bald and barren.

What was it he had read somewhere

about girding one's self like a good soldier?

"Bruce?" The elder paused, in a tone of soft, doubtful inquiry.

"I was thinking of all the outlying things-shall I call them so? Of the years to come."

"I am glad you can look at it in that light," in a greatly relieved tone. "And you are not unhappy?"

"I cannot promise that I will not be unhappy when I am alone by myself, but I am not as wretched as I thought I should be an hour ago, when you asked me to- to sacrifice my own desire. And yet I am just as much in love with Kathie; and the horrible fear comes over me -what if I should lose her! At least you will let me write. My letters may come in yours, unsealed."

The father's heart was deeply touched.

"Bruce, in this matter I trust you unreservedly.

And

I think I can answer for the others, when the proper time comes."

"Thank you," with a warm, earnest pressure of the hand. Then suddenly, "We must have lights: I hear them coming."

There was a sound of footfalls and voices on the stairs, and before the apartment was really illumined, the door opened, and Mrs. Mackenzie entered with her niece. A certain matronly grace marked the changes the years had brought Aunt Ruth; but Kathie Alston, to stranger eyes, would have been an undeniable young lady. A fresh, fair, slender girl, with the delicate complexion of her countrywomen, and a charm that was not so much beauty, perhaps, as the candor, grace, and purity of childhood still clinging about her. Certainly foreigners who met her did. not have to complain of aggressiveness or imprudent frankShe was rather shy of strangers, but enjoyed everything in such a wholesome, happy way that tired eyes and weary brains sometimes watched her with envy.

ness.

"Oh," she began now with a bright little laugh, “you were sitting in the dark, telling secrets; but you will have to repeat every little plot and plan! O Bruce, I wish you could have been there and heard Signora Biondo! She has such an exquisite voice. Only, it was so queer not to ask any gentlemen."

66

They might have frightened the young débutante,” said Bruce, glad of the cover of a commonplace.

"She does n't look so very young, does she, Aunt Ruth? And she is n't beautiful; but I believe celebrities seldom She is going to Milan to make her début, and then to St. Petersburg.”

are.

“And then to America, that harvest for singers,” rejoined Bruce.

"No doubt. Would n't it be odd to hear her there some time, Aunt Ruth? But it was delightful. And did you stay in all the afternoon? Were you planning campaigns with uncle?”

Bruce studied

She turned her clear eyes full upon him. her face curiously in the softened lamplight. It was frank, friendly, tender with the peculiar sympathy of her nature; yet she did not shrink or color, or drop her eyes to veil any secret. She loved him very much, but she was not in love with him. The pleasant intercourse of the past months had made them friends, cousins, as Bruce had at first insisted; but his father was right,—it was not her time to love.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a little confusion, “I don't want you to think We are all sorry; I am sorry to have you go."

-

"The sentences do not join properly." There was a little gravity in her tone. "But you do know."

“I think he does," answered his father, as a flush of color dyed his son's face for an instant.

Kathie began to take off her wraps. Yes, she should

miss Bruce every day and hour; and if the Merediths were not coming, she would want to go back to America herself: sometimes such a homesick longing came over her.

The tea was brought in, and the conversation was kept to safe general topics. Then some American friends called, and after a little they dropped into the silence of reading and thinking.

Just as they were parting for the night, Kathie went over to Bruce.

"I am going to tell you," she began in her soft, comforting tone, how glad I am that we had Scotland and England together, and the Alps, and that great, strange, barbaric Russia, for at home we can go over the bits and fragments of remembrance. You will be rea 'y for a vacation, or a furlough, is n't it, by the time we return. And I shall not care so much for Paris and the rest."

--

He was glad she could not see his face in that dim light. "And - you do not think that I shall not be sorry to have you go?" with a little falter in her voice.

"O Kathie, how could I think that?"

"You know it is as uncle said; there is no choice about it. We must give you up for a little while, and I have been trying to be brave and

"Oh, my darling, don't!" Bruce cried suddenly; “I know There, you are actually making a coward of me, a soldier and a soldier's son. I shall think of you often, always; and you must send a little remembrance now and then."

"Yes. Good night." She stooped and kissed him on the forehead, as any sister might. He pressed her hand to his lips, then let her go. It would be like caging a bird in May, to speak, to bind her by any promise.

And yet he wondered. With a young man's jealous fervor, he had a fear that whoever saw and learned to know Kathie would want her. What if he should miss the golden moment of her awakening!

A

Kathie thought the parting over sadly enough when her head first touched the pillow: it had been such a happy time, all their foreign tour so far.

The

Mr. and Mrs. Meredith had gone over with them. voyage had proved delightful, with only a trifle of seasickness. Kathie had been a little shy at first with her new cousin, but Aunt Ruth and her step-son were very dear friends.

The party had all gone up to London. There was so much to see and verify, so much of history and legend and song; so like home, and yet so different, the likeness being greatly the familiarity of speech.

Bruce and Kathie were out every day with the General or Mr. Meredith when the ladies could not go, — for the baby occupied Jessie a great deal, and Aunt Ruth was not strong enough to stand the fatigue; but there were stage-coach and railroad jaunts to pretty country places of note, ruined castles, and long-ago battle-fields.

"It makes it so real," Kathie said.

There were odd little bits,-provincialism, English quaintness, the greenery of gardens and fields, little towns with their narrow streets and old inns, peaceful rivers, peasants, and tidy maids. Gen. Mackenzie kept the young people away from the darker side, - the crowded cities with their streets of want and crime. Theirs was the pleasure tour of youth.

Then the party separated. Business called Mr. Meredith to Paris, where he was likely to spend the winter. The Mackenzies went to Scotland and spent the early autumn rambling about slowly as Aunt Ruth could take it. There was as much of romantic interest, in fact, more, I think, to the young people; and perhaps, too, there was more time devoted to it. There was some far-back ancestry that seemed to claim kinship, and Bruce hunted up all the places made famous by the hero from whom he had taken his name. There were other heroes and knights,

haunts and castles, and Holyrood, with its sad story of a checkered life and tragic ending.

"It seems strange to think of Queen Mary as a pretty French princess, with life and love and the luxury of the time all before her, when you contrast with it her dreary prison years. I never can wholly approve Queen Elizabeth," said Kathie with warm resentment.

"I do not suppose there ever was any great event or dispute where one side was wholly right," said the General; "there were always partisans to inflame both queens, and to sow dissension between them. Elizabeth, we must admit, was suspicious and jealous, and poor Mary fell upon evil times, even if she were as fair as her best historians represent her."

"But the strange thing," remarked Bruce, "is the curious love and veneration the Scotch seem to exhibit about her now, and the hatred with which they pursued her then. You almost feel now as if she had been idolized."

"That is the romance of time," said his father. "I think they had a chivalrous love for their queen, while their rigid principles led them to distrust and despise the woman."

There was Abbotsford to be visited, and the young people evinced a sudden interest in Sir Walter Scott's novels. They found so many historic places, celebrated battlefields, and lochs with legends of song. "The Lady of the Lake was exhumed, Bruce and Kathie taking turns in reading aloud.

ވ

Gen. Mackenzie had some governmental business at St. Petersburg, so they were to take Russia as their next abiding-place. At first Kathie had tried to write letters home and to the girls full of descriptions of the wonderful sights; but she found it was not possible to keep it up. Aunt Ruth considered it quite too great a tax.

"You will have all winter to get your memories into shape," she said. "You can see now, and write it out afterward."