could not escape the 
 words. The echoes of his feet, as he descended 
 the long stair, chimed in with them. He took a 
 cab, and the rumble of its wheels sang them 
 again. He got out to walk, and every passing 
 footstep rhymed to them in the quiet night. 
 Finding himself down town, he made his way to 
 the theatre and went in. He had never been in 
 a theatre before, but he got himself to a seat. 
 There was a great silence, broken only by soft 
 preluding from the orchestra — on the stage he 
 could just make out a prostrate form with 
 another dark form by it, and a high clear voice 
 like an echo of his wife's song rose into 
 
 the silence 
 
 This was enough for Hu^h. He went out ao:ain 
 
 Ah ! I have sighed to rest me 
 Deep in the quiet grave. "
 
 144 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and, taking refuge in a neighbouring restaurant, 
 ordered supper. But he could not stay 
 there all night, so he went home in a cab, and 
 this time was free from the haunting voice. 
 But not for long. He woke in the night with 
 the words ringing in his ears. He had a horrible 
 dream : — he stood beside a coffin, and the corpse 
 inside gibbered them softly to itself — then it 
 sprang up and shrieked them into his ears. At 
 last he got to sleep again, and the morning light 
 brought surcease to the evil visions. In due 
 time Hugh appeared at the breakfast-table, calm 
 and collected as usual, and received his mother's 
 final instructions with regard to the " summer 
 campaign." 
 
 Hugh was to escort his mother to the station, 
 on her departure for Loch Dhuil, and, his father 
 having gone to the office, he was left to receive 
 the instructions aforesaid. 
 
 " And now, Hugh," said Mrs. Crawfurd, in a 
 sort of last-will-and-testament fashion, when 
 breakfast was quite over and she had nothing to 
 do but put on her bonnet before she went. 
 " And now, Hugh, I want to speak to you 
 seriously. I shall expect you to pay pro23er at- 
 tention to Pauline Carmichael. Just get Violet
 
 IN THE SUNSET. 145 
 
 Danby out of your head once for all, and don't 
 
 let this girl slip through your fingers as you did 
 
 Elsie Keith : — I never thought you would have 
 
 shilly-shallied as you did about her. You need 
 
 not go down to Rosebank to-night : — that would 
 
 look too special. But well see them at church 
 
 to-morrow, and I will arrange something for 
 
 Monday. I have got your father to allow you 
 
 to stay down a few days, and, while we are at 
 
 Glenfinlas, you must come down as much as you 
 
 can : — you must give up your knocking about 
 
 town for this year. There are not many young 
 
 men get such a chance. You could not get a 
 
 prettier girl, which is what you young men are 
 
 led away with ; and then her fortune is a good 
 
 one. You could live in the West End somewhere 
 
 if you married her, between your money and 
 
 hers; and you would start in life with a much 
 
 better chance than you father and I had. I 
 
 must say," she continued, " I should not think 
 
 much of your chance if Keith was not already 
 
 married. I have no doubt he sees by this time 
 
 what a fool he has been. I think, too, I will see 
 
 what I can do with his uncle towards having his 
 
 marriage recognised. It really cannot be good 
 
 for husband and wife to be living apart like that. 
 
 10
 
 146 MEASURE FOR 3IEAS0RE. 
 
 If Elspeth or Keith will give me her address, I 
 think I will have Violet down for a few days. It 
 will be a good way of softening Archibald Keith, 
 and nothing conld be better, as regards Pauline, 
 than to let her see Keith and Violet together." 
 
 Naturally Hugh objected to this arrangement, 
 but he knew it was useless to oppose his mother, 
 as opposition but made that lady more deter- 
 mined. Besides, he thought, Violet was safe in 
 Yorkshire. 
 
 " Very well, mother," he said, " you must do 
 as you please, but I doubt if you will get Keith 
 to go your road, or anybody's road but his own. 
 He will be pretty sure to keep Violet out of the 
 way." 
 
 Hugh was very busy all day, but four o'clock 
 found him seated in the Greenock train. He 
 read his evening paper, and then sat leaning back 
 against the cushions, thinking of Pauline, when 
 all at once he found that the jolting of the train 
 was running into the words and tune he had 
 fled from the night before : — 
 
 " Till I shall be sleeping 
 
 In the cold dark grave." 
 
 He sat up and looked out of the window, tried 
 to read his paper again, but it was of no use.
 
 ZiV THE STJNSE'l. 147 
 
 The tune had taken possession of him again and 
 sang itself in his head, over and over and over 
 again. At Greenock he left the train and went 
 aboard the steamer, and the tune adapted itself 
 to the throbbing of the paddles as he stood on 
 the bridge. He went to the stern only to catch 
 it again in the wash of the waves. He tried 
 talking, but with every pause in the conversa- 
 tion it came back. When he left the steamer 
 it went with him as he walked up the pier. In 
 the evening he went out and sat on a rock by 
 the shore, and it seemed to him that the wind 
 among the trees and the waves lapping on the 
 shore had but one voice — the voice of this 
 haunting refrain. 
 
 10—:
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UNDER THE NIGHT. 
 
 I could not love thee, dear, so much, 
 Loved I not honour more." 
 
 Lovelaee. 
 
 IT was late on Saturday night and Keith was 
 busy in his laboratory. He had been 
 making preparations — with Tom's assistance, of 
 course — for getting to work during the next 
 week. He could have been done sooner, but 
 Pauline had been painting in the room the 
 greater part of the day, and he had not wished 
 to disturb her. The work was done now, how- 
 ever. Tom was standing by Pauline's easel wait- 
 ing for Keith, who was seated at his writing- 
 table, thoughtfully turning over his manuscripts. 
 At last Keith rose and went to a cabinet at one 
 side of the room, and came back with a small 
 blue glass bottle in his hand. 
 
 '' I shall be done directly, old fellow," he said 
 as he resumed his seat ; while Tom, noticing the 
 bottle, was seized with a brilliant idea.
 
 UNDER THE NIGHT. 149 
 
 " I say Keith, have you another bottle like 
 that anywhere about? " 
 
 " Yes, I daresay — look in the end drawer. 
 What's up now ? " 
 
 " Only a little game, old man." 
 
 " All right," and Keith relapsed into his manu- 
 scripts. 
 
 Tom got his bottle, and took himself off to the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Mary," said he, to one of the maids, " just 
 go and get me some scent from one of the young 
 ladies' rooms. You needn't wait to find out the 
 nicest, though I daresay you know all about 
 them," he added, laughing. Mary brought him 
 a flask, from which he filled his bottle. 
 
 " You needn't say anything about it, you 
 know, Mary," was his parting injunction. 
 
 " Vera weel, sir," said Mary, laughing. She 
 was quite accustomed to keep Tom's secrets. 
 
 Tom's next performance was to invent a formula 
 for his compound — a travesty of the one Keith 
 had just written for his bottle. Certainly his 
 invention did him credit, though a chemist who 
 seriously attempted to understand it would 
 probably have been reduced to imbecility in the 
 efibrt. It is not usual to express atomic weights
 
 150 MEASURE FOR MEASTTRE. 
 
 by means of the trigonometrical ratios wherewith 
 Tom indicated the exceedingly complicated nature 
 of his composition. Then he got a big " poison" 
 label, and affixed it duly. 
 
 By this time Keith had put his work away and 
 was watching Tom's proceedings with a good deal 
 of amusement. 
 
 "What do you think of my discovery?" said 
 Tom, handing him the bottle. " It strikes me as 
 an improvement on yours : — not so dangerous, for 
 one thing : — and then the formula is quite out of 
 the common." 
 
 " Certainly, the formula is very much out of 
 the common," and Keith smiled at its perverted 
 ingenuity. 
 
 •' You can smell it," said Tom, " and it would 
 hardly be healthy to do that with yours." 
 
 " It doesn't smell badly," said Keith. Then he 
 went to the cabinet again and poured a few drops 
 of a clear essence into the bottle. " Try that," he 
 said, giving it back to Tom. " But what is the 
 little game — if it is a fair question ? " 
 
 " That's very fine," said Tom, putting down the 
 bottle, "and the little game? You remember 
 Uncle Harry's joke about the medicated coral?' 
 
 "Yes."
 
 TINDER THE NIGHT. 151 
 
 " Well, I am going to hoax Uncle Harry and 
 the rest of them with this. They won't know 
 but what it is that compound you are working 
 with, you see." 
 
 '' That is it, is it? Well, I daresay you may 
 get a rise out of them with it. But you must 
 keep your bottle out of the way of mine, for 
 fear of accidents." 
 
 " All right," said Tom, " you keep yours on 
 the table there, in sight, and I will manage to 
 draw attention to it one of these days. And I 
 will put mine over here, out of the way." 
 
 " Very well, only be careful — accidents 
 happen so easily." 
 
 ♦' Alas ! how easily things go wrong : — 
 A drop too much, or a sniff too long — 
 And there follows a mist and a weeping rain 
 And a life is never the same again." 
 
