"L I E> RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVLRSITY 
 Of ILLI NOIS 
 
 823 
 L522s
 
 A Scots Thistle 
 
 BY 
 
 E. N. LEIGH FRY 
 
 AUTHOR OF "SHREDS AND PATCHES 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON 
 
 fuMtsljcrs in ©rMttarn to !*r gtajwig iljt i^vzzit 
 
 1892 
 
 [All Eights Reserved']
 
 853 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MEMORY 
 
 OF 
 
 AULD LANG SYNE 
 
 C 
 
 s
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Nether Kintocher stood a little way back 
 from the main road which ran through the 
 village of Kintocher. A mile further on, in 
 the direction of the town of Dunfechan, 
 were the gates of the avenue of Kintocher 
 proper, the "big hoose," where dwelt Mrs. 
 Jamieson of Kintocher and her daughters. 
 
 Nether Kintocher was not much more 
 than a cottage, a square, white-washed, two- 
 storied house, with an irregular bit added on 
 at the back, which contained the kitchen and 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " offices." Behind lay a large, old-fashioned 
 garden, and the "washing-green;" at the 
 sides there were some little attempts at 
 shrubbery, and, sloping down towards the 
 road, a broad, smooth lawn. The whole was 
 surrounded by high walls, coped with a neat 
 arrangement in broken bottles. The whole, 
 that is, with the exception of the side next 
 the road ; here the wall was only half the 
 height of the rest, and topped by an iron rail- 
 ing, the architect having possibly considered 
 this a more elegant object for the public gaze 
 to rest upon than the broken bottles. 
 
 Nether Kintocher was part of the 
 Kintocher property, and therefore belonged 
 to Mrs. Jamieson of Kintocher, or, more 
 properly, to her son Dick. But Dick 
 Jamieson had been so little at home since 
 his boyhood, being nearly always away with 
 his regiment, that, somehow, the country 
 people had fallen into the way of regarding 
 the mother, rather than the son, as the owner
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 of Kintocher. The " big hoose " was al- 
 ways occupied by the female members of the 
 Jamieson family, and Nether Kintocher had 
 for nearly twenty years been rented by the 
 Miss Wardlaws. 
 
 These ladies were the orphan daughters 
 of an Edinburgh doctor, and when they 
 first came to Kintocher there were three of 
 them — Grace, Elizabeth, and Izobel. Izobel 
 was much younger than her sisters, and was 
 a pretty, delicate-looking girl. She was 
 pretty enough to charm the fancy and win 
 the heart of a yellow-haired sailor, Willie 
 Graham, the second son of Graham of 
 Achnahiel, the great Highland laird. 
 
 Willie Graham had, of course, no earthly 
 business to fall in love with the daughter of 
 an Edinburgh doctor. There had been 
 Grahams at Achnahiel many a day before 
 there were Campbells at Inveraray, or Came- 
 rons at Lochiel. The Grahams of Achna- 
 hiel claimed kin with the Great Marquis of
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Montrose, and — though they spelled their 
 name with a difference — with Bonnie Dun- 
 dee. The Grahams, to a man, had been 
 out in " The Fifteen " and " The Forty- 
 five" ; and the only reason the Achnahiel 
 estates were not confiscated, after the fatal 
 day of Culloden put an end to the hopes of 
 all loyal Scots, was that when that bloody 
 fight ended, the only male representative of 
 the Grahams left alive was a baby boy, not 
 three months old. Achnahiel himself, and 
 his two broad-shouldered, yellow-haired sons, 
 lay dead on that " waefu' muir," face to the 
 loe. 
 
 At Castle Achnahiel two sorrowful 
 women, widows both, hung over the little 
 mite of humanity, the last hope of the 
 Grahams, and mingled their tears for his 
 dead sire and grandsire ; while, even as they 
 wept, they sternly vowed, "gin they had as 
 mony mair, they wad gie them a' to Charlie." 
 They expected nothing more or less than
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 5 
 
 that " German Geordie " would take their 
 estates, and drive them from Achnahiel ; 
 but, as it chanced, he did not. Possibly he 
 may have thought Baby Angus would be 
 brought up to remember his clemency, and 
 be a loyal subject to him — and it was worth 
 while risking- something for the Graham 
 allegiance. They did nothing by halves : 
 if they got an idea into their heads, they 
 stuck to it ; for the king they acknowledged 
 they would give up wealth, estates, body, 
 soul. "German Geordie" was right if he 
 thought it worth while trying to win a 
 Graham over to his side. 
 
 Not that he did win ; never again were 
 the loyal Scots' claymores drawn for Bonnie 
 Prince Charlie, but, to the last day of his 
 life, Angus Graham drank to the King 
 "over the water," and for his sake he would 
 have given his blood and money as reck- 
 lessly as his forebears. Indeed, it was not 
 till the reign of Queen Victoria that the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 house of Guelph could count that of Ach- 
 nahiel on its side ; and then — though not 
 the heiress of the Stuarts — the reigning 
 sovereign was proud to own that their blood 
 ran in her veins. 
 
 And so, to return to Willie Graham, 
 what right had he, the offspring of heroes, 
 he, who, by blood, was pure Highland 
 aristocrat — what right had he to go and fall 
 in love with the daughter of an Edinburgh 
 doctor ? 
 
 That was what his stately mother wanted 
 to know, and that was what Achnahiel 
 himself wanted to know when Willie strode 
 into Castle Achnahiel one fine morning, and 
 calmly announced he was going to marry 
 Izobel Wardlaw. What right had he to 
 think of such a thing ? 
 
 Willie tossed back his yellow curls and 
 made answer straight enough. The right 
 every free-born man had to marry a pure, 
 good girl whom he loved, and who loved him.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 In her heart his mother admired her 
 bonnie son's fearless independence, as he 
 stood there facing her and his father. And 
 she knew, and his father knew it would be 
 ill to get him to break the promise he had 
 made to the girl he loved ; for he was a 
 Graham, a strong-willed, pig-headed, obsti- 
 nate, leal Graham, as they all were ; and 
 when Graham meets Graham, the results 
 from a similar conjunction of Greeks become 
 insignificant. 
 
 But the father and mother were very- 
 wise, very wary. They tried gentle per- 
 suasion and mild argument with this head- 
 strong younger son of theirs. They asked 
 him to wait a little ; it would be but wise ; 
 he might change his mind ; she might 
 change hers. They made every suggestion 
 they could think of as a reason for breaking 
 off or postponing the affair. But to every- 
 thing Willie made the same answer — he 
 loved Izobel, he had promised to marry her,
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 and nothing could induce him to break his 
 promise. But he was quiet and respectful, 
 however obstinate, till in an unlucky moment 
 his mother lost her temper, and made a sharp 
 reflection on the girl who had " entangled" 
 him. Heaven help them then ! Willie 
 turned on her, with his blue eyes flashing. 
 
 " Mother, if you dare to say that again, 
 by Heaven, I will never darken your door 
 as long as I live ! " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir," said the father ; 
 " don't let me hear you speak to your mother 
 in that tone ! " 
 
 " Then, let her keep her tongue off 
 Izobel," said Willie, defiantly. 
 
 The tempers of all three were up now, 
 and it was easy to foresee the end. 
 
 "Once for all," said Achnahiel, sternly, 
 " will you give up this girl and marry in your 
 own station an honourable gentlewoman, as 
 a Graham of Achnahiel should ?" 
 
 " Once for all, sir," flashed back the son,
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I will not give up Izobel Wardlaw, who is 
 an honourable gentlewoman, and for whose 
 love any Graham of Achnahiel might go 
 down on his knees and thank God — and 
 whom I would not change for a Princess of 
 the blood royal." 
 
 " Then out of the house with you ! " 
 shouted the enraged father. " Go back to 
 your apothecary's wench ; and as sure as you 
 marry her, I'll cut you off with a shilling, 
 and never look on your face again as long as 
 you live ! " 
 
 " I take you at your word," cried Willie, 
 choking with rage ; " I'm going straight back 
 to Miss Wardlaw now, and I shall marry 
 her as soon as ever she'll let me. And, as 
 for your money, you can cut me off with a 
 farthing if you like, and be damned to 
 you ! " 
 
 And with that he flung out of the house, 
 catching up his portmanteau, which still 
 stood in the hall, on his way, and that was
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 the last time that Graham of Achnahiel or 
 his wife ever set eyes on their bonnie, yellow- 
 haired son. 
 
 I am not going to defend Willie Graham 
 for the tone he adopted towards his parents, 
 nor for that last incorrect expression, which, 
 doubtless, would have been incorrect even if 
 not addressed to the author of his being. 
 The facts are merely set down as they 
 occurred, and history must be written im- 
 partially. 
 
 Willie took the first train back to his 
 lady-love, but when he reached her bower 
 he encountered another difficulty on which 
 he had not reckoned. 
 
 Izobel's two elder sisters, and guardians, 
 positively refused to allow their sister to 
 marry a man whose family considered her 
 beneath him. They might not be able to 
 trace their pedigree back as far as the 
 Grahams could by a few hundred years or 
 so, but they were as proud, every bit as
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. n 
 
 proud. Willie entreated, and stormed, and 
 swore in vain. They were firm ; as firm as, 
 if less abusive than, his own parents had 
 been. 
 
 Of course, that ought to have been the 
 end of it. With another man it possibly 
 might have been ; but then this man was a 
 Graham, and love takes the Grahams very 
 much as loyalty does — it goes to their heads, 
 and they are neither to hold nor to bind. 
 Willie stormed about the drawing-room of 
 these quiet maiden ladies, making them 
 tremble for the fate of their ornaments and 
 furniture, and then finally swirled out of the 
 house like a concentrated young sirocco, 
 swearing he would have his way. 
 
 And have it he did. Miss Grace and 
 Miss Lizzie had settled down to peace and 
 quietness again, and the belief that this 
 disturbing love-affair was over, when one 
 morning Izobel was missing. The two 
 sisters had scarcely time to get seriously
 
 12 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 disturbed about her before she reappeared — 
 tucked under Willie Graham's arm, and he, 
 audaciously triumphant, announced she was 
 his wife, as hard and fast as holy Church 
 could make her. 
 
 What was to be said ? Miss Grace felt 
 it her duty to read them a lecture ; but, 
 having done that, did not see her way to 
 anything further — unless forgiving them. 
 The thing was done and could not be 
 undone, and what was the use of marring 
 the happiness of the naughty young couple 
 by glooming at them ? 
 
 Not that I ought to call Izobel naughty ; 
 the idea of a runaway wedding had appalled 
 her. It was not her fault, but her gentle, 
 clinging nature was completely dominated by 
 the splendid audacity of his, and she might 
 have done much worse than marry him had 
 it been his royal will. 
 
 So they were forgiven; and then followed 
 two months of happiness. Two little months
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 13 
 
 of such perfect, blissful happiness, that poor 
 Izobel sometimes trembled, and almost 
 prayed Heaven to send her some little 
 cross, some pinpricks of discomfort, so that 
 it would leave this great beautiful love 
 that wrapped her round untouched. Poor 
 little soul ; it may be she thought the great 
 Giver of all good grudges us our happiness, 
 and has some sort of enjoyment in dis- 
 pensing worries. Perhaps, she is scarcely 
 the only Christian who has unconsciously 
 nourished this heathen creed. 
 
 But the end came, and Willie had to 
 rejoin his ship. He gave his wife in 
 charge of her sisters, and conjured them 
 to be good to her, to take care of her, to 
 compass her with all sweet observances 
 till he came back again. As though the 
 faithful women, who had guarded her from 
 her cradle, needed any such injunctions! 
 But they liked him none the worse for 
 that ; and Miss Lizzie shed sympathetic
 
 i 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 tears over the parting of this husband of 
 twenty-two, and his wife of barely eighteen 
 summers. Miss Grace, I have my own 
 reasons for knowing, felt as deeply for 
 them, but she never cried, on principle. 
 
 Up to this time the sisters had lived 
 in Edinburgh, but after Willie's departure 
 they took the lease of Nether Kintocher, 
 and removed there. They thought the 
 country air would be good for Izobel, 
 who was never very robust, and who it 
 soon became evident was going to follow 
 in the footsteps of all Graham matrons, 
 and present her husband with a pledge of 
 mutual affection at the earliest opportunity. 
 When this news was imparted to Willie, 
 he wrote home his royal commands that 
 the said pledge was to take the shape of 
 a daughter, and to be another Izobel, 
 made in her mother's image. Izobel had 
 thought of a son, another Willie. But 
 after this, she may have given her mind
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 15 
 
 to the production of a daughter ; at all 
 events, when the due time came, the 
 squalling mite of humanity that the doctor 
 put into the arms of the two anxious, 
 expectant sisters was a girl. So far, Izobel 
 had fulfilled her lord's commands, but, 
 for the rest, she had dismally failed. She 
 had given him a daughter, but not another 
 Izobel. This small squalling personage 
 was a Graham, not a Wardlaw ; if ever 
 child was a faithful reproduction of its 
 father, this was ; but for her sex, she was 
 another Willie. 
 
 The poor little mother was delighted. 
 
 " It's just my Willie over again," she 
 said, "just my Willie. And it is a girl, 
 so surely he'll not mind she's not like 
 me. 
 
 The sisters were a little dismayed at 
 the likeness. They confided to each other 
 they did not think it would be a bonnie 
 bairn. It had Willie's mouth, and that
 
 1 6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 was too big for a woman's, said Miss 
 Grace and Miss Lizzie, both of whom had 
 neat little Wardlaw mouths. And it had 
 Willie's short upper lip, which — deary 
 me! — meant temper. It had Willie's 
 nose, and that was neither Grecian nor 
 Roman. It had Willie's eyes — ah, well, 
 that was a redeeming feature ; no one could 
 quarrel with those great blue orbs of his, 
 whether they looked tender or defiant. 
 But then, alack-the-day ! it had Willie's 
 liair, and that was the crowning point in 
 the dismay of Miss Grace and Miss 
 Lizzie. All three sisters had dark, 
 abundant, glossy hair ; and the two elder 
 ones had always pronounced Willie's to 
 be red. Izobel said it was yellow, with 
 a dash of gold through it ; and his mother 
 would have agreed with her. Which was 
 right I do not pretend to decide ; but 
 there could not be a shadow of doubt 
 that the sisters were right when they .
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 17 
 
 pronounced the few stray hairs, which 
 adorned the bald pate of Izobel's baby, 
 just the colour of its fathers. So Miss 
 Grace and Miss Lizzie privately shook 
 their heads, and feared it would not be 
 a bonnie bairn. 
 
 As to Izobel, she thought it was as an 
 angel from Heaven for beauty. It was like 
 Willie, just like her Willie ; and what would 
 he say when he saw it ? He was coming 
 back to her now soon ; soon he would be 
 with her, and his strong arms round her 
 again. 
 
 Alas ! poor soul ! never again in this 
 world would she and her Willie meet. 
 
 Far away in the Bay of Bengal rode a 
 gallant ship, and from her deck there rose 
 the cry of, "Man Overboard!" Only a 
 common sailor, and he could not swim ; and 
 there were sharks about. They flung him 
 a life buoy and lowered a boat as fast as 
 they could. But not so fast as Willie 
 vol. 1. 2
 
 18 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Graham saw a horrid white gleam in the 
 water, not so fast as he whipped off his 
 coat and took a header over the ship's 
 side. 
 
 To what purpose ? Was he mad ? 
 Would all the swimming in the world save 
 a man from a shark ? And where there was 
 one shark were there not more ? and would 
 one man suffice for their banquet ? 
 
 You may ask ; but did ever Graham 
 stop to ask questions when there was danger 
 and he could run his neck into it, when there 
 was a life in the balance and he could fling 
 his own in beside it ? Willie Graham did 
 not ; he was overboard in a trice. And 
 then ? and then in a moment the water was 
 alive with these tigers of the deep, who 
 seized their prey, and dragging them down, 
 fought, and tore, and struggled over their 
 ghastly meal. And the onlookers could but 
 see the sickening sight, and do nothing. 
 
 So died Willie Graham, not the first of
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 19 
 
 his gallant race who staked a noble life on 
 a hopeless throw, and flung it away to no 
 purpose. And, yet, who shall say to no 
 purpose ? for surely every noble, unselfish 
 endeavour, however unsuccessful, must leave 
 this poor world richer than it was before. 
 
 This was the news which came to 
 Nether Kintocher when Izobel's baby was 
 little more than a month old, and she her- 
 self was getting slowly better. Only very 
 slowly, for she was a fragile little thing, and 
 though she had never been very ill, she was 
 a long time getting up her strength again. 
 The anxious sisters said to themselves, and 
 to her, that a sight of Willie would do her 
 more good than anything. And then the 
 awful tidings came. Poor women, they kept 
 it from her as long as th^y could, but it had 
 to be told at last, and it was not hard to 
 see it was her death blow. And they 
 could do nothing for her — nothing. When 
 she cried out for Willie they could not give
 
 20 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 him back to her. When she woke from her 
 troubled sleep shrieking to them to save 
 him, save him, what could they do but hold 
 her in their arms, and bid her be calm ? 
 And when she wildly cried to them to tell 
 her it was not true, alas and alas ! they could 
 not tell her that. So when at last the 
 doctor told them that his skill was of no 
 avail, and that Izobel was fast going after 
 her young husband, they felt — despite the 
 wrench at their own hearts — to wish it 
 otherwise would be cruel. 
 
 When they told Izobel, she smiled and 
 roused herself a little, and bid them send 
 to Dunfechan for old Mr. Seton, the writer. 
 And when he came she made him write 
 down that her sisters were to be the sole 
 guardians of her baby daughter ; that all 
 her little money was to be the child's ; and 
 that till she came of age it was to be 
 paid half-yearly to the sisters, so that they 
 should have no more expense than they had
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 21 
 
 had with her, for Dr. Wardlaw had left 
 his daughters equal portions. So Mr. 
 Seton made the poor little will, and de- 
 parted. 
 
 Izobel had made her baby safe. Her 
 sisters would love it ; the Grahams, who had 
 been cruel to her Willie, who had despised 
 her, should not have it. That was what 
 had been on her mind, but she had made 
 it all right now. Then she dozed off, and 
 the sisters sat watching her long and 
 silently. The gloaming had stolen over the 
 skies when she opened her eyes and looked 
 at them. 
 
 "Grace and Lizzie," she said, "you'll 
 mind baby — I must go to Willie." 
 
 And then she passed quietly away into 
 the shades, where her faithful sisters might 
 not follow, but where, please God, she 
 found her Willie.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 And the poor little fatherless, motherless 
 mite, not two months old, wept in its aunt's 
 arms. It did not know what good cause 
 it had for weeping, but it cried its baby 
 cry, and Miss Lizzie wept over it — Miss 
 Grace, I have already said, did not cry, on 
 principle. 
 
 She was a practical woman, even when 
 her heart was at its sorest. 
 
 "Doctor," she said, "will we need to 
 get a nurse for the bairn ? or do you think 
 that she'll do on the bottle ? " 
 
 " I see no reason you should not bring 
 
 her up by hand, Miss Wardlaw," returned 
 [22 J
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 23 
 
 the doctor ; " she's a fine strong baby, and 
 you have your own cow there. I think you 
 might try it, anyhow." 
 
 "Oh, I'm glad of that," said Miss Lizzie, 
 tearfully, " for I've just a horror of a strange 
 woman to nurse the bairn. For what is one 
 to know about them, and what sort of nature 
 and disposition the child may be sucking in 
 with her milk ? And them as often un- 
 married as not." 
 
 '• Hout ! Havers ! " said Miss Grace, 
 with good-natured contempt. " You might 
 just as well say, Lizzie, that she'll be sucking 
 in a cow's nature from her bottle. Not but 
 what," she added, "I'm glad we can do 
 without an idle tawpie, trolloping round the 
 house." 
 
 So the two maiden ladies found them- 
 selves with a baby to bring up by hand. 
 And a fine time they would have had of it, 
 amid all the contradictory advice of their 
 neighbours of high and low degree, but that
 
 24 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Miss Grace, with grim politeness, refused to 
 accept any. Any, that is, except what she 
 got from Dr. Beattie, and from Mrs. 
 Mclntyre, a decent farmer's wife, who lived 
 on the hill behind Nether Kintocher, and 
 had successfully brought up ten strapping 
 bairns of her own. 
 
 And the child throve apace. They 
 christened her Izobel, after her mother ; it 
 had been Willie's wish, so, of course, 
 Izobel's, and now it was their own. 
 
 " But," said Miss Grace, " we'll just call 
 her Bell, Lizzie. Not that I hold with 
 nick-names — though there's yourself with 
 your own name twisted out of any sense ; 
 but to hear anyone calling Izobel through 
 the house again is just more than I could 
 bear." 
 
 Willie Graham had had no communica- 
 tion with his parents from the day he had 
 dashed out of Castle Achnahiel, flinging a 
 bad word back at his father. Gentle Izobel
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 25 
 
 had urged him to write and say he was 
 sorry. And he was honestly sorry for the 
 temper and disrespect he had shown ; 
 though not one whit for keeping his plighted 
 word, and wedding Izobel " in spite o' them 
 a'," as he was careful to assure her ; though 
 happy Izobel did not need the assurance. 
 He would have written then and there, and 
 expressed his penitence, but for his High 
 land pride suggesting the fear that his 
 apology might be taken as sent with some 
 arriere-pensie about that shilling with which 
 he had been cut off. As though anyone 
 who knew him would ever have suspected 
 him of cringing for the sake of money. 
 However, for that reason, Willie, though 
 always meaning to write some day, made one 
 delay after another, until that ghastly tragedy 
 in the Bay of Bengal put an end for ever to 
 his expressing his sorrow for his angry words 
 in this world. 
 
 But, although he had not written, the
 
 26 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 newspapers informed his parents of his 
 marriage, and the birth of his child, and 
 then — soon after the terrible news of his 
 own death reached them — of the death of 
 his poor little widow. It was in consequence 
 of this that one morning Miss Grace 
 received a letter from Mrs. Graham of 
 Achnahiel, in which that lady stated she 
 wished to have her son's child in her 
 own care, and she would feel obliged if 
 Miss Wardlaw would have the infant 
 ready to travel on the next day, as she 
 was sending her housekeeper — a woman 
 well accustomed to children — to brino- it 
 to Achnahiel. 
 
 "Quick work," said Miss Grace, grimly, 
 and then she bid Christina, the servant lass, 
 run up the village, and see if she could get 
 Duncan Davidson to walk into Dunfechan 
 with a telegram. 
 
 Miss Lizzie clasped the baby in an 
 agonized way, and watched her sister as one
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 27 
 
 seeking deliverance from danger, while the 
 latter took pen and wrote : — 
 
 "Miss Wardlaw, Mrs. Graham, 
 
 Nether Kintocher, Castle Achnahiel, 
 
 by Dunfechan. by Nairn. 
 
 Do not send your servant to-morrow. A 
 letter will follow to explain." 
 
 Miss Grace blotted it carefully, and 
 handed it to her sister. 
 
 " But what will you explain?" asked 
 Miss Lizzie, anxiously. 
 
 " Just the simple facts," said Miss 
 Grace, calmly, " that by the terms of her 
 mother's will we are left the sole guardians 
 of the bairn, and could not give her up 
 to anyone else, if we wanted to." 
 
 " Oh, and will that be enough, do you 
 think, Grace ? " said Miss Lizzie. 
 
 " Hout ! yes ; more than enough," 
 returned Miss Grace, conclusively.
 
 28 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 And so it proved ; for, to Miss Lizzie's 
 intense relief, they heard no more from 
 Achnahiel, and were left in undisturbed 
 possession of their niece. 
 
 They got the child safely through all 
 her baby troubles ; she had not many of 
 them, it is true, and she cut her teeth 
 with an equanimity which was, I fear, 
 disappointing to some of the neighbours 
 whose advice had been overlooked. But 
 in some respects she was a trying child, 
 and she did her best to ruin her Aunt 
 Lizzie's nerves irretrievably. She had a 
 passion for getting out of bed headfore- 
 most ; she crawled downstairs whenever 
 she could seize a chance, and generally 
 rolled the last half of the way ; if there 
 was anything that came within the scope 
 of her climbing powers, she climbed it ; 
 she pulled heavy objects over on the top 
 of her small person ; she tested the con- 
 sistency of most foreign substances in her
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 29 
 
 mouth ; and she had even more than the 
 ordinary baby love for the coal-scuttle. 
 There is no doubt she was a trying child ; 
 and Miss Lizzie shook her neat glossy 
 head, and said she had nothing of a 
 Wardlaw about her, there was no doubt 
 she was a Graham ; and Miss Grace opined 
 grimly, she doubted she should have been 
 a boy. But Wardlaw or Graham, girl or 
 boy, she got plenty of love and care, 
 and she grew up a healthy happy bairn 
 enough. 
 
 Then came the question of education. 
 Miss Lizzie, as the most accomplished of 
 the sisters — she played and sang in a 
 sweet little way, and had a fair knowledge 
 of French — took her in hand, and taught 
 her all she knew. But the child was 
 quick and soon got beyond her aunt, and 
 the sisters had to take serious counsel 
 together as to the next step. A school in 
 Dunfechan was the obvious thing ; no
 
 3o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 doubt she would be well taught there, but 
 still — Miss Grace shook her head at the 
 Dunfechan school. She would be the last 
 person to say there was not good teaching 
 to be had in Dunfechan, but one must 
 think of other things too. The Miss 
 Wardlaws themselves had not been edu- 
 cated with tradesmen's daughters ; and 
 Bell was a Graham — Miss Grace never 
 lost sight of that. She loved the child 
 as her sister's bairn, but she did her 
 duty by her as a Graham of Achnahiel. 
 There seemed nothing for it but that Bell 
 should be sent to Edinburgh, and the 
 two aunts disliked the idea of the girl 
 being away beyond their care as much as 
 they disliked the society in the Dunfechan 
 school. 
 
 It was at this juncture that Mrs. 
 Jamieson came to the rescue. Agnes and 
 Mary Jamieson were to have a French 
 governess, and Mrs. Jamieson graciously
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 informed the Miss Wardlaws, that, if they 
 liked, Bell could come up daily and share 
 her daughters' lessons. If Bell had been 
 a Wardlaw, possibly the offer might not 
 have been made, and the Miss Wardlaws 
 were quite aware of it, although Mrs. 
 Jamieson was always everything that was 
 kind and courteous to her tenants at 
 Nether Kintocher. Still this was some- 
 thing more than kind and courteous, and 
 Miss Grace said so, with what was for 
 her unaccustomed warmth, when she had 
 taken her way up to the " big hoose " to 
 speak to Mrs. Jamieson on the subject. 
 Bell, as a Graham of Achnahiel, certainly 
 had a right to a higher peg in the social 
 scale than any Jamieson of Kintocher ; 
 for the Jamiesons were but new people, 
 when all was said and done. But then 
 Bell was a Graham unacknowledged by 
 Achnahiel ; and this offer of Mrs. Jamie- 
 son's had come just in the very nick of
 
 32 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 time ; so Miss Grace expressed herself 
 with unwonted cordiality and gratitude, 
 before she entered upon the discussion of 
 the pecuniary part of the arrangement, 
 which she was anxious to place upon a 
 satisfactory basis. She insisted on paying 
 a far larger share of Mademoiselle's hand- 
 some salary than Mrs. Jamieson had 
 intended, but Miss Grace was not going 
 to be beholden to anyone — from a mone- 
 tary point of view — for her niece's edu- 
 cation. 
 
 The educational advantages were not 
 all on Bell's side. She was infinitely 
 quicker and cleverer than Aggie and 
 Mary Jamieson, and she spurred them on 
 to exertions they would never otherwise 
 have dreamed of. They were both nice 
 pleasant girls, but of ordinary abilities, and 
 with no idea of learning more than they 
 could help. Bell's energy, however, in- 
 fected them to a certain extent, and they
 
 . A SCOTS THISTLE. 33 
 
 did far better than they would have, if left 
 to go on at their own natural jog-trot. 
 They were fond of Bell, and Bell was fond 
 of them ; and she got on very well with 
 Mademoiselle, too, although they had oc- 
 casional differences of opinion, for Made- 
 moiselle was quick-tempered, and Bell had 
 views of her own on some subjects. 
 
 In English literature she educated her- 
 self. The Miss Wardlaws had preserved 
 their father's library intact, and it was a col- 
 lection which was more than respectable, 
 comprising nearly all the classic literature of 
 England. Dr. Wardlaw had been a man 
 of refined and cultivated tastes. If a kind 
 fate had ordained him to a professorship 
 in one of the Universities, his name might 
 have been known to fame ; but he had 
 somehow stumbled into the medical pro- 
 fession, and as a family physician he never 
 got beyond mediocrity. It was her grand- 
 father's library that was really Bell's chief 
 vol. 1. 3
 
 34 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 education. She read a good many books 
 not usually considered pabulum for young 
 ladies, but they did her no harm. Miss 
 Grace had no very extensive acquaintance 
 with her father's library, or she would pro- 
 bably have banned a good many more 
 books than she did. The good lady picked 
 out Smollett and Byron, deposited them 
 behind some pamphlets on the upper shelf, 
 and thought she had done her duty. She 
 looked askance at Shakspere, too, it is 
 true ; but girls were expected to have some 
 acquaintance with his plays, so she left it. 
 
