justified in classing Gowan with such.

"And will this good man put up at Christian's cottage?" I asked.

"Na, na, Mr. Edmund," said Bell, astonished, "Christian's nae ower weel
provided wi' sheets and siclike, ye ken. Na! he's to stay wi' Mistress
Dobie at Larrigie Inn. They've redded up the best rooms, and kindled
fires and a', to be ready gin he comes soon. The fowks say as Gowan
'll likely have ane o' they motors, like the Squire's at the toon, so
as he can drive aboot the countryside and see a' the changes that's
come sin' he left."

The world was "turning golden," indeed! My cogitations as I made my
way home were touched by the sheen.

Val took it all very calmly (as he is wont, dear boy! whenever I
rhapsodize).

"If he happens to be a millionaire, Ted," he remarked--and a twinkle
shone through his glasses--"you may give up all hope of getting
anything out of him. It is proverbial that such gentry haggle over a
six-pence when it comes to gratuities!"

During the week that followed the whole countryside had no more
interesting subject of conversation than the coming of the rich cousin
to "make a lady" of Christian Logan.

Christian certainly deserved any good fortune that might fall to her.
She was the young widow of an under-gamekeeper at Taskerton, an estate
in our neighborhood. Donald Logan had met with an accident, by the