 Sang Tom, improvising a tune for the occasion. 
 " Heighho ! let us go outside and have a smoke." 
 
 '' I suppose the Crawfurds will be turning up 
 next week," said Tom after a while. He had his 
 reasons. " Do you think Dame Violet will want 
 to run away?" 
 
 '' I fancy she will, unless my uncle manages to 
 persuade her to stay." 
 
 " I suppose he thinks that, if she stays here,
 
 152 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 with Hugh knocking about, something must 
 turn up to bring about an explanation ? " 
 
 " No/' said Keith, " I think he imagines he 
 can persuade Hugh to do what is right, with the 
 help of Violet's influence, and old Crawfurd's 
 liking for her. My uncle has a good deal of 
 influence with Mrs. Crawfurd too, and so has 
 Uncle Harry : — he counts somewhat on that. In 
 fact, if the old woman could once be made to 
 see that the game was up as regards Pauline, I 
 don't think there would be any more trouble with 
 her." 
 
 And so Keith walked into Tom's snare. They 
 had got down to the beach by this time. The 
 moon had not yet risen, and the night was dark 
 and still. Vaguely the shadowy hills loomed 
 over the shadowy waters under the clear stars. 
 Tiny ripples flashed in fitful phosphorescent light 
 as they broke on the beach. The young men 
 could not see each others' faces, and the dark- 
 ness encouraged Tom to say what he could not 
 have ventured to hint at in the light. 
 
 '' Keith, old man," he said — knocking the ash 
 ofl" the end of his cigar and speaking with an 
 amount of hesitation very unusual for him — 
 " why shouldn't you solve the difiiculty then ? "
 
 UNDER THE NIGHT. 153 
 
 "As how? "said Keith, stolidly looking 
 straight before him. 
 
 "Why shouldn't you marry Pauline? She 
 loves you, and you love her. And Uncle Harry 
 has taken a fancy to you as well." 
 
 Keith's cigar wanted attention now. He 
 flicked off the ash very carefully ; then replaced 
 it between his lips ; then, after a few puffs, took 
 it out again : — 
 
 " Don't tempt me, old lad. God knows I 
 love her — but what have I to do with marriage ? 
 And then she is rich — if it were not for that 
 wretched money, though — " 
 
 " She is no richer than you will be if this 
 thing of yours turns out properly." 
 
 " Yes, if — and ten years after this, at that. 
 Besides, I cannot tie myself to go in for money- 
 making. I cannot sell myself even for Pauline. 
 Pauline, Pauline," he added softly, " God bless 
 you ! And then, besides," he continued after 
 a pause, " she is our guest, and I have no right 
 to abuse my privileges. And she has had no 
 chance of seeing other fellows yet. I could 
 never forgive myself if I fancied I had taken a 
 mean advantage of her." 
 
 " You may take my word for it," said Tom,
 
 154 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " she doesn't want to see any more young 
 fellows. There is only one young fellow for her, 
 and his name is Keith Dunbar. Your sending for 
 those painting things fetched her. I saw it in her 
 eyes. But, for matter of that, she Vas pretty 
 well fetched before we left town. You're a nice 
 young man," Tom went on remorselessly, " win- 
 ning the affections of innocent maidens and then 
 blighting them for a whim." 
 
 " Don't, dear lad," said Keith, in a pained 
 voice, as he turned to Tom and laid his hand on 
 his shoulder. " To tell you the truth, I fancy 
 Pauline thinks I am married to Violet after all, 
 or in love with her at least; and I can't tell 
 her about it, and I cannot but be kind to poor 
 Violet either. Hugh's secret affects others 
 almost as much as himself. If she once knew 
 it, things might perhaps be different. But I 
 can't tell her of it, and I can't let you tell her. 
 I put you upon honour, mind." 
 
 " Well, I only know this," said Tom, " that, if 
 you could bring yourself to ask her, she would 
 say ' yes,' and everybody would be pleased. Uncle 
 Harry especially. Though I must say I don't 
 think Pauline has thought about it herself." 
 
 " That is a very good reason for leaving her
 
 UNDER THE NIGHT. 155 
 
 alone, Tom. Dear love, she shall have her girl- 
 hood while she can, for me." 
 
 And Tom, having said what he wanted, allowed 
 the conversation to drop, and by-and-by, when 
 the moon rose, they went off for a walk round 
 the bay. When they got back to the house 
 everybody had gone to bed. As they separated 
 in the passage, instead of simply singing out a 
 careless " good-night," they shook hands : — 
 . " Honour bright, old man ! " said Keith, warn- 
 ingley. 
 
 " Honour bright ! " said Tom.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 
 
 " If good, why do I yield to that suggestion, 
 Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, 
 And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, 
 Against the use of nature ? " 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 "TTERY peacefully and beautifully the Sabbath 
 V morning rose over Loch Dhuil. Peace- 
 fully the still waters slept in the sunshine, or 
 mirrored the mighty mountains in the shade. 
 Softly the white clouds hung in the blue heaven. 
 Softly their shadows lay on the hillsides, or 
 flecked the grass beneath the trees. No breath 
 of air stirred leaf or blade, no faintest ripple 
 broke the liquid mirror of the lake. No bird 
 sang in the drowsy stillness. Only from over 
 sea came the drowsy susurrus of waterfalls that 
 " clung like a dripping smoke " to far-off* cliffs. 
 All breathed of peace — the peace of " green 
 pastures " and " still waters" — the rest and 
 strength of " the everlasting hills." 
 
 The two uncles w^ere walking on the terrace,
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 157 
 
 leisurely pacing it from end to end in the tran- 
 quillity of spirit begotten of the matutinal cigar. 
 
 " Truly, Archie," said Carmichael as he looked 
 round at the low pretty house with its terraced 
 lawns stretching back to the woods and down 
 to the beach — " truly, to use the old words, the 
 ' lines have fallen to you in pleasant places. 
 
 " Yes, Hariy," said the other, " my life has 
 been full. I have had little to complain of. I 
 have often thought it strange that, with the loss 
 of my greatest blessing, my life seems to have 
 grown even fuller than before." 
 
 " ^yell, I think I can understand that : — just 
 as blind folk develop such a fine sense of touch, 
 but — but, I suppose they would rather see ? " 
 
 " Yes, they would rather see," said Mr. Keith 
 gently. 
 
 " These youngsters of yours must be a great 
 comfort to you, too." — They were standing at 
 the end of the terrace, and while Mr. Carmichael 
 was speaking the young folks came up from the 
 beach in a body, all laughing and talking toge- 
 ther. They crossed the terrace and went up the 
 lawn by the side of the house to the laboratory. 
 — " Elsie is a good lass, and your nephew Keith 
 is as fine a young fellow as I have met."
 
 158 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " My bonnie lass, she is good," said Mr. Keith, 
 fondly. " But look here, Harry. Talking of 
 Keith, do you see these two ? " Keith and Pauline 
 were standing at the laboratory-door. She had 
 laid her hand on his arm, and was looking up 
 into his face, talking very earnestly. 
 
 "Well?" said Mr. Carmichael. 
 
 " ' Well? Don't you see what that is coming 
 to ? Take my word for it, those two are being 
 drawn to one another. Shall I tell Keith he 
 had better get off to Vienna at once ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I see." Mr. Carmichael spoke with 
 great apparent gravity. " I have seen it for 
 some time, but it never occurred to me that you 
 would have any objections to my daughter"? " 
 
 " Objections ! Man Harry, I love her as my 
 own." 
 
 " Well, then, we'll just leave them to their 
 own devices. My lassie could not be in better 
 hands — Keith is a good fellow, and I believe he 
 would value her and make her happy ; he has 
 brains, too, and energy, and, to my mind, they 
 count for more than wealth. I am not altogether 
 a believer in the theory of wealth marrying 
 wealth : it savours somewhat of the marriage of 
 near kin."
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 159 
 
 In the laboratory Tom was giving Violet a 
 lecture a j^tojjos of Pauline's picture, which as 
 representing only one clay's work was sufficiently 
 chaotic to give colour to his absurdity. 
 
 " This, madam," said he, carefully turning the 
 canvas upside down, " is a view in the moun- 
 tains of the moon. You will obsers-e that the 
 landscape is destitute of the charms of water, 
 that element having been abolished by an act of 
 parliament which came into operation after the 
 last flood. It had been intended that the 
 measure should come into force before the flood, 
 but owing to the opposition of the Conservatives 
 its action had to be postponed to the date we 
 have mentioned. Meanwhile — and it is a beau- 
 tiful illustration of the principle of government 
 by majorities — the flood came, and drowned the 
 greater part of the population, all, in fact, except 
 the original man in the moon, who kept an ark 
 handy for such catastrophes. Here is the ark. 
 The figure in the middle distance is the gentle- 
 man in question. He is alone, you see — the 
 lunar Adam not having attained to the develop- 
 ment of ribs ; a malign providence had not been 
 able to produce an Eve to get him into trouble 
 with the constituted authorities — — "
 
 160 MEASURE FUR MEASURE. 
 
 '' Tom," said Elsie, coming up to the easel, 
 " do you know it is Sunday? " 
 
 " Yes ma'am," said Tom, " I know. I am 
 talking a mixture of theology and science-made- 
 easy, with a view to improving this lady's 
 mind." 
 