 "And, after all, Lizzie," she observed 
 to her sister, "there are parts in the Bible 
 itself that you would not just say were 
 by-ordinary suitable reading for a young 
 person." 
 
 Of course, Bell found the Smollett and 
 the Byron, and, equally of course, finding 
 them in such a suspicious position, read 
 them promptly. Miss Grace discovered
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 35 
 
 her, but too late, for by that time " Don 
 Juan " had been devoured to the last 
 canto. 
 
 "If you had told me not to read them, 
 Aunt Grace," said Bell, " I wouldn't have 
 done it. But, you know, you never did." 
 
 Which was quite true, and so Miss 
 Grace held her peace. 
 
 It was from stumbling across some of 
 the Latin classics in her grandfather's col- 
 lection that Bell became consumed with a 
 desire to learn Latin. Mademoiselle did 
 not teach that language ; but Bell's wish 
 came to the ears of old Mr. Syme, the 
 Free Church minister, and he volunteered 
 to devote an hour or two a week to seeing 
 her through her declensions. 
 
 The Miss Wardlaws did not "sit 
 under" Mr. Syme, as they were Established 
 Church people, and attended the ministra- 
 tions of young Mr. Wilson at the Parish 
 Church. But they were on the most
 
 36 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 friendly terms with Mr. Syme, and shared 
 in the respect and affection with which the 
 whole parish of Kintocher regarded him. 
 He had been in Kintocher for nearly fifty 
 years, coming there first as minister of the 
 Established Church ; but when the Dis- 
 ruption of '43 took place he left the Manse, 
 and he, and those of the congregation who 
 seceded with him, went over to a tiny 
 church which they built on the south side 
 of the village. He never cherished any 
 bitterness against the Auld Kirk — indeed, 
 there were those who said he would not 
 be sorry to be back within her pale 
 again — and that ill-feeling between Free 
 and Established, which has occasionally 
 disgraced some Scottish parishes, was quite 
 unknown in Kintocher. He was too large- 
 hearted and large-minded, perhaps, also too 
 well-educated and slyly humorous, to be 
 popular with the bitter Frees, who look at 
 denomination first and religion afterwards ;
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 37 
 
 but even they could not but respect his 
 sterling worth, and the unwearied devotion 
 which he gave to his work, both in the 
 parish and in the Synod. 
 
 He saw Bell through more than her 
 declensions, for they went through Virgil 
 and Horace together. They read Paley, 
 and sundry theologians, too, some remark 
 of Bell's taking them on to that ground. 
 The books were old-fashioned and behind 
 the age, no doubt, but they educated the 
 girl's thinking powers, for all that. So, I 
 think I am scarcely wrong in saying that 
 for her real education Bell had to thank, 
 not Mrs. Jamieson and Mademoiselle, but 
 her grandfather's library and Mr. Syme. 
 
 When Bell was about fifteen, the first 
 recognition of her existence that had come 
 from Achnahiel since her babyhood was 
 manifested. She received a letter from her 
 grandmother asking her to pay a visit in 
 the north. What called forth the letter
 
 3% A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 it might be hard to decide, but I think 
 Mrs. Graham's heart had always been sore 
 for the bonnie son with whom she parted 
 in anger, and never saw again ; and per- 
 haps all these years, though too proud to 
 confess it, she had been yearning for a 
 sight of the child he left behind him. A 
 girl, too. She had never had a daughter of 
 her own ; and her eldest son, Colonel Angus 
 Graham, who had married, to everybody's 
 satisfaction, a daughter of the Earl of 
 Glenelg, had also only given hostages to 
 fortune in the shape of two sons. She had 
 never had a girl to pet, to dress up in pretty 
 things and take about with her. All this 
 may have had something to do with the 
 invitation that came to Bell, but, at all 
 events, come it did, and created no little 
 excitement at Nether Kintocher. 
 
 She was to go ; that was settled at once. 
 She was a Graham, and she ought to know 
 Achnahiel ; she ought to be friends with her
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 39 
 
 father's people, it was but right : the only 
 thing to be regretted was that such an 
 invitation now came for the first time. So 
 said Miss Grace. 
 
 But when the two aunts stood upon the 
 platform at Stirling station, whither they had 
 insisted on convoying Bell from Dunfechan, 
 and saw the train for the north steam out of 
 the station, they felt a little sinking of the 
 heart. Maybe the bairn would not come 
 back to them just the same ; Nether Kin- 
 tocher would be but a small place after 
 Achnahiel ; her aunts would seem plain 
 people after all the glories of the Grahams. 
 
 They need not have troubled themselves. 
 Bell came back to them as she went, and 
 considerably sooner than was expected. 
 
 She reached Achnahiel in safety, and one 
 look of her decided the welcome she was to 
 get. She was as much a Graham as any of 
 them — a blue-eyed, yellow-haired Graham. 
 They might call it red, if they liked, at Kin-
 
 40 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 tocher, it was yellow up at Achnahiel. The 
 trail of the serpent, otherwise of the Ward- 
 laws, was not over her at all, and it was with 
 unaffected delight — and, perhaps, also relief — 
 that Mrs. Graham took her granddaughter in 
 her arms. Bell, on her side, was equally 
 pleased to find herself possessed of a hand- 
 some grandmother and a distinguished- 
 looking grandfather, and her heart went out 
 to her father's people, of whom she had 
 hitherto known so little. 
 
 She was not shy, and they were soon on 
 the best of terms. Mrs. Graham discovered 
 her granddaughter was a lady, a well- 
 educated one, and her satisfaction was 
 complete. Bell was made free of Achnahiel 
 and roamed about the place, making the 
 acquaintance of everything and everybody 
 her father had known. It was of him she 
 chiefly wanted to hear ; her aunts could tell 
 her so little about him, only just that little 
 bit of his life where it crossed and joined
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 with Izobel's. She made friends with the 
 old housekeeper, Mrs. Lindsay, who had 
 been in the service of the Grahams since 
 she came as a lass from the Lowlands. 
 
 " Eh ! but you've gotten your faither's 
 twa bonnie een, Miss Graham," she would 
 say, looking at the girl with a pleasant 
 motherly smile, " and his gowden hair. Ou, 
 ay, a' the Grahams hae blue een and gowden 
 hair, but Maister Willie's were the bluest een 
 o' them a, and his hair was the purest gowd 
 — and yours is just the same, my bonnie 
 leddy. Ay, I mind your faither weel." 
 
 And then she would launch out into 
 almost endless reminiscences, pleased, as she 
 might well be, with such an untiring listener. 
 
 From her grandmother, too, Bell heard 
 tales of her father's boyhood ; and also 
 many a gallant story of Grahams dead and 
 gone, which thrilled the girl's heart with 
 pleasure to think that she, too, came of this 
 good stock. She seemed so like a Graham
 
 42 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 in every way, that they almost grew to forget 
 she was not one in entirety ; and, perhaps, 
 this helped to produce the catastrophe with 
 which her visit concluded. Mrs. Graham 
 had never really forgiven Izobel Wardlaw 
 for marrying her son ; indeed, time, instead 
 of softening, had rather increased her re- 
 sentment, and it almost seemed that by some 
 intricate feminine reasoning she had ended 
 by mixing up Izobel and the shark, and per- 
 suaded herself that Willie's tragic end was 
 due to the agency of the girl who would 
 have given more than her life for him. 
 
 So it chanced one day as Bell and her 
 grandmother were sitting amicably in the 
 morning-room, chatting, as they often did, of 
 Willie's young days, that Mrs. Graham 
 strayed on to the subject of his marriage, 
 and the Wardlaws. She had avoided it 
 hitherto, for Mrs. Graham, of Achna- 
 hiel, whatever her faults, was a lady, and 
 would not deliberately have disparaged
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 a mother to her daughter, though that 
 mother had been guilty of the seven 
 deadly sins. But, as I have said, by this 
 time she looked upon Bell entirely in the 
 light of a Graham, and for the moment had 
 really forgotten that Willie's wife bore any 
 relation to Willie's child. So she said her 
 say bitterly of Izobel and her sisters, and 
 the marriage into which they had " duped " 
 her son. It was not till she saw Bell 
 standing before her, white, and with 
 flaming eyes, that she realized what she 
 had done. 
 
 ''Grandmother," said the girl, "what you 
 said just now is a lie. My mother was a 
 lady, and my aunts are good women, as 
 proud in their own way as you. I will not 
 stop under a roof where my mothers memory 
 is insulted." 
 
 And then she left the room with the air 
 of a tragedy queen, and went to pack up her 
 clothes.
 
 44 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 When Mrs. Graham found what she had 
 done, I think, she was filled with consterna- 
 tion, and was almost ready to apologize. 
 But to apologize to her own granddaughter 
 — and particularly when that granddaughter 
 had just accused her of untruth in the very 
 plainest language — clearly it was impossible. 
 Had Mr. Graham been at home some com- 
 promise might have been effected, but, un- 
 fortunately, he was away somewhere on the 
 other side of the Achnahiel deer-forest. 
 Old Mrs. Lindsay went up to Miss Graham's 
 room, and vainly tried to pour oil on the 
 troubled waters, but the girl was inflexible. 
 If her grandmother liked to apologize for 
 the way she had spoken of her mother, 
 good and well — she would consent to over- 
 look what had occurred, and stay ; if not, 
 she was going to catch the afternoon train 
 home. But at the suggestion of Mrs. 
 Graham apologizing, Mrs. Lindsay wrung 
 her hands ; if that was the only condition
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 45 
 
 on which Miss Bell would remain, she might 
 just as well go on with her packing. And 
 so Bell Graham arrived at Nether Kintocher 
 that evening in a Dunfechan fly, consider- 
 ably to her aunts' consternation. 
 
 " Eh, it's her faither ower again," said 
 Mrs. Lindsay, as she stood in Bell's deserted 
 bedroom at Achnahiel, and wiped away a 
 tear. " It's no just his bonnie face that 
 she's gotten — there's the spirit of him as 
 weel. It's a sair thing when Grahams fa' 
 oot thegither ; they're that prood and 
 camstrairy ; and they'll dee with their hairts 
 breakin' or ever they'll say ' I was wrang.' 
 Wae's me ! I was lookin' for yon bonnie 
 doo comin' aboot the hoose, maybe bidin' 
 a' thegither, and noo here's an end." 
 
 And so, indeed, it seemed, for no further 
 invitation to Achnahiel came to Bell- But 
 she was not quite ignored, for from that 
 time a handsome present always reached her 
 on New Year's Day, for which, at her
 
 46 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 aunt's directions, she as regularly sent her 
 thanks in " a nice letter." 
 
 When Bell was about eighteen. 
 Mademoiselle finally left Kintocher, and 
 Mrs. Jamieson took Aggie and Mary up to 
 London for " finishing masters." Bell was 
 supposed to have got as much finish as was 
 necessary, considering she had again been 
 dropped by Achnahiel. The Miss Ward- 
 laws, however, did not themselves see why 
 the Miss Jamiesons should have more 
 advantages than their niece, and they took 
 counsel together, which resulted in the — to 
 Kintocher — almost alarming decision that 
 they would spend a winter in Edinburgh ; 
 during which time Bell was to receive in- 
 struction in singing, dancing, and painting. 
 
 " I am not denying it will be an expense, 
 Lizzie," said Miss Grace, " but we owe it 
 to the bairn." 
 
 In which opinion Miss Lizzie quite 
 coincided.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 4 7 
 
 So they went, and Bell made full use of 
 the opportunities afforded her. Her aunts 
 were very satisfied with her, and also with 
 her accent, about which they were as 
 anxious as Scots ladies of the middle class 
 generally are. They had always had the 
 fear upon them that Bell might acquire the 
 Dunfechan drawl. She had avoided it, 
 however, and spoke extremely well ; 
 better, indeed, than the Miss Jamiesons, 
 which occasionally rather annoyed their 
 mother. The trace of accent which re- 
 mained about Bell was that caressing 
 touch, which smoothes the angles of words 
 and rounds their corners — it is frequently 
 pronounced pretty by English people, 
 however much hypercritical Scots them- 
 selves may condemn it. 
 
 When the girls were " finished," the 
 Miss Jamiesons " came out," which orave 
 rise to another consultation between Miss 
 Grace and Miss Lizzie. Would they take
 
 48 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Bell to an Edinburgh Assembly, or not ? 
 They had taken Izobel to one, and that, as 
 it happened, was where she met Willie 
 Graham. It was a strong argument against 
 repeating the experiment, and both ladies 
 shrank from it. Miss Grace had a happy 
 inspiration. 
 
 " We'll just take her to the Dunfechan 
 Hunt Ball," said she. " I'm told it was 
 very good last year ; and Bell would be 
 among kenned folk, and maybe Mrs. 
 Jamieson would introduce her to the Earl." 
 
 " The Earl ought to be glad enough to 
 be introduced to her, and she a Graham," 
 said Miss Lizzie ; " she should be presented 
 at Court, by rights, Grace." 
 
 "If we all had what we ought to by 
 rights, queer things would happen," said 
 Miss Grace, with a short laugh. 
 
 So Bell went to the Dunfechan Hunt 
 Ball in the custody of her aunts ; and a 
 very good ball it was, so the Miss Jamiesons
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 49 
 
 said. Dick's regiment happened to be 
 quartered in Edinburgh at the time, and he 
 came over with a strong detachment of the 
 Alastair Highlanders for the occasion ; and 
 the Miss Jamiesons, being young ladies 
 who doted on the military in the most 
 unaffected manner, were perfectly happy. 
 Bell, also, had her share of the gallant 
 Highlanders, besides being introduced to 
 "the Earl," as Miss Grace had suggested; 
 and, altogether, she found her first ball, 
 though it only took place in the Dunfechan 
 Music Hall, a very pleasant affair. 
 
 So now Bell Graham was " finished " 
 and "out," and her aunts heaved relieved 
 sighs, and, to a certain extent, rested from 
 their labours. 
 
 vol. 1.
 
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 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Men are beasts ! " 
 
 It was rather a strong statement, and 
 it was made by Miss Bell Graham, as 'she 
 stood in the window of the Nether 
 Kintocher drawing-room. 
 
 " My dear, my dear, that's not a way to 
 speak," remonstrated Miss Lizzie. 
 
 " Perhaps it isn't, Aunt Lizzie," returned 
 her niece, "for men are mean, selfish 
 cowards, and beasts are not. I beg the 
 beast's pardon." 
 
 " But, Bell, my dear," said Miss Lizzie 
 gently, "you go to such extremes. You 
 should remember there are men and men. 
 [50
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 "True enough, Lizzie," said Miss Grace, 
 in her short, dry way, " but if a lassie can't 
 take care of herself, she may look long or 
 ever a man will do it for her. And, now," 
 she added, conclusively, "we'll say no more 
 about it. It has not been a subject just 
 suitable for a young person, but it has been 
 in a measure forced upon us. Bell, run and 
 put your things on, or you will not be ready 
 when the cab comes." 
 
 It was no very extraordinary circum- 
 stance that had aroused Bell's wrath ; indeed, 
 ■one that was too ordinary about Kintocher, 
 as in most Scotch agricultural districts. 
 Simply, bonnie Jeannie Morrison, who was in 
 service at Mrs. Mclntyre's up the hill, had 
 "gone wrong," and, as has happened from 
 time immemorial " when lovely woman 
 stoops to folly," the village Don Juan had 
 shirked his responsibilities and gone off 
 scathless, while bonnie Jeannie, weeping and 
 disgraced, was bidden to pack her "kist," 
 
 „>*>»»
 
 52 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 and take herself "awa' hame tae her 
 mither." 
 
 It was the first time that Bell had come 
 into personal contact with this social diffi- 
 culty, and, like any warm-hearted girl, she 
 waxed hotly indignant at the palpable in- 
 equality of the justice meted out to the 
 different sexes, till her Aunt Grace found it 
 convenient to terminate the discussion. 
 
 " From the beginning of the world it's 
 been the same," concluded Bell, with her 
 hand on the handle of the door ; " every- 
 thing has always been put on the woman. 
 It began in the Garden of Eden, when 
 Adam turned round and said it was Eve 
 gave him the apple. I've always despised 
 Adam." 
 
 •'It would have been prettier if he had 
 taken it on himself, certainly," said Miss 
 Grace, shutting up her work-basket ; " al- 
 though, as it happened, he was speaking the 
 truth."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 53 
 
 And then she followed her niece upstairs 
 to array herself for an excursion to Dun- 
 fechan. 
 
 The Miss Wardlaws, not possessing a 
 "machine" of their own, the visits to Dun- 
 fechan were somewhat limited. The butcher 
 and baker stopped at their gate twice a week, 
 but all other shopping had to be done on the 
 state occasions when a cab was specially 
 ordered to convey the family into town, 
 Bell, it is true, being a healthy young crea- 
 ture, sometimes walked the four miles which 
 intervened between Nether Kintocher and 
 Dunfechan, and occasionally she was driven 
 there in the Jamieson's carriage ; but the 
 progress of the entire family was always 
 made in the cab. On these occasions the 
 Miss Wardlaws frequently combined calls 
 on the few families in Dunfechan with whom 
 they were on visiting terms, with the satis- 
 fying of the household wants. They had 
 always entertained doubts as to Dunfechan
 
 54 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 society, and their visiting list was not by any 
 means indiscriminate : its extent being Mrs. 
 Beattie, the doctor's wife ; Miss Seton, the 
 sister of the writer ; and the wife of the 
 "minister of the first charge" of the 
 Abbey. 
 
 The Miss Wardlaws came downstairs 
 attired in their good black silk gowns and 
 neat mantles, and Bell followed a minute 
 later in a striped blue cotton dress, at which 
 her aunts immediately looked askance. 
 
 " Oh, Bell," said Miss Lizzie, with gentle 
 reproach, " we were going to call on Mrs. 
 Beattie, and you in a cotton frock." 
 
 " It's quite nice, Aunt Lizzie," said Miss 
 Graham, with a comprehensive glance at her 
 attire ; " it's my clean one for Monday." 
 
 " It's clean and fresh, but not just suitable 
 for a call," said Miss Grace, who was un- 
 aware that washing costumes were the 
 highest fashion in circles more select than 
 Dunfechan. " Your Sunday cashmere would
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 55 
 
 be more like. Run away back and get 
 it on." 
 
 " Oh ! Aunt Grace, what's the use ? " 
 said Bell, mutinously. "If this isn't good 
 enough for Mrs. Beattie, I needn't go there 
 at all. May I go to the Abbey while you 
 are calling ?" 
 
 To this Miss Grace assented, Miss Lizzie 
 suggesting gently it was a pity she had put 
 on her clean frock if she was going up that 
 dirty Abbey tower ; and Miss Grace remark- 
 ing there was no occasion for her to go up 
 the tower at all, she could just stay below. 
 Whereupon, they all got into the cab and 
 drove away. 
 
 There were many pretty drives in the 
 neighbourhood of Kintocher, but that to 
 Dunfechan was hardly to be numbered 
 amongst them. As a whole, it was uninter- 
 esting, and when the suburbs of Dunfechan, 
 which stretched an inordinate distance 
 beyond the town, were reached, it was un-
 
 56 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 pleasant. The inhabitants of the outskirts 
 were chiefly composed of miners, weavers 
 and factory workers, and their ideas of 
 cleanliness were elementary : one of them 
 apparently being that the gutter was the 
 proper place of deposit for potato peelings, 
 soap-suds, and general superfluities ; while 
 the junior members of the population 
 occupied their spare moments in attempting 
 to make Juggernaut cars of any passing 
 " machine," from the baker's cart to the 
 Countess's landau, a practice which interfered 
 materially with the comfort of any driver 
 possessed of nerves. 
 
 When the town proper was reached 
 things improved. There were some good 
 shops where a patient purchaser could fre- 
 quently obtain what he or she desired, one or 
 two fair public buildings, and at the east 
 end of the town a sprinkling of little villas 
 where resided the aristocracy of Dunfechan. 
 As to the really important features of the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 57 
 
 town — its linen factories, its ancient Abbey, 
 and the ruins of its royal Palace, no Scot at 
 least should need to be reminded of them. 
 
 The Miss Wardlaws dismissed their cab 
 at Miss Stormont's Berlin wool shop, where 
 their first purchases were to be made, giving 
 the driver instructions when and where to be 
 ready for their return ; and then, entering 
 the shop, commenced the afternoon's cam- 
 paign. Miss Grace made an extensive 
 purchase of Alloa yarn ; and Miss Lizzie 
 patiently went through the matching of a 
 long list of finer wools, silks, and crewels ; 
 while Bell, in the background, carefully 
 revolved in her mind the question whether, 
 when they went to Fergusson, the draper's, 
 she might treat herself to a pair of six- 
 button tan Suede gloves for Sundays and 
 best, or whether she ought to content herself 
 with a four-button black pair. The six-button 
 tans carried the day ; although, when she 
 requested Mr. Fergusson to supply her with
 
 5 3 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 them, her Aunt Grace remarked on the 
 unnecessary buttons, and her Aunt Lizzie 
 observed that the light kids of her younger 
 days were much smarter wear. 
 
 Bell followed her aunts while they trans- 
 acted their long list of purchases, which 
 included such opposite articles as a saucepan, 
 a pair of shoes, tape, and buttons, a keg of 
 salt butter, seidlitz powders, stamps, and a 
 bonnet-frame. When the last item on her 
 list was exhausted, Miss Grace adjusted her 
 veil, smoothed her gloves, and, on the prin- 
 ciple of "duty first and pleasure afterwards," 
 having transacted the business of the day, 
 prepared to call on Mrs. Beattie. 
 
 " Now, Bell," said she, "you may run 
 away down to the Abbey ; and mind you are 
 back at Miss Stormont's at four o'clock, 
 ready for the cab." 
 
 " And, Bell, my dear," said Miss Lizzie, 
 with a last anxious warning, " mind and not 
 spoil your clean frock going up the tower."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 59 
 
 " Oh, no, I won't spoil it," said Bell, 
 airily, and she set off at a brisk pace down 
 the steep street that led to the Abbey. 
 
 Dunfechan Abbey had in its time suffered 
 from two destructive forces — first, from the 
 blind fury of the Reformation, and after- 
 wards, in the beginning of the present 
 century, still more irreparably from " res- 
 toration." Of all the crimes that have been 
 committed in the name of the latter, the new 
 part of Dunfechan Abbey, now used as a 
 place of worship by the Established Church 
 of Scotland, is, perhaps, the greatest ; it not 
 only affects anyone who enters the church, 
 but rasps up the sensibilities of all who 
 regard it from the exterior. 
 
 Fortunately, the nave of the old church 
 remains intact, and it was this that Bell 
 now entered, and began idly to wander up 
 and down, sometimes pausing to examine an 
 inscription or gaze at one of the ancient 
 pillars. Finally, she fell into a fit of medi-
 
 60 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 tation opposite a couple of stone coffins, 
 which had once contained princes of the 
 blood royal, until she was roused by a voice 
 behind her. 
 
 " Are ye for up the tower the day ? " 
 
 It was the guide and custodier of the 
 Abbey, with his bunch of keys, addressing 
 her with that apparent absence of deference 
 and respect peculiar to the Scot. 
 
 Bell considered her clean gown doubt- 
 fully, and reflected on her aunt's ad- 
 monitions. 
 
 11 However," she concluded, " as long as 
 I keep it clean, it doesn't matter, for I never 
 promised anything more than that. Yes," 
 she said, aloud, " I think I will go up if you 
 will please unlock the door for me." 
 
 The old man unlocked a door in the 
 wall at the west end of the church, and Bell 
 commenced the ascent of a steep wooden 
 ladder-staircase. She paused when she 
 reached the top, and carefully turned the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE, 61 
 
 skirt of her gown, outside in, over her 
 shoulders ; then, bending her head, she 
 scrambled through a narrow stone passage 
 only just wide enough to let her pass, and 
 emerged on the other side in the Nun's 
 Gallery, a long wide stone corridor on the 
 north side of the church. There was a 
 corresponding one on the south side, but 
 the passage by which it had been formerly 
 reached was now broken down, as was also 
 the railing, or whatever barrier had existed, 
 in front of either gallery, so that there was 
 nothing to prevent visitors from falling over 
 when taking a bird's-eye view of the nave. 
 Most people, after a single glance, turned 
 away with a shudder ; but Bell had a very 
 steady head, and, resting a hand on the side 
 of an arch, she stood close to the edge, 
 gazing down in a way that would have made 
 her aunts' blood run cold had they seen 
 her. 
 
 She was roused from the vague medita-
 
 62 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 tion into which she had fallen by the distant 
 sound of voices below, and turning her eyes 
 to a different portion of the building, she 
 saw her friend with the keys evidently 
 delivering the correct history of the stone 
 coffins to a man in a grey tweed suit who 
 stood beside him. 
 
 "Tourist," concluded Bell, carelessly, 
 when her quick eyes had assured her he 
 was no native of Dunfechan or neigh- 
 bourhood ; and then she turned away, and, 
 passing through a low doorway at the 
 back of the gallery, began to climb the 
 narrow turret-stair which led up the tower. 
 
 It was here that care of her dress 
 became necessary. The walls were very 
 narrow, and thickly coated with dust, but 
 Bell, having her skirt outside in, and tucked 
 closely round her, began her ascent with a 
 care which might have satisfied even her 
 Aunt Lizzie. She had only climbed a few 
 steps when she found one of them had
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 63 
 
 worn, or partly broken away since her last 
 visit. The stair was almost in total dark- 
 ness here, and she made a mental note of 
 the place to avoid tripping on her return ; 
 then steadily pursued her winding way 
 until she reached the summit of the tower. 
 Fortunately, it was a clear day, so she had 
 not toiled up a hundred feet of stairs in 
 vain, or merely to have a circumscribed 
 view of Dunfechan factory chimneys. 
 Sitting down, she rested placidly, and took 
 in the lovely view, extending from Edin- 
 burgh and Arthur's Seat on the east, to 
 Ben Lomond on the west, with between in 
 the middle distance the silver Forth. 
 
 The view was altogether so satisfying 
 and soothing, that she quite forgot the 
 flight of time, till, with a start, she suddenly 
 drew out her watch, and found it wanted 
 only ten minutes of the hour appointed 
 for the rendezvous at Miss Stormont's. 
 Hastily jumping up, she commenced a
 
 64 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 rapid descent, not taking by any means such 
 care of the clean frock as on the way up, 
 and totally forgetting the broken step near 
 the bottom. The consequence of which 
 was that when she reached it, scrambling 
 down in reckless haste, she stumbled and 
 fell forward, only not rolling in a heap to 
 the bottom, because she came up against 
 some opposing substance softer than the 
 wall. 
 
 " Hallo ! look out ! Where are you 
 coming to ? " said a male voice. And then 
 she was picked up by the arms, and set 
 down at the bottom of the stairs in the 
 light, where the opposing substance resolved 
 itself into the man in the grey tweed suit. 
 
 Now, it was clearly not his fault that 
 she had fallen, nor that she had thereby 
 irredeemably dirtied her dress, and un- 
 comfortably twisted her ankle ; so why she 
 should have immediately conceived a feeling 
 of resentment towards him, and, on realizing
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 65 
 
 the southern accent in which he uttered his 
 first words of unconventional greeting, have 
 added an adjective to her former definition, 
 and labelled him, "Cockney tourist," I 
 cannot tell. 
 
 " I hope you are not hurt," he said, 
 looking at her as she stood, partly leaning 
 against the wall of the gallery, trying in a 
 vicious way to shake the pain out of her 
 ankle. 
 
 " No, thank you, not much," said Miss 
 Graham, shortly. 
 
 " I am afraid there is nothing you can 
 sit on," he said, gazing comprehensively 
 along the gallery, which certainly contained 
 nothing beyond the dust of ages. 
 
 " Thank you, I only wish to stand still 
 for a minute till my foot is better, and then 
 I shall be able to go on." 
 
 Miss Graham's views as to the treatment 
 of a twisted ankle were apparently identical 
 with those she might have adopted had it 
 vol. 1. 5
 
 66 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 been a case of " pins and needles," and 
 included the stamping and twisting of the 
 offending foot. Her companion stood 
 looking at her in silence ; his assistance was 
 evidently not desired, but he could hardly 
 leave a lady, who might be suffering from a 
 sprained ankle, alone at this altitude, and 
 with a steep ladder-stair between her and 
 help. 
 
 He was a tall, well-made man of perhaps 
 thirty, carelessly dressed — although even Bell 
 could tell the cut of the tweed coat was 
 something Dunfechan might sigh for in vain. 
 His hair and moustache were fairish, his nose 
 good, his mouth decided, with a certain 
 satirical curve at the corners, and a pair of 
 remarkably keen dark grey eyes completed 
 the inventory which Bell — apparently occu- 
 pied in studying the opposite Nun's Gallery 
 — took of his appearance. 
 
