was all he wanted. Lady Margaret was an appendage, and a very tiresome
one into the bargain. She could not touch his sympathies, for whatever
heart he ever had was far across the sea, where the cold green waters of
the great St. Lawrence beat in unceasing murmur against the rocky beach
at Father Point.

McAllister heard occasionally from his mother, whom he had often begged
to come over to Scotland to share his prosperity, but the old lady always
refused, saying that she was too old to venture so far from home.

He had written several times to M. Bois-le-Duc, but never had received
any answer or news of the curé until a year ago, when a friar from Quebec
had come to Scotland on a visit, and had brought a letter of introduction
from the curé of Father Point to McAllister. The letter consisted only of
a few short lines. Noël had often questioned his mother about Marie
Gourdon, but on this subject the old lady was silent,--it is so easy to
leave questions unanswered in letters.

"Margaret," Noël called out suddenly, rousing himself from his
meditations, "I am going out now, and I shall not be back till five
o'clock. I am going to ride up the Glen."

"Very well, but remember to be back in time to dress for dinner. Last
time we were invited to the Severn's you were half an hour late, and
Lady Severn has not forgiven you yet."

"Oh! all right. I shall be strictly on time this evening, and trust to
make my peace with the old lady. Au revoir."