 " I am afraid Tom's science is much on a par 
 with his theology," said Keith, as he and Pauline 
 joined the group. 
 
 " Let us have the science in earnest, then," 
 said the incorrigible Tom, taking up Keith's 
 blue glass bottle from the writing-table. " This 
 is Keith's latest atrocity ; the very smell of it is 
 a passport to Kingdom-come. It is the same 
 delightful compound he meant trying on you. 
 Miss Pauline, that night he fished you up out of 
 the street. I almost fear that even the medicated 
 coral might not have availed to save you from 
 this stuff. In fact, I quite believe I saved your 
 life by appearing when I did. You owe me a 
 debt of gratitude." The remainder of Tom's 
 speech was addressed to Violet. " You see, 
 madam, it becomes important that this should 
 be tried on somebody. I am going to try it 
 myself some of these days, but I don't expect 
 any great result, as, like Miss Pauline, I am
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 161 
 
 supposed to be poison-proof. Elsie is so dead to 
 all scientific enthusiasm that she will not allow 
 herself to be experimented upon. Now, it has 
 occurred to me," Tom went on with admirable 
 gravity, " that you might be inclined to offer 
 yourself for the experiment. Of course, it would 
 kill you. But then think what an interesting 
 case you would make. Your name would be 
 known over all Europe as the first victim of lodo- 
 bromo-sulphuro-phospho-tetrahedra-ethylmethyl- 
 aldehyde of anything you like." And Tom pre- 
 pared to extract the stopper. " And we might 
 call it after you — don't you think so, Keith? 
 ' Violaniline ' would sound very well." 
 
 " Thank you kindly, sir," said Violet, curtsey- 
 ing, " but I am not ambitious." 
 
 " Hullo, Keith ! look here," said Tom, suddenly 
 changing his bantering gravity for earnest. 
 " This sealing is loose ; suppose somebody should 
 get smelling if?" 
 
 " It is all right, though," Keith said, as he 
 
 broke off the sealing-wax. "The stopper is 
 
 tight. You see, it won't come out. I will seal 
 
 it properly to-morrow. Meantime, we ought to 
 
 be thinking of starting for church." 
 
 " How shall we go? " said Elsie. 
 11
 
 162 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Couldn't we sail up in the ' Waterwitch ' ? " 
 suggested Pauline. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," said Tom, " a beneficent 
 providence has anticipated your Sabbath-break- 
 ing tendencies. There's no wind." 
 
 " We might walk," said Violet, " it is such a 
 beautiful day." 
 
 " Won't you find it a long way? " Keith asked 
 her. " It is pretty nearly ^^[^ miles." 
 
 "They might come back in the 'tub,' with 
 Duncan and the maids," was Tom's suggestion, 
 which solved the difficulty. 
 
 Upon reference to the elders, this plan was 
 adopted, and they all set out to walk to church 
 through the woods and along the shady ways by 
 the lochside. Mr. Keith took Violet under his 
 special charge, and the others all came along 
 together; but somehow Keith and Pauline 
 always found themselves side by side. Sir Peter 
 Fergus, among his other hospitalities, had ofiered 
 the Eosebank party the use of the Castle pew ; 
 and so they found themselves, on their arrival, 
 comfortably seated in a shady alcove, out of sight 
 of the congregation. The preliminary services 
 over, the preacher read out his text. He was a 
 young man, the son of the '' minister," and had
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 163 
 
 greatly distinguished himself during his uni- 
 versity career. He had won a Balliol Scholarship, 
 and was now a Fellow of an Oxford College. 
 The Eev. Walter Maitland, M.A., was tall and 
 spare in figure, mth a fine intellectual counten- 
 ance, full of earnestness and manhood. His 
 voice was clear and resonant ; he spoke simply 
 and unafiectedly, and with evident absorption in 
 his subject. 
 
 " ' With what measure ye mete it shall be 
 measured to you again.' 
 
 " We are somcAvhat accustomed, my brethen, 
 to consider spiritual life so distinct from physical 
 life as to have nothing in common with the 
 inexorable laws of nature. That the sequences 
 of natural phenomena should be inevitable does 
 not surprise us, but we are far from habitually 
 recognising the corresponding automatism of 
 spiritual laws. Yet the sacred writers enun- 
 ciate these laws with scientific precision as 
 absolute certainties covering the whole field of 
 man's activity, recognising no distinction between 
 spiritual and other concerns of life. In fact 
 there can be no greater mistake than to imagine 
 that we can play fast and loose with non-sensible 
 any more than with sensible phenomena, with 
 
 11—2
 
 164 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 ideas, with moral and spiritual any more than 
 with material interests, And yet no mistake is 
 more common. We talk of " turning over a 
 new leaf." But what fair inscription on the new 
 leaf will abolish the scrawls and blots of the 
 old? You cannot tear out the leaves of the 
 Book of Life. We unconsciously trust to the 
 future to remedy the self-indulgence of the 
 present, forgetting that the future is what we 
 make it, and that in the future, no less than in 
 the present, ' sufficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof.' No. The living present, no less than 
 the dead past, must bury its dead ; and to 
 carry over the deficit of life means moral and 
 spiritual bankruptcy. In a word, we are much 
 given to expecting to reap harvests we have not 
 sown, to gather good fruit from corrupt trees, 
 to secure results in life to which we have not 
 contributed. But what says the Master? 'Be 
 not deceived, whatsoever a man soweth that shall 
 he also reap.' 
 
 " We may take the words we have read, as 
 the expression of a great spiritual law, far-reach- 
 ing and inexorable : — ' With what measure ye 
 mete, it shall be measured to you again.' And 
 we see at once from its mode of statement that
 
 SA BBA TH MORNING. 1 65 
 
 it covers the whole life of man. It is one of the 
 many reciprocal dualisms of the Gospels, all 
 tending to the same end : — ' Give and it shall be 
 given unto you.' The outflow of life, so to 
 speak, is the measure of its inflow. We have to 
 put ourselves out at interest in life ; to give — 
 not merely things external to us — but ourselves ; 
 if we would receive more abundantly. ' He that 
 loseth his life shall save it.' 
 
 '' We cannot remain inert amid the spiritual 
 exchanges going on around us. Nature is ever 
 at work, building up her manifold life-forms or 
 unbuilding them, breaking them down when 
 they no longer fulfil their assigned function in her 
 economy. When any form ceases to give out its 
 due contribution to the general store, to take 
 part in the general life ; when it becomes inert, 
 isolated from the normal matter-exchanges going 
 on around it — then corruption, disintegration 
 has set in. And so, when it measures its life by 
 itself, as it were, it ceases to have any life to 
 measure. And when a man's own existence — his 
 own interest, his own happiness — are his measure 
 of life, his life is assuredly measured unto him 
 again in spiritual and moral degradation and dis- 
 solution "
 
 1&6 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 As the preacher read out his text, Hugh 
 Crawfurd settled himself in the corner of his pew 
 to think of Pauline and what he should say to 
 her when he met her, as he supposed he should 
 do, after service. But the speaker's individuality 
 was too strong for this, and Hugh found himself 
 listening, in spite of himself and in spite of his 
 inability to understand any religious exercise not 
 couched in the shibboleths of Little Zion. His 
 father, on the other hand, found the sermon a 
 veritable " season of refreshing," and described 
 it by means of various Scriptural metaphors, 
 which need not be set down here. But to come 
 back to Hugh. It was something new to him 
 to find it laid down from the pulpit that this life 
 had a value of its own, apart from any other, 
 and he could not take in the idea all at once. 
 It was not the spiritual twaddle he was used to 
 in sermons, so his ideas of the preacher's 
 meaning were somewhat vague ; but the text, as 
 a formula with which he was familiar, began to 
 haunt him, and then, by some obscure association 
 of ideas, the words of Violet's song began to 
 haunt him as well, and all through the rest of 
 the sermon they kept unceasingly recurring with 
 every pause in the preacher's address —
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 167 
 
 " Till I shall be sleeping 
 
 In the cold dark grave " — 
 
 till he felt as though he could bear it no longer, 
 but must rise and leave the church. That, how- 
 ever, could not be thought of ; and in due time 
 the servace came to an end. 
 
 " Now for Pauline," said Hugh to himself as 
 he followed his father and mother out of the 
 church, " it's lucky I got Violet away." 
 