 Perhaps it was the cut of his coat which 
 made her alter her contemptuous verdict of
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 67 
 
 " Cockney tourist " to an equally disdainful 
 one of "army man," when she had completed 
 her unseen survey. She had had a pretty 
 fair experience of the different branches of 
 the Service, as when Dick Jamieson was at 
 home there was generally a contingent of 
 officers at Kintocher. There were often plea- 
 sant fellows enough amongst them, so why 
 the same amount of contempt should have 
 been aroused in her breast by this last classifi- 
 cation of the stranger as by the former, I know 
 not, unless it proceeded from a spirit of oppo- 
 sition produced by the unaffected and avowed 
 preference of the Miss Jamiesons for soldiers. 
 
 "Army man," pursued Bell, mentally, 
 " come over from Edinburgh to kill time by 
 inspecting antiquities about which he knows 
 nothing, and cares less." 
 
 Here she interposed an impatient 
 wriggle of her foot, and took another in- 
 visible inspection. 
 
 " Captain, I suppose ; at least, he looks
 
 68 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 old enough. Yes, certainly, he ought to 
 have his company. I wonder what regiment 
 he's in. Marching ? No," still more dis- 
 dainfully — " mounted. There's the regular 
 cavalry swagger about him. I daresay he 
 belongs to that hussar regiment Aggie was 
 saying had come to Edinburgh the other 
 day." 
 
 Bang, bang, bang ! went Bell's foot on 
 the crumbling stones. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the supposed 
 captain of hussars, " but if your foot is at all 
 strained, I don't think that is quite a good 
 way to treat it. May I go and fetch some- 
 one to help you ? " 
 
 " Thank you ; I won't trouble you," said 
 Bell, in her most stand-off tone — cavalry 
 required to be taught its place. " My foot is 
 better, and I am able to go on. Pray, don't 
 let me detain you " 
 
 " I should be very glad if I could be of 
 any use," said the gentleman, politely.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 69 
 
 "You are very kind," said Bell, loftily, 
 preparing to go. 
 
 " I was just going up this stair when you 
 — came down," pursued the stranger, per 
 fectly unsnubbed ; " can you tell me what I 
 shall come to ? " 
 
 Now, this was going too far, for it flashed 
 across Miss Graham's mind that he had in- 
 vented this remark simply for the purpose of 
 detaining her ; and, indeed, she was nearer 
 the truth in this surmise than in some of her 
 previous ones. 
 
 "If you go up the stair," said she, in a 
 cutting tone, "and keep on long enough, you 
 will come to — the top ! " 
 
 And, bestowing a bow of distant defiance, 
 she very literally swept through the narrow 
 passage, with the cotton frock going to utter 
 destruction on the dusty walls ; but, then, 
 who could have made a dignified exit with a 
 turned-up skirt ? 
 
 It was, perhaps, as well she could not see
 
 7 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 behind, for the satirical corners of her 
 enemy's mouth resolved themselves into an 
 unmistakable grin as he watched her vanish 
 through the passage. 
 
 "What a little Scots thistle!" he said, 
 half aloud, and, turning on his heel, began to 
 climb the tower. 
 
 Bell's foot was certainly uncomfortable as 
 she hurried along the streets back to Miss 
 Stormont's, but obviously it was not sprained 
 or seriously injured, as in that case she could 
 hardly have kept up the pace she did. At 
 the end of the High Street she discovered 
 by the clock on the Municipal Buildings that 
 it was already past four, so she put on 
 another spurt, and by the time she reached 
 the appointed place was almost panting. 
 Here, however, she found that, though her 
 aunts and the cab were waiting, they were 
 not quite in the state of impatience she 
 expected. 
 
 The cab was drawn up opposite Miss
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 71 
 
 Stormont's, and on the other side of the 
 street at Miss McPherson, the stationer's, 
 stood the Jamieson's carriage, while in front 
 of Miss McPherson's window Mrs. Jamie- 
 son and the Miss Wardlaws were affably 
 conversing. Aggie and Mary Jamieson 
 darted out of the shop and pounced on Bell 
 when she appeared. 
 
 " Bell, what's come over you ? We 
 haven't seen you since Friday," began 
 Mary. 
 
 " Bell, you're to come up and spend to- 
 morrow evening," went on Aggie. " Mr. 
 Maxwell is coming, and Christian and Alick 
 Laurie " 
 
 " And Mr. Wilson is coming, too," they 
 concluded, both together. 
 
 " I suppose I can go," said Bell, looking 
 at her aunts. 
 
 " I have just been asking Miss Wardlaw 
 and Miss Lizzie if they won't come too," 
 said Mrs. Jamieson, amiably.
 
 72 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 "Thank you," said Miss Grace; "you 
 are very kind ; but Lizzie and I have some 
 work we want to get finished, so if you will 
 excuse us, Bell can walk up herself, and 
 we'll send Janet when it is time for her to 
 be coming away home." 
 
 The Miss Wardlaws knew perfectly 
 well that, although Mrs. Jamieson always 
 politely included them in the invitations to 
 spend an evening, which the Miss Jamiesons 
 constantly bestowed upon Bell, they were 
 not particularly desired to accept them. 
 Aggie and Mary could have their young 
 friends when they liked : they could amuse 
 them themselves ; but the entertaining of 
 the two spinster ladies would have fallen on 
 Mrs. Jamieson, and been a bother. Miss 
 Grace was perfectly aware that was the 
 light in which their accepting these casual 
 invitations would have been looked at, and 
 consistently declined them. About twice a 
 year, when they received formal invitations
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 73 
 
 to dinner, they accepted, knowing also that 
 on these occasions Mrs. Jamieson had 
 wound herself up to do her duty, and would 
 have been annoyed if her neighbours at 
 Nether Kintocher had not allowed her the 
 opportunity to " get them over," and so clear 
 her conscience. 
 
 11 I suppose we must let you off, if you 
 are really busy," said Mrs. Jamieson, in her 
 most gracious way ; " but you need not 
 trouble to send the servant for Bell ; Mr. 
 Wilson is coming up, and, no doubt, will be 
 delighted to see her home." 
 
 " No doubt," said Miss Wardlaw, stiffly ; 
 41 but Janet will just go up for Bell at the 
 usual time/' 
 
 And then she said good-bye, and carried 
 her sister and niece off to the cab with a 
 slight access of dignity. 
 
 Miss Wardlaw and Mrs. Jamieson both 
 had views on the subject of Mr. Wilson, the 
 parish minister of Kintocher. Mrs. Jamie-
 
 74 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 son's were that it would be a great advantage 
 to Kintocher if he were married, and an 
 excellent thing for Bell if she were the 
 mistress of the Manse. Miss Grace's were 
 that, in spite of his black coat, his M.A., 
 and the undoubted halo of respectability 
 which the Manse diffused around him, he 
 was sprung from "the people," and that any 
 aspirations on his part to the hand of Miss 
 Graham would be audacity. Miss Lizzie 
 quite coincided with her sister, and, in- 
 deed, in the depth of her own breast she 
 nourished a little pet project about Bell 
 and Dick Jamieson — a project which, if 
 known to his mother, would have aroused as 
 much opposition on her part as that lady's 
 respecting Mr. Wilson did on the part of 
 Miss Grace. 
 
 " Good-bye, Bell, mind you come early,'' 
 cried Mary Jamieson, running after her. 
 
 " And, oh, Bell," chimed in Aggie, " we 
 forgot to tell you, we've got a new "
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 15 
 
 But the rest of the sentence was lost 
 in the crack of the driver's whip and the 
 rumble of the wheels on the rather ob- 
 trusive paving-stones of Dunfechan as 
 the cab started on its return to Kintocher.
 
 
 
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 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Bell's foot had recovered next day, and 
 
 she was able to keep her appointment, and 
 
 walk up to Kintocher House in the evening 
 
 without any discomfort. She was early, 
 
 but she saw Alick and Christian Laurie 
 
 turn in at the lodge gates in their dog-cart 
 
 before she reached it. They were the son 
 
 and daughter of the Jamiesons' nearest 
 
 neighbours on the north side. Alick was 
 
 an advocate, and for the most part lived in 
 
 Edinburgh, but happened to be at home on 
 
 a short visit. His sister, Christian, was 
 
 rather older than he — a plain girl, with 
 
 brusque manners, chiefly the result of 
 [76]
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 77 
 
 shyness, in consequence of which she was, 
 perhaps, not personally so popular as from 
 her real goodness of heart she deserved to 
 be. 
 
 The Lauries were in the drawing-room 
 when Bell entered ; as was also Mr. 
 Maxwell, the young laird, whose lands 
 marched with those of Kintocher on the 
 south, and who had, by the common consent 
 of the county, been assigned as Aggie 
 Jamieson's future fate. 
 
 There was one other person present 
 besides the family — a gentleman, who was 
 standing looking out of the window, but 
 who turned when Bell had shaken hands all 
 round, and Mrs. Jamieson said — 
 
 11 Mr. Royston, I want to introduce 
 you to our young friend, Miss Graham." 
 
 Whereupon, he faced Bell and bowed ; 
 and she recognized, with a start, her friend 
 of the day before, the man in the grey 
 tweed suit — only now he was clad in
 
 7 8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 immaculate evening dress. It was the 
 stiffest little bow in her repertory that Bell . 
 favoured him with, and there was some- 
 thing very like a twinkle in his eyes, as he 
 said gravely and politely — 
 
 " I think I have had the pleasure of 
 meeting Miss Graham before — yesterday in 
 Dunfechan Abbey." 
 
 " Yes," said Bell, briefly. 
 " I hope your foot is all right now," he 
 continued, easily. 
 
 " Yes, thank you, it is quite right," said 
 Bell, and then, turning to the Jamiesons, 
 explained, " I fell down the Abbey tower 
 stairs, and — met this gentleman." 
 
 He might have corrected this statement 
 to " fell up against me," and the twinkle in 
 his eyes became more unmistakable, 
 although the rest of his face was as grave 
 as ever. 
 
 " I ascended the tower after you left 
 yesterday, Miss Graham," he said, in a
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 79 
 
 quiet tone to Bell, when Mrs. Jamieson 
 turned to address a remark to Mr. Maxwell, 
 " and I found you were quite correct ; I 
 came to — the top." 
 
 Bell was not by any means devoid of 
 humour, and an involuntary desire to laugh 
 seized her, and struggled with the indigna- 
 tion which this self-possessed carrying of 
 the war into the enemy's country roused 
 within her. There was certainly no doubt, 
 now he belonged to that hussar regiment 
 — he united cavalry cheek to the cavalry 
 swagger she had detected yesterday ; and 
 she was not going to let him have the 
 satisfaction of seeing she in the least 
 appreciated his audacity. So she simply 
 left his remark unacknowledged, and 
 walked off to the other end of the room, 
 where Mary Jamieson was sitting. 
 
 " Isn't it a piece of luck our raising a 
 whole man all by ourselves when Dick is 
 away ? " began that young lady at once.
 
 So A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I was going to tell you about him 
 yesterday, but you drove off before I 
 could. Do you remember about him? 
 He's the man who saved Dick's life out in 
 Ooranistan." 
 
 Bell had a general recollection of the 
 incident, but Mary went on. 
 
 " Dick was riding out beyond the camp 
 in the evening, you know, and one of 
 these horrid natives was preparing to shoot 
 him from some hiding-place, where Dick 
 didn't see him ; but, by good luck, Mr. 
 Royston came up behind the native, who 
 didn't see him, and just as the horrid 
 wretch was going to pot Dick, Mr. Royston 
 whipped ' out his revolver and potted the 
 native." 
 
 "Did he kill him?" 
 
 " I imagine ' subsequent proceedings 
 interested him no more,'" said Mary, 
 airily ; " wasn't it jolly of him ? " 
 
 " Who ? The native ? " inquired Bell.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 81 
 
 " Now, Bell, don't be aggravating. Of 
 course, you know I mean Mr. Royston." 
 
 " I don't see that he could have done 
 much less," said Bell, coolly. " I suppose 
 an average Englishman would not stand by 
 and look on while another was shot ; and 
 he wasn't endangering himself either." 
 
 " Bell, I should like to punch your 
 head," said Mary, laughing ; "I wanted 
 you to admire our hero, and you won't." 
 
 " How does he come to be here ?" asked 
 Bell. 
 
 "He is travelling in Scotland, and had 
 put up at Dunfechan for a couple of days to 
 do the neighbourhood. Of course, Dick 
 had told him if he was ever hereabouts he 
 was to go to Kintocher, so he called ; 
 mamma promptly said he was to stay, sent in 
 for his traps, and here he is. She takes a 
 rather different view of his saving Dick's 
 life to what you do, Bell," said Mary, in a 
 slightly aggrieved tone. " I thought he 
 vol. i. 6
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 was your style, too — clever, and rather 
 sarcastic and self-restrained. You generally 
 prefer that sort of man." 
 
 " I don't care two straws for self- 
 restraint that has nothing behind it," said 
 Bell, contemptuously, and unconsciously 
 elevating her voice. " What I do respect 
 is a man of strong passions and absolute 
 self-control." 
 
 " Did you ever meet him, Miss 
 Graham ? " said Royston, quietly, at her 
 elbow. 
 
 " I hope I have met several," said Bell, 
 with suppressed indignation. What right 
 had this bothering officer to overhear her 
 conversation, even though it had certainly 
 not been carried on as if it were meant to 
 be specially private ? 
 
 " Absolute self-control," he pursued. 
 " You are sure that his strong passions did 
 not ever ' break at seasons through the 
 gilded pale ? ' "
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. S$ 
 
 "I suppose," said Bell, coldly, "there 
 are some men left in the world ? " 
 
 "Granted," he replied; " I only doubt 
 that absolute self-control of which you 
 spoke. I think with you that the strong 
 passionate nature under proper control is 
 the finest, but I am afraid I do doubt if 
 that passionate nature can be kept always 
 controlled. Sometime in his life I am 
 afraid there would be a slip. Would you 
 not forgive him, Miss Graham ? Your own 
 poet, I think, said, ' To step aside is 
 human.' " 
 
 " Then you don't believe in a man 
 being lord of himself?" said Bell, half- 
 interested, in spite of herself. 
 
 "Yes, I do," he said, quickly, " I despise 
 a man who isn't ; but I don't believe in 
 perfection, and I have my doubts about 
 young ladies' heroes." 
 
 It was an unlucky remark. If there was 
 one thing more than another that aroused
 
 84 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Bell's wrath, it was to be treated as a 
 " young lady," and to have her sentiments 
 and aspirations classed under that heading. 
 She smiled her most withering smile at him. 
 " I suppose you ought to know," she 
 said, " you are one yourself, are you not ? " 
 After which she calmly turned her back 
 on him, and addressed herself to Mary 
 Jamieson, who had been listening, slightly 
 horrified, to the tone Bell had adopted 
 towards their guest. 
 
 At this point Mr. Wilson was an- 
 nounced, which created a diversion. Under 
 cover of the little movement in the room, 
 Bell escaped into a corner beside Christian 
 Laurie, having lately learned from ex- 
 perience that the Jamiesons generally 
 devoted their spare energies to manoeuvring 
 herself and the minister into tete-a-tetes. 
 
 The Rev. James Wilson was a young 
 man with a certain type of good looks, 
 popular amongst the farmers' daughters in
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 85 
 
 the neighbourhood : brown hair, clear com- 
 plexion, and a smile were his most notable 
 characteristics ; and he dressed in a strictly- 
 clerical garb, not always to be seen on the 
 Scots parson. His views were also rather 
 advanced for a Calvinist : he had introduced 
 a harmonium into the Parish Church, 
 conducted funerals with prayer in the 
 churchyard, and had publicly given it as 
 his opinion that marriages should be 
 solemnized in church. These, and other 
 progressive inclinations, had made the older 
 parishioners a little doubtful as to his 
 " soundness " ; but with the younger 
 members of his flock he was as popular as 
 the High Church curate of the Church of 
 England is with the maidens of his fold. 
 He really was a well-meaning young man, 
 and worked his parish energetically, so that, 
 altogether, Mrs. Jamieson was satisfied he 
 would be an eminently suitable match for 
 Bell Graham. It might, perhaps, have
 
 86 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 occurred to her, had he not been a minister, 
 that he was not a gentleman ; but, like 
 many other Scots ladies, she had become 
 accustomed to pass over blemishes in the 
 country clergy, which she would scarcely 
 have tolerated in any other men with whom 
 she associated. 
 
 Music was suggested on Mr. Wilson's 
 arrival, and Aggie and Mary went to the 
 piano, and sang, respectively, M In the 
 Gloaming," and " Some Day," with a good 
 deal of exaggerated pathos. Christian 
 Laurie was asked to play, but excused 
 herself, as she generally did ; and then Mr. 
 Maxwell was appealed to. He had a strong, 
 perfectly untrained bass voice, and bellowed 
 forth, "Wait till the Clouds roll by," to 
 Aggie's accompaniment, and evidently en- 
 tirely to his and her satisfaction. 
 
 " It's your turn now, Bell," said Aggie, 
 jumping up when the performance was 
 over.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 87 
 
 " I didn't bring any music," said Bell, 
 not moving out of her corner. 
 
 "Well, that excuse won't serve you," 
 said Aggie; "you sing lots of our things. 
 Come and find something." 
 
 So Bell unwillingly rose and went over to 
 the music-stand, in the immediate vicinity of 
 which "that man," as she politely christened 
 Royston, happened to be. She dived into a 
 pile of songs, and began hunting for some- 
 thing she knew. 
 
 " Of course, you sing these, Miss Gra- 
 ham," said Royston, politely, putting " Dream 
 Faces," and " Laddie," before her. 
 
 "Being the sort of things you expect all 
 young ladies to sing," said Bell, with an un- 
 mistakable accent on the offensive words he 
 had previously made use of. 
 
 " Don't you think they are pretty ? " he 
 said, quietly. 
 
 " One doesn't always care for things 
 just because they are pretty" returned Miss
 
 88 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Graham, again accentuating an offending 
 word. 
 
 " I think one does, to a certain extent," 
 he said, coolly, " although, if they have no 
 other recommendation, one tires of them 
 soon." 
 
 " Bell can sing very difficult music," said 
 Aggie Jamieson, anxious to show her friend 
 off to the best advantage. " Sing that 
 Italian aria you did the last time you were 
 up, or that song of Rubinstein's. They are 
 somewhere amongst that music, although 
 neither of us sing them." 
 
 " And now, of course, he thinks I 
 wouldn't sing the ballads because I wanted 
 to show off in something difficult," thought 
 Bell, wrathfully ; and she suddenly threw 
 down the music and marched off to the 
 piano. 
 
 " After all, you haven't chosen one," said 
 Aggie. 
 
 " I know this by heart," said Bell, briefly ;
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 89 
 
 and, then, striking a few chords, she tossed 
 back her head and began with a curious air 
 of enjoyment and defiance : — 
 
 " The deil cam' fiddliri through the ioun, 
 
 And danced aw a' wV th' Exciseman, 
 And ilka wife cried, ' Auld Mahoun, 
 
 We wish ye luck d the prize, man. y 
 The deil's awa\ the deil's awa\ 
 
 The deil's awa' wi' th' Exciseman ; 
 He's danced awa\ he's danced awa\ 
 
 He's danced awa' wi' th' Exciseman ! " 
 
 And so on to the end of the song, finish- 
 ing the last line of the refrain in a sort of 
 defiant shout ; then rising, she went back to 
 Christian Laurie. 
 
 Mrs. Jamieson and Mr. Wilson were 
 looking a little scandalized. 
 
 " You know so many pretty songs, Bell," 
 said the former in a tone of slight reproof, 
 " you might have given us one of them." 
 
 " I wasn't in the humour," said Bell, 
 calmly. 
 
 " You hardly know enough Scotch to
 
 9 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 understand it, I daresay," said Christian 
 Laurie to Royston. 
 
 <( I could make a pretty fair shot at most 
 of it," he said, sitting down beside her, " but 
 I should be very grateful if you or Miss 
 Graham would give me a literal translation. 
 I am particularly anxious to improve my 
 knowledge of things Scotch just now." 
 
 " Set him up ! " thought Bell. " Anxious 
 to improve his knowledge of things Scotch, 
 indeed ! One would think he was going to 
 write a book at least." 
 
 And she would not assist by word or look 
 in the translation which Christian Laurie 
 proceeded carefully and gravely to give. A 
 subaltern in a hussar regiment was so likely 
 to have any good end to serve in learning 
 Scotch. Set him up ! And, by the way, he 
 was evidently only a subaltern, after all, and 
 she must have conferred brevet rank on him 
 in the Abbey. Then she began to attend to 
 the conversation going on beside her.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 91 
 
 " Threesome reels, and foursome reels," 
 Royston was saying, " please explain the 
 difference, Miss Laurie." 
 
 11 Oh ! that is very easy," said Christian, 
 with a smile at the Southron ignorance ; " the 
 one is danced by three people, the other by 
 four, that's all. Did you ever see a reel 
 properly danced ? " 
 
 " A reel ! " cried Mary Jamieson, blithely, 
 springing up. " Let's give an illustration 
 now ! 
 
 " Bravo ! " said Alick Laurie, following 
 her lead. " Let us ! " 
 
 And before Royston had quite time to 
 realize what was going to happen, the furni- 
 ture had been pushed aside, and the floor 
 cleared for dancing with a rapidity which 
 argued impromptu dances were not un- 
 common at Kintocher. 
 
 " I'll play," said Christian Laurie going 
 to the piano. 
 
 " No such thing," said Aggie Jamieson,
 
 92 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " mamma must play ; you will be wanted to 
 dance." 
 
 " You can't make up two sets, anyhow," 
 remonstrated Christian. 
 
 " Yes, we can," said Mary, pushing the 
 dancers into their places as she spoke ; "you 
 and I and Alick will dance a threesome, and 
 then Aggie and Mr. Maxwell, and Bell and 
 the minister will just make the two couples 
 for a foursome nicely. I'm afraid you will 
 have to look on, Mr. Royston." 
 
 Royston assented cheerfully to the 
 arrangement ; but the minister asserted 
 deprecatingly that he did not dance, could 
 not get through a reel, etc., and his pro- 
 posed partner certainly gave him no en- 
 couragement. The others fell upon him in 
 a body, however. 
 
 " Nonsense, Mr. Wilson," said Aggie, 
 " it's a good old Scots dance, and you ought 
 to know how to dance it." 
 
 "And I think, Mr. Wilson, it will be
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 93 
 
 very unchristian if you spoil the set," said 
 Mary. 
 
 Mr. Wilson murmured they could have 
 two threesomes without him. 
 
 " But then it was to let Mr. Royston see 
 a foursome as well," said Miss Laurie. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Wilson, you will have to 
 give in," said Mrs. Jamieson, smiling upon 
 him from the piano, " and I'm sure Miss 
 Graham will see you through it all 
 right." 
 
 Miss Graham made a wry face, which 
 was meant only for the private relief of her 
 own feelings, but which, unfortunately, Roy- 
 ston detected. Still more unfortunately, she 
 saw he detected it, and the fact was added 
 immediately to those she was scoring up 
 against him. She took her place in the 
 foursome reel, regarding with general dis- 
 approval the Rev. Mr. Wilson, who had 
 been propelled into his place opposite her ; 
 and she danced with an energy and abandon
 
 94 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 which amused the one onlooker. Not that 
 Bell was a hoyden ; she simply put all her 
 superfluous energies into the dance, working 
 off in lithe, active, and by no means ungrace- 
 ful movements her aggravation and annoy- 
 ance, as well as giving rein to her healthy 
 young spirits and her unaffected enjoyment 
 of music and rhythmic motion. When the 
 reel ended, her feelings towards both Mr. 
 Wilson and Royston were more Christian 
 than they had been at its commencement. 
 
 Mr. Wilson had himself somewhat con- 
 tributed to this desirable result. There are 
 various modes of dancing a reel, and Mr. 
 Wilson's entailed much violent stamping, 
 spasmodic hopping about, and wild whirling 
 round, with coat-tails flapping in the rear. 
 In the secret amusement he caused her, Bell 
 felt inclined to overlook and forgive the 
 feeble attentions he was occasionally goaded 
 on to offer, and smiled with such unusual 
 affability when he concluded his performance
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 95 
 
 with an elaborate bow, that the misguided 
 young man was led, perhaps not unnaturally, 
 to suppose he had advanced a step in her 
 favour. He followed up his success by 
 sitting down beside her, and plunging into 
 conversation on parish matters. In Bell's 
 improved temper she would at least have 
 been decently civil to him if the Jamieson 
 family had not immediately adopted their 
 usual tactics, and retired to a distance, 
 drawing off with them, unobtrusively but 
 unmistakably, the rest of the company. Her 
 wrath was beginning to flicker up again 
 when, fortunately, the footman announced 
 that Miss Graham's servant was waiting. 
 
 " Then just take her into the servants' 
 hall and give her some supper, John," 
 commanded Aggie. " Nonsense, Bell, what's 
 your hurry ? It's far too early to be thinking 
 of going yet. It isn't dark, and even if it 
 were, there's Mr. Wilson to go down the 
 road with you."
 
 9 6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " Thank you," said Bell, coolly, " but as 
 my aunts have sent Janet now, I would 
 rather go and not keep her waiting. They 
 will be expecting me." 
 
 And, saying good-night, she ran up to 
 Aggie's room for her hat and jacket. 
 
 When she came down, Mr. Wilson was 
 in the hall with Royston and Aggie. 
 
 " Janet's waiting at the door, Bell," said 
 the latter, " and Mr. Wilson says he is 
 going now, so that's all right." 
 
 Bell did not look as though it were. 
 
 " There is no occasion for Mr. Wilson to 
 riurry away," she said, " you might want him 
 for another reel." 
 
 Mr. Wilson was understood to murmur 
 that dancing was not his usual habit, and 
 that his late performance was to be looked 
 upon as the exception which proved the 
 rule. 
 
 Bell took no notice. 
 
 "Well, good-bye, Aggie," she said; "you
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 97 
 
 had better go back to the drawing-room ; I 
 hear someone asking Mr. Maxwell to sing, 
 which means you will be wanted to accom- 
 pany." 
 
 And Aggie, nothing loth, kissed her 
 friend, and went. 
 
 " Are you wrapped up enough, Miss 
 Graham ? " inquired Royston, politely, as he 
 accompanied her to the door. 
 
 " Quite, thank you." replied Bell ; " we 
 hardly consider this a cold night here." 
 
 "Neither do I," he said; " I was only 
 thinking, after your exertions you should be 
 careful not to catch cold." 
 
 Bell laughed — a laugh with a delicate 
 tinge of contempt about it, which probably 
 meant that whatever his languid Southron 
 ideas might be, a Scots girl did not call a 
 reel exertion. 
 
 " Good-night," she said, and held out her 
 hand with amiable condescension. 
 
 " Good-night," he said, taking it ; and, 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 9 8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 giving her a keen, half-amused glance of, 
 perhaps, five seconds' duration, he added, " I 
 believe I am really not quite as bad as you 
 have painted me." 
 
 If Bell could have scorched him with a 
 look as he stood there ! But, to her wild 
 annoyance, she could only blush fiery red as 
 she turned on her heel, and, calling Janet to 
 follow, sped out at the door and down the 
 avenue. 
 
 Mr. Wilson was following, when Royston 
 barred his way in accidental fashion. 
 
 " Oh, have a cigar," he said. "You 
 smoke, don't you ? " 
 
 The minister admitted the soft impeach- 
 ment, while hurriedly picking up the um- 
 brella which he had dropped. 
 
 " I have a- very good cigar here," said 
 Royston, exploring a pocket in a leisurely 
 way ; " at least — no, I haven't got it here. I 
 must have left my case upstairs, I suppose. 
 I'll get it." And he turned back into the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 99 
 
 house, heedless of Mr. Wilson's stammered 
 explanations that he really did not want 
 to smoke, was in a hurry to get home, 
 would have a pipe in his own garden 
 presently. 
 
 But Royston was upstairs by this time, 
 and, presumably, did not easily find his 
 cigar-case ; at least, it was some time before 
 he returned. 
 
 " You'll find this a capital cigar," he 
 remarked, pleasantly, as he reappeared. 
 " Wait a minute, and let me give you a 
 light." For Mr. Wilson, with some in- 
 coherent thanks, was again making a dash 
 to- be off. " Steady ! you had better come 
 a little further in ; the draught puts it 
 out." 
 
 The cigar was got under way at last, and 
 the minister went hurrying down the avenue. 
 Royston stood in the porch, watching him 
 with a grave face, but something like a 
 twinkle in his eyes.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 "You didn't deserve a good turn from 
 me, my fair friend," he observed sotto voce; 
 " but I shall be very much surprised if he 
 catches you this side of Kintocher now."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " There is Mary Jamieson coming in at the 
 gate," observed Miss Wardlaw. 
 
 "And a gentleman with her," added Miss 
 Lizzie; "and me darning stockings in the 
 drawing-room." 
 
