girl like Mary Campbell; but when a long dreamless rest had cleared and
refreshed his mind, he began to think that the plan, primitive as it was,
might be a good one. In love, as well as geometry, the straight line might
be the easiest and best.

But he had no further opportunity to discuss it with her. David's trip to
Glasgow was a very important affair to him, and he stayed at home in the
afternoon to prepare for it. Then Maggie had her first hard lesson in
self-restraint. All her other sorrows had touched lives beside her own;
tears and lamentations had not only been natural, they had been expected
of her. But now she was brought face to face with a grief she must hide
from every eye. If a child is punished, and yet forbidden to weep, what a
tumult of reproach and anguish and resentment is in the small pathetic
face! Maggie's face was the reflex of a soul in just such a position. She
blamed Allan, and she excused him in the same moment. The cry in her heart
was "why didna he tell me? Why didna he tell me before it was o'er late?
He kent weel a woman be to love him! He should hae spoken afore this! But
it's my ain fault! My ain fault! I ought to think shame o' mysel' for
giving what was ne'er sought."

David noticed the pale anguish of her cheeks and mouth, and the look of
terror in her eyes, but he thought her trouble was entirely on his own
account. "Dinna fret aboot me, Maggie," he said kindly, "I am going where
I hae been sent, and there's nae ill thing will come to me. And we sall
Hae the summer thegither, and plenty o' time to sort the future
comfortable for you. Why, lassie, you sall come wi' me to Glasca', rayther
than I'll hae you looking sae broken-hearted."

It was not a pleasant evening. Allan was packing his best pictures and
Some clothing. David was also busy. The house was upside down, and there