 And then a storm of suppressed fury filled 
 his mind, for there — not a dozen feet off — was 
 his wife coming towards him with Mr. Keith and 
 Elsie. Mrs. Crawfurd was no less astonished at 
 this unexpected apparition ; but, mastering the 
 situation as she considered, she was on the point 
 of addressing Violet as Mrs. Dunbar, and was 
 only saved from making a fool of herself, and 
 perhaps bringing about a scandalous explanation, 
 by an accident. 
 
 Violet had not seen the effect her appearance 
 produced upon her husband. She had caught 
 sight of Mrs. Crawfurd, and her first impulse 
 was to avoid the meeting. But, in stepping 
 hurriedly back, she tripped on the raised turf- 
 border of the churchyard path and fell heavily 
 on her side, striking against a headstone as she 
 went down.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Then there was a commotion ; and, although 
 Violet was soon on her feet again, she was 
 evidently much shaken ; and Mrs. Cra^vfurd, who 
 was sincerely sorry that the accident had hap- 
 pened and as sincerely glad to be of service to 
 " Keith's wife," came to the rescue in her own 
 way: — 
 
 " You had better let her come with us, 
 Archibald, and some of you can drive up for 
 her in the afternoon.'^ 
 
 "What do you think, Keith \ " 
 
 " I think she ought to rest before she goes 
 home." 
 
 " Very well, Mrs. Crawfurd," said Mr. Keith, 
 '^ I think we must avail ourselves of your 
 kindness." 
 
 " And Dr. Dunbar had better come as well, 
 to look after her," Mrs. Crawfurd added in her 
 newly-found graciousness. 
 
 Just then Mr. Keith caught sight of Hugh, 
 standing in the background. He went over to 
 him and whispered : — 
 
 " Perhaps, Hugh, you had better go down to 
 Eosebank with Tom — you will be out of the 
 way." 
 
 " Thanks," said Hugh, "I will/'
 
 SA BBA TH MORXiyG. 1 6 9 
 
 Here the elder Mr. Maitland came up with 
 his son and Sir Peter Fergus, and, on finding 
 what had occurred, insisted that Violet should 
 not attempt to walk to Glenfinlas, but should 
 rest in the Manse till she could be sent for. 
 This arrangement was at once adopted by Keith, 
 whose dictum was, of course, final. So Violet 
 was handed over to the ladies of the Manse, who 
 made much of her after their own pleasant 
 fashion. Keith went to the Manse as well, and 
 spent a pleasant afternoon with his old friend 
 AValter Maitland. Hugh went with Tom and 
 Elsie and Pauline, and Sir Peter insisted on 
 carrying off the uncles to lunch at the Castle. 
 And so it happened that, after all, Mrs. CraAvfurd 
 got no opportunity of solving the mystery of 
 Violet's appearance at Loch Dhuil. 
 
 Hugh, however, did not get so much of 
 Pauline's society as he had promised himself. 
 Tom, at a hint from Elsie, who w^anted to talk 
 to Hugh about Violet, monopolised the young 
 lady completely; so that, by the time they 
 reached the boat, Hugh had hardly spoken a 
 dozen words to her. In the boat, he found him- 
 self at the tiller with one of the maidservants on 
 either hand. Elsie devoted herself to Kir sty,
 
 170 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and Pauline established herself in the bow 
 behind Tom, who took an oar with Duncan. 
 Not till well on in the afternoon did he get 
 Pauline to himself, and then he did not make 
 very much of the opportunity. They were left 
 alone in the terrace : Tom and Elsie had gone 
 into the house to make arrangements about 
 going for Violet. Hugh and Pauline strolled 
 about the lawn for a time, and then went into 
 the laboratory. He complimented her on her 
 picture : — 
 
 "What are you going to do with it?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I am painting it for Dr. Dunbar." 
 
 " He ought to feel highly honoured," said 
 Hugh. " I know I should if I were in his 
 place." 
 
 " It is I who am honoured," she said. " I 
 owe him much more than that for his kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Ah, Dunbar has a way of being very kind 
 to young ladies, as doubtless Miss Danby could 
 tell you." 
 
 " Do you know, Mr. Grawfurd," said Pauline 
 suavely, but looking him full in the eyes, " I 
 don't exactly believe that story. Besides, you
 
 SABBATH 3I0RNING. 171 
 
 forget that I have had the pleasure of making 
 the acquaintance of — of ' Miss Danby,' as you 
 call her." 
 
 This direct attack disconcerted Hugh, who 
 began to have an uneasy feeling that perhaps 
 Pauline knew the real state of the case. 
 
 " But it is just possible," he stammered out, 
 " that Miss Danby may have her own reasons for 
 not giving you her full confidence in the matter." 
 
 " That is to say, Mr. Crawfurd," — Pauline 
 spoke with the same directness as before — " that 
 Violet — I may call her Violet, since she is my 
 friend ; I am proud to have her for a friend — it 
 is at least to insinuate that she is untruthful. 
 Do you think it a man's part to slander a 
 woman — and in her absence, too 1 Besides, 
 you also forget that, even if I had not known 
 Violet, still I know Keith Dunbar. The man 
 who has treated Violet as her husband has done, 
 must be a miserable coward — unless he is so 
 wretchedly blind as not to see anything of her 
 worth. Dr. Dunbar is at least neither blind nor 
 weak. Doubtless you have excellent reasons 
 for making these suggestions, but I never listen 
 to accusations against my friends." 
 
 Hugh had never seen Pauline animated before,
 
 172 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 consequently he had never seen her look so 
 beautiful as durmg her delivery of this treatise 
 " Be Amicitiar And this eager advocacy on 
 Keith's behalf, instead of reassuring him, as it 
 would have done had he known anything about 
 women, disquieted him greatly and made him 
 think that the two had a much greater degree of 
 mutual understanding than was the case. The 
 chance emphasis which Pauline happened to 
 put on the word " excellent " misled him as to 
 the extent of her knowledge of Violet's affairs. 
 Tom used to tell a story of a man who couldn't 
 open his mouth without putting his foot in it. 
 The story exactly illustrated Hugh's frame of 
 mind on this occasion. He must needs fulfil the 
 measure of his iniquities by a totally gratuitous 
 sneer — this time levelled at Pauline herself. 
 
 To divert the conversation, she had taken 
 up the blue glass bottle from Keith's writing- 
 table, and was telling him all about it, laying 
 especial stress on the poisonous nature of the 
 compound, and what she considered Keith's 
 bravery in working with it, and chancing the 
 danger, in the hope of doing some good with it 
 after all. Hugh interrupted her : — 
 
 " Doubtless his labours do him honour." He
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 173 
 
 really could not help sneering. "You seem 
 wonderfully well informed about him too." 
 
 Pauline felt the rudeness without exactly see- 
 ing its force. 
 
 " I have had ample opportunity," was all the 
 reply she vouchsafed. 
 
 But Hugh could stand this no longer. He 
 felt he was making a fool of himself, and he 
 wanted to get somewhere out of the way, where 
 he could think over the situation quietly. 
 " I think I will go," he said. 
 " Hadn't you better wait, and go up with the 
 waggonette ? " 
 
 " No thank you, I would rather walk." 
 So they Avent round to the road, and, leaving 
 messages for the others, Hugh departed. He 
 had just sufficient presence of mind left to say, 
 as he went off, that he would probably call on 
 the morrow. 
 
 Before he had gone very far, Hugh left the 
 road, and, striking into the wood, found a com- 
 fortable place for a rest ; lighting a cigar, he set 
 himself to think out the situation, but he was 
 sorely puzzled. 
 
 " How much does she^know? " he asked him- 
 self, over and over again — only varying it with,
 
 174 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 *•' I wonder if they are engaged ? Keith, Keith ! 
 — nothing but Keith and Violet. I wish they 
 were both " 
 
 He sat there a long time, but could make 
 nothing of the case. He only got madder and 
 madder, especially with his wife for coming to 
 Kosebank. " Who ever would have thought of 
 that ? " he grumbled to himself. By-and-by he 
 heard the waggonette coming, and half got up, 
 meaning to ride with Tom. But when he saw 
 that Tom had the girls with him, he kept back 
 till they were well out of sight. Then he rose 
 to go, but by the time he reached the road he 
 remembered he had left his stick at Eosebank 
 
 '' Shall I go for it? " he muttered, " it will be 
 an excuse for to-morrow." He walked a few 
 paces towards home, when a new idea seemed to 
 occur to him, and he stopped, walked backwards 
 and forwards irresolutely for a few minutes, then 
 turned back towards Rosebank. " I may as well 
 get the stick after all," he said, half aloud as if 
 to assure himself of his mission. " Let me see, it 
 would be in the laboratory I left it." As at 
 matter of fact he had left it in the house, but 
 some people like to keep up appearances even 
 with themselves.
 