 " It's that Mr. Royston who is staying 
 with them," said Bell, glancing out of the 
 window from the writing-table where she 
 was seated ; " and I daresay he knows we do 
 wear stockings, Aunt Lizzie." 
 
 But she got up with a laugh, and went 
 
 to the assistance of Miss Lizzie, who was 
 
 leaving a trail of hose behind her as she 
 
 hurriedly crossed the room with an armful 
 [ioi]
 
 102 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 to deposit in the drawer of a Japanese table, 
 from which a large red silk bag depended. 
 Into what part of the evigkeit, one wonders, 
 have all the Japanese tables with red silk 
 bags departed. They were not aesthetic : they 
 were ugly, even ; but what a multitude of 
 sins in the shape of stocking darning and 
 " white sewing " in the drawing-room could 
 they not cover. 
 
 Mary Jamieson came in, followed by 
 Royston, before Miss Lizzie had quite 
 recovered from her flustered state ; indeed, 
 throughout the visit she preserved an uneasy 
 consciousness of concealed stockings. 
 
 " We came," said Mary, when she had 
 exchanged greetings and introduced her 
 companion, "to ask if you will all come to 
 a picnic to-morrow. We are going to Loch 
 Erich. It makes a capital place for a picnic, 
 you know ; and Mr. Royston ought to see 
 it because of the historical interest. Mamma 
 hopes you will all come, Miss Wardlaw."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 103 
 
 " Many thanks to Mrs. Jamieson," re- 
 plied Miss Grace, " but I am sure she will 
 excuse us. Picnics are for young folk ; 
 and Bell, I doubt not, will be pleased 
 enough to go." 
 
 " Of course, Aunt Grace," said Bell ; 
 "but I think you and Aunt Lizzie might 
 come just for once ; it would do you good." 
 
 " You'll tell us all about it when you get 
 back," said Miss Grace, who had never been 
 known to change a once-expressed deter- 
 mination. 
 
 Miss Lizzie, in her heart, was conscious 
 of a half-formed desire to join the ex- 
 pedition, but she had never questioned her 
 sister's decisions, and it did not even occur 
 to her now to throw out the mildest sug- 
 gestion that she should like to go. 
 
 Mary did not press the matter more than 
 politeness required. It was, as has been 
 said, the usual result of invitations from the 
 " big hoose " to Nether Kintocher, and she
 
 io 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 was herself very much of Miss Grace's 
 opinion that " picnics were for young folk." 
 She began to ask some questions about a 
 poor family in the village, to which Miss 
 Grace and Bell replied. Miss Lizzie was 
 left to entertain Royston. 
 
 " Do you know Scotland well ? " she 
 asked, gently. 
 
 " This is my first visit," he replied, " and 
 I think I ought to be ashamed to say so, 
 for I have seen and known a good deal of 
 foreign countries." 
 
 Miss Lizzie smiled upon him. 
 "That would be pleasant," she said. " I 
 used to have a great wish to travel myself 
 when I was younger, but I never went 
 farther than Paris, and that was in my 
 father's lifetime. I daresay you know the 
 continent of Europe well." 
 
 " Fairly well," he said; "and I have 
 been in India, America, and Africa." 
 
 " Oh, you have seen a great deal, then,"
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 105 
 
 said Miss Lizzie, "and I daresay our hills 
 and lochs look but small things after what 
 you have seen in America. Everything 
 seems to be so big there." 
 
 " The biggest are not always the best," 
 he said ; " and I like Scotland — it reminds 
 me of home." 
 
 "Home?'' said Miss Lizzie, inquiringly. 
 
 " Devonshire," he answered. " My father 
 is a clergyman there ; and the hills, and the 
 moors, and the heather seem very home-like. 
 Our hills are, as a rule, not so peaked and 
 jagged as yours, but otherwise the character 
 is much the same." 
 
 Miss Lizzie beamed on him. 
 
 " Oh, then, you're sure to like Scot- 
 land," she said. And she continued the 
 conversation with evident pleasure and 
 satisfaction till Mary Jamieson rose to 
 
 " Then we'll pick you up in the morning, 
 Bell," said the latter, " as we pass the
 
 io6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 keeper's cottage, if you'll go up the road to 
 the turn." 
 
 Bell assented, and the two visitors de- 
 parted. 
 
 " That's a nice lad," observed Miss 
 Lizzie, meditatively, when she had produced 
 her stockings again and recommenced her 
 darning. 
 
 " A lad, Aunt Lizzie," remonstrated 
 Bell, " why, he's quite old — thirty, at least." 
 
 11 To be sure," said Miss Grace, with a 
 dry laugh ; " thirty, at least." 
 
 "And would you call him very nice?" 
 pursued Bell. " I think him rather for- 
 ward." 
 
 "My dear," said Miss Lizzie, "you 
 should not judge people so rashly. Now, I 
 would call him a very respectful, pleasant- 
 mannered young man — and he likes Scotland, 
 too," she added, as though that settled the 
 question. 
 
 Miss Grace laughed again.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 107 
 
 " It's well seen how he got round you, 
 Lizzie" she said. 
 
 Miss Lizzie joined in the laugh. 
 
 " Maybe, that was it," she said, good- 
 humouredly ; " but his opinion was worth 
 having, because he has been in other coun- 
 tries — Africa, India." 
 
 " Of course, he would have to go where 
 his regiment was ordered," said Bell, who 
 appeared to grudge him even any credit 
 which might attach to voluntary travel and 
 exploration. 
 
 " Oh ! is he in the army ? " said Miss 
 Lizzie. " I did not gather that ; I don't know 
 that I would just have thought it, either." 
 
 And then, as Miss Grace went off to 
 attend to some domestic matter and Bell 
 was clearly not interested in the discussion 
 of Mr. Royston, the subject dropped. 
 
 Bell was waiting at the keeper's cottage 
 at the appointed time next day, and 
 the Jamieson's waggonette, followed by
 
 io8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Robert Maxwell's " trap," soon appeared 
 round a bend of the road. Maxwell's 
 vehicle held two, and contained himself and 
 Aggie Jamieson. The waggonette was ca- 
 pable of carrying six, besides the coachman 
 and footman, and held, on the present occa- 
 sion, Mrs. Jamieson and Mary, Royston, and 
 — to Bell's disgust and surprise — Mr. Wilson. 
 She had not contemplated the possibility of 
 the minister being one of the party, and felt 
 that Mary, in concealing, or, at least, not 
 alluding to the fact, had been guilty of some- 
 thing like meanness and treachery. 
 
 Mary was serenely unconscious, and 
 greeted her with her usual heartiness. 
 
 " We are all here, Bell ; we couldn't get 
 either the Lauries or the MacLeods, 
 so we must just make the best of each 
 other." 
 
 Mary's suggestion was made in all inno- 
 cence, but it was a pertinent one so far as 
 Bell was concerned. Her natural inclination
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 109 
 
 certainly was not to make the best of either 
 of the gentlemen in the waggonette. 
 
 " We ought to have had another man to 
 make us even," said Mrs. Jamieson, good- 
 naturedly, as she made room for Bell ; " but 
 as you three young ladies will each have a 
 cavalier, it is of less consequence." 
 
 And she looked at her little party, obvi- 
 ously pairing Mary and Royston, Bell and 
 the minister — Aggie and Maxwell, having 
 made their own arrangements, did not require 
 assorting. 
 
 Bell groaned in the spirit : here, for the 
 period of a fourteen-mile drive, she would 
 be absolutely at the mercy of Mrs. Jamieson 
 and Mr. Wilson. She settled herself in her 
 corner, feeling defiant However, to go on 
 glooming for a couple of hours at her com- 
 panions would scarcely be desirable, and she 
 rapidly made up her mind the best course to 
 pursue was to be as lively as circumstances 
 would permit and keep the conversation
 
 no A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 general. And she did this with the best 
 effect. 
 
 " When one gets Bell in a mood like this, 
 she is worth half a dozen," reflected Mrs. 
 Jamieson, " she is keeping both these men 
 thoroughly entertained. Plenty of women 
 can charm a man, but only about one in fifty 
 can entertain him." And she looked reflec- 
 tively at her own daughter. 
 
 But Bell was not of the race of women 
 who enjoy extinguishing their own sex ; she 
 was leading Mary on, and giving her a fair 
 chance of showing herself to be what she 
 really was — a good-natured, pleasant girl. 
 
 " Not a bit selfish either," thought Mrs. 
 Jamieson. " Now, if Mr. Wilson had any 
 gumption, he ought to be able to find some 
 opportunity to-day about the Castle." 
 
 And, with the best intentions in the 
 world, the good lady began to weave plans 
 which would have made Bell inclined to 
 shake her heartily, had she known of them.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 People who prefer their lunch minus the 
 addition of spiders and wasps, and plus 
 horse-hair chairs on which to sit, instead of 
 damp grass, frequently partake of that meal at 
 the " Erich Arms," and are afterwards rowed 
 across the loch to the island where the ruins 
 of Loch Erich Castle stand. It is possible 
 Mrs. Jamieson herself might have preferred 
 this mode of procedure ; but, naturally, Aggie 
 and Mary would have none of it — indeed, as 
 they pertinently observed, under those cir- 
 cumstances it would be useless to call it a 
 picnic. So a goodly hamper had been 
 packed, and when they left the carriages at 
 the " Erich Arms," it was carried down to 
 the loch, and the boat, which conveyed 
 them to the island. 
 
 When they landed, the business of lunch 
 was at once proceeded with ; Aggie declaring 
 she was famishing, a statement with which 
 Maxwell cordially and somewhat noisily 
 agreed. He also pointed out as a suitable
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 place for the festive meal a spot beneath the 
 Castle walls, where the grass grew especially 
 long and luxuriant. 
 
 " I should think you mast want Mrs. 
 Jamieson to be laid up with rheumatism for 
 the next month," said Bell, as she plunged 
 her hand into the rank greenness ; " this 
 place is simply wringing wet." 
 
 " Indeed, I'm sure it's not a good place 
 at all," said Mrs. Jamieson ; " Bell is quite 
 right. She is so sensible. Mr. Wilson, if 
 you and she were to hunt about, I'm sure 
 you would find us a good place — somewhere 
 on the other side of the Castle would be 
 better, I daresay." 
 
 " Did ever good lady do it more clum- 
 sily ? " meditated Royston, as he gazed with 
 apparent interest at the opposite shore. " But 
 she deserves credit, too, for I believe she is 
 quite willing to wait indefinitely for her 
 luncheon if only the parish minister can be 
 matrimonially provided for in the meantime."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 113 
 
 Bell did not fall in with the suggestion. 
 
 " There is a very good place down here, 
 Mrs. Jamieson," she said, with calm indiffer- 
 ence, "this pebbly bit near the water; it is 
 dry and clean, and here is the stump of an old 
 tree, which will do nicely for you to sit upon." 
 
 Accordingly, Mrs. Jamieson was en- 
 throned and the provisions unpacked, a good 
 deal of fun and laughter going on the while. 
 
 " I could have enjoyed myself well 
 enough," reflected Bell, " if only Mr. Wilson 
 were safe in Kintocher ; or if, now he is 
 here, they'd leave him alone. The other 
 man is not so bad to-day." 
 
 " The other man," indeed, was conduct- 
 ing himself with extreme circumspection. 
 He had grasped the fact that he was intended 
 for Mary's benefit on this occasion, and he 
 fulfilled his duties with care and attention. 
 
 One result of this was that, Robert Max- 
 well being in attendance on Aggie, Bell was 
 left almost entirely at the mercy of Mrs. 
 vol. 1. 8
 
 ii 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Jamieson and Mr. Wilson. She was, in fact, 
 seated between them at lunch, and a picnic 
 lunch has frequently been turned to good 
 account in the conduct of a flirtation or love- 
 affair. But Mr. Wilson laboured under the 
 disadvantage of never before having seri- 
 ously attempted to make love to anyone ; and 
 of, now that he was attempting it, finding the 
 object of his affection almost unbecomingly 
 absorbed in the business of satisfying her 
 inner woman with meat-pie and jam-tart, and 
 obviously indifferent to male blandishments. 
 
 " That new mare nearly pulled my arms 
 off coming," observed Maxwell, with an 
 air of fatigue, as he demolished a liberal 
 helping of chicken and tongue ; "what she'll 
 be like going back, I don't want to think. 
 But I know I wish someone else was going 
 to drive her." 
 
 "I suppose you wouldn't trust me?" 
 suggested Royston, as he removed a beetle 
 which was approaching Mary's plate.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 115 
 
 "My dear fellow," said Maxwell, 
 stretching his arms, " I'll grant you plenary 
 absolution if you break her knees, if you 
 only spare my hands and arms the return 
 journey. But, I give you fair warning, 
 she's got a mouth like cast-iron." 
 
 "Well," said the other, "on those terms 
 I don't mind risking it." 
 
 Mrs. Jamieson shook her head. 
 
 " You are far too reckless about horses, 
 Robert," she said. " You really might have 
 brought a quiet one to-day, and particularly 
 when you were going to drive Aggie." 
 
 " Oh, I thought the long spin would do 
 her good ; and she's really all right, you 
 know — not a bit of vice about her," re- 
 sponded Maxwell, alluding not to Miss 
 Jamieson, but to the mare. 
 
 Bell smiled. " There never is any vice 
 about your horses," she observed, "not even 
 when you get kicked off, and have to be 
 carried home on a gate."
 
 n6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Maxwell grinned. 
 
 "Oh, come now, I say, Miss Graham, 
 that only happened once." 
 
 "Which was once too often," said Mrs. 
 Jamieson, with the air of slight reproof 
 and general interest in the preservation of 
 his life and limb, suitable in a prospec- 
 tive mother-in-law. Then, with a sudden 
 change of subject, " Give Mr. Wilson a 
 glass of champagne." 
 
 Mr. Wilson protested he had had one 
 already, and considered it enough, but 
 Mrs. Jamieson overruled his objections. 
 It is to be feared that much as the 
 mistress of Kintocher, as a general rule, 
 objected to indulgence in spirituous li- 
 quors, she was in the present instance 
 bent on priming the minister with Dutch 
 courage. 
 
 Perhaps Bell guessed her intentions, and 
 it may be Royston did so too, but it was a 
 perfectly unmoved countenance he turned
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 117 
 
 towards Mrs. Jamieson, when, after filling 
 the minister's glass, he asked, 
 
 " Shall I give Miss Graham some, too?" 
 
 Mrs. Jamieson caught at the suggestion 
 as at a happy thought. 
 
 "Yes, certainly. Oh, yes, Bell, my 
 dear, nonsense ! After your long drive, 
 and in the open air, it will do you good." 
 
 Royston held the bottle towards her. 
 
 " No, thank you," said Bell, very 
 distinctly, looking at him. 
 
 "Yes, yes, go on, Mr. Royston," said 
 Mrs. Jamieson ; and Royston filled up the 
 glass. 
 
 11 1 said no," said Bell, grimly, still 
 looking at him. 
 
 He bowed politely. " I had to obey 
 my hostess." 
 
 Miss Graham took up the glass, turned 
 round, and poured it out steadily on the 
 sand behind her. Royston gravely handed 
 her a jug of spring-water, and helped
 
 n8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 himself to pate de foie gras. Miss Graham's 
 opinion that he was " not so bad " to-day 
 had altered, but he appeared calmly in- 
 different to, or, perhaps, even unaware of 
 that circumstance. 
 
 " Can one get to the top of the Castle ? " 
 he inquired. 
 
 "Not to the top," said Mary; "it isn't 
 safe. Indeed, the stair is so broken, I am 
 not quite sure it is even possible. But you 
 can get as high as that window you see up 
 there, without any difficulty. You should 
 go up afterwards." 
 
 " I will," said Royston, " but I am sorry 
 I must stop at the window, I always like 
 to go on till I come to the top." 
 
 Bell flashed a glance at him. Was this 
 the most audacious or the most unconscious 
 man she had ever met ? He was helping 
 Mrs. Jamieson to rise from her tree-stump, 
 and no illumination was to be gathered from 
 his expression.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 119 
 
 " I am going to wash up," Bell 
 announced brusquely, rising too, and 
 proceeding to carry some of the plates 
 down to the brink of the loch. Aggie 
 and Maxwell followed with others ; Mrs. 
 Jamieson and Mr. Wilson hovered about 
 in the vicinity ; and Royston, piloted by 
 Mary, went off to inspect the remains of 
 the Castle. 
 
 The arrangements were not quite 
 according to Mrs. Jamieson's fancy, and she 
 bore down upon Bell. 
 
 " My dear, you need not be doing 
 scullery work. It will be something for 
 James to do when he has finished his 
 dinner," indicating the footman now occupied 
 in disposing of the remains of the repast ; 
 " and I really wish Aggie and Robert 
 would stop, too. Gracious ! That's the 
 second plate Robert has broken ; what a 
 mercy I insisted on the kitchen set I 
 Now, Bell, my dear, you will just stop."
 
 i2o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I haven't broken anything yet, Mrs. 
 Jamieson," said Bell, laughing at Robert's 
 dismay. 
 
 " Of course, you haven't," said the lady 
 of Kintocher, "but you are so clever with 
 your fingers, and such a good housewife — 
 isn't she, Mr. Wilson ? — and, you see, if 
 you will stop, I can call off Robert Maxwell 
 before he has broken everything." 
 
 The force of the reasoning did not 
 strike Bell as conspicuous, but she resigned 
 her occupation ; and while Mrs. Jamieson 
 was employed in remonstrating with the 
 other pair, and Mr. Wilson's attention 
 given, as she thought, elsewhere, she 
 escaped out of sight round the outer walls 
 of the Castle. She saw Royston and 
 Mary emerge from the door of the tower 
 — evidently having made the ascent as far 
 as the window which Mary had indicated 
 — and then stroll further on. Mary, as it 
 seemed, pointing out the precise spots
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 121 
 
 where part of the tragic story of a queen 
 had been enacted. 
 
 Bell entered the door at the foot of the 
 tower, and wandered up the stair till she, 
 too, reached the window, and then stood 
 looking out, and there, as it chanced, Mrs. 
 Jamieson caught sight of her. 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Wilson," she said, 
 " there is Bell up there all by herself. That 
 is the worst of having unequal numbers — 
 the other four have paired off, and I 
 am being very selfish, and keeping you by 
 me. That will never do. I will sit down 
 quietly here and enjoy the view, while you 
 go and keep Bell company." 
 
 Bell was still standing looking out of 
 the window, when she heard steps behind 
 her, and, turning, discovered Mr. Wilson — 
 Mr. Wilson, with an expression on his face 
 which immediately filled her with dismay. 
 For that excellent young man — perhaps 
 assisted by Mrs. Jamieson's champagne —
 
 122 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 had at last screwed his courage to the 
 sticking-point, and intended to face things 
 out. 
 
 " Miss Graham," he said. 
 
 "What have you done with Mrs. 
 Jamieson ? " responded the lady, in a 
 menacing tone, which might have dismayed 
 a braver man than Mr. Wilson. 
 
 " She — she is walking on the shore," 
 he stammered. "She had no objection to 
 my leaving her — in fact — in fact — I may 
 say she approves of my object in — in 
 following you." 
 
 The misguided man could scarcely 
 have made a worse beginning ; if he had 
 at least been able to say that someone 
 disapproved of his present course, he might, 
 perhaps, have stood some distant chance of 
 being met by, at least, civility. 
 
 "It would really be better," said Miss 
 Graham, with, it may be, some unconscious 
 reminiscence of the "Duchess" in "Alice
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 123 
 
 in Wonderland," " it would really be better 
 if people were to mind their own business." 
 
 " But this, at least," said the poor 
 minister desperately, "is my own business 
 — one that is very near my heart — I may 
 say nothing can be nearer, and " 
 
 Bell made a futile attempt to descend > 
 but Mr. Wilson's position barred her 
 passage, and, turning, she began, instead, 
 to ascend the more broken stair which led 
 higher up. She knew perfectly well it was 
 considered unsafe, but she was possessed 
 by an unreasoning desire to get away 
 anyhow from this first proposal of her 
 maidenhood which she knew instinctively 
 was coming. 
 
 On Mr. Wilson's behalf it must be said 
 he had quite forgotten in his flurry and 
 excitement that the higher stair was for- 
 bidden, and he followed her, almost un- 
 conscious of where he was going. 
 
 Mary and Royston were examining the
 
 i2 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 rampart walls, when the former happened to 
 raise her eyes to the tower. 
 
 " Goodness ! " she exclaimed, in a 
 horrified way. " Oh, Mr. Royston, look 
 up there — Bell and Mr. Wilson. They 
 must be mad! Oh, go back, go back \ It 
 isn't safe ! They're not paying any 
 attention, and Bell is so headstrong — and 
 Mr. Wilson sometimes is a born idiot ! " 
 said Mary, driven by fright to extremely 
 plain speaking. 
 
 Royston had taken in the situation. 
 
 " I'd better go," he said, and strode 
 rapidly to the door at the foot of the tower, 
 ran up the stair as far as the window, and 
 then called, " You had better come down! 
 Don't you know you are on an unsafe 
 place there ? " 
 
 The voice reached the top in the 
 middle of an impassioned period of the 
 minister's. 
 
 " You had better go down, Mr. Wilson,"
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 125 
 
 said Bell, coldly. " Don't you hear you are 
 in an unsafe place ? " 
 
 " Not without you," he replied. " Come, 
 Miss Graham ; have I driven you into a 
 situation of danger ? — you, whom I " 
 
 "You had better not wait here till the 
 tower goes down with you," said Royston's 
 voice behind him. "Come, Mr. Wilson, 
 go down at once ; I will attend to Miss 
 Graham." 
 
 The minister collapsed and descended 
 in a state which might be described as 
 having his tail between his legs. 
 
 " Come now, Miss Graham," said 
 Royston. 
 
 All the perversity in Bell's nature had 
 been roused by this time. 
 
 11 You seem to have appointed yourself 
 guardian of the Castle," she remarked, in a 
 nonchalant manner, without stirring. 
 
 " I simply don't want to stand by and 
 see a foolish young woman cause her own
 
 126 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 death," he replied, also showing a spice of 
 temper. 
 
 Bell laughed with fine contempt. At 
 the same moment there was a sound of 
 crumbling masonry. Miss Graham was 
 caught up without ceremony, and did not 
 find herself on her own feet again until she 
 was opposite the window where her inter- 
 view with Mr. Wilson had commenced. 
 Two large stones on the top of the tower 
 had given way, and now lay on the grass 
 below. 
 
 " We seem fated to have adventures in 
 towers," remarked Royston. "On the 
 present occasion, if you were my sister, I 
 should feel inclined to give you a good 
 shaking." 
 
 Bell glared. 
 
 "Why couldn't you have heard the poor 
 man out somewhere on terra firma, like a 
 sensible girl, and put him out of his 
 misery decently ? Think of the waste,
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 127 
 
 too," he added, a dry amusement stealing 
 into his voice, "of that specially excellent 
 brand of champagne supplied by Mrs. 
 Jamieson for the occasion." 
 
 11 1 wish," said Bell, in towering wrath, 
 " that you were my brother." 
 
 "Yes, and ?" he inquired pleasantly. 
 
 " I should box your ears."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The incident decidedly interrupted the en- 
 joyment of some members of the party 
 Mary Jamieson had been too thoroughly 
 frightened by the appearance of her friend 
 on the dangerous and forbidden summit to 
 get over the effect at once ; Mr. Wilson was 
 smarting from his recent rebuffs ; and Bell 
 was in a state of suppressed irritation, 
 which might possibly have found some 
 relief in hanging a millstone apiece about 
 the necks of Royston and the minister, 
 and casting them into the depths of Loch 
 Erich. These three, at least, were not 
 sorry when it was time to row back to 
 
 [128]
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 129 
 
 the mainland and prepare for the drive 
 home. 
 
 At the door of the "Erich Arms" they met 
 Mr. Syme, and Bell cheered up at the sight. 
 She honestly liked Mr. Syme, and the old 
 man returned the feeling, withal thoroughly 
 understanding the girl. 
 
 Greetings were interchanged, and Mr. 
 Syme explained he had come up to Erich 
 in the morning to see his brother of the 
 Free Kirk there. 
 
 "Then we'll drive you back," said Mrs. 
 Jamieson, with her usual hospitality. "As 
 it happens, we have a place to spare, and it 
 will be pleasant to have you to fill it." 
 
 Bell was thinking and looking the same 
 thing, while Mr. Syme explained, " He would 
 not put them about, but would just walk 
 down the road as far as David Campbell's, 
 and he, honest man, would give him a lift 
 home in his gig." 
 
 " Indeed, you will not," said Mrs. Jamie- 
 vol. 1. 9
 
 1 3 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 son. <( As far as David Campbell's — three 
 miles off! Here is the waggonette and Mr. 
 Maxwell's trap, and plenty of room for all." 
 
 There was plenty of room, but a little 
 difficulty arose as to how it was to be filled. 
 Royston was now in possession of the 
 driving-seat of Maxwell's trap, and that 
 gentleman had every intention of going in 
 the waggonette with Aggie. Mary ap- 
 peared to be the obvious companion for 
 Royston, and so her mother evidently 
 thought. But Mary herself hung back ; she 
 was always rather nervous about horses, 
 and what she had heard of this particular 
 one had not tended to reassure her ; and, 
 besides, she was still shaken by the fright 
 Bell had given her. 
 
 Both ministers offered themselves for 
 the spare seat in the trap — Mr. Syme with 
 perfect readiness, and Mr. Wilson in a rather 
 half-hearted way. But Mrs. Jamieson entirely 
 objected to either arrangement ; she wanted
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 131 
 
 to talk to Mr. Syme herself, and Mr. Wilson 
 — she did not conclude, but her glance fell 
 on Bell, and unconsciously she made up 
 that young lady's mind for her. It had 
 been already wavering since its owner had 
 realized poor Mary's shaken condition, and 
 her own share in producing it. 
 
 " Dear me ! I wonder what we are all 
 trying to quarrel about ? " quoth Miss 
 Graham, airily. "I'm going in the trap." 
 And before anyone could offer assistance, 
 before even Royston could quite suppress 
 an involuntary look of astonishment, she 
 had climbed into the trap, and was settling 
 herself beside hirn. 
 
 " Really, Mary," Mrs. Jamieson was be- 
 ginning, " I think " 
 
 But Mary had risen to the occasion too, 
 and was composing herself in the corner of 
 the waggonette. " It's all right, mamma," 
 she said ; " make the others get in. Bell 
 says she isn't nervous about the horse."
 
 i 3 2 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 And Mrs. Jamieson found nothing re- 
 mained for her to do but acquiesce, and pack 
 in the rest of her party in the proper order. 
 
 " It must have been a case of ' between 
 the devil and the deep sea' for my com- 
 panion," reflected Royston. " I wonder 
 which I represent. Perhaps the ocean ; and 
 she may be under the impression she can 
 swim, which would account for my se- 
 lection." 
 
 " Look here, Royston," shouted Robert 
 Maxwell, from the waggonette, " I give you 
 fair warning : the mare nearly pulled my arms 
 off coming up, and she'll likely be worse 
 going back. She won't want anyone to give 
 her a lead going home, I can tell you. 
 You'd better let us have a fair start first, I 
 think." 
 
 "All right," returned Royston; " I'll let 
 you get clear away before we begin to make 
 a move at all." 
 
 " If your horse is as bad as that, you
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 133 
 
 ought to have driven it yourself," said Mary, 
 reproachfully. " What does Mr. Royston 
 know about it ? And then there's Bell," 
 she added, with compunction. 
 
 "Oh, they're all right," said Maxwell, 
 with the cheerful optimism which character- 
 ized him. " Royston knows what he's 
 about. I shouldn't have trusted the mare 
 to him if I hadn't found that out. And she 
 doesn't do anything but pull, unless — well, 
 unless she meets a train or a traction engine. 
 In the nature of things, she can't come 
 across a train between this and Kintocher, 
 and the traction engine is almost equally 
 unlikely." 
 
 " There was a reaping-machine on the 
 far side of a field as we came up," said 
 Mary, "and it will have worked round to- 
 wards the road by now." 
 
 Robert Maxwell laughed. " More than 
 that — it will have finished its work for the 
 day, and gone home to tea."
 
 i 3 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 And Mary, comforted by this assurance, 
 relapsed into a more cheerful frame of 
 mind. 
 
 The waggonette was soon out of sight 
 along the winding road, and Royston waited 
 a judicious time after its disappearance 
 before he bid the hostler let go the mare's 
 head and started her on her homeward 
 career. She pulled, certainly, and showed 
 a decided disposition to dash off in wild 
 pursuit of the waggonette ; but, after a time, 
 apparently realizing the calm but exceedingly 
 firm objection her driver had to such con- 
 duct, she steadied down. 
 
 "I am inclined to think Maxwell made 
 a mistake," observed Royston ; "I believe 
 this lady would have behaved with more 
 composure if she had been allowed to keep 
 within a reasonable distance of the wag- 
 gonette." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Bell, in an 
 assenting and perfectly amiable tone.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 135 
 
 Royston looked round at her and spoke : 
 
 "Will you let me apologize for the want 
 of ceremony with which I treated you in the 
 Castle ? I am afraid it was quite unjusti- 
 fiable." 
 
