hands and paling cheeks. "What is it, father? Mother? Mary? Is she
dead?"

"'Deed, no, my lad. There's naething wrang but will turn to right. Mary
Moir was married three days syne, and I thocht you wad rather hear the
news from are that loved you. That's a', Davie; and indeed it's a loss
that's a great gain."

"Who did she marry?"

"Just a bit wizened body frae the East Indies, a'most as yellow as his
gold, an' as auld as her father. But the Deacon is greatly set up wi'
the match--or the settlements--and Mary comes o' a gripping kind.
There's her brother Gavin, he'd sell the ears aff his head, an' they
werena fastened on."

Then David went away with his father, and after half-an-hour's talk on
the subject together it was never mentioned more between them. But it
was a blow that killed effectually all David's eager yearnings for a
loftier and purer life. And it not only did this, but it also caused to
spring up into active existence a passion which was to rule him
absolutely--a passion for gold. Love had failed him, friendship had
proved an annoyance, company, music, feasting, amusements of all kinds
were a weariness now to think of. There seemed nothing better for him
than to become a rich man.

"I'll buy so many acres of old Scotland and call them by the Lockerby's
name; and I'll have nobles and great men come bowing and becking to
David Lockerby as they do to Alexander Gordon. Love is refused, and
wisdom is scorned, but everybody is glad to take money; then money is