 SABBA TH MORNING. 175 
 
 When Hugh reached Rosebank, he went at 
 once to the laboratory, although it would have 
 been more in keeping with the proprieties if he 
 had looked into the hall as he passed. However, 
 he persuaded himself that the stick was in the 
 laboratory and he looked for it there. He went 
 all round the room without seeing his stick. 
 He could scarcely have seen it if it had been 
 there, for he hardly took his eyes off the bottle 
 on Keith's table. He found another bottle, too, 
 in one of the windows, lying carelessly in a 
 €orner. It was exactly similar to the one on the 
 table. This he put furtively in his pocket. 
 Then he came across a small corked phial. This 
 he emptied at the sink, and was going to fill it 
 from the bottle in his pocket when he changed 
 his mind. He got the bottle from the table, but 
 the stopper was difficult to get out ; then he tried 
 the other bottle— that stopper was stiff too. At 
 last he got one out, filled his phial, filled the 
 bottle up with water (taking care all the while 
 not to smell it), and placed the bottles, as he 
 thought, where he found them. Then he left 
 the room, taking the phial with him. 
 
 Hugh had got possession of the poison. 
 What he should do with it was a question for
 
 176 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 after-consideration. But his adventures were 
 not yet over. To keep up appearances with 
 himself, he went into the house for his stick, 
 passing through the entrance-hall into the passage 
 beyond. Hearing the click of a door-handle 
 further down the passage, he promptly slipped 
 through an open bedroom-door on his right, shut 
 it softly behind him and fastened it with the 
 catch. Then he stood by the mantelshelf, with 
 the bottle in his hand, and waited. He heard 
 the footsteps come [down the passage and die 
 away in one of the front rooms on the other side 
 of the house. Then he noticed a cloak hanging 
 on a chair, which cloak he seemed to recognise. 
 Mechanically he put the bottle on the mantel 
 while he went to look at the cloak. It was 
 Violet's. Then he got impatient, and, not daring 
 to go out by the front while that person was 
 about, he at last got out of the bedroom window 
 and went away. And not till he had nearly 
 reached Glenfinlas did he remember that he had 
 left the poison behind him in Violet's room. 
 His first impulse was to go back for the bottle. 
 But his dread of detection made him irresolute, 
 and his irresolution was reinforced by a thought 
 which, however, he would not allow to take
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 177 
 
 definite shape m his mind. But it was there, 
 and ugly enough it was. It was this: — that 
 Violet very likely would not notice the bottle 
 (this he emphasised), but that, if she did meddle 
 with it, Keith would be accused of her death, 
 and thus they would both be out of his way 
 together. 
 
 His next care was to get home unseen, so that 
 no one should know the time of his arrival. 
 This he managed to do. He established himself 
 in a lounge-chair in the garden, with a book, as 
 though he had been there all the afternoon. 
 And in that posture the Rosebank folk saw him 
 as they passed on their way home. 
 
 " Dear Hugh ! dear, dear Hugh ! " Violet mur- 
 mured as she saw him. " How I wish I could 
 come to you, my poor dear boy ! "
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SABBATH EVENING. 
 
 " Thej^ love not poison that do poison need." 
 
 King BicUard II. 
 
 HUGH CEAWFURD'S meditations were 
 not enviable. He was not exactly com- 
 fortable, to begin with ; and his thoughts hardly 
 got pleasanter as he dwelt on them. As the 
 waggonette rolled by on the high road, he was 
 near enough to hear the murmur of their happy, 
 careless talk, and the thought struck him in full 
 force of what that pleasant carelessness was to 
 turn to at Rosebank. For one of these pleasant 
 companions, at least, death was waiting ; for the 
 others, mourning and desolation. The thought 
 of the woman he had loved — of her gentle trust- 
 ing ways — her beautiful happy spirit, and of the 
 happy life they had lived together — came over 
 him like a flood, and he would have given the 
 world to have undone his afternoon's work. 
 The leaving of the bottle no longer appeared an
 
 SABBATH EVENING. 179 
 
 accident : — for — alas ! — how had he come to have 
 the bottle at all? More than ever came the 
 haunting words of Violet's song. He could hear 
 the dreamy waltz refrain : — 
 
 " !Night comes so soon — 
 Night comes so soon.'^ 
 
 Had the night fallen upon that bright sunny 
 spirit ? Then the other words took possession ; — 
 
 « Till I shall be sleeping 
 In the cold dark grave." 
 
 And with them the stern recurrences of the 
 preacher's w^ords : — 
 
 " With what measure ye mete " 
 
 Alas ! what measure had he dealt out to his 
 
 innocent, trusting wife? What a fate had he 
 
 prepared for Keith, who, so far from wronging 
 
 him, had loyally kept his secret under great 
 
 provocation. He was a murderer in intention' — 
 
 by default at the very least, for he might have 
 
 gone back for that 'bottle, and have thrown it 
 
 into the sea. Perhaps it was not too late ! But 
 
 no, he could not expose himself. And so the 
 
 weary strife went on. He was unfortunately 
 
 only too much accustomed to waves of intense 
 
 feeling resulting in very incommensurate action. 
 
 Indeed, this very agony was in its way a luxurious 
 
 excitement, but there was a fair amount of 
 12—2
 
 180 MEASURE FOR MEASURE, 
 
 reality about it too, and Hugh was ready to do 
 anything to undo his wicked work, except con- 
 fessing himself the author of it. 
 
 The tea-bell rang, and, always on the principle 
 of keeping up appearances, he went in at its 
 summons, although the effort was almost too 
 much for him. But it brought him a chance, as 
 it seemed — though he hardly knew whether it was 
 a relief or not — when his mother, finding he had 
 no news of Violet, announced her intention of 
 going to Eosebank. 
 
 " You shall drive me down this evening," she 
 said. " These accidents are very awkward some- 
 times, and I should like to be sure that no 
 harm has come to the girl." 
 
 At anyrate it was a chance for him to go to 
 Rosebank again, without laying himself open to 
 any suspicion, and, in sheer terror, Hugh grasped 
 at this one hope of escape from the consequences 
 of his action. Would he be in time \ That was 
 the question. And yet, he dreaded to come near 
 the house. Would it be in darkness — still with 
 the silence of death % Oh ! if he were once well 
 through with this, Pauline might marry whom 
 she liked, for him, and he would make it up to 
 Violet. But no. He found nothing unusual
 
 SABBATH EVENING. 181 
 
 about the house when he drove up to the porch 
 and assisted his mother to alight. 
 
 Hugh had framed no very definite plan of 
 action, except that, after he had taken the trap to 
 the stable, he would try and get hold of Violet and 
 persuade her to take him to her room for a talk, 
 and that he would then be able to possess him- 
 self of the bottle. But he got no opportunity 
 of putting his plan into execution. Tom and 
 Keith came out as Hugh drove up, and, while 
 Keith conducted Mrs. CraAvfurd into the house, 
 Tom went round with Hugh to the stables. 
 They came back throu:h the house, down the 
 passage Hugh had been in in the afternoon. 
 The same bedroom-door was standing ajar. As 
 they passed, Hugh made a movement to go in. 
 
 " I want to speak to Violet," he said. 
 
 " Here, you beggar," said Tom, catching his 
 arm " that is not her room." 
 
 " That is Violet's cloak on the chair." 
 
 " Very likely. Those girls are always fooling 
 about each others^ rooms. But that room is 
 Miss Carmichael's." 
 
 But the glimpse he had of the room was 
 sufficient to show Hugh that the bottle was 
 gone. He had little hope now. He could only
 
 182 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 resolve not to betray himself whatever happened. 
 Mechanically he followed Tom into the entrance- 
 hall, which was the general sitting-room of the 
 establishment. It was a pretty room, hung 
 round with pictures, except on the frontside, 
 which was one immense window built out in a 
 bay right across the verandah. In this window 
 Elsie and her father sat talking to Mrs. Crawfurd. 
 Keith stood behind Elsie's chair, talking to Mr. 
 Carmichael. Hugh had just time to take in all 
 this, as he stood with Tom on the highest of the 
 two steps leading down into the room, when 
 Violet and Pauline entered together from the 
 porch which extended from one end of the great 
 window. As they went up the room to join the 
 others, Hugh found himself beside Pauline. 
 Slie had the bottle in her hand. 
 
 Pauline, however, passed Hugh with a bow, 
 and went right up to Keith. 
 
 '' See what I have found in my room," Hugh 
 heard her say. " Why do you put beautiful scent 
 like that into nasty poison-bottles? I am sure 
 it is a poison-bottle — it is so ugly," and as she 
 spoke she removed the stopper, and raised the 
 bottle to her face. 
 
 Hugh was paralysed with terror. He stood
 
 SA BBA TE E VENTNG, 1 8 3 
 
 rooted to the spot. He could not go and tear 
 the bottle out of her hand. He could not cry 
 out. Not even for her life could he expose him- 
 self to suspicion. He turned his head away and 
 waited — waited to hear her fall. But he heard 
 no fall. What he heard was Keith's voice in 
 sharp surprise. 
 
 " Scent ! in that ? Allow me," and Keith got 
 possession of the bottle. Again Hugh felt the 
 horrible dread. 
 