 There was a pause of five seconds, and 
 then Bell replied in a calm and judicial 
 tone : — 
 
 "If you mean the way in which you 
 snatched me up, and carried me down those 
 top steps, there is nothing to apologize for ; 
 you thought my life was in danger, and you 
 did your best to save it — 1 have to thank you 
 for that. If you mean the way in which you 
 alluded to my private affairs, I think you 
 should apologize ; that was unjustifiable. If 
 you mean when you said you would like to 
 shake me, you were very rude ; but — it was 
 mutual." 
 
 " Evidently, I was the ' deep sea,' " medi- 
 tated Royston, "and my young friend can 
 swim. I apologize," he said, with perfect
 
 136 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 gravity, ''for alluding to your private affairs ; 
 also for the desire which I expressed, in the 
 event of having been a near relation, to shake 
 you. It was rude, and scarcely mutual, 
 either, was it ? I believe it was my ears you 
 wanted to box." 
 
 Bell flashed a rather ominous look at him. 
 
 Royston occupied himself with the mare 
 for a minute or two before he spoke again. 
 Then : — 
 
 " Miss Graham," he said, "we must drive 
 all the way back to Kintocher together, un- 
 less we overtake the waggonette, which, 
 considering the start it had, is practically 
 impossible, particularly as I don't want to 
 encourage this quadruped with the cast-iron 
 mouth to bolt. So, what do you say to our 
 endeavouring to accomplish the journey 
 peaceably ? " 
 
 "As how ?" inquired Bell, coolly. 
 
 " I shall be as good and well-behaved as 
 in me lies," responded her companion, " if
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 137 
 
 you, on your part, will make as much allow- 
 ance as you can for that natural depravity, 
 which, perhaps, I may not be able entirely to 
 overcome." 
 
 Bell turned and met his glance, appre- 
 ciating in spite of herself the involuntary 
 twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 " I am inclined to think you are not 
 quite as — as " 
 
 " Objectionable," he suggested. 
 
 "As objectionable as I thought," con- 
 tinued Bell, with a twitch at the corners of 
 her lips. 
 
 " Come, that's something," said Royston, 
 cheerfully. 
 
 " Perhaps, I am not so disagreeable all 
 the time as I am sometimes," said Bell, in 
 such an unexpectedly humble tone, that he 
 turned and looked at her curiously. 
 
 " ' A rosebud set about with little wilful 
 thorns,' " he quoted, half-aloud. 
 
 " You had better save that for any pretty
 
 138 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 little flirting girl you happen to know," said 
 Bell, with a threatening contempt stealing 
 into her tone again. 
 
 " I believe you are right," he said ; " I 
 know someone it suits very well. But you — 
 may I liken you to one of your native 
 thistles ? " 
 
 It was a happier suggestion evidently. 
 Bell smiled. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I rather like that. 
 The thistle is good Scots, and I am 
 Scots, too, and don't want to be anything 
 else." 
 
 " Pride of race is a very good thing," 
 said Royston, moderating the pace of the 
 mare, who again began to entertain views 
 about making a dash forward. " I always 
 admire it ; and in Scotland, particularly, you 
 manage it well — bit and bridle it, and achieve 
 a result very different to that in Ireland." 
 
 " Ireland ? " said Bell, inquiringly. 
 
 "There," explained Royston, "we have
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 139 
 
 constant trouble and discontent, veiled rebel- 
 lion, and hatred of the conquering race." 
 
 " You see," remarked Bell, quietly, " never 
 having been conquered, we have no conquer 
 ing race to deal with." 
 
 " True," said Royston, with a smile ; " I 
 had forgotten it was you who annexed 
 England, was it not ? " 
 
 "Is that intended for sarcasm?" said 
 Bell ; " because, if so, I don't see the point 
 of it." 
 
 " Please, don't think everything I say 
 must be sarcastic," he returned. "I am 
 seriously discussing the difference in the 
 state of Scotland and Ireland. By the way, 
 though, you have had your rebellions — in 
 1715 and 1745." 
 
 " The '15 and the '45 ! " cried Bell, with 
 a flash in her eye. " Do you call that rebel- 
 lion ? Do you compare that to anything that 
 ever happened in Ireland ? We were fight- 
 ing for our lawful King against usurpers.
 
 140 A SCOTS THISTLE., 
 
 We gave our blood and money freely for 
 him, with no thought of ourselves. Ireland, 
 indeed ! Do you dare to compare the miser- 
 able Fenian, moonlighting ruffians there, all 
 trying just for what each can get for himself, 
 to the loyal Scots, who fell face to the foe, 
 fighting for a Royal Stewart ? — my own fore- 
 fathers among them," she added, with a 
 quick breath. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, quite 
 gravely. 
 
 She looked at him to detect a lurking 
 amusement, but it was absent. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he repeated ; " I 
 believe I rather wish I could own to a 
 forefather myself who was out in the '45. 
 And I do see the difference you mean ; 
 there was devotion and self-abandonment 
 about the men of the ' 1 5 and the '45 ; in 
 Ireland it is every man for himself, and 
 who can get most for himself at any cost 
 to his neighbour, quite as much, it seems to
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 141 
 
 me, as to the hated tyrant, England. 
 Now, Miss Graham, how do you account 
 for this difference in people who are really 
 of the same race ? " 
 
 " That's just where people are always 
 making a mistake," returned Bell, quickly ; 
 ''they will insist that the Irish and the 
 Highlanders are of the same race, both 
 pure Celtic. To begin with, there is a lot 
 of Pictish blood in Scotland ; and then 
 look how the Norsemen were mixed up 
 with us in early times — many of the family 
 names tell you that. Can you imagine," 
 said Bell, indignantly, turning to her 
 companion, "can you imagine a Norseman 
 firing at an old man's legs in the dark, or 
 cutting off a poor cow's tail ? " 
 
 There was a smile on his face. 
 
 "Ah, you are laughing," she went on, 
 energetically, "but, surely, you see what I 
 mean ; there is something about that brave, 
 wholesome Northern blood, which could
 
 142 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 never lend itself to mean, sneaking stabs in 
 the dark." 
 
 She paused, realizing with some amaze- 
 ment the whole-heartedness and entire self- 
 abandonment with which she had been 
 talking to the man whom she certainly had 
 considered "objectionable." 
 
 " Then, don't you think, too, Miss 
 Graham," he said, quietly continuing the 
 subject, "that religion and education pro- 
 bably count for something also ? Scot- 
 land has always gone in so much more 
 for education amongst the ' masses,' than 
 Ireland, or England either." 
 
 "Oh, yes," she said rather shortly, for 
 she had returned to consciousness of herself 
 and him, and wondered if he had simply 
 been drawing her out. Then, putting aside 
 the suspicion which, indeed, was unneces- 
 sary, she went on naturally, but more 
 quietly than before : " But shades 
 of difference in race influence both
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 143 
 
 religion and education too, don't you 
 think ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I see your point 
 The Scots are too independent by nature, 
 too capable of thinking for themselves, 
 ever to be priest-ridden. I fancy even the 
 Roman-Catholicism of the Highlands was 
 always of a very different character to that 
 of Ireland." 
 
 "Yes," said Bell; and then she fell to 
 musing how much less objectionable, how 
 much more sensible this man had proved, 
 than her first impressions had led her to 
 expect. "It shows one should be careful 
 in forming first impressions," reflected Miss 
 Graham, with considerable appropriateness. 
 " But he can be rude, too — oh, yes ! — and I 
 should think he liked to have his own 
 way." 
 
 " I believe we began by talking of 
 pride of race," said Royston, interrupting 
 her meditations. " I am not sure it is not
 
 144 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 the want of a proper pride of race which 
 is partly at the bottom of what is un- 
 satisfactory about the Irish. A real 
 national self-respect would probably hold 
 them back from what is mean and des- 
 picable. Noblesse oblige — they have no 
 national feeling of that sort." 
 
 " Have they any real national feeling 
 at all?" asked Bell. " Perhaps that is 
 where the difficulty comes in. They seem 
 to be a collection of units with no real 
 cohesion. They want a union of hearts 
 among" themselves. Hatred of Cromwell 
 seems to be about the only feeling which 
 has ever united them all." 
 
 " A feeling with which I entirely sym- 
 pathize," said Royston, briskly, " although 
 I agree that a national hatred cannot take 
 the place of a national love, a common 
 devotion to king or country. The passion 
 of loyalty seems to be essentially refining 
 and ennobling to a nation. After all," he
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 145 
 
 broke off, with a laugh, " we are being 
 pretty rough on the Irish, are we not ? 
 There is no doubt they were abominably 
 treated in the past, and hadn't much of a 
 chance." 
 
 Bell laughed, too. 
 
 " I was only discussing them ' in the 
 aibstract,' " she said; "you know that is 
 supposed to be one of our national 
 peculiarities." 
 
 " No, there is no doubt whatever she 
 can swim," meditated Royston, "and I 
 fancy she has even forgotten once or twice 
 my original character of the 'deep sea.' 
 By Jove ! " His hands tightened on the 
 reins, as the whir of machinery fell on his 
 ears, and the mare suddenly swerved aside, 
 and then made a bound forward. 
 
 The reaping-machine had not fulfilled 
 
 Robert Maxwell's prognostications and gone 
 
 home to tea, but, as Mary had expected, it 
 
 had worked across the field to the side nearest 
 
 vol. 1. 10
 
 146 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 the road, and the mare, who did not under- 
 stand or approve of modern improvements, 
 as exemplified by machinery, had taken the 
 bit in her teeth and bolted. 
 
 "lam afraid we are in for it now, Miss 
 Graham," said Royston, as he strained his 
 utmost at the reins with no effect. " Sit 
 quiet, and don't attempt to jump out." 
 
 " Certainly," said Bell, quietly. " I shan't 
 move." 
 
 " You had better take hold of the rail at 
 the side, or of my arm," he said, as they 
 swung round a corner on one wheel. 
 
 " Perhaps, if I hold on to the reins too, 
 it may make a little difference," she said ; 
 "not much, I'm afraid." And she placed 
 two capable hands on the reins below where 
 he was gripping them. " Do you feel you 
 have any control at all ? " she asked, after a 
 minute. 
 
 " None whatever, as far as being able to 
 pull up is concerned," he answered ; " possibly
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 147 
 
 I may be able to guide her round corners, 
 and avoid a smash. Do we come to any 
 hill?" 
 
 "One little one round the next turn," 
 said Bell, " after that, it is down hill nearly 
 all the way." 
 
 Then both relapsed into silence, while the 
 mare tore on. The hill was, unluckily, a very 
 little one, and had no appreciable influence 
 on the mare's wind or limb. 
 
 11 Luckily, it is only about once in a week 
 there is anything to meet along this road," 
 said Bell. 
 
 " We might come up with the waggon- 
 ette," said Royston. 
 
 " Not unless we keep on longer than I 
 think we can without a smash," said Bell, 
 calmly. " They had a long start of us, and 
 the Kintocher pair are by way of being the 
 fastest in the county, and you were keeping 
 the mare very steady till now." 
 
 " How soon do we come to the steep hill
 
 148 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 leading down to the bridge across that little 
 river ? " inquired her companion. 
 
 " Two turns more," replied Bell briefly. 
 " I suppose you mean that is where we shall 
 finish ? You will not be able to get her 
 round the sharp turn at the bottom on to the 
 bridge ? " 
 
 He was silent a minute before he spoke. 
 
 " It's no use telling you untruths — be- 
 sides, you are as cool as I am. I don't see 
 how, with the impetus we shall put on going 
 down that hill, I am ever to turn the beast 
 suddenly to the left at the bottom." Then 
 he added, after a pause, " Is there not a gate 
 into a field at the turn at the top of that 
 hill ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Bell, "it was open, too, as 
 we came up." 
 
 " Perhaps, if I were to turn in there," he 
 said, "we might " 
 
 " Be thrown out on something soft," she 
 concluded.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 149 
 
 " I'll try for that," said Royston. 
 
 But, alas ! when they neared the gate, 
 one glance was enough. 
 
 " It's shut," said Bell. 
 
 And he answered nothing, but set his 
 teeth, and prepared for one supreme effort. 
 
 At the bottom of the steep hill the road 
 turned suddenly to the left, crossed the 
 bridge, and then turned as suddenly to the 
 right again ; that any run-away horse and 
 vehicle, first descending the hill, could get 
 safely round the corner to the bridge, and 
 then up the other side, was practically im- 
 possible. 
 
 They descended with frightful speed, Bell 
 finding time for a quick speculation as to 
 whether they were likely to be flung over the 
 low stone parapet of the bridge into the river 
 below. She had made a sort of mental pre- 
 paration for the trap to be overset on the 
 near-side, when there was a shock — they had 
 driven into a hedge, the trap had capsized on
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 the off-side, and she found herself lying on 
 something which seemed softer than she ex- 
 pected, and which she realized in a dazed 
 way was Royston. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" he inquired, anxiously, 
 when a process of disentanglement had been 
 gone through. 
 
 " I don't think I can be," said Bell, 
 sitting by the roadside, and feeling a good 
 deal more confused and dizzy than she ever 
 remembered to have done before. " But — 
 but that wasn't the way I thought it was 
 going to happen." 
 
 " No," he said, winding his handkerchief 
 round his left hand and wrist, which were 
 cut and bleeding ; " but it seemed the best 
 thing to do. If we had cannoned off the 
 corner of the bridge, it would have been a 
 harder place to come down on, and you 
 would have been under ; driving into the 
 hedge on the other side before we came to 
 the bridge, we upset the other way. It
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 151 
 
 seemed the best thing to do. But are you 
 sure you are not hurt ? " 
 
 " I suppose I am what people call 
 'shaken.'" said Bell, ''but I don't seem 
 broken. How can I be when you broke 
 the fall ? You are hurt." 
 
 " I am not broken, either," he said ; 
 " only bruised. My hand, to be sure, is 
 not pretty, but I won't bleed to death. 
 Now it's over, I may say I never thought 
 we should get off so easily." 
 
 He turned his attention to the mare, 
 which, after the fashion of her kind, having 
 done all the mischief she could, had sud- 
 denly stopped stock still, and composedly 
 allowed herself to be disentangled from 
 the remains of the trap. The amount of 
 damage done to the latter appeared, on 
 examination, to be one wheel off, and one 
 shaft broken. 
 
 Royston surveyed the remains rather 
 ruefully.
 
 152 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I never had to return another man's 
 property to him in this state before/' he 
 said. 
 
 " It serves the other man right," said 
 Bell, with decision ; " he had no business 
 to fetch out such a beast to-day at all. Oh, 
 you needn't mind about the smash ; he does 
 it too often himself to trouble if someone 
 else helps him once in a way." And she 
 rose to her feet, and began to shake off the 
 dust that adhered to her. 
 
 " What are we to do now ? " Royston 
 asked, doubtfully. 
 
 Bell looked surprised. 
 
 "Walk home, I suppose," she replied, 
 " and lead the horse." 
 
 " But you — are you able ? " he said. 
 '" Surely, we have a long way to go yet ?" 
 
 " Five miles," said Bell ; " the milestone 
 is just round the corner." 
 
 " But— can you walk as far ? " 
 
 Bell laughed.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 153 
 
 " What kind of girls are you used to, 
 Mr. Royston ? " she said. 
 
 "Well," he answered, "I'm not very 
 much used to girls at all, and the only one 
 I know well could not walk five miles to 
 save her life." 
 
 "Ah!" said Bell, "perhaps that is the 
 rosebud you alluded to. But, you see, you 
 settled I was a thistle." And, with a final 
 shake of her garments, she prepared to 
 start. 
 
 They had done four miles of their return 
 journey, and were nearing the keeper's 
 cottage, where Bell had been picked up in 
 the morning, when they perceived Mary 
 Jamieson and Mr. Syme approaching. 
 
 " I knew something had happened," 
 cried Mary, directly they got within speak- 
 ing distance ; " but nobody would believe 
 me. Robert Maxwell would say it was all 
 right if the world were at an end, and 
 everything coming down about one's ears.
 
 154 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 But Mr. Syme came up the road with me 
 — and are you hurt ? What happened ? " 
 
 The adventure was related, and Mary, 
 having satisfied herself that neither was 
 seriously injured, insisted that Bell should 
 come back with her to dinner. But Bell 
 declined. 
 
 " No, I shall take the short cut home 
 here," she said ; " my aunts will expect me. 
 Mr. Royston can apologize to Mr. Maxwell 
 for his horse nearly killing the two of us." 
 
 Mr. Syme intimated he must be going 
 home, too, and would accompany Bell back 
 to the village. So, with a change of 
 cavaliers, the two girls proceeded on their 
 separate ways.
 
 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 " Miss Bell is quite well, sir ; and will you 
 walk in, if you please." 
 
 Royston had strolled down to Nether 
 Kintocher to inquire, as in duty bound, for 
 the health of his companion in misfortune 
 of the previous day. He had had no 
 intention of going beyond the door, not 
 supposing such a literal "morning call" 
 would be admissible ; but the rosy-cheeked 
 damsel who acted as house and table- 
 maid to the Miss Wardlaws did not 
 see the point of a visitor coming to the 
 door only to walk away again ; and par- 
 ticularly when the visitor was " a lad." " A 
 [i55]
 
 156 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 lad" would be, of course, a "diversion" 
 to Miss Bell, and with a praiseworthy 
 desire to do as she would be done by, she 
 repeated her invitation — " They're all in, 
 sir, and will you just walk in, if you 
 please." 
 
 And, accordingly, he walked in. 
 
 The ladies were in the parlour, and 
 apparently all well occupied. Miss Ward- 
 law, with some bills before her, was making 
 arithmetical calculations ; Bell, on the 
 opposite side of the table, was immersed in 
 an exercise book and a Latin grammar ; 
 while Miss Lizzie was, as on a previous 
 occasion, plying her needle. She grasped 
 convulsively at her work, as Royston was 
 announced, but remembering there was no 
 valid reason why a table-cloth should be 
 concealed from male eyes, she stuck her 
 needle in the neat darn in a reassured way, 
 and rose to receive the visitor. 
 
 " I did not mean to come in," he
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 157 
 
 apologized, " I had only intended to inquire 
 how Miss Graham is to-day." 
 
 " Perfectly well," said Bell ; " how is 
 your hand ? " 
 
 " Recovering rapidly," he said, " much 
 aided by court-plaister extensively applied 
 by Mrs. Jamieson." 
 
 " It is just a providence," said Miss 
 Lizzie, " that you were not both killed." 
 
 " Miss Graham kept her head splen- 
 didly," observed Royston. " Most ladies 
 would have screamed, or tried to jump 
 out." 
 
 " Oh, there are plenty of fools, no 
 doubt," said Miss Grace, " though how even 
 a fool can expect screaming and skirling to 
 help is more than I can say. But we have 
 our thanks to give you for the way you 
 guided that daft brute of Mr. Maxwell's. 
 Not that I would say she was any dafter 
 than her master. It's a marvel to me he 
 is alive, and with whole legs and arms on
 
 *5 8 A SCOTS THISTLE 
 
 him, driving and riding about the country 
 side the way he does." 
 
 "He was very good natured about the 
 •smash of his trap, anyhow," said Royston ; 
 "treated it as a joke, and despatched a man 
 with a cart to fetch home the bits." 
 
 " It was well it was not your bits the 
 cart had to go for," said Miss Grace, 
 grimly. 
 
 " I think he felt that himself," returned 
 Royston. 
 
 "Are you making anything of a stay at 
 Kintocher ? " inquired Miss Lizzie. 
 
 " I had fully intended leaving to- 
 morrow," he answered, " but Mrs. Jamieson 
 is very hospitable and insists on my re- 
 maining longer. This neighbourhood 
 tempts me, too ; it offers capital material 
 for the work I'm on just now. I don't 
 think, for instance, Dunfechan can possibly 
 be exhausted under two articles ; and then 
 the romance and interest that clings to
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 159 
 
 Loch Erich ought to work up into some- 
 thing." 
 
 All three ladies looked puzzled. 
 
 " I don't know that I understand," said 
 Miss Grace; "you are in the army?" 
 
 "I?" he smiled. " Oh, no; I am in 
 — what shall I say? — literature, journalism. 
 Amongst other things, I have done the war 
 correspondence for the Morning Telephone. 
 At present there is no suitable little war 
 for me to report on, and I am wandering at 
 my own sweet will. The work I spoke of 
 just now is some articles on Scotland that 
 are appearing in the Telephone" 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said Miss Lizzie, " I — I 
 see." 
 
 But, indeed, she scarcely did ; she had 
 not in the course of her quiet life come in 
 contact with many of those who tread the 
 paths of journalism or literature. She was 
 puzzled where to place this young man, 
 and her mind travelled in a confused way
 
 160 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 to the reporter of the Dunfechan Weekly 
 Press, whom she had on one or two 
 occasions observed at concerts in the 
 Dunfechan Music Hall. 
 
 Miss Grace calmly carried on the 
 conversation. 
 
 " That will be an interesting occupation, 
 I daresay," she said; " are you kept in 
 pretty steady employment ?" 
 
 Royston's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " Pretty fair," he said. 
 
 Bell had been sitting in a sort of silent 
 confusion, most unusual in her, since he 
 announced his profession. 
 
 "You are — you are ' F. N. Royston ? ' 
 she said. 
 
 He looked a little surprised at the tone 
 of humility, but answered, with a smile, 
 " ' F. N. Royston ; ' very much at your 
 service." 
 
 " I had made up my mind," continued 
 Bell in an apologetic way which he did not
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. i6t 
 
 comprehend, M that you were in the army 
 — even before Mary reminded me about 
 your having saved Dick's life, and then, 
 of course, I made sure you were. I beg 
 your pardon." 
 
 " I was the Telephones Special during 
 that campaign," he returned ; " but, as to 
 saving Jamieson's life, they made too much 
 of that : it was simply a matter of firing my 
 revolver once, with no sort of danger to 
 myself." 
 
 " At all events, to Dick it was a matter 
 of life or death," said Bell, with really per- 
 fect unconsciousness that his views on the 
 matter were the same as those she had 
 expressed to Mary, and that she was now 
 combating them. 
 
 " I don't know," he said, changing the 
 subject, " why you begged my pardon for 
 mistaking me for a soldier." 
 
 "Oh," said Bell, disdainfully, "anybody 
 can be a soldier. What sort of intellect dc 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 162 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 you want for that ! And — and I know now 
 it was you who wrote that article in last 
 month's End of the Century, that all the 
 newspapers noticed, and " 
 
 He broke in with a laugh. "Ah, Miss 
 Graham, I'm afraid you don't know much 
 about modern army exams., or you would 
 not be so sure that intellect is not wanted. 
 And, then, how about commanding an army 
 and conducting a campaign ? It rather 
 hurts me, too, that you should speak dis- 
 dainfully of the Service ; I have so many 
 friends, capital fellows, in it." 
 
 11 My niece, Bell," said Miss Grace, 
 composedly, " is sometimes just too ready to 
 talk havers. She forgets she is young, and 
 has not had much experience." 
 
 "But that," added Miss Lizzie, kindly, 
 as she saw a pucker coming on Bell's brow, 
 " will always be mending." 
 
 Royston had risen to take leave. 
 
 " I hope you have forgiven my early
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 163 
 
 intrusion," he said. "It was very good of 
 you to admit me." 
 
 "You are just very welcome," said Miss 
 Lizzie, " and we are obliged to you for 
 your attention in coming to ask after Bell." 
 
 "Although," said Miss Grace, "it would 
 be more like if Robert Maxwell had had 
 the grace to come and see if his daft beast 
 had, maybe, done more harm than appeared 
 yesterday." 
 
 And therewith the visitor departed. 
 
 "Why didn't Aggie or Mary ever say 
 who he really was ? " said Bell, sitting down 
 before her Latin again, and running her 
 fingers recklessly through her hair. 
 
 "What is he, exactly, my dear?" asked 
 Miss Lizzie. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Lizzie," said Bell, " he writes 
 things in magazines — clever things, signed, 
 1 F. N. Royston.' And I never put two 
 and two together, and thought it was him. 
 And you heard he does the war corre-
 
 i6 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 spondence for the Morning Telephone, And 
 what were Aggie and Mary about that 
 they didn't say so ? Not even the time 
 that Dick nearly got killed." 
 
 " Is it stories he writes ? " inquired Miss 
 Grace. 
 
 " Oh, no, Aunt Grace, not stories ; 
 articles, you know — clever sort of things 
 about " 
 
 " Oh, well," said Miss Grace, " in that 
 case, I would not say Aggie or Mary had 
 ever troubled their heads to read them. 
 And as to Dick, they were away at the 
 time that happened, so it was just a letter 
 you got about it, and they would not put 
 everything in that. It is your way of 
 rushing at conclusions that is to blame. 
 That is," she added, "if there is any blame 
 in the matter, for I cannot see any harm 
 has been done." 
 
 "Oh, but," said Bell, " I thought he was 
 just an officer that didn't know much about
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 165 
 
 anything ; and he must have thought me 
 a — a forward goose." 
 
 " I would not say," said Miss Grace, can- 
 didly, " that there are not times when that 
 might be a fair enough judgment to pass on 
 you, my dear." 
 
 "Though I told him some things that 
 were true enough, too," added Bell, in self- 
 defence. 
 
 " Don't put yourself about, Bell, my 
 dear," said Miss Lizzie; "I think Mr. Roy- 
 ston is not the kind of man to think ill of 
 you. I have formed a very good opinion of 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Lizzie," cried Bell, with a 
 laugh, as she jumped up to help in folding 
 the table-cloth, which was now mended ; 
 " when did you ever do anything else about 
 anybody ? " 
 
 Mr. Maxwell slightly redeemed his cha- 
 racter by calling later in the day to inquire 
 for Miss Graham, and to receive from Miss
 
 1 66 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 Wardlaw some brief and trenchant criticisms 
 on the escapade of the mare, and on the per- 
 formances of his " daft beasts " in general. 
 All of which he took with undisturbed good- 
 humour. 
 
 And, subsequently, Mr. Wilson made his 
 appearance. The poor man was rather 
 cowed, and not quite sure what treatment to 
 expect at the hands of Bell. But she was 
 always kinder to him when in the presence of 
 her aunts, knowing instinctively that their 
 views did not coincide with those of Mrs. 
 Jamieson, and that, therefore, she could be 
 civil to him without any danger of compro- 
 mising herself. Besides, to tell the truth, 
 she was a little ashamed of her conduct of 
 the day before, and the way in which her 
 headstrong flight to the top of the Castle had 
 undoubtedly imperilled his life as well as 
 her own. 
 
 So she was civil, and the minister gradu- 
 ally recovered his equanimity and discussed
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 167 
 
 the accident and Miss Graham's fortunate 
 escape ; though he was careful not to allude 
 to the earlier events of the day. And then, 
 all having interchanged views on the burning 
 subject of the new precentor, he departed, 
 with hope again rising like a phcenix from 
 the ashes. Decidedly, it would have been 
 better for him, poor man, had Miss Graham 
 done as Royston in an unguarded moment 
 advised — " heard him out somewhere on 
 terra jirma, like a sensible girl, and put 
 him out of his misery decently." 
 
 Kintocher Glen was a well-known and 
 i:>icturesque spot through which the Kin- 
 tocher burn meandered for some half-mile 
 or so. The glen was within the "policies," 
 forming part of the pleasure-ground of Kin- 
 tocher House, and so was private from the 
 village folk. But the Miss Wardlaws and 
 their niece had been, so to speak, presented 
 with its freedom by Mrs. Jamieson— a free- 
 dom of which Bell, at least, took every
 
 168 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 advantage. Indeed, there were few summer 
 days on which, at some time or other, she 
 could not have been found in the glen. It 
 was a convenient spot for meditation, and for 
 transcribing to paper the results of medi- 
 tation. The last was a private pursuit of 
 Bell's, and one which she generally found 
 she could carry on in the glen without fear 
 of interruption. 
 
 She appeared there next morning carry- 
 ing a bundle, which, upon examination, would 
 have resolved itself into a manuscript book, 
 a very large and ancient pocket-book bulging 
 with papers, and an automatic copying-pencil. 
 She walked straight up the glen towards the 
 spot which she generally affected — a circular 
 rustic seat surrounding an old fir-tree by the 
 side of the burn. She had nearly reached 
 it before she observed that someone was 
 already there and was occupying part of the 
 seat on the opposite side of the tree. 
 
 " Mr. Royston," she said, in a tone of
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 169 
 
 surprise and slight annoyance, as she realized 
 that gentleman had taken possession of her 
 own- particular composing ground ; and it 
 almost appeared for the same purpose, for, 
 as he rose and took his hat off, he deposited 
 on the seat some slips of paper and a stylo- 
 graphic pen. 
 
 " Were you coming here ? " he asked, 
 politely, perhaps detecting a glance of dis- 
 satisfaction. " Am I in the way ? If so, 
 please tell me, and I can easily go further 
 afield. The fact is, Maxwell appeared this 
 morning to practise some new songs. And,, 
 though Miss Jamieson was putting him 
 through his paces in the drawing-room, and 
 I was behind closed doors in the library — 
 well, you know what a — er — well-developed 
 voice he has ? " 
 
 Bell laughed. 
 
 " I found it was interfering materially 
 with the style of the copy I was turning out. 
 So, at last, out of consideration for the feel-
 
 170 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 ings of the editor of the Telephone, I seized 
 my hat and effected my escape." 
 
 " Please, don't move," said Bell, disarmed. 
 " You will find this a good place to write. I 
 often come here to " 
 
 " Write ? " he suggested, as she paused, 
 and his eyes fell on what she carried in her 
 hands. 
 
 She positively blushed and looked shy, 
 and he watched her half amused ; it was a 
 phase he was not prepared for. He did not 
 know he was the first person to discover her 
 literary aspirations. 
 
 " It is only scribbling," she said, in a 
 deprecating way. Was she not addressing the 
 war correspondent of the Morning Telephone 
 and the writer of articles in the End of the 
 Century ? 
 
 " Only scribbling," he repeated ; " now, I 
 wonder what you exactly mean by that." 
 
 11 I mean," said Bell, slowly trying to ex- 
 press herself with accuracy and modesty, " I
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 171 
 
 try to put down things that come into my 
 head." 
 
 " Precisely my own case," he said, " I, 
 also, am a scribbler." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Bell, with a half-indignant 
 wave of her hand, " I don't mean that. I 
 don't mean to compare myself to you. Why, 
 you write all these things that are printed ; I 
 — I only scribble." 
 
 Royston smiled. 
 
 " Do you know, Miss Graham, that is 
 rather a curious definition of yours, and one 
 I can't agree with ? I write, because I pro- 
 duce ' things that are printed ; ' you scribble, 
 because, as I gather, your productions have 
 not yet seen the light in print. I demur to 
 that sort of classification altogether ; un- 
 luckily, I have read a good deal of printed 
 matter which I cannot feel owed its existence 
 to anyone who could write!' 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Bell, " I know ; and that 
 is what I mean. That is just what you
 
 i/2 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 would think about my scribbles if they were 
 printed." 
 
 She was a puzzling young person this, 
 reflected Royston ; she could be sufficiently 
 upsetting and dogmatic, and yet she was 
 evidently capable of the most absolute 
 modesty, and self-depreciation. And was it 
 the fact that they had together faced a serious 
 danger, or the discovery she had yesterday 
 made of his real profession, which had 
 caused this undefined but undoubted change 
 in her attitude towards him. 
 
 He asked a straightforward question. 
 
 " Why did you object to me so much 
 more while you thought I was in the 
 army ? " 
 
 He guessed instinctively she would not 
 reply with the ordinary feminine fence of, 
 " How do you know I do object to you less 
 now r 
 
 " Soldiers," said Bell, with magnificent 
 young contempt, " are generally frivolous."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 173 
 
 He laughed involuntarily. " Have you 
 known many ? " 
 
 " Dick Jamieson has constantly army 
 friends here while he is at home," she 
 replied. 
 
 " Ah," he said, " and do you think, Miss 
 Graham, it is quite fair to judge of any 
 profession as a whole by specimens selected 
 by one man ? " 
 
 Bell looked at him in silence for a 
 moment. 
 
 " I see what you mean," she said. " I 
 had not thought of that before." 
 
 " Mind," he said, " don't misunderstand 
 .me. I think Jamieson a very good straight- 
 forward fellow ; but, perhaps, he and the 
 friends he chooses may not be exactly the 
 type you prefer." 
 
 " I believe," said Bell, continuing her 
 own reflections aloud, " I am too apt to rush 
 to conclusions — my aunts have told me 
 .that — and I form prejudices, unfounded
 
 i 7 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 prejudices. That," she concluded, judicially, 
 " is a sign of a small mind." 
 
 "And that," added, Royston, quietly, "is 
 a reflection a small mind would be in- 
 capable of making." 
 
 He was not sure if she had heard him. 
 She was regarding the opposite side of the 
 burn with knitted brows. 
 
 "Won't you sit down?" he said. "I 
 can see this is your usual spot. I will go 
 farther on, and you will not be interrupted." 
 
 "Oh, no," said Bell, "that would not be 
 fair ; you were here first." 
 
 He paused. " On condition you remain 
 too. I decline to be accessory to checking 
 anyone putting down the thoughts which 
 come into her head." 
 
 Bell sat down. She would much rather 
 have wandered up the side of the glen and 
 perched herself in solitude on an old log 
 of which she knew, but probably that would 
 be rude. She sat down, but with the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 175 
 
 certainty that that morning she would pro- 
 duce no thoughts to commit to paper. 
 
 Her companion appeared to have no 
 such difficulty ; he picked up his slips of 
 paper and his pen, and wrote steadily. 
 Presently he paused, read what he had 
 written, making some amendments and 
 corrections, and then, folding up his papers, 
 he put them in his pocket, and turned to 
 Bell. 
 
 " I am afraid I have done it," he said. 
 
 " Done what?" 
 
 "Checked the flow of your inspiration." 
 
 11 I don't think I had any inspiration," 
 said Bell, who seemed in an altogether 
 surprisingly humble frame of mind ; " but 
 I believe you did make me begin to think 
 about something else." 
 
 " And that was ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I was wondering," she said, looking at 
 him in a searching meditative way — rather 
 more as if he were an interesting object in
 
 1 76 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 natural history than a human man, " how 
 you began — to write, I mean. Were you 
 .educated for it ?" 
 
 He smiled a little. 
 
 " Do you want an outline of my personal 
 history ? " 
 
 " If you do not mind," said Bell, gravely, 
 ■" I should like to know how you began to 
 write." 
 
 " I think I must spare you an account 
 of the brilliant productions of my earlier 
 years," he said, lightly ; " but you want to 
 know if I was educated with a view to 
 scribbling. I like your word. Well, no ; I 
 was educated for the Bar. The army was 
 my own natural inclination. Have I gone 
 down a peg again ? " with a little flash of 
 sarcasm at his neighbour. " But my father 
 disliked the idea. I am an only son — only 
 child, indeed. My father is a clergyman, my 
 mother died when I was quite young. My 
 father looked upon the army as meaning
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 177 
 
 probable exile to the other side of the 
 world for ten years at a time. So I dropped 
 the idea, and went in for the Bar, as he 
 wished. At least, I went in for it so far as 
 to eat my dinners and get myself called — 
 but I never had a brief in my life, Miss 
 Graham. To tell the truth, I never wished 
 for one. I began to — scribble, and the 
 scribblings got into print. And then came 
 my chance as Special for the Telephone in 
 that campaign of which you wot. Theo- 
 retically, I knew a good deal about soldiering; 
 you see I had gone into the subject well 
 when I set my heart on adopting it as my 
 profession. So I got through that job pretty 
 well. I had the Egyptian one, too ; and 
 since then the Telephone and I have stuck 
 to one another." 
 
 "But you write in the magazines, too," 
 said Bell. 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said, "one thing leads to 
 another. Now, is that not enough about 
 vol. 1. 12
 
 178 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 myself? Suppose you return the compli- 
 ment by telling me how you began to 
 scribble." 
 
 "I?" said Bell. "Oh, I scribble— just 
 as girls do, you know." 
 
 " But I don't," he returned ; " I never 
 knew a girl who did. Do all girls scribble ? 
 
 I only know one well, and she " he 
 
 laughed, " I am sure she could not write 
 anything but rather incoherent letters, con- 
 taining few capitals and no punctuation." 
 
 "Who is she?" asked Bell. 
 
 " My cousin, Rose Royston. She lives 
 with my father ; she came to us ten years 
 ago when her parents died. But, to return 
 — do the Miss Jamiesons, for instance, 
 scribble ? " 
 
 "Well, no," said Bell. 
 
 " Then, pardon me, you can scarcely 
 scribble 'just as all girls do.' Supposing," 
 he suggested, audaciously, " you were to 
 allow me to have some scribbles to read."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 179 
 
 Bell instinctively clutched the bulky- 
 pocket-book ; but after a moment her 
 grasp relaxed, and she looked at him with 
 an expression of doubt and anxious inquiry. 
 
 " I wonder " she said. 
 
 " Whether I am to be trusted," he 
 suggested. " Absolutely. I should not tell 
 a soul." 
 
 "No one has ever read anything I have 
 written," pursued Bell, in a meditative way ; 
 41 I cannot judge of my own things. You 
 could." 
 
 She opened the ancient leather recep- 
 tacle, and selected sundry papers. 
 
 " I will read them this evening," said 
 Royston, holding out his hand to receive 
 them, " and I will bring them down to 
 Nether Kintocher to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Bell, quickly. " I mean, 
 my aunts don't know either, and — could you 
 not come here about the same time, and I 
 will come and fetch the papers, and,
 
 180 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 perhaps, you will tell me what you think of 
 them ?" 
 
 "Certainly," he assented gravely, and 
 lifted his hat, as she, having gathered up 
 her remaining properties, hurried off down 
 the glen. 
 
 He looked after her reflectively. 
 
 " This young person," he murmured, 
 "has now, in the innocence of her heart, 
 given me an assignation. I always thought 
 the human race an interesting study, but I 
 have not devoted any time to the genus 
 young girl. I thought," and he absently 
 fingered a small gold locket, which hung 
 from his watch chain, " I thought it un- 
 interesting. I have been mistaken."
 
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 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Bell had beaten that hasty retreat from 
 the glen, partly from an undefined feeling 
 that, if she remained, she would request the 
 return of her papers. In some degree she 
 repented the impulse which had led her to 
 accede to Royston's request. No one had 
 ever seen her compositions ; and what an 
 extraordinary thing it was, she reflected, 
 that now she had permitted human eyes to 
 rest upon them, they should be those of 
 the man whom she had originally re- 
 garded with a sort of contemptuous dis- 
 like. And she was not by any means 
 sure she liked him yet, although the 
 [181]
 
 182 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 contempt — yes, certainly, the contempt had 
 gone. 
 
 But, then, he himself wrote. He would 
 be able to criticize ; it seemed an oppor- 
 tunity which should not be thrown away ; 
 she wanted to know what the outside 
 world would be likely to think of these 
 efforts of hers. And yet — and yet, in her 
 heart, she was just a little bit afraid of the 
 verdict she might read in those keen grey 
 eyes, and of the sarcasm that might lurk 
 somewhere about that masterful mouth. 
 And she dreamed uncomfortable dreams 
 that night of the Telephones special, and 
 woke in the morning feeling that an ordeal 
 lay before her. 
 
 11 Where are you off to this morning, 
 Bell ? " asked Miss Lizzie, when she looked 
 into the parlour, dressed for walking. 
 
 " Up the glen," said Bell. 
 
 She had told her aunts of her meeting 
 with Royston yesterday, and would have told
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 183 
 
 them of her appointment to-day, only that 
 would have involved the betrayal of her 
 literary secret. Bell was not a fool, nor 
 ignorant of the usages of the world ; had it 
 been Dick Jamieson, or one of his ordinary 
 friends, an appointment in the glen would 
 certainly never have been made ; but in con- 
 nection with Royston she had lost sight of 
 every fact but that he was a writer — he had 
 an accredited place in the literary world — she 
 had never had the chance of knowing such 
 an one before, and she greatly desired, al- 
 though she also feared, his counsel and 
 criticism. And it is best at once to do Roy- 
 ston the justice of saying he fully realized 
 this, and, indeed, probably would not else 
 have appeared at the tryst. 
 
 " Have I kept you waiting ? " Bell asked, 
 as she met him and shook hands. 
 
 " No," he said, " I think we must both be 
 of a virtuously punctual disposition ; I only 
 preceded you by three minutes."
 
 i8 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I see you have my papers," said Bell, 
 with an outward composure, which was not 
 reproduced inwardly. 
 
 "I have the papers," he repeated, "and 
 I have also read, marked, and inwardly 
 digested them. You wish the result ? " 
 
 " I shall be obliged if you will tell me 
 what you think," said Bell, with a certain 
 stateliness, as she sat down. 
 
 A flash of amusement passed over his 
 face. 
 
 "Which end shall we begin at?" 
 he asked, turning over the papers in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Which end ? " she repeated. 
 
 " Praise or blame." 
 
 "Blame," said Bell, firmly, and she 
 straightened herself, and threw back her 
 shoulders, presumably preparing for the 
 burden to be laid upon them. 
 
 "Yes, I think that a good plan," he said, 
 quietly, and he picked out one or two small
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 185 
 
 bundles from among the rest. " These," he 
 said, " I do not like." 
 
 Bell took them, and her face fell. They 
 were rather cherished productions — articles 
 on various social themes, written certainly 
 with some smartness, and the result probably 
 of readings in some of the more brilliant 
 and slashing weeklies. 
 
 "Will you tell me why you don't like 
 them, please ? " she said. " Is it the style ?" 
 
 "No," he said ; "the style is promising 
 — distinctly promising ; but why should you 
 write of things you don't understand ? " 
 
 " Things I don't understand," said Bell, 
 blankly. 
 
 " Yes. Fashionable follies, vices — what- 
 ever you like to call them. Society needs 
 plenty of lashing, but it's no use striking at 
 the wrong place. This, for instance," pick- 
 ing out one paper, " comes perilously near 
 being nonsense, simply from want of know- 
 ledge. And yet," he added, "there is some
 
 186 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 very pretty shooting here, too, if it had only 
 been aimed at the right target. But all this 
 lot are crude — smart, I grant you, but crude, 
 hopelessly crude. Why don't you write these 
 sort of articles about the things and people 
 here — about what you know?" He turned 
 to the discomfited authoress, and, looking in 
 her face, he repented him of his uncompro- 
 mising severity. " I think," he said, " I have 
 been heartlessly administering a nasty pow- 
 der without any jam. But I believe you are 
 a woman capable of taking a powder plain." 
 
 Bell laughed bravely, and recovered 
 herself. 
 
 "At least," she said, "now you have 
 given me a spoonful of jam to take after." 
 
 He smiled. " Am I to go on ? " 
 
 " Yes, please," 
 
 "Well, now, we come to fiction," he said, 
 taking up another bundle. " I think you 
 might make something of this ; the leading 
 idea is good, but you have too many
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 187 
 
 smaller ideas branching off for a short 
 story — it wants boiling down. There are 
 some clever sketches of character, but, at 
 least, three of them you have introduced 
 simply for that reason, they have nothing to 
 do with your story. You can't afford to do 
 that in a short story, Miss Graham. Your 
 canvas is overcrowded, and you have spoilt 
 your perspective. Cut them out." 
 
 " I thought the character sketches were 
 the best bit of that," said Bell in a depressed 
 tone. 
 
 "They are matter in the wrong place 
 here," said Royston, calmly, "and that is not 
 a thing you can ever describe as ' best.' Cut 
 them out — you can use them again with 
 another background." 
 
 " I suppose," said Bell, dismally gazing 
 down into the burn, " that I have never 
 written anything that was a bit right — and, 
 probably, I never shall. I have never had 
 anyone to tell me. I am very much obliged
 
 1 88 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 to you for telling me now — but I suppose 
 once won't do me much good. Would you 
 mind just telling me one thing more ? " she 
 said, bracing herself for a final blow. " And, 
 please, be quite truthful as you have been. 
 Do you think it is any good my trying to do 
 better ? Do you think I might in time ? Or 
 had I better quite give it up ? " 
 
 Royston did not respond to the appeal. 
 He had picked up the last batch of manu- 
 script, and was turning it over. 
 
 " I have not quite finished my task," he 
 said, in a dry tone ; " I have yet another 
 criticism to give, truthfully." 
 
 "Oh, that," said Bell, " I wrote it all in 
 one morning. I didn't think it out, or 
 arrange it, or anything. It just came into 
 my head and I wrote it down, that was all." 
 
 "Exactly," said Royston; "so I should 
 have imagined. It is perfectly charming." 
 
 Bell positively started. 
 
 " Here you are in your own country,
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 189 
 
 among your own people. There is the 
 scent of heather, the smell of fresh High- 
 land air about it. There is the spirit of 
 those forefathers of yours who died for 
 The Cause, as you told me, all through it. 
 Here is bonnie Prince Charlie, as he lived 
 in loyal Scots hearts ; and here are the 
 men who died for him — yes, and the women 
 who would have done it right willingly, 
 too. Now, Miss Graham, here you have 
 your canvas, the right size ; on it you have 
 painted a delightful background of hills and 
 heather, and, in the foreground, you have 
 touched in just the right number of figures 
 for a simple and pathetic story of devotion 
 unto death. A story over which last night 
 I — let my pipe go out." 
 
 Bell had turned round on the seat and 
 was looking at him, eyes shining and cheeks 
 crimson. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "are you — are you sure 
 you mean that ? "
 
 190 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " I prefaced my last remarks with the 
 observation that I was going to criticize 
 truthfully," he said with a smile. 
 
 Bell turned away. It was approbation, 
 indeed, and from one who was competent 
 to bestow it. There was something like 
 dew about the shining eyes when she looked 
 round again. 
 
 " Then, you think that " 
 
 " I think," he said, " I am going to ask 
 you a favour. May I keep this MS., and 
 take it back to town with me ? I should 
 like to show it to the editor of the Hyde 
 Park Magazine, and I have no sort of 
 doubt what the result will be." 
 
 "You are very good," said Bell, "I 
 don't feel that I know how to thank 
 you." 
 
 To see something she had herself 
 written in print — in a real magazine ! For 
 a moment she wondered did the world hold 
 more of bliss.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 191 
 
 " Shall I finish by giving a little general 
 good advice ? " asked her mentor. 
 
 "Yes, please." 
 
 " Be natural ; write like yourself, don't 
 try to write like other people. In these, 
 which I first criticized, I see the distinct 
 influence of the National Nagger. In this 
 story, I should fancy you were suffering 
 from a course of Pryce Brown. But in the 
 little Jacobite tale — you told me yourself 
 how you did it — it came into your head, and 
 you wrote it down. Observe as much as 
 you can, both people and things, and make 
 notes of the ideas that strike you — but don't 
 try to be clever. Let it come naturally, 
 you are quite quick and sharp enough. 
 Why," he broke off abruptly, "how old are 
 you r 
 
 " I shall be nineteen next birthday," 
 said Bell. 
 
 " Ah," he said, with a smile, " I begin 
 to tell my age the other way — I was thirty
 
 192 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 last birthday. Well, you have plenty of 
 time before you, Miss Graham ; and if you 
 have made up your mind to tread the 
 thorny paths of literature, I wish you luck. 
 What about our respective luncheons ? " 
 
 " I expect I ought to go," said Bell, 
 jumping up, and beginning to collect the 
 manuscripts scattered on the seat. 
 
 "I am to be entrusted with ' Donald's 
 Faith,' remember," said Royston. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Bell, smiling, " and 
 do you think it is worth while trying to 
 alter the other story as you said ? I sup- 
 pose it might be good practice, might it 
 not ? " 
 
 " I think it would." 
 
 "And — might I show it to you when it 
 is done ? " 
 
 "Certainly, if you will be so good. I 
 foresee we are to have more literary 
 meetings in the glen." 
 
 " It will be very kind if you will come
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 193 
 
 sometimes and tell me things," said Bell, 
 earnestly. 
 
 And, with this vague general appoint- 
 ment, they parted. 
 
 Royston strolled back to the " big 
 hoose " in contemplative mood. 
 
 " This is altogether an unexpected 
 experience," he reflected. "The embryo 
 authoress is distinctly interesting. She 
 would be interesting even with the literary 
 aspirations left out. A curious mixture, 
 sometimes young, sometimes old. Crude 
 in some of her ideas, and yet how she 
 talked as we drove home the other day. 
 And now this little bit of work I have in 
 my pocket- — why, there are men and women 
 who have made their names, who might be 
 proud to have written it. I wonder now — 
 I wonder what she will become — if any- 
 thing. Marry, probably," with a sarcastic 
 twist of his mouth, " and take to the en- 
 livening occupations of ' suckling fools and 
 — vol. 1. 13
 
 T 9 4 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 chronicling small beer.' No more aspira- 
 tions then. It seems a pity, too," proceeded 
 this enlightened critic, " for there are plenty 
 of other girls who are obviously cut out 
 for nothing but marriage and domestic 
 duties — warming their husbands' slippers 
 for them, and presenting them with periodic 
 babies. Oh, yes, girls enough and to spare 
 for that sort of thing. And this one, I really 
 think she might make something of a mark 
 on the world if she escaped the common 
 fate and had a decent chance. There is 
 Rosie, now ; of course, she will make a nice 
 little wife, and one doesn't need to feel one 
 is wasting her in that capacity. But Miss 
 Graham — it seems a pity. The minister ? 
 No, the unlucky man hasn't a chance. 
 Jamieson ? Well, I suppose my friend, 
 Dick, either has fallen in love with her 
 already or will do so at some period in the 
 future ; but I cannot fancy her marrying 
 him either. The happy man may exist in
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 195 
 
 the neighbourhood, but I scarcely think I 
 have met him. Well, it's no business of 
 mine. I can dispense literary instruction 
 and criticism while I remain, and I suppose 
 her future is in her own hands. Meantime, 
 I want my lunch." 
 
 Royston remained at Kintocher much 
 longer than he had intended. Dick Jamie- 
 son wrote home he was going to get some 
 leave, and his mother immediately decided 
 that his friend must remain till he came. 
 To tell the truth, setting aside the fact that 
 the one had saved the life of the other, 
 their friendship was of a casual sort ; but 
 the Jamiesons had made up their minds it 
 must be of the most close and cordial 
 description. 
 
 Kintocher, though an entirely feminine 
 house for the time, was not an unpleasant 
 one for a solitary man to stop in. There 
 was perfect liberty : pipes and cigars were 
 looked upon with absolute indifference ; the
 
 196 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 servants thoroughly understood waiting on 
 a gentleman ; and though male companion- 
 ship was always welcome to Aggie and 
 Mary, they never committed the vulgar 
 mistake of inflicting themselves on a man 
 when they were not wanted. Royston was 
 allowed plenty of time for any writing he 
 had on hand ; the society of Robert Max- 
 well and Alick Laurie was always open to 
 him ; he struck up a friendship with Mr. 
 Syme ; and though Mrs. Jamieson sadly 
 apologized for the want of grouse on the 
 little Kintocher moor, she added, if he 
 would only stay till September, there would 
 be plenty of partridges. But at this 
 Royston shook his head ; Scotch hospitality 
 certainly seemed boundless, but still it 
 ought not to be taxed too far. 
 
 And all the time no one knew of the 
 literary instruction that was going on with 
 wonderful regularity in the glen. It was a 
 point of honour with Royston to keep
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 197 
 
 Bell's secret, and she certainly intended to 
 keep it herself until such time as her story 
 saw the light in the pages of the Hyde 
 Pai'k Magazine, if, indeed, it was not too 
 much to expect such a wonderful and de- 
 sirable consummation. Effort at conceal- 
 ment was unnecessary ; the meetings were 
 never interrupted. Bell had more than 
 once observed to her aunts on her return 
 from a walk — 
 
 " I met Mr. Royston." 
 
 And they received the statement with 
 equanimity ; going about Kintocher so 
 much as she did, it would have been 
 strange if she had not sometimes met 
 him. 
 
 And Aggie had remarked to Royston 
 at luncheon one day — 
 
 " I wonder you don't meet Bell in the 
 glen ; she's often there." 
 
 To which he responded calmly, as he 
 helped the young lady to claret —
 
 198 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 11 Yes, it seems a favourite resort ; I 
 met her there this morning." 
 
 The private lessons amused and in- 
 terested Royston. It was a new experience. 
 Types of character always interested him ; 
 he had studied the human race with a 
 certain humorous cynicism, but women, as 
 it chanced, he had always taken very much 
 for granted. Probably, had his unformed 
 thoughts on the subject been put into shape, 
 they might have been something like this 
 — woman as a domestic institution is 
 necessary, and in a man's lighter moods 
 she is undeniably pleasant and entertaining ; 
 she is the weaker vessel, and is, therefore, 
 to be treated with courtesy and con- 
 sideration ; as a sharer in higher or deeper 
 moods, thoughts, and aspirations, she is 
 nil. 
 
 It was, perhaps, an odd faith to be held 
 in these latter days by a man of anything 
 but narrow mind ; but then his experience
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 199 
 
 at least his intimate experience, of women 
 had been narrow. Bell was something 
 new ; from their very first meeting she had 
 struck him as something outside his previous 
 experience, and so, while he laid himself 
 out to improve her literary style, he also, 
 by way of improving himself, studied her 
 narrowly. 
 
 Bell was an apt pupil. He gave un- 
 stinted praise where it was deserved, but 
 he also criticized faults mercilessly. She 
 took it very well, although she sometimes 
 mentally writhed under his plain speaking. 
 She deferred meekly, and in a way that 
 probably would have amazed her aunts, to 
 his opinions on style ; she cut out characters 
 and toned down her perspectives as he 
 advised. But there were times, too, when 
 she asserted herself, and argued with her 
 master, and, what is more, carried her 
 point. 
 
 She had begun a new story, more am-
 
 200 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 bitious than those she had hitherto 
 attempted, and he had been reading what 
 she had written. The community of MSS. 
 which had been established under the fir- 
 tree was, indeed, quite surprising. Bell 
 looked on unmoved now, while Royston 
 picked up and read what she turned out ; 
 and he, on his part, encouraged her in the 
 perusal of his copy since one day when 
 she had noted and corrected a mis-statement 
 in Scotch chronology. 
 
 " I don't quite like your scheme," he 
 was saying as he turned over the new MS. 
 
 "In what way ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, I think it would be more artistic 
 if ' Marian ' went off with him, and the 
 catastrophe followed." 
 
 " There, I can't agree with you," said 
 Bell, calmly; "what is unnatural cannot be 
 artistic." 
 
 " Precisely my point," he said ; " I main- 
 tain it would be the natural thing to do."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE 201 
 
 And he waited for the reply with some 
 pleasurable expectation ; to tell the truth, he 
 had grown to enjoy these encounters with 
 his pupil. 
 
 " Then I must have drawn ' Marian ' very 
 badly," said Bell. 
 
 " I call her charming," said Royston, in a 
 lazy tone, which he knew perfectly well was 
 likely to produce wrath. 
 
 " Charming ! " said Bell, contemptuously. 
 " She was nice" 
 
 " Nice," repeated Royston ; "oh ! word of 
 mystic feminine import ! Define it for me, 
 please." 
 
 "If you do not know what I mean," said 
 Bell, "and I believe you do perfectly, it is no 
 use trying to make you see. It is all very 
 well to laugh at the word ' nice,' but I do not 
 think there is just one other word in which 
 to put all it means in regard to a woman. A 
 nice woman, who was also strong — and I 
 think a woman to be really nice has to be
 
 202 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 strong — would never have done what you 
 suggest." 
 
 "Why not?" he said. " Even nice 
 women make mistakes sometimes, and this 
 would not amount to actual wrong." 
 
 " Cannot you see ? " she said, looking at 
 him in a puzzled way. " You understand so 
 many things ; you can detect motives, and 
 how they would work in different men ; and 
 yet, in regard to women, it seems as though 
 some instinct were left out in you. A woman 
 is not a puppet, she may have as high a 
 sense of honour as a man." 
 
 "Is that it?" he said, absently. "It 
 seems to me I am learning a great many 
 things about women I never thought of 
 before." 
 
 " Perhaps you never considered them 
 worthy thought at all," said Bell, rather 
 sharply. "Why did not that cousin, 
 who lives with your father, teach you 
 better ? "
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 203 
 
 " Rosie ?" he said ; and then he laughed. 
 " Oh ! teaching is not in Rosie's line," 
 
 "I daresay I have drawn 'Marian' 
 badly," said Bell ; " the more I try, the more 
 I see how difficult it is to put exactly what 
 is in my mind on paper. But the sort of 
 woman I mean would not buy her own 
 happiness at the price of any sort of dis- 
 honour ; and to her a touch of deception, the 
 taking of anything, however intangible, from 
 another, would be dishonour. It would be 
 unnatural, and, therefore, inartistic. Cannot 
 you see ? " 
 
 "Yes," he said, slowly, "the woman's 
 instinct about women is the correct one. 
 These delicate shades of feeling are beyond 
 the average man. And that's why, poor 
 fellow, he frequently makes such a hash 
 when he attempts to delineate the soul of a 
 woman of such crystalline purity as you 
 mean." 
 