 "AYhat is the matter with you, Hugh? " said 
 Mrs. Crawfurd, who happened to look his way 
 just at the time. 
 
 ''Nothing," said he, pulling himself together 
 by sheer instinct of self-preservation. He moved 
 over beside his mother, and listened with averted 
 head for the heavier fall he expected now. But 
 But Keith did not fall. He smelt at the bottle, 
 and an expression of intense bewilderment came 
 over his face. This was succeeded by a smile of 
 amusement as he handed the phial back to 
 Pauline. 
 
 " You must ask Tom," he said. 
 
 "Well, what is Tom to be asked now?" 
 queried that worthy in a tone of aggrieved 
 virtue.
 
 184 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Did you put this in my room ? " 
 " No, certainly not. I know nothing about it," 
 and Tom took the bottle and sniffed at it in his 
 turn. Keith's amusement increased as he watched 
 Tom's bewilderment. For Tom was evidently 
 bewildered. 
 
 "It is uncommonly like that precious dis- 
 covery of yours, Master Tom," said Keith. 
 
 " Like ! " said Tom. " It is my discovery. 
 And yet ! I don't understand it at all. No one 
 knew of this but yourself. I never put any of 
 the stuff in that bottle. In fact, Miss Pauline, 
 you had better ask Keith to explain." 
 
 '' No," said Keith, in answer to Pauline's look 
 of enquiry. " I cannot make it out any more 
 than Tom." 
 
 " What is your discovery, Tom ? " Elsie wanted 
 to know. 
 
 Tom looked wise, and shook his head. 
 
 " I will exhibit it to morrow," he said. 
 
 Here Mr. Carmichael interfered. 
 
 " By-the-by," said he, " whose bedroom-door 
 was it that was fastened ? " 
 
 " Mine," said Pauline. 
 
 " I say, Hugh," Tom called out, " did you 
 meet any suspicious characters in your travels
 
 SABBATH EVENING. 185 
 
 this afternoon? When we got home, Miss 
 Carmichael's bedroom-door was locked on the 
 inside, the window was open, and there were 
 footmarks in the flower-beds below." 
 
 " No," said Hugh, " appearing to reflect. " I 
 met no one, but then I walked up most of the 
 way by the beach." 
 
 "Ah!" said Tom, " that was why we didn't 
 see you, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, as for that," said Hugh, " I saw you 
 pass after I got home." 
 
 Tom said nothing more out loud, but Keith 
 and Pauline seemed to hear a word beginning 
 " with a big-big D." Evidently Tom did not 
 quite believe his statement. 
 
 " I wonder," said Mr. Carmichael, " if there 
 can be any connection between the locked door 
 and the mysterious bottle? I suppose, Mr. 
 Crawfurd, you cannot throw any light on the 
 subject? " 
 
 Hugh shook his head. 
 
 "Mr. Crawfurd was gone before we were," 
 said Pauline, " and the door was all right when 
 I left, and the bottle wasn't there either." 
 
 Hugh, in fact, was completely mystified himself. 
 The contents of the bottle were evidently inno-
 
 186 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 cuous ; and yet he knew what he had put in it, 
 and he almost shuddered as he thought of it. 
 But he was relieved nevertheless. That he had 
 allowed himself to meditate murder did not 
 trouble him so long as he was free from the 
 dread of the murder itself. But he got no 
 leisure to think. There was a general adjourn- 
 ment out of doors, and in the confusion Hugh 
 and Violet were not noticed, and presently found 
 themselves alone in the room. Of course, the 
 the first thing Violet did was to throw her arms 
 round Hughes neck and kiss him. And, as for 
 Hugh, the fatal plasticity of his nature so readily 
 responded to surrounding circumstances, that in 
 five minutes he was on his old terms with 
 Violet, as though he had never loved another 
 woman or meditated the death of this one. 
 
 " Now, dear," she said, " let us go and have a 
 nice talk. And you — you must have a smoke. 
 Come with me." And she led him down the 
 passage and across the kitchen into a passage 
 beyond ; then, opening a door, ushered him into 
 the laboratory. 
 
 " This is the smoking-room of the establish- 
 ment," she said. " Now you must light up at 
 once, for I want to come and sit on your knee."
 
 SABBATH EVEyiNG. 187 
 
 Huojh settled himself in Keith's chair and lit 
 a cigar, and Violet sat on his knee as she had 
 said. But he was not quite comfortable. Here, 
 in the very scene of his temptation, he could not 
 quite rid his mind of all trace of the day's agita- 
 tions. There was the fatal bottle on the desk in 
 front of him, and it fascinated him. He could 
 not keep his eyes off it. He had meant asking 
 Violet how she came to be at Eosebank? When 
 she was going to Scarsdale — and so forth. But 
 he could do nothing but kiss her absently now 
 and then, and look thoughtfully at the bottle as 
 he smoked. Again Violet's influence became 
 paramount, at least for the time being. He 
 began to think of plans for being more Avith her. 
 But none of his plans involved acknowledging 
 the marriage, or any exposure of his own conduct 
 — any confession of his wrong. He was roused 
 from his meditations by Violet, who began 
 laughing softly to herself. 
 
 " I am laughing at that funny little bottle," 
 she said. " It is full of a new poison, only 
 nobody has been killed by it yet. And Mr. 
 Tom — he is always making fun, you know — 
 wanted me to kill myself with it for the benefit 
 of science. But there is somebody nicer than
 
 188 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 science to live for. You wouldn't have your 
 poor little true wife poisoned, would you, 
 dear?" 
 
 And Hugh felt quite virtuously indignant with 
 Tom Challoner for his wicked tendency to 
 practical jokes.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DE. ANDERSON. 
 
 " A little sorrow, a little pleasure, 
 Fate metes us from the dusty measure 
 
 That holds the date of all of us ; 
 We are born with travail and strong crying, 
 And from the birth day to the dying, 
 
 The likeness of our life is thus." 
 
 A. C. ^inhume. 
 
 ON Monday morning, when the letters 
 arrived Mr. Keith and Mr. Carmichael 
 decided to return to to^vn with the afternoon 
 steamer. 
 
 " Couldn't I go instead of you, sir ? " said Tom 
 to Mr. Keith. 
 
 "Yes, certainly, as far as that goes; there is 
 nothing pressing. I am really going for company 
 to Carmichael. You can relieve me some other 
 time. Meanwhile you need not come up unless 
 I write for you. You have no objection, I 
 suppose, to stay and help Keith to take care of 
 the ladies?" 
 
 " Oh dear me, no," said Tom, laughing. 
 " Only I thought perhaps the firm might consider 
 themselves entitled to my valuable services." 
 
 " It is just possible," said the senior partner.
 
 190 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 smiling gravely, " that the firm may survive your 
 temporary absence. It is all right, Tom ; take 
 your holiday while you have the chance. Later 
 on, I may want you to take entire charge, while 
 your father and I take a holiday together. It is 
 many a year since we had that pleasure. Now 
 will you ask Mrs. Hugh Crawfurd if she will 
 speak a minute ? " {Anglice — favour me with a 
 few minutes' conversation). Mr. Keith always 
 avoided using Violet's assumed name, and his 
 household followed his example — preferring to 
 call her by her Christian name only, when her 
 rightful name could not be used. Latterly, 
 someone christened her " Dame Violet," and the 
 name was accepted as a happy compromise. 
 
 " Mrs. Crawfurd," said Mr. Keith, when Violet 
 came into the library, " Mr. Carmichael and I 
 have occasion to go to town for a few days, and 
 we wish you, as the only married lady in the 
 house, to take charge of our girls till our return. 
 Will you oblige us ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Keith, it is very kind of you 
 to propose it. After all, it seems there is an 
 advantage in being married." 
 
 And thus Mr. Keith postponed Violet's de- 
 parture until after his return at least.
 
 BR. ANDERSON. 191 
 
 " I have asked Elsie," he continued with a 
 smile, " to mention to your respected mother-in- 
 law, that, having you here, I did not think it 
 necessary to place the young ladies under her 
 protection, as I should otherwise have done." 
 (This was Mr. Keith's method of letting Mrs. 
 Crawfurd know his opinion of her daughter-in- 
 law.) " If it should happen that any of you are 
 ill, you will find her a most kind and capable 
 woman. I am not sure, do you know, that you 
 would not find it a good speculation to be ill 
 yourself, and to let her nurse you." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, Mr. Keith, but then 
 I am quite content to leave my position in my 
 husband's hands. I have no doubt he will do 
 what is right." 
 
 Duncan took the two uncles off in the " tub." 
 Keith and Pauline had arranged to go out 
 sketching, and were standing on the lawn with 
 their gear in their hands, talking to Violet and 
 Elsie, and watching the seniors climbing into 
 the steamer. They saw the boat cast off, and the 
 steamer gliding down the loch, till a headland 
 shut her from their sight. Then, as they stood 
 talking they were aware of Tom coming to them 
 from the laboratory with a bottle in his hand.
 
 192 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I promised to show you my discovery," said 
 he, " as he reached the group. " I think, 
 myself, it is an improvement on Keith's, and it 
 is not half so dangerous." He had a difficulty 
 with the stopper, but it yielded to his strong 
 fingers. " How do you like it, Miss Pauline ? " 
 
 Keith had been looking on amused, but all at 
 once he noticed the formula on the label : — 
 
 " Good God I " he exclaimed, " it's the wrong 
 bottle," and before Pauline could take it, he had 
 snatched it away. But in doing this, he brought 
 it too near his face, and inhaled the deadly 
 fumes. Yet even with his failing senses he had 
 thought for the others, and, with it, presence of 
 mind to throw the bottle away from them over 
 the low sea-wall, before he fell headlong on the 
 grass. 
 
 No one fainted. No one shrieked. They 
 stood for a second or two fascinated. Then, 
 without a word, Tom rushed off to the laboratory 
 to find a certain drug Keith had mentioned as 
 a possible antidote. Pauline sat down upon 
 the grass and raised his head upon her lap; 
 Elsie chafed his hands; while Violet ran for 
 water, and alarmed the servants, who came 
 running out. But all their remedies were of no
 
 BB. ANDERSON. 193 
 
 effect. Keith lay there, to all appearance, dead. 
 
 " Get me the sails for the ' Waterwitch,' 
 Kirsty — I must go for the Doctor. Mary, yoke 
 the ponies, and drive up for Mrs. Hamilton or 
 Mrs. Crawfurd. See about it, Elsie. Violet 
 bring some rugs. We won't take him in ; but 
 keep him warm. He will be better here in the 
 air. Now keep up your hearts, girls — he can't 
 have had much, and it's time enough to despair 
 when there is no hope." And Tom was gone. 
 
 For a few minutes Pauline was alone with 
 Keith. All around her shone the great beauty 
 she had so revelled in, and never had she had 
 such feeling for it; never such microscopical 
 vision for every detail — for every shrub on the 
 lawn — every mass in the foliage of its fringing 
 trees — every boulder on the beach — every ripple 
 on the glancing water — every shadow in the soft 
 \yhite, slow-balancing clouds — every gleam and 
 darkness on the far-off slopes. She saw Tom 
 rush doAvn with the sails, and noticed the angle 
 at which the spars crossed over his shoulder. 
 There was a line hanging loose, and she watched 
 for him to trip over it. She noticed his head- 
 long springing over the boulders — how he flung 
 
 the sails into the punt, and with what a rush he 
 
 13
 
 194 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 sent it off and sculled it out, shouting to Dun- 
 can, who was just getting back, to pull to the 
 " Waterwitch " instead of coming ashore. She 
 saw Duncan pull it up alongside just as Tom 
 got the jib set ; how the old man threw up his 
 hands as he heard the news, and then 
 straightened up into alertness, and sprang 
 aboard like a youngster as Tom jammed down 
 the helm, and the shapely craft sheered off. She 
 seemed to feel the tense grip Tom put upon the 
 tiller as the " Waterwitch " heeled over to lee- 
 ward, and sprang away round the point with 
 every stitch of her canvas set and every inch of 
 it drawing. 
 
 She saw Violet come out of the house with a 
 rug, and noticed as she descended the steps of 
 the verandah, that she had slippers on. " Then 
 she was not going out this afternoon," was 
 Pauline's thought. Violet brought the rug and 
 spread it over Keith, kissed Pauline silently, 
 and went away. Then Pauline heard the 
 waggonette drive off and wondered who had 
 gone with it. Then Violet came back with 
 another rug. 
 
 "Are you tired, dear?" she said. "Shall 
 I ?"
 
 BR. ANDERSON. 195 
 
 " No, dear," said Pauline, wistfully, looking 
 up with sad, dry eyes, " let me keep him while 
 I can. Unless — unless — " And the thought of 
 all Mrs. Cra^vfurd's talk came into her mind. 
 " Tell me : is he — is he your husband? " 
 
 " My husband ! " said Violet, in astonishment 
 " Certainly not. Whatever should make you 
 think that? " She passed her hand over Keith's 
 forehead. " I do believe he will come round, I 
 will go and tell Elsie." And she kissed Pauline 
 again and went away. 
 
 " Mine ! " said Pauline, softly to herself, 
 as she kissed Keith's pale forehead. " Oh, 
 my darling, my darling ! I knew you were 
 mine." 
 
 Kirsty came out and sat down by Pauline. 
 
 " Eh, my bonnie lad ! " she said softly, " the 
 brawest and the kindest lad that ever was ! 
 Sir's me ! sir's me ! " (" sorrow's me ! " — cf. the 
 English " woe is me ! ") She too passed her hand 
 over his forehead : " The Lord be praised ! Pm 
 thinkin' he's better nor he was. Eh, ma dawtie, 
 but it's richt prood he wad be gin he kent ye 
 wer' haudin' him ! Sir's me ! but he worshipt the 
 very grun' ye trod on." And the old woman's 
 words were not without their comfort for 
 
 13—2
 
 196 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Pauline afterwards — at the time, she scarcely 
 noticed them. 
 
 Elsie came back with Violet, and wanted to 
 relieve Pauline, who only shook her head. So 
 they sat down beside her, and cried softly ; but 
 she looked out to sea with dry eyes. 
 
 How long Pauline sat there with Keith's head 
 in her lap she could not have told. The others 
 came and went. She could only sit still. The 
 waggonette returned as it went. There was no 
 one at Fernbrae, and Mrs. Craw fur d was not at 
 home. Then the " Waterwitch " rounded the 
 point and made for the beach. There was no 
 stopping to moor her and come ashore in the 
 punt. Tom ran her right up on the shingle, and a 
 man jumped out and ran up the lawn, followed 
 by Tom. This was the doctor — a middle-sized, 
 clever-looking man with a long brown beard and 
 heavy moustache. He examined Keith care- 
 fully, felt his pulse, pushed up his eyelids, and 
 looked at his eyes : — 
 
 " I think he'll do," was his verdict, " but I 
 can't be sure yet. Have you a bed warm? " 
 
 " Yes,*' said Elsie, " it is all ready." 
 
 So Keith was carried in, and Tom and the 
 doctor put him to bed ; and by-and-by the
 
 DB. A2VDUES0JV. 197 
 
 doctor came out and announced that, though 
 his patient could not be considered out of 
 danger, there was every hope of his eventual 
 recovery. 
 
 "And now, Miss Elsie, if you will give me 
 something to eat, I shall be glad. I have had 
 nothing since breakfast. And mind, I shall 
 expect all you ladies to grace the meal. I want 
 to give you your instructions." And the doctor 
 vanished into the bedroom again. 
 
 " Now, Tom," he said, " can you show me 
 Keith's notes on this substance?" 
 
 " They are in the laboratory," said Tom. 
 "Shall we go there?" 
 
 " We may as well just ask one of the ladies to 
 take charge while we go." 
 
 Tom brought Pauline, and the doctor and he 
 adjourned to the laboratory and got out Keith's 
 manuscripts. 
 
 " Hm ! I really don't know what to say," the 
 doctor remarked as he turned over the papers, 
 " but, as far as I can judge, he is going on all 
 right for the present. But look here, Tom, how 
 on earth did this happen? I always thought 
 Keith a model of carefulness." 
 
 Tom told the story from beginning to end, and
 
 198 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 exhibited his own bottle standing on Keith's 
 desk. 
 
 " The bottles must have been changed," said 
 the doctor. " Who could have done it? " 
 
 " This bottle was in its place yesterday after- 
 noon just before we started," said Tom. " I 
 happened to come through this way, and I 
 looked at it. It had all my daft formula, 
 and I smelt it too, before I put it back in the 
 window." And Tom went on to tell about the 
 bottle in Pauline's room, and the resemblance of 
 its contents to his discovery, till the worthy 
 doctor was more mystified than ever. 
 
 "Which is Miss Carmichael?" he said. 
 And then : — 
 
 " And who is that beautiful grey-eyed young 
 lady?" 
 
 It was no time for keeping secrets, so the 
 doctor was put in possession of the facts. 
 
 " Then why isn't she with him ? " 
 
 " Because he is such an infernal humbug," 
 said Tom. " It's my belief, too, he has taken a 
 fresh fancy. He wanted to spoon after Miss 
 Carmichael all day yesterday." 
 
 " He was here yesterday, then ? But what did 
 Mrs. Hugh say to that? "
 
 BB. ANDERSON. 199 
 
 Here another story had to be told. 
 
 " Then I suppose you took him up with you, 
 when you went for his wife ? " 
 
 " No, he had gone just before." 
 
 "Walking?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then you would pass him on the road ? " 
 
 " No," said Tom, " and that surprised me, 
 because he had only a few minutes' start. And 
 that reminds me. He was here again in the 
 evening, with his mother. He said he went by 
 the beach, and was home before we passed. It 
 struck me at the time as a damned lie. And 
 yet, what did he want to tell a lie about it for? 
 It didn't matter." 
 