 " The want of instinct is frequently quite
 
 204 
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 mutual," said Bell, returning to a lighter 
 mood ; " look at the appallingly back-bone- 
 less bundles of sawdust women turn out, 
 and label ' Man.' "
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It was presumably with a view to assisting 
 himself in the hitherto neglected study of 
 the feminine portion of the human race, that 
 Royston began to write a critical study of 
 the character of his pupil. He began it 
 idly, and with the idea in the background 
 that, if it satisfied him when completed, it 
 might make a magazine paper ; or, perhaps, 
 even be included in that series of Scotch 
 articles he was doing for the Telephone. 
 The editor liked variety, and it might be 
 used under the title of "A Type of Scots 
 Womanhood," or something of the sort. 
 But it grew beyond his original intentions, 
 [ 205 ]
 
 206 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 and he changed his mind for some reason 
 or another about its publication — no, it was 
 not to be published. But he kept it by 
 him, and added to it as he made new dis- 
 coveries in the character of his model. 
 He was rather pleased by his own success 
 in taking up the neglected subject, and it 
 had turned out interesting — oh ! very inte- 
 resting. 
 
 It chanced one morning, as he sat under 
 the fir-tree rapidly finishing an article he 
 wanted to send by the afternoon post, that 
 there lay by his side, among other papers, this 
 carefully-worked-out sketch. Bell had come to 
 an end of what she was doing, and knowing 
 of no reason why she should not as usual 
 read his MSS., she took up this particular 
 one and settled down to read it. She read a 
 page before a puzzled look began to appear 
 on her face ; gradually it changed to cer- 
 tainty, and when Royston at last looked up 
 from his completed work, he found a look
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 207 
 
 which was an embodiment of red wrath fixed 
 upon him. 
 
 " How did you dare to write this ? " 
 asked Bell, as though she were breathing" out 
 fire and slaughter. " It scarcely seems suit- 
 able for the End of the Century ; was it, 
 perhaps, for Hyde Park, or even the Tele- 
 phone it was intended ? " 
 
 He flushed when he saw what she held 
 in her hand, and for once, seemed almost 
 to have lost his presence of mind, as he 
 answered — 
 
 " It is for myself." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Bell, "do you often employ 
 your leisure moments turning out copy for 
 yourself? " 
 
 " Let me have it back, Miss Graham," 
 he said, "and I will tell you the exact 
 truth. When I began it, I did mean to 
 publish it — it was unjustifiable, I know — but 
 later I changed my mind." 
 
 " On consideration, it scarcely seemed
 
 2o8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 sufficiently interesting for the general public, 
 I suppose ? " said Bell, still in bitterest 
 wrath. 
 
 "That was not it," he said. 
 
 "What then?" she asked. "What 
 recalled you to some shreds of gentlemanly 
 feeling ? " 
 
 He answered nothing. 
 
 " Or were you recalled at all ? You 
 certainly do not seem to know the 
 reason." 
 
 He turned and looked at her oddly ; 
 and, even through her anger, she noticed 
 an almost helpless expression as of one 
 suddenly swept away he knew not 
 where. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I know— now." 
 
 " You seem unable to tell me, anyhow," 
 she lashed at him. 
 
 "Yes," he repeated, in a wooden way, 
 4i I am unable to tell you." 
 
 His manner could not but have an effect
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 209 
 
 on her ; she calmed down, and, rising, began 
 to collect her own papers. 
 
 " I believe I have, at least, a right to 
 insist that you destroy that," she said, 
 coldly. 
 
 " I suppose so," he said, in his former 
 way. "Yes, it is better it should be 
 destroyed." 
 
 " Good morning," she said, and walked 
 away. 
 
 But Bell's wrath was seldom long-lived ; 
 and as she walked away it struck her she 
 must have been very severe to have reduced 
 her sarcastic, masterful instructor to such a 
 pitch of — what was it ? — humiliation ? And 
 he was going to destroy it, so — perhaps it 
 would be gracious to forgive. 
 
 She turned and ran back to him, half- 
 laughing, with a pretty colour, gracious and 
 charming, as Bell could be — as Bell herself 
 was quite unaware she could be. 
 
 " Perhaps I was more disagreeable than 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 2io A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 I need have been," she said ; "but you ought 
 not to have done it, and — well, that's all 
 about it now." 
 
 She held out her hand, but he did not 
 take it ; he scarcely looked at her. 
 
 "You did well to-be angry," he said, 
 still as though he were a machine out of 
 whom words had to be ground by main 
 force. " I thank you for your forgiveness, 
 and I shall destroy the paper." 
 
 She was a little disappointed, and she 
 walked away again with something of a 
 cloud over her. 
 
 He stood under the fir-tree, where she 
 had left him, looking down into the burn, 
 and his expression was not that of a man 
 who was satisfied with himself or with the 
 world in which he lived. 
 
 " There is nothing for it but flight," he 
 was reflecting ; "I must get into Dunfechan 
 this afternoon and ask for letters at the 
 post-office, and I must get one, too, that
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 211 
 
 calls me back to town to-morrow. Then I 
 can clear out, and I — need not see her 
 .again. What a fool — what an infernal fool 
 I have been ! Would any other man of my 
 age have gone on as I have, never seeing 
 where I was drifting, never dreaming of it, 
 till suddenly I find myself plump over the 
 precipice ? I suppose it is better to have 
 suffered from these sort of attacks in one's 
 early youth ; then, possibly, one would 
 recognize the symptoms when they com- 
 mence, and take measures accordingly. 
 The average man of thirty might be ex- 
 pected to know better than to deliberately 
 sit down and play with fire. That is what 
 I have been amusing myself . with since 
 the day we drove home from Loch Erich, 
 I suppose. I can, at least," with a slight 
 access of bitterness, " lay the flattering 
 unction to my soul that no harm has been 
 done to her. But what a blind fool I have 
 been ! "
 
 212 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 There was consternation at Kintocher 
 when it appeared, on Royston's return from 
 Dunfechan in the afternoon, that he had 
 received a communication which necessi- 
 tated his immediate return to London. It 
 was too bad ! And Dick was coming next 
 week ! And they had been going to make 
 an excursion to the Devil's Lynn on 
 Thursday! It was quite too bad! Could 
 he not put it off somehow ? Write ? 
 Telegraph ? Something ? suggested the 
 entire strength of the Jamieson family at 
 once. No, it appeared it was quite impos- 
 sible ; much as he regretted it, he must get 
 back to London by to-morrow night's 
 mail, which meant leaving Kintocher early 
 in the afternoon to catch the train at 
 Stirling. 
 
 The next morning was not an enlivening 
 one. So far the weather had been kind to 
 Royston, but now a steady drizzle was 
 coming down in an unmoved way from a
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 213 
 
 dull grey sky that looked as though it might 
 remain of the same leaden hue for ever. 
 
 "If it had only been a decent day," 
 said Mary, " you would have had to go 
 down to Nether Kintocher to say good-bye. 
 How surprised Bell will be when she hears 
 you are gone. We were going to have 
 done such a lot of things yet." 
 
 "You must make my adieux to the 
 Miss Wardlaws and to Miss Graham," said 
 Royston, acquiescing in her view that the 
 state of the weather precluded his walking 
 a mile down the road, with an ease which a 
 little surprised her. 
 
 And, later, when, in a somewhat sullen 
 way, the rain abated some of its energy, 
 although he did get his hat and coat, and 
 prepare to go out, it was with no sug- 
 gestion of Nether Kintocher or his obvious 
 duty to take leave of the ladies there, 
 but merely to take a last look round the 
 garden.
 
 214 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " And the garden must be just dripping 
 wet," said Mary to Aggie. " It would be 
 more sensible, not to say polite, if he'd 
 gone down the road." 
 
 " Oh, well," said Aggie, "you know Bell 
 hasn't always been very civil to him, so, 
 perhaps, he thinks it doesn't matter." 
 
 He took his last look round the garden, 
 and he strolled on into the glen, to take a 
 last look there, too. Whatever the state 
 of the garden, there was no doubt 
 " dripping wet " accurately described the 
 glen. It even smelt dank and wet ; the 
 patter of the rain sounded on the tops of 
 the beech trees, and great drops collected 
 and fell down to the ground below. 
 
 Not a day to see the glen at its best ; 
 not a day when anyone in the full possession 
 of their senses would be supposed to select 
 it for a constitutional. And yet, obviously, 
 someone was there as well as Royston. A 
 boy, presumably, from the clear bird-like
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 215 
 
 whistle which was trilling out " Highland 
 Laddie ; " the gardener's boy, probably, but 
 Royston was not particularly curious about 
 his identity. He walked on, turned a 
 corner, and found himself face to face with 
 Bell. 
 
 "You!" she said. "Well, I'm glad 
 there's another daft-like person. That's 
 what Aunt Grace said I was when I came 
 out. I got tired of the rain, and so I said 
 I would take a run round the glen and back. 
 And then Aunt Grace said, ' A wilfu' wife 
 maun hae her way.' And Aunt Lizzie 
 said if I was going up the glen, I was to 
 mind not to breathe with my mouth open, 
 and not to sing ; and so," with a quick 
 laugh and blush, " I just had to whistle. 
 And if Aunt Grace had heard that, she 
 would have said something about ' whistlin' 
 maids and era win' hens.' " 
 
 She shook the rain-drops oft* her tweed 
 ulster and the little tweed cap on her hair,
 
 2 i6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 and waited for him to speak. He seemed 
 to find a remark difficult. 
 
 " I hope you will not catch cold," he 
 said, formally. 
 
 " I hope not," she responded, decorously. 
 And then she flashed a mischievous look 
 at him. " Haven't you got over yesterday ? 
 I thought we made it up." 
 
 What imp had got hold of the girl to- 
 day, making her three times more attractive 
 than she had ever been before ? The very 
 grey ulster and the cap set on the shining 
 hair, where the rain-drops lay, suited her as 
 nothing he had ever seen her wear before 
 had done. 
 
 " You didn't come down here to write 
 to-day, did you ?" she went on. " Anyway, 
 you won't be able to turn out anything dry." 
 And she laughed at her own disgracefully 
 common pun. 
 
 " You seem happy to-day," he said 
 slowly.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 217 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I am cheerful, some- 
 how. Can it be the rain — or what is it ? 
 Is something going to happen, and am I 
 * fey ? ' Do you know what that means ? " 
 
 " I know," he said, "and I hope you are 
 not ' fey,' but only happy because you are 
 young, and have a right to be happy. No, 
 I didn't come to write anything ; I have 
 written my last in the glen. I am — going 
 back to London to-night." 
 
 " Going away ? " she said, blankly. 
 
 "Yes. I did not expect to be able to 
 say good-bye to you, but fate has been 
 kinder to me than I deserved." 
 
 The rain had been falling all day, and 
 the sky had been dark, but, surely, it was 
 wetter and darker now. Happy? Had she 
 been happy ? It did not seem that the 
 world was a very happy place. And — oh, 
 what was this in her eyes ? What should 
 she do that he might not see ? 
 
 " It is rather a sudden move ; " she heard
 
 2i 8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 his voice, through a mist, " but business — 
 of course, business must be attended to." 
 
 Oh, yes ; business must be attended to. 
 How full her eyes were. If she kept them 
 steady, quite steady, perhaps, they would not 
 overflow ; perhaps her eyelashes would hide 
 it ; perhaps he would not see. 
 
 " You will say good-bye for me to your 
 aunts ; I am sorry not to have called before 
 leaving." 
 
 Yes, she would give ^the message to her 
 aunts. Oh, how her eyes were smarting. 
 Why would the tears not stop coming ? 
 They must run over — and then he would see. 
 
 " I hope you will soon hear from the 
 editor of Hyde Park ; I will take the MS. 
 to him as soon as I get back, and Bell !" 
 
 It might have been joy, but it seemed 
 more like the cry of a man who had been 
 clinging desperately to some hold that had 
 given way, and now found himself whirled 
 helplessly along in the current. He drew
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 219 
 
 in his breath with a sharp gasp, as the 
 tears at last ran over and trickled down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Bell ! You care — you do care ! 
 
 She was in his arms now ; the tears had 
 got mixed up with the raindrops on his 
 coat. The tears — oh, but it did not matter 
 about the tears, if he cared, too. 
 
 " My dear, my dear," he said. 
 
 He was caressing the damp, bright hair 
 that lay on his breast, and she let him — 
 why not ? Then, with some awful struggle, 
 he put her from him and spoke — 
 
 11 I did not mean it to happen — I thought 
 I should get away safely. I must tell you 
 —tell you the truth." 
 
 She was looking straight in his face now 
 with wide blue eyes fixed on his. 
 
 " I am — engaged to be married — to my 
 cousin, Rose Royston." 
 
 He ground it out in a hard dry tone. 
 Oh, those piteous blue eyes ! He had made
 
 2 2o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 one desperate struggle to seize at a firm 
 hold again, but he gave it up now, and was 
 whirled away in the tide. 
 
 " Don't, darling, don't look so. You are 
 mine — mine. I can put it all right. I will 
 go home and free myself — free myself from 
 this mistaken tie. I can see now how it 
 was all a mistake. Then I will come back 
 to you, darling, and we can be so happy. 
 My dear, my dear !" 
 
 He had taken her in his arms again, 
 and had kissed her on the lips. This time 
 it was she who disengaged herself, and drew 
 back, and he almost recoiled when he saw 
 her face. 
 
 ''You dare," she said, in short panting 
 breaths, "you dare to say this to me — to 
 suggest this dishonour ! Yes, dishonour. 
 You perjure yourself to that other girl, and 
 
 you think that I— that I would " She 
 
 stopped with a choking sob, and then went 
 on again. " Go back, go back to your
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 duty — if you are capable of duty ; and I 
 pray God I may never see your face again. 
 Oh ! " with a shudder of shame and anger, 
 "you have dared to touch me! You have 
 
 dared to — to " She choked, and with 
 
 her two clenched fists she struck him with 
 all her strength, with all the force lent her 
 by anger, shame, and misery. 
 
 He had been cast ashore now ; the 
 current of passion might roll by while he 
 stood in bitter self-contempt, white and 
 still, before the flaming scorn of her eyes. 
 
 "Go!" she said. "Go!" 
 
 " I suppose," he said, in a low voice, 
 " that is all there is left for me to do. It 
 is useless to ask you to forgive — perhaps it 
 is better you should not. But, at least, 
 you are more likely to do so than I am to 
 forgive myself." 
 
 "Go," she repeated. 
 
 And he turned and walked down the 
 glen, filled with such stinging self-reproach
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 and humiliation, as he had never before had 
 cause to feel. 
 
 She stood, breathing hard for a moment, 
 and then darted down to the side of the 
 burn. Dipping her handkerchief in the 
 water, she rubbed it over her face again and 
 again, almost rasping up her skin as she 
 tried to wipe off even the remembrance 
 of the kisses another woman's betrothed 
 husband had left there. The remembrance 
 — no, that would live, and the pollution. 
 The pollution, for did he not belong to Rose 
 Royston ? 
 
 "And I let him — I let him," she uttered, 
 in a sort of moan, as she stumbled blindly 
 up the bank. " What was that Aunt Grace 
 said ? ' If a lassie can't take care of herself, 
 she may look long or ever a man will do 
 it for her.' And I couldn't take care of 
 myself — I couldn't take care of myself!" 
 
 A tree stood in her way ; she delibe- 
 rately ran her head against it. She wanted
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE 223 
 
 some bodily hurt, any stinging pain, so that 
 it should be something other than this 
 compound agony which she had not yet 
 dissected, or fully understood. 
 
 It was an hour later when she reached 
 home. 
 
 " Bell, my dear, you've got a chill," ex- 
 claimed Miss Lizzie, directly she saw her, 
 " I can see it in your face. And, oh ! what's 
 that on your brow ? " 
 
 " I knocked my head," said Bell, indif- 
 ferently, putting up her hand to the place. 
 
 " Oh, dear! oh, dear! " said Miss Lizzie, 
 rising in consternation. "What a blow ! I 
 would think you must have been pretty well 
 knocked silly." 
 
 " She was silly enough, to start with, when 
 she went out at all," observed Miss Grace. 
 But then she, too, rose. <k Go and take off 
 your wet things at once, Bell, and change 
 your stockings. And, if you're shivering — 
 and you're white enough — just get into your
 
 224 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 bed at once and Janet will get a hot bottle to 
 your feet. And, Lizzie, get the arnica and 
 put some on her forehead. It will be green 
 to-morrow, anyway. Hout ! " cried Miss 
 Grace, as she forcibly removed the damp 
 ulster, " bairns are more trouble than they're 
 worth." 
 
 But Bell declined her bed, though she 
 changed her wet things obediently, and sub- 
 mitted to have her forehead bandaged with 
 arnica. She worked at some of her Aunt 
 Lizzie's " white seams " all the afternoon, 
 with an unusual and feverish earnestness, 
 which that lady regarded with a little alarm, 
 till she concluded it could scarcely be one of 
 the symptoms of a chill. Miss Grace re- 
 garded the more than usual industry curiously 
 for a time, and then remarked briefly, she 
 "only hoped it would last." 
 
 And Royston had taken leave of the 
 Jamiesons and gone off to Stirling, there to 
 await the train that would bear him south.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 225 
 
 Probably, there was no other man in the mail 
 that night who was suffering such pangs of 
 self-reproach and humiliation. Ninety-nine 
 men out of a hundred might not have been 
 able to realize, as he did, what he had done. 
 But, for his punishment, he understood it 
 fully. He knew instinctively now, as another 
 man would not, the workings of this girl's 
 soul ; he knew that to her it was as if he had 
 outraged and dishonoured her ; he writhed 
 at the contempt and detestation with which 
 she must regard him, the affianced lover of 
 another woman, who had dared to love her, 
 to hold her in his arms, to kiss her lips. 
 
 And he had been altogether thrown off 
 his own balance : he had made undreamed of 
 discoveries about himself. He had agreed 
 with Bell when she had rather defiantly told 
 him of her preference for the man of ''strong 
 passions and absolute self-control." Even 
 although he had suggested the self-control 
 might not be absolute, he believed his own 
 vol. 1. 15
 
 226 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 was ; and as to strong passions, he had 
 reached thirty years without finding them give 
 him undue trouble. His strong intellectuality 
 and busy active life had, perhaps, precluded 
 that. He had honestly believed he had 
 passed through most experiences, and he 
 awoke now to find he had, at least, omitted 
 one. He had suffered at nineteen from a 
 boyish infatuation for a woman ten years his 
 senior, which, when in ordinary course it 
 passed away, had left him half-ashamed, half- 
 amused, but with the calm assurance that 
 that phase of idiocy was not likely to recur. 
 
 He meant to marry some day ; being an 
 only son, it was almost a duty, and it would 
 vex his father if he did not. Practically, it 
 was his father who had thought for him in 
 the matter of his cousin Rose. Such a 
 union was the old man's heart's desire ; and 
 Royston was fond of Rosie — she was a dear 
 little thing ; oh ! yes, he was very fond of 
 her in the calm, quiet way which a man
 
 A SC07S THISTLE. 227 
 
 should be fond of his wife. It was quite the 
 obvious thing to do : it would please his 
 father, provide for Rosie's future, and be an 
 excellent arrangement for himself. Rosie 
 herself had no objections ; the engagement 
 seemed to make little difference in any of 
 their relations, and so everything appeared 
 on an easy and satisfactory footing. Of a 
 wife as a sharer of his thoughts and aspira- 
 tions he had not thought ; he had no 
 romantic ideas about another self. Rosie 
 was a dear little thing, and he would be very 
 good to Rosie — that was all. 
 
 Then fate led him to Kintocher, where 
 he strolled blindly about on the edge of an 
 abyss, and did not know it was one till he 
 found himself struggling in the depths below. 
 Then, indeed, he awoke and knew he was 
 but a man.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "Hallo! Royston, the very man we want! 
 You got my wire, then ? " 
 
 Royston had just turned into the Strand 
 when he was thus accosted, and, turning, 
 found himself face to face with the editor 
 of the Telephone. 
 
 " How are you, Porter ?" he said. " No, 
 I had no wire. What was it about ? " 
 
 " I sent it yesterday afternoon to Kin — 
 what's-its-name, near Dunfechan." 
 
 "Ah, then it probably arrived after I 
 left. I came up last night. Is anything 
 particular in the wind ? " 
 [228]
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 229 
 
 "Anything particular! Man alive! 
 haven't you seen the papers ? " 
 
 "Well, to be honest, I haven't. A bath 
 and breakfast was all I felt capable of after 
 the limited mail, and I was coming down 
 to you at the office now to find out if the 
 world generally stood where it did when I 
 left." 
 
 "Well, you saw an evening paper 
 yesterday ? " 
 
 "I saw," said Royston, meditatively, " a 
 sheet which, I believe, called itself an 
 evening paper. It emanated from Glasgow, 
 and was published, I should say, about one 
 or two p.m. It contained some of the news 
 which had appeared in the morning papers, 
 and, in addition, an account of an accident 
 to the Provost's carriage, and a column of 
 jokelets of American origin. Now, will you 
 tell me what you wired about ? " 
 
 "Well," said the other, "this is just it: 
 the Government are going to send out
 
 2 3 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 reinforcements ; there is to be an expedition, 
 after all ; and we want you to go out for 
 us. 
 
 "All right," said Royston, quietly; 
 " when do you want me to go ? " 
 " Next week. Can you do it ?" 
 " I believe so. I want to get down 
 home first. I'll catch the afternoon train. 
 I have sundry remains from my last cam- 
 paigning kit there that will serve again. 
 I'll go on to the Army and Navy Stores 
 now about some other items I shall want ; 
 and if you're lunching at Carey's, I'll join 
 you there later, and you can tell me any- 
 thing you want to." 
 
 " Right," said the other, and they 
 parted. 
 
 It suited Royston admirably, this un- 
 expected disposal of every moment of time 
 in the near future. He was always at his 
 best when he had to be alert and ready, 
 and he thought out all that would have to
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 231 
 
 be done, and the exact order in which he 
 would do it, in a few minutes. 
 
 He had nearly concluded his business 
 at the Stores, and was selecting a pith 
 helmet, when he stumbled across a 
 friend. 
 
 "Ah, Graves, that you? Same old 
 game ? " 
 
 "Yes. I suppose you're going for the 
 Telephone f " 
 
 " Exactly. And you have the job for 
 the Union Jack?" 
 
 "Yes. Look here, I want to get one 
 of those waterproof sleeping-bags you had 
 last time. I've no fancy for waking up and 
 finding myself soaking in a foot of water 
 again." 
 
 " Which wouldn't have happened if you 
 had taken the elementary precaution of 
 having a trench round your tent," suggested 
 Royston. 
 
 " I dare say not," laughed the other.
 
 232 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 "Anyway, I'm not likely to be so green 
 again. And, about pocket-filters. Just tell 
 me, like a good fellow — " 
 
 " Look here, Graves, I can't stop to tell 
 you anything just now," interrupted Roy- 
 ston ; " I've got to lunch with Porter at 
 Carey's, and I want to run up to the Hyde 
 Park office first. And I must catch the 
 afternoon train to Dunscombe." 
 
 "All right, old man," returned Graves. 
 " Have you blossomed into fiction that you 
 are descending on Hyde Park ? " 
 
 " Business for a friend," said Royston, 
 briefly. " Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," returned the other. "Oh, 
 by the way, how are you going ? " 
 
 " Haven't fixed yet, but probably over- 
 land to Brindisi." 
 
 "Well, I don't know what to do. You 
 see, it's awfully short notice, and " 
 
 But Royston was gone. 
 
 The editor of Hyde Park was an old
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 233 
 
 friend, and the doors of his sanctum opened 
 at the name of Royston. 
 
 " Well," was his greeting, " I suppose 
 you are off? " 
 
 " So it seems," said Royston, "and 
 everybody appears to have grasped the 
 fact before I did." 
 
 Then the conversation turned on the 
 prospects of the expedition, till Royston, 
 glancing at the clock, drew a bundle of 
 MS. from his pocket, and handed it over to 
 the editor. 
 
 "That," he said, "is the object of my 
 visit." 
 
 "What is it?" asked the other, as he 
 took it. 
 
 " A short story, which you will be quite 
 safe in accepting on my recommendation." 
 
 " Oh, I see, it isn't yours. A woman's, 
 by the writing. Who is she ?" 
 
 " A Scotch lady," said Royston, in a 
 cool tone, "who, I think, has the capacity
 
 234 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 to achieve something if she has a decent 
 chance. You may just as well make up 
 your mind to take it ; I know well enough 
 good short stories are not too plentiful. 
 I thought of you directly the MS. came into 
 my hands. By the way, why did you allow 
 that trash of Mrs. Langton's to get into 
 your last number ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Langton has made her name," 
 said the editor, placidly, "and one can afford 
 to publish trash of hers occasionally. The 
 public take it all in good faith." 
 
 " It will have to be very occasionally if 
 the trash comes up to the standard of that 
 last," said Royston, "unless the public wishes 
 to be written down an ass. You had much 
 better take what I have offered you just 
 now ; you will find, in contradistinction to 
 Mrs. Langton's last, it combines real pathos 
 and correct grammar." 
 
 The editor laughed. 
 
 " I'll look it over. Am I to com-
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 235 
 
 municate with the author through you, 
 or ?" 
 
 11 No," said Royston, shortly, and taking 
 up a pen, he wrote Bell's name and ad- 
 dress, in a clear hand, on the back of 
 her MS. 
 
 " Does she write under her own name ? " 
 asked the editor. 
 
 Royston paused. No, possibly not 
 She might still want to preserve her secret 
 from Kintocher and neighbourhood, though 
 she would probably tell her aunts. He 
 turned to her last page, and wrote "Graham 
 Bell " at the end. The reversed name would 
 do, and conceal her identity as well as 
 another ; or she could alter it when she cor- 
 rected her proofs. And this — yes, this was 
 probably the last he would ever have to do 
 with Bell Graham. 
 
 He straightened himself. 
 
 " Well, I must be off. I have to meet 
 Porter in a quarter of an hour. You may as
 
 236 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 well wish me luck now, in case I don't come 
 across you again." 
 
 11 Good luck by all means," said the other, 
 rising. " May you always be in the best 
 place when there's anything on, and, there- 
 after, may you be first at the telegraph." 
 
 " To which Porter would devoutly re- 
 spond Amen," said Royston, with a laugh. 
 "You might add, if General Walsingham 
 does order the Specials to be shot this 
 journey, may he make an exception in favour 
 of the Telephone." 
 
 It was a tedious journey down to that 
 remote Devonshire parish whither Royston 
 was bound, involving, as a conclusion, a 
 change from the main line to a branch one, 
 and a monotonous wait at an uninteresting 
 station for a deliberate local train. He felt 
 glad he had got to the end of it as he walked 
 up to the Rectory, leaving his portmanteau 
 to follow later on the barrow of the ancient 
 and solitary porter.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 237 
 
 A tall, white-haired man met him at the 
 door with outstretched hand and hearty wel- 
 come. They were wonderfully alike, the father 
 and son, although Royston would never be 
 so handsome a man as his father, would 
 never possess that indescribable fascination 
 of manner, which charmed all who came in 
 any sort of contact with old Mr. Royston. 
 There was a strength — some might say a 
 hardness — about the son's face, which did not 
 appear in the father's ; just as there was a 
 sweetness in the father's expression, which 
 seemed wanting in the son's. And, yet, a 
 close observer, perhaps, would have decided 
 there were equaj possibilities in both, though 
 different circumstances of life had resulted in 
 different degrees of development. 
 
 "Welcome home, Fred," said his father, 
 heartily ; "I hope it is more than a flying 
 visit this time." 
 
 Royston shook his head. 
 
 " I must be back in town the day after
 
 238 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 to-morrow," he said. " You have seen there 
 is to be a campaign, after all ? " And he 
 went on to give some particulars of what 
 his immediate movements were likely 
 to be. 
 
 Old Mr. Royston's face fell. He disliked 
 this part of his son's chosen career intensely. 
 Fred might almost as well have been in the 
 army, after all. The modern war corres- 
 pondent had to run risks of scarcely less 
 magnitude than the regular soldier; if he 
 were to be any use to an enterprising paper 
 — and everybody knew the Telephone was 
 the paper to read when there was a little war 
 on — he must go everywhere, see everything, 
 without the slightest reference to danger to 
 either life or limb. And though Fred had 
 powers of coolness and calculation, where his 
 employers' interests were concerned he was 
 likely to be profoundly indifferent to the 
 chances which might befall his own personal 
 life or limbs.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 239 
 
 His father sighed, and Royston changed 
 the subject. 
 
 " Where is Rosie ? " 
 
 " Here ! " cried a gay voice, and a charm- 
 ing little vision in muslin and lace and 
 ribands came flying down the stairs, and ran 
 towards them, holding up her face to 
 Royston to be kissed, without a shade of 
 hesitation. 
 
 Indeed, why should there be any hesita- 
 tion ? He had always kissed her since she 
 came to the Rectory years ago, a forlorn little 
 orphan, to find a kind uncle ready to be, as 
 far as in him lay, both father and mother to 
 his brother's child ; and a big cousin, who 
 was always patient and gentle with her, and 
 sometimes a trifle amused at her kittenish 
 ways. The fact of betrothal need not make 
 her shyer of Fred's kisses than before ; and 
 it did not : she came for them quite as readily 
 as ever. And he, on his part, gave the 
 kisses exactly as before, and as a matter of
 
 2 4 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 course. It was only now, as he bent over 
 her, that it occurred to him for the first 
 time what a colourless kiss this was to 
 bestow upon the girl who was to be his 
 wife. 
 
 She was a very pretty little girl, too, with 
 brown eyes and hair, and rosy lips ready to 
 pout or smile, with gentle, clinging ways ; 
 and about her, summer and winter, always 
 that pleasant flutter of ribands and laces 
 which so often confuses and dazzles the 
 average man. 
 
 11 Oh, Fred, what a surprise ! " she was 
 cooing round him. " Fancy only telegraph- 
 ing before you started from Paddington ! 
 There was just time to air your sheets. 
 And there is only a fowl for dinner — at least, 
 there is some soup, too, but no fish. How 
 could we get it ? And have you had a nice 
 time in Scotland ? You must tell us all about 
 it. Are you tired ? I am sure you want 
 your dinner. It's nearly ready, and there is
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 241 
 
 no time for you to dress. But, of course, 
 you don't want to dress, anyhow. How 
 lucky you've come ! The Unwins are going 
 to have a tennis party on Monday, and you 
 will make another man." 
 
 She was marshalling him upstairs to his 
 room, and he tried to explain that inexorable 
 circumstances would prevent his "making 
 another man " on Monday. 
 
 " Now, I call that horrid of you, Fred," 
 she went on ; " you are always here to-day 
 and gone to-morrow. Is it that nasty news- 
 paper ? Oh ! well, you must make it wait. 
 It's going to be such a nice tennis party ; 
 you know the new Squire has come to Duns- 
 combe now, and he will be at the Unwins'. 
 He is young and rather nice-looking — not a 
 bit like his uncle, the old Squire — and he 
 really plays tennis well." 
 
 " That's very nice, Rosie," said Royston ; 
 " I'm glad the new Squire promises well. 
 And, I am afraid he will have to take my 
 vol. 1. 16
 
 242 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 place as well as his own on Monday ; I can 
 only stay here to-morrow." 
 
 "Then, it's quite horrid," pouted Rosie. 
 "Wash your hands quickly, Fred, and come 
 down to dinner, and then you can tell me all 
 about it — but it's quite horrid." 
 
 He had to tell both his father and Rosie 
 all about it, and to answer a great many 
 questions ; and then, in his turn, he received 
 a good deal of information, the most part of 
 which centred round the new Squire of 
 Dunscombe, who appeared on all hands to 
 be considered an acquisition to the neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 Royston had presently to own to himself a 
 mental and bodily weariness to which he was 
 unaccustomed. But many things had been 
 pressed into those thirty-two hours which 
 had passed since he held Bell Graham in his 
 arms in Kintocher Glen. As that thought 
 recurred, he compressed his lips and looked 
 at pretty merry Rosie with a remorse which
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 243 
 
 she would have been far from understanding. 
 Poor little Rosie, he would be very good to 
 her, so help him God ! As for that other, it 
 was better for him not to think — the undoing 
 of what he had done did not lie with him ; 
 anger and contempt would be her best help 
 and safeguard. 
 
 Rosie went to the piano after dinner and 
 sang her gayest little songs, and he picked 
 up and read in a casual way the last Light 
 and Leading Magazine, which he found on a 
 table. In a casual way at first, but presently 
 he came upon an article by a notorious poli- 
 tician, which gradually absorbed him. Rosie 
 sang on, and his father sat watching his 
 drawn brows till he threw the magazine 
 down with a short exclamation. 
 
 " What lying clap-trap ! And there are 
 people, thousands of them, presumably in 
 their right minds, who will believe it, and 
 go about quoting it, and, what is worse, 
 acting upon it. You have read it, sir ? "
 
 244 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 handing the magazine across to his 
 father. 
 
 " Well, the fact is, 1 ' responded the old 
 gentleman, " I began it, but it annoyed me 
 to that degree I left it unfinished." 
 
 "Ah," said the son, briefly, "it ought 
 to be answered." And he relapsed into 
 silence. Presently, he spoke again. " Have 
 you a Hansard in the house, father ? " 
 
 " I am afraid not," replied Mr. Royston, 
 " but there are any number of Telephones 
 properly filed, if that would do." 
 
 The son nodded. 
 
 " Yes, I can depend on the Telephone 
 reports ; and it is pleasant and convincing 
 when you can convict a man out of his 
 own mouth — not that there is ever any 
 special difficulty in doing that when you 
 have this man to deal with. Some one 
 ought to answer this. I may as well do it 
 on chance — in case no one better takes it 
 up."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 245 
 
 " Not to-night, Fred ; you are tired," 
 objected his father. 
 
 " Better to strike while the iron is hot," 
 said Royston, rising, " and I feel my brain 
 is in that promising condition. It's very 
 rude, Rosie, I know, but I am going to the 
 study to write." 
 
 " Very naughty, rude boy," said Rosie, 
 shaking her head at him in pretended 
 displeasure. " You deserve to be disturbed, 
 and, perhaps, I shall do it." 
 
 He smiled, and walked off to the study, 
 with the magazine containing the offending 
 article in his hand. 
 
 After all, it was not an article very easy 
 to answer ; lying and clap-trap were there 
 in abundance, certainly, but it was written 
 by one who possessed in perfection the 
 serpent-like attributes of wriggling and 
 writhing, and a wriggling and writhing 
 enemy is not by any means so easy to 
 either scotch or kill as one who charges
 
 246 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 straight forward in fair fight. Royston's 
 contracted brows, as he sat writing, showed 
 he was concentrating his w r hole mind on the 
 subject in hand. He had found the back 
 numbers of the Telephone that he wanted, 
 and had collected some solid and undoubted 
 facts wherewith to crush the adversary ; 
 and he had reduced his facts and arguments 
 to short crisp sentences easily understanded 
 of the people. Now he wanted a biting, 
 crushing conclusion that should sum up 
 the whole matter in one short paragraph, 
 and leave the writer of the article pul- 
 verised. 
 
 He sat thinking, unable to arrive at 
 what he wanted, unable to reduce and 
 concentrate his sarcasm as he desired to 
 make it the more effective, and hit more 
 exactly that bull's-eye in the centre of the 
 target at which he was aiming. No, it would 
 not come. Yes — a quick flash of the eye 
 and curl of the lip told he had grasped it at
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 247 
 
 last. He dipped his pen quickly in the 
 ink — and then the door opened, and Rosie's 
 voice said — 
 
 " Didn't I say I should come, Fred ? 
 And now, I want you to tell me something 
 important — what do you think of my new 
 bonnet ? " 
 
 Where was that brilliant conclusion of 
 the whole matter going ? — that incisive 
 summing-up and disposal once and for all of 
 every argument advanced by the enemy ? — 
 that cutting sarcasm it had taken him so 
 long to grasp as he wanted ? 
 
 For one brief moment the contracted 
 brows contracted still more ; then he quietly 
 laid down his pen, and turned round. He 
 deliberately and firmly put away all that 
 his brain had been toiling over, and had 
 at last got into the right focus, and he 
 quietly and determinedly made himself 
 think about this little arrangement of 
 riband and tulle perched on Rosie's head.
 
 248 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 He conscientiously made himself determine 
 whether it were becoming or not before he 
 answered her question. And then he said, 
 gently, and with a smile — 
 
 " It is almost as pretty as you are, 
 Rosie." 
 
 This world is, perhaps, not a very fine 
 place when we get to know much about 
 it, but it does, after all, contain some un- 
 recorded depths of heroism. 
 
 Rosie rippled out a delighted laugh. 
 
 "Who can say pretty things when he 
 likes ? " she said, and she walked up to the 
 writing-table. The logical sequence of such 
 a remark from any lover was surely a kiss. 
 So it seemed to Rosie. She came for her 
 kiss as a matter of course, and, as a matter 
 of course, she got it. 
 
 " This is my Sunday bonnet," she ex- 
 plained ; "but I have a new hat, too. I 
 shall wear it at the Unwins' on Monday. 
 What a pity you won't be there, Fred."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 249 
 
 "You can show me the hat," he sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "Yes," she said ; "but I should like you 
 to see it with my tennis-costume complete 
 on Monday." 
 
 " I expect everyone will admire the 
 combination," he remarked, cheerfully. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said, with a little nod ; 
 "and, of course, there will be the new 
 Squire. He really is decidedly nice, Fred ; 
 nice-looking, and then he is very pleasant 
 to talk to." 
 
 " Yes, it seems a good thing for the 
 neighbourhood, altogether," said Royston, a 
 little absently. 
 
 "Well, I'm going to bed," said Rosie. 
 " Have you finished all your nasty writing? 
 I should have a pipe and go to bed, if I 
 were you." 
 
 " I daresay the pipe isn't a bad sugges- 
 tion, Rosie," he said, his eyes wandering over 
 the scattered papers on the writing table.
 
 250 A SCOTS THISTLE.. 
 
 " 1 shall fill it," said Rosie, energetically, 
 making a dash at a drawer where smoking 
 paraphernalia abode, and rummaging for a 
 pipe, which she considered suitable. 
 
 " If you don't mind, I think I should 
 prefer this," he said, producing from his 
 pocket one which had seen much service. 
 
 " Nasty, dirty, old thing ! " said Rosie, 
 pouting at it. 
 
 " I suppose it does deserve all three 
 adjectives," he said, taking a tobacco pouch 
 out of her hand, " but it is a trusty friend 
 and companion for all that — or, possibly, in 
 consequence of that." 
 
 ''Well, I'm going to fill it," said Rosie, 
 with a little stamp of her foot, and she 
 snatched at pipe and tobacco, and proceeded 
 with the filling after a method of her own, 
 which involved much scattering of tobacco 
 on the carpet. 
 
 "Now," she said, triumphantly, "that's 
 done ! You lieht it, Fred."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 251 
 
 " After you have gone, I think, Rosie," 
 he said ; "it would be a pity to smoke the 
 pretty bonnet, would it not ? " 
 
 The consideration did weigh with Rosie, 
 so after skimming round the room, and 
 upsetting the matches into the fender, she 
 held up her face for a good-night kiss, and 
 departed. 
 
 Royston closed the door after her, 
 picked up some ounces of tobacco she had 
 dropped on the floor, emptied his pipe 
 carefully, refilled it on more scientific 
 principles, and then, lighting it, he sat down 
 in an arm-chair, and began to smoke 
 thoughtfully.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Presently the door opened again, and his 
 father joined him. 
 
 " Finished your work, Fred ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Royston shook his head. 
 
 " I came to grief over the end. I've 
 lost my inspiration, and must wait till it 
 returns." 
 
 His father sat down opposite him, filled 
 a pipe for himself, and relapsed into silence. 
 Royston was leaning back in his chair, 
 watching the smoke curling up, as though it 
 were something that demanded rather close 
 scrutiny. His father watched him, and 
 [ 2 52 ]
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 253 
 
 involuntarily sighed. Royston roused 
 himself. 
 
 "What's that for, father ? " he asked. 
 
 The old man looked apologetic. 
 
 " I scarcely know, my boy. I believe 
 I was thinking, as you sat there just now, 
 you were looking about ten years older than 
 you had any right to." 
 
 Royston laughed, 
 
 " My dear father/' he said, " if you had 
 left Dunfechan when I did yesterday after- 
 noon, put in a particularly uninteresting wait 
 at Stirling, spent the night in the train, 
 torn backwards and forwards about London 
 to-day, and finished up by coming down 
 here this afternoon, I believe even your 
 perennial youth might have suffered. And, 
 anyhow, you know, I have not got the gift 
 of growing younger instead of older, as you 
 have." 
 
 Old Mr. Royston shook his head, only 
 half-satisfied.
 
 254 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " Then you ought not to have attempted 
 writing this evening," he said, " and you 
 ought to go to bed now." 
 
 "All in good time," responded his son ; 
 " I am going to see if I cannot polish off 
 that article presently, and then I am un- 
 doubtedly going to bed. Meantime, I am 
 soothing my brain with tobacco, and we can 
 talk. Indeed, sir, I want to talk to you 
 anyhow — about Rosie." 
 
 "Yes?" His father looked up in- 
 terested. 
 
 " You see," said Royston, in clear 
 decided tones, " it seems to me, Rosie and 
 I have been hanging on long enough in 
 this sort of way — it is quite time we 
 were married." 
 
 Mr. Royston, senior, nodded, evidently 
 well pleased. 
 
 "Yes, my boy, yes. It is the wish of 
 my heart to see you with a wife, and 
 settled — settled," he repeated, mentally
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 255 
 
 dismissing any fears of future war corres- 
 pondence. " And Rosie is quite old 
 enough," he went on, "and a dear little 
 thing, a dear good little girl." 
 
 "Yes," said Royston, gravely, "a dear 
 good little girl." 
 
 " I shall miss her," went on the older 
 man, " I don't like to think how much. 
 But it will be a great happiness to me to see 
 you married to a good little wife ; and 
 Rosie safe in the care of a man to whom I 
 can trust her." 
 
 "Yes," said Royston, slowly and gravely, 
 as though he were taking a solemn vow 
 upon himself, " I believe you may trust me 
 entirely." 
 
 And his father did ; but he wished 
 somehow, as he looked at his son, that the 
 promise had been made without that look of 
 age — to which, as he had said, he had no 
 right — upon his face. 
 
 " Then, when this business is over, and
 
 2 5 6 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 I come back again, you think the — wedding 
 might come off?" said Royston. 
 
 "If Rosie agrees," suggested his father, 
 smiling, as though he had no special doubts 
 about her opinion on the subject. 
 
 " If Rosie agrees, of course," repeated 
 Royston ; "I shall speak to her about it 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 " When do you suppose you will come 
 home again ? " his father asked, after a 
 pause. 
 
 Royston shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Who knows? The whole business 
 might be comfortably disposed of, and the 
 reinforcements on their way home in three 
 months, if they leave Walsingham a free 
 hand. The question is, will they ? Pro- 
 bably, Downing Street will, as usual, pull 
 the strings behind the scenes, upset plans, 
 derange the scheme of campaign, and drag 
 the whole affair out indefinitely. Oh, say 
 from three to six months, sir."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 257 
 
 11 I heartily wish you were not going, 
 Fred," said his father. 
 
 Royston moved impatiently. 
 
 "It's the best thing in the world for me ; 
 nothing could have happened more oppor- 
 tunely," he said, "and then, when I come 
 back, we'll have the wedding, and get it 
 over." He caught himself up with a laugh. 
 "What an unlover-like way of putting 
 things ! This is the result of irritability 
 consequent on the limited mail." 
 
 He rose and shook himself. 
 
 "Go to bed, father ; I am not good 
 company to-night. I shall finish off my 
 friend of the Light and Leading now, and 
 then you have my solemn promise to seek 
 the sweet restorer, too. Good-night, sir." 
 
 And he went back to the writing-table, 
 and the effort to recover that lost paragraph 
 banished by pretty Rosie. 
 
 Next morning he devoted himself to 
 collecting sundry articles, which had seen 
 vol. I. 17
 
 25 8 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 service in previous campaigns, and which, 
 as he had told the editor of the Telephone, 
 might serve again. There was no difficulty 
 about those which had been left under lock 
 and key, but then all had not. 
 
 " What on earth has become of that 
 field-glass ? " he asked, appearing in the hall 
 suddenly, as Rosie passed through it, 
 jingling some keys, with a charming appear- 
 ance of being engaged in some becoming 
 household avocations. 
 
 She shook her head, and looked at him 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "A field-glass, Fred? I don't remem- 
 ber. I wonder where you left it." 
 
 " I know exactly where I left it," he 
 said, " and it isn't there now." 
 
 Rosie still shook her head. 
 
 " I don't know," she said, "but I'll look 
 — I'll look everywhere presently. I must 
 get some jam out of the store-room now. 
 Which sort do you like, Fred ? It's for a
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 259 
 
 sweet omelette. You like sweet omelette, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 "Thank you, Rosie," he said, " oh, yes, 
 it's very good. I wonder what has become 
 of that glass." 
 
 "And which sort ? " pursued Rosie. " I 
 mean the jam, Fred, dear." 
 
 " Which sort ?" he repeated. "Oh, you 
 know best, Rosie — gooseberry, strawberry 
 — you had better choose." 
 
 " I think," she said, gravely, " strawberry 
 is better for an omelette than gooseberry. 
 Gooseberry for a jam roll ; but when it is an 
 omelette, I think strawberry. But, you know, 
 Fred, if you really prefer gooseberry " 
 
 "Oh, no," he said, patiently, "straw- 
 berry is best, I am sure. Please have 
 strawberry, Rosie. You will look for my 
 glass presently, won't you ? " 
 
 Rosie nodded. " Oh, yes." 
 
 And he went back to rummage in the 
 study.
 
 2 6o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 About half an hour afterwards, as he 
 sat cleaning a revolver, she appeared, 
 triumphantly carrying the missing field- 
 
 glass. 
 
 " Here it is," she said ; " I found it in 
 the wine-cupboard in the sideboard." 
 
 He elevated his eyebrows. " How, in 
 the name of wonder, did it get there ? " 
 
 "Well, it is funny, isn't it ?" said Rosie. 
 " But I do remember now. We had a 
 picnic — don't you know I wrote to you 
 about the picnic ? — and I took the glass. 
 The view was quite beautiful. I was glad 
 I took the glass ; and then, when we 
 came back it was late, and I was tired, 
 and so I suppose I just put it in the 
 sideboard to be out of the way. Oh, Fred, 
 what are you doing with that nasty gun ? " 
 
 "Cleaning it," he responded, laconically. 
 "And it isn't a gun, Rosie." 
 
 "Well, it goes off just the same," she 
 said, "and it's horrid."
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 26 r 
 
 "It can't go off just at present, anyhow," 
 he said, quietly, " as it doesn't happen to 
 be loaded." 
 
 " People are always getting shot with 
 guns that they think are not loaded," 
 persisted Rosie. " They go off just the 
 same." 
 
 His lips curled. 
 
 " My dear child, I am not such an 
 unhung idiot as to play with a loaded 
 revolver in this way. I extracted every 
 cartridge before I began." 
 
 " Oh, I daresay," said Rosie; "but I 
 don't like it." 
 
 He put it down, and looked at her. 
 
 " I will finish it by-and-by," he said. 
 " Meantime, I want to speak to you, Rosie. 
 But if you would feel safer in another 
 room, where there does not happen to be 
 an empty revolver " He checked him- 
 self. Rosie had never understood sarcasm. 
 " Come into the garden," he said.
 
 262 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 And Rosie gladly followed him from 
 the presence of the unloaded revolver. 
 
 Old Mr. Royston, presently looking out 
 of a window, discerned them sitting together 
 on a rustic bench under the shade of an 
 overhanging tree, and he smiled, well 
 pleased. It would be good for Fred to be 
 married ; a wife's fingers would smooth out 
 some of those lines, which had no business 
 on his face yet, would soften that sarcastic 
 curl about his mouth. A wife's love and 
 sympathy would develop those powers of 
 love and sympathy which his father thought 
 he knew lay dormant somewhere. 
 
 " I like this much better, Fred," said 
 Rosie, brightly, as she sat down under the tree. 
 
 "That's well," he said, and then fell 
 into silence till she suggested — 
 
 "You said you had something to say." 
 
 "Yes," he responded ; "it is this : We 
 have been engaged a good while, Rosie, 
 and the logical outcome of an engagement
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 263 
 
 is a wedding. Don't you think we ought 
 to have some definite idea now when that is 
 to be ? Of course, I must go away just 
 now, but I thought, if you had no objection, 
 we might be married directly I come back." 
 
 It struck him this was a hopelessly 
 matter-of-fact way to ask a girl to fix the 
 time when she would be his ; he might 
 have put about as much tenderness into a 
 business appointment. Poor little Rosie, 
 surely she deserved another sort of wooing. 
 He felt intensely sorry for her. It put a 
 remorseful gentleness into his next words, 
 and he placed a protecting arm round her, 
 as he had been used to do since she was a 
 little child. 
 
 " I will be very good to you, dear ; 
 indeed, I will." 
 
 " Oh, you're always good to me, Fred," 
 she said, contentedly. " It seems almost a 
 pity to be married, doesn't it, when we are 
 so nice as we are."
 
 264 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 " But, you see, Rosie, we can't always 
 go on like this," he urged. 
 
 " Can't we?" she said. "I think it's 
 very nice." 
 
 " I think we must try to fix something," 
 he pursued. " Father quite agrees with me 
 in this. He wants to see us married." 
 
 " Does he ? " said Rosie. " Oh, Fred, 
 will you take me quite away from uncle 
 and from here ? I love it all so much." 
 
 Tears very easily came to Rosie's eyes, 
 and tears were coming now. 
 
 11 You shall fix about where you would 
 like to have our headquarters," he said. " I 
 am afraid I must be in London a good part 
 of the time." 
 
 " I should like London sometimes," said 
 Rosie, reflectively. " There are lots of 
 things to see, and shops. I'm very fond of 
 shops." 
 
 " Yes, you would find plenty of shops," 
 he agreed.
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 265 
 
 " And, then," she went on, cheerfully, 
 " when you had to go away about wars or 
 anything, I could come down here and stay 
 with uncle, couldn't I ? " 
 
 " Yes," he assented, with some as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 He had been prepared heroically to 
 abandon any future career as a Special, 
 and it appeared that Rosie did not dream 
 of the sacrifice, that she would let him go 
 without remonstrance. It was very good of 
 Rosie, but — well, a man, he supposed, was 
 always finding out he did not really under- 
 stand women. 
 
 " So, Rosie," he began again, " we are to 
 look forward to being married when I come 
 back, are we not ? You could begin to get 
 all the things a lady wants under these cir- 
 cumstances, could you not ? — dresses, 
 bonnets, etc., etc." 
 
 Rosie clapped her hands. 
 
 " Oh, Fred, how nice! I didn't think of
 
 266 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 that. Yes, I can begin to get all my things ; 
 what fun ! But, oh, to be sure — Fred, how 
 long shall you be away ?" 
 
 " We must say three or four months, 
 anyhow, I expect," he said. 
 
 " Oh, Fred," she said, reproachfully, "oh, 
 Fred, how could you say I might get my 
 things then ? They would be quite old- 
 fashioned. Fancy getting a bonnet now to 
 wear in four months ! Oh, Fred ! " 
 
 "Well," he said, "dresses, then — you 
 could get some dresses " 
 
 Rosie interrupted him with a little 
 shriek. 
 
 " Dresses, you foolish, ignorant Fred ! 
 Why, they are as bad — quite as bad ! Oh, 
 no," with a sigh of disappointment, " I must 
 not begin to get my things yet ; I see it 
 would never do. I'm sorry." 
 
 "Are not there any parts of a lady's 
 trousseau which will bear getting a month or 
 two in advance ? " he asked, trying to console
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 267 
 
 her disappointment ; "for instance — er — ■ 
 petticoats, and things like that ? " 
 
 Rosie nodded her head sagely. 
 
 " Well, yes, I almost think I might do 
 that. Though, you see, Fred, petticoats 
 themselves do depend a little on the way 
 dress-skirts are worn. But, of course, there 
 are — other things of that sort. Yes, I might 
 be going on with them." 
 
 "Ah! I thought there must be some- 
 thing," he said. 
 
 11 I wonder about my wedding-dress," 
 Rosie began again, " I wonder what I shall 
 have it made of ? " 
 
 " Isn't white satin the correct thing ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Oh, there are lots of other materials 
 used," said Rosie, with the satisfied air of a 
 person who had studied the subject and was 
 pleased to give information. " I think white 
 velvet would be lovely, but, of course, that 
 would be very expensive, and, perhaps, not
 
 268 A SCOTS TH1TSLE. 
 
 so useful afterwards. I wonder," she said, 
 pensively, "if I shall make a pretty 
 bride ? " 
 
 When a girl says this sort of thing to the 
 man she is going to marry, his line of con- 
 duct is sufficiently obvious. Royston felt 
 that, but, for the life of him, he could not 
 have kissed Rosie just then. He even felt 
 the arm round her was involuntarily loosen- 
 ing its hold, as he fixed his eyes on the 
 garden-roller, and said in a level voice — 
 
 " No one can have the least doubt about 
 that, Rosie." 
 
 Poor little Rosie, she was very easily 
 satisfied, he thought, with another spasm of 
 remorse, for she smiled and went on with her 
 pretty chatter. 
 
 44 And then bridesmaids, Fred — I should 
 like to have a number. Do you think ten 
 would be too many ? I mean, do you think 
 it would look as if I were trying to be too 
 grand ? "
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 269 
 
 "Ten is a good many, isn't it, Rosie ? " 
 he said ; and the lines on his face would 
 assuredly have aroused his father's uneasi- 
 ness. " But have it as you please, dear. I 
 want you to arrange everything as you like 
 best." 
 
 Rosie nodded. 
 
 "Then, ten bridesmaids," she said, "and 
 a little page to carry my train would be so 
 nice — two little pages, I think. And the 
 service choral, don't you think — fully choral ? 
 And uncle and Mr. Wright to marry us, and 
 — yes, I think we should have Mr. Taylor 
 from Exeter, too." 
 
 He was brave, but he was only a 
 man. 
 
 " Oh, Lord !" he gasped. Then his lips 
 took their cynical curl. " Hadn't you better 
 have the Bishop and His Grace of Canter- 
 bury while you are about it ? " 
 
 It was a pity to waste sarcasm on Rosie. 
 She smiled, then shook her head.
 
 27 o A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 "It would be nice ; but I'm afraid, Fred, 
 \ve couldn't." 
 
 They were having a nice long talk under 
 the tree, old Mr. Royston thought. It was 
 pleasant to see them — Rosie chattering hap- 
 pily, and Fred listening gravely and kindly. 
 He enjoyed having a pair of lovers about 
 the house, and this engagement had al- 
 ways been a source of satisfaction to him. 
 So he smiled to himself well-pleased, and 
 presently, when his son entered the room, 
 he looked up with a cordial and ex- 
 pectant 
 
 "Well, Fred?" 
 
 " Well, father," was the response, " I 
 believe it may be considered settled. Rosie 
 consents to the wedding taking place when I 
 come back. She will tell you the details, 
 which are amplifying beyond the grasp of 
 my limited intellect ; but, I suppose, on these 
 occasions, if the man gets satisfactory hold 
 of the broad fact he is to appear in church at
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 271 
 
 a certain time, he may safely leave the rest 
 to the lady." 
 
 His father smiled. 
 
 " Well, yes, my boy, I suppose so. 
 Though I remember," he added, thought- 
 fully, "when I was going to marry your dear 
 mother how we arranged everything to- 
 gether. I even helped to choose the stuff 
 for her wedding-gown." 
 
 " I expect you made a much better lover 
 than I do, sir," said Royston, laying a hand 
 on his shoulder, and looking down at him 
 with a very true and natural affection ; 
 " for Rosie's sake I wish I were more like 
 you. 
 
 Royston was off to town again next day. 
 Rosie and his father accompanied him to the 
 station, both a little depressed by his depar- 
 ture, but both finding the prospect of what 
 was to follow on his return cheering ; Rosie, 
 in particular, having the " petticoats and 
 other things " to sustain her in the immediate
 
 272 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 future. She had some new ideas on the 
 subject of pages and bridesmaids, even after 
 they had reached the platform. But she 
 broke off to greet a young man who came 
 out of the ticket-office, and advanced to meet 
 them. 
 
 Royston was promptly introduced to him 
 as the new Squire of Dunscombe. He was 
 a good-looking young fellow, with sunny 
 hair and bright expression, evidently de- 
 sirous of making himself pleasant to the 
 Rector and the Rector's family. 
 
 " You are going to the Un wins' on 
 Monday, Miss Royston, I suppose," he said ; 
 " we shall be sure to meet. You are not 
 going off anywhere by train now, are you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said Rosie, " we are seeing 
 my cousin off. He has to go out to this 
 horrid war they are going to have, and 
 to write letters home about it, and all 
 that." 
 
 " How awfully jolly for you," said the
 
 A SCOTS THISTLE. 273 
 
 young Squire, addressing Royston, " I wish 
 I were you to have such luck." 
 
 " Perhaps you could not write things 
 about it like Fred," suggested Rosie. 
 
 " Write?" he cried, with a gay laugh. 
 " No, indeed, I couldn't write a decent page 
 about anything to save my life — never can 
 remember about the spelling, and the stops, 
 and that, don't you know ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Rosie, sympathetically, "I 
 never know about the stops, so I don't put 
 any — I think it's safer." 
 
 " Here's the train," said the Squire. 
 " Well, good-bye till Monday, Miss Royston. 
 Are you going in a smoking carriage ? " to 
 Royston. "All right. I'm only going to 
 Taunton, but we can go that far to- 
 gether." 
 
 " Good-bye, Rosie," said Royston, 
 quietly ; " good-bye till — we meet again. 
 Good-bye, father." 
 
 " God bless you, my son," his father 
 
 VOL. I. l8
 
 2 74 A SCOTS THISTLE. 
 
 returned, clasping his hand. " Don't get 
 into more danger than you can help." 
 
 "All right," said Royston, lightly, "I'll 
 remember. It would be a nuisance for 
 them at the Telephone office to have to send 
 on another Special." 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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