 " Hm ! looks like a lie, at anyrate. But, as 
 you say, what was there to tell a lie about? " 
 
 " I wonder if he could have been up to any 
 mischief ? " said Tom. " And yet — he could not 
 have made an appointment down this way — he 
 did not know he was coming, and he left unex- 
 pectedly. He had been humbugging Miss 
 Pauline, and I rather think she had slated him." 
 
 Here Mary came to call them to the dining- 
 room. They visited the patient on their way 
 and installed Kir sty in temporary charge. Then
 
 200 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 the doctor asked for Miss Carmichaers room, 
 and they went across to it, whereupon it occurred 
 to Tom to tell about Hugh wanting to go in 
 there to find Violet the night before. 
 
 '' Oh, indeed ! — said it was his wife's cloak, did 
 he ? Hm ! — Just get me that bottle of yours, 
 
 Tom Now the bottle that was found in 
 
 here." Pauline produced the latter. ..." Has 
 this bottle any previous history ? " 
 
 " It was lying in the window full of spirits of 
 wine." 
 
 '' Ah ! just so. . . . Will you smell those two, 
 Miss Carmichael, and tell me if you notice any 
 difference ? " 
 
 " This is much stronger than the other," and 
 Pauline held out the phial found in her room. 
 
 " Exactly. . . . And look here, Tom — did 
 you put the label on your bottle before or after 
 you filled it ? " 
 
 " After." 
 
 " Indeed. How do you account for the stuff 
 in this phial being so much stronger than 
 yours ? " 
 
 " I don't account for it at all," said Tom. 
 
 " I will tell you, then. This bottle was filled 
 from yours. Then yours — half empty by this
 
 BR. ANDERSON. 201 
 
 time — was filled up with water. Some of the 
 water flowed over the label where you see the 
 ink has run. Now, whoever did that left the 
 house ma Miss Carmichael's room, and left the 
 bottle as he went." 
 
 " By Jove ! yes," said Tom. 
 
 " But," said the doctor, " we are no nearer the 
 actual changing of the bottles." 
 
 " And I don't exactly see where the joke of 
 this trick comes in," said Tom. 
 
 " That only shows us we haven't come to the 
 
 end of the business yet Well, shall 
 
 we join the ladies? " 
 
 Elsie had the first innings : — 
 
 "How is Keith now. Dr. Anderson?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Just the same, my dear. I don't expect any 
 improvement before morning, and should hardly 
 believe in it if it came sooner. . . I shall have 
 another look at him before I go, and I shall be 
 back by nine o'clock or so. You must lend me 
 
 your trap, Tom You see, it is not as 
 
 though I could foretell the course of the illness. 
 I have to grope my way in the dark to a great 
 extent, so I must be at hand. You, ladies, shall 
 have your innings to-morrow. By-the-by, can
 
 202 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 any of you cook ? But, of course, you can, Miss 
 Elsie." 
 
 " And I can," said Pauline ; "I know what 
 invalids want." 
 
 " And I can," said Violet. 
 
 " And we have a good cook besides," said 
 Elsie. 
 
 " You are well off, indeed. Now, Miss Car- 
 michael, you shall be cook to night. I will tell 
 you what I want before I go. . . And will you'' 
 — addressing Violet (he could not call her 
 "Violet," like the others, and he seemed to have 
 their reluctance to use her assumed name) — 
 "will you just put Miss Elsie to bed, and keep 
 her there, so that she can be ready when I want 
 her ] She is your patient, remember. Keith will 
 want to see her to-morrow, and you must have 
 her looking blooming. . . Didn't you feel like 
 fainting when this happened? " 
 
 " Yes," said Elsie. 
 
 " And you kept up? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You are a brave woman, my dear. But you 
 would have done better to have gone off quietly : 
 — for your own sake. I should not wonder if 
 Keith is better before you are. . . . Now,
 
 DR. ANDERSON. 203 
 
 Tom, for you. You will go to bed at once, and 
 sleep till I call you. I shall want you to watch 
 the first part of the night, while I get my beauty- 
 sleep. . . And understand, young ladies, you 
 are all to go to bed properly to night. You 
 \vill have your work cut out for you to-morrow, 
 I quite expect. And now I must go and talk to 
 Kirsty." 
 
 Pauline noticed in the doctor's air and manner 
 something of the same vigilant controlled force 
 and promptitude of resource that had struck her 
 in Tom when he set off in the " Waterwitch." 
 There was no weak troubling about conse- 
 quences, but a certain intentness on what could 
 be done in the present, and a sense of readiness 
 for emergencies, which was very manful and com- 
 forting. All the girls felt it more or less, and 
 were comforted thereby. 
 
 The trouble passed away with the night, and 
 in the morning Dr. Anderson pronounced his 
 patient out of danger. 
 
 " Now," he said to Pauline, as he went away, 
 " he will wake, I think, in the course of the day, 
 but when, I cannot say. As you were last in 
 his thoughts, I want him to see you first when 
 he wakes. He needs no watching now. Just
 
 204 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 sit where he can see you, and read, or do any- 
 quiet work you like. And don't let him talk 
 when he wakes. Stay ! — is there anything he is 
 particularly well-used to seeing you do ? " 
 
 " He often watches me painting." 
 
 " Couldn't be better. Have your things here 
 and be doing something, and put the picture 
 where it will catch his eye at once." 
 
 Then he took leave of Violet. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Crawfurd, your patient had better 
 stay in bed to-day; but, as she doesn't need 
 much nursing and you may have to relieve Miss 
 Carmichael in the evening, you must take care 
 of yourself. Be out of doors and enjoy yourself 
 as much as you can, and mind you have a good 
 sleep in the afternoon. If Mrs. Crawfurd, of 
 Glenfinlas, should come over, just let her take 
 command of the house and your patient, but not 
 the other one. These elderly ladies want some- 
 thing to keep them out of mischief. You see, 
 she might be making up a match between those 
 young people in there. And if she brings her 
 son with her, you can take charge of the young 
 man, and keep liim out of mischief." 
 
 The Doctor, it must be confessed, was a man 
 of discernment.
 
 DR. ANDERSON, 205 
 
 Of course Mrs. Crawfurd (senior) arrived in 
 the course of the morning; and equally, of course, 
 she took command of the establishment. She 
 also brought her son with her — rather against 
 his will, for he was dubious as to the connection 
 Keith's accident might have with his doings of 
 Sunday. Mrs Crawfurd tried to oust Pauline 
 from the sickroom, and to substitute Violet, on 
 the ground that the latter, as a married woman, 
 was — as laid down in her gospel according to the 
 proprieties — alone eligible for the position. 
 Pauline, however, was not to be moved, and so, 
 while the old lady was busy, Violet had a long 
 morning with her husband, and enjoyed it to her 
 heart's content. She got him to take her out on 
 the loch in the "tub." They drifted down a 
 quiet bay in the morning sunlight, and Violet 
 could talk of nothing but Pauline and Keith. 
 
 " He did it to save her," she said. " Was it not 
 noble of him? Even if he had died, it would 
 have been a noble death. He loves her, I am 
 sure. What would you have felt, dear, if you 
 had seen me just going to be poisoned?" 
 
 Hugh duly represented the required state of 
 feeling, and Violet went on : — 
 
 " I could not be sorry enough, dear, because I
 
 206 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 was SO thankful it had not been your lot to 
 snatch that dreadful bottle away from me. It 
 did seem so hard and wicked of me." 
 
 Hugh, of course, expressed a coincident 
 thankfulness, without, however, letting Violet 
 understand how thoroughly the feeling was 
 warranted in her case. In fact, he felt himself 
 quite capable of a similar heroism. (N.B. — Duly 
 reserving the right of recovery.) 
 
 " And she loves him too, dear. Is it not nice ? 
 She has been so devoted to him — so brave and 
 helpful. — I am sure Dr. Anderson saw it, and 
 that is why he made her nurse to-day. She 
 never cried till she got to her own room at night, 
 and then I believe she cried till morning. You 
 should have seen her as she sat on the lawn, 
 nursing his poor head ; — such a world of misery 
 in her dry eyes. And yet she looked so brave 
 too, and so proud of him." 
 
 Again Hugh offered a few remarks suitable 
 to the occasion. 
 
 " And I think, too, Mr. Carmichael has taken a 
 great fancy to Keith, and he will like him more 
 than ever now he has saved her life, almost at 
 the cost of his own " 
 
 Hugh began to think that he had played his
 
 DR. ANBER80N. 207 
 
 cards very badly. Perhaps that is rather a 
 translation of his thoughts, for Hugh, poor 
 fellow, knew nothing of whist, and would not 
 have understood its metaphor. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
 PRIKTKD BY 
 CHAS. STRAKER & SONS, BISHOPSGATE AVENUE, LONDON, E.G. 
 AND REDHILL.
 
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