"But it all ended well. You did not undertake more than you carried through," said Hamish.

"No; it kept us all together. But, Hamish, I often think that Allister came home just in time. If it had gone on much longer, I must either have given out or become an earth-worm at last, with no thought but how to slave and save and turn everything to account."

"I don't think that would ever have happened, Shenac," said her brother.

"But I think it was well for us all, and especially for you, that Allister came home just when he did."

"I don't mean that field-labour may not in some cases be woman's work.

For a girl living at home, of course, it must be right to help in whatever way help is needed; but I don't think it is the work a woman should choose, except just to help with the rest. Surely I can learn to do something else. If I were to go to Christie More, she could find a place of some kind for me. Don't you mind, Hamish, what she once said about our going with her to M---, you and me? Oh, if we could only go together!"

But Hamish shook his head.

"No, Shenac. It would be useless for me. I must be far stronger than I am now to undertake anything of that kind. And you must not be in a hurry to get away. You must not let Shenac think you are running away from her. Wait a while. A month or two will make no difference, and by that time the way will open before us. I don't like the thought of your taking any place that Christie More could get for you. You will be far better at home for a while."

"But, Hamish, you really think it will be better for me to go?"

"Yes--some time. Why should you be in haste? Is there any reason that you have not told me why you should wish to go?"

Shenac did not answer for a moment.

"Is it about Evan, Shenac?" asked her brother. "That could never be, I suppose."

"Who told you, Hamish? No; I think it could never be. Allister would like it, and Shenac Dhu; and I suppose to folk generally it would seem a good thing for me. But I don't like Evan in that way. No, I don't think it could ever be."

"Evan will be a rich man some day, Shenac; and you could have it all your own way there."

"Yes; Allister said that to me once. They all seem to think I would like to rule and to be rich. But I did not think you would advise me because of that, Hamish, or because Evan will be a rich man."

"I am not advising you, Shenac," said Hamish eagerly. "If you cared for Evan it would be different; but I am very glad you do not."

"I might come to care for him in time," said Shenac, a little wearily.

"But I never thought about him in that way till--till Angus Dhu spoke to me."

"Angus Dhu!" exclaimed Hamish.

"Yes--and frightened me out of my wits," said Shenac, laughing a little.

"I never answered a word, and maybe he thinks that I am willing.

Allister spoke about it too. Would it please you, Hamish? I might come to like him well enough, in time."

"No, Shenac. It would by no means please me. I am very glad you do not care for Evan--in that way. I would not like to see you Evan's wife."

There was not much said after that, though they sat a long time together in the firelight.

"Did I tell you that I had a letter from Mr Stewart to-day, Shenac?"

Hamish asked at last.

"No," said Shenac; "was he well?"

"He has a call to be minister of the church in H---, and he is to go there soon; and he says if he can possibly do it he will come this way.

It will be in six weeks or two months, if he comes at all."

Shenac said nothing to this; but when Hamish had added a few more particulars, she said,--

"Perhaps it may seem foolish, Hamish, but I want to go soon."

"Because of Evan?" asked her brother.

"Partly; or rather, because of Angus Dhu," she said, laughing. "And Allister and Shenac would like it."

"But they would never urge it against your will."

"No; I suppose not. But it is uncomfortable; and, Hamish, it is not impossible that I might let myself be persuaded."

Hamish looked grave.

"I don't know but it is the best thing that could happen to me," Shenac continued. "I am not fit for any other life, I am afraid. But I must go away for a while at any rate."

Hamish said nothing, though he looked as if he had something to say.

"If you are willing, Hamish, it will go far to satisfy Allister. And I can come back again if I should find nothing to do."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

But Shenac's work at home was not all done yet. Sitting that night by the fireside with her brother, could she have got a glimpse of the next few months and all they were to bring about, her courage might have failed her; for sorrowful as some of the past days had been, more sorrowful days were awaiting her--sorrowful days, yet sweet, and very precious in remembrance.

A very quiet and happy week pa.s.sed, and then Allister and his wife came home. There was some pleasure-seeking then, in a quiet way; for the newly-married pair were entertained by their friends, and there were a few modest gatherings in the new house, and the hands of the two Shenacs were full with the preparations, and with the arrangement of new furniture, and making all things as they ought to be in the new house.

But in the midst of the pleasant bustle Hamish fell ill. It was not much, they all thought--a cold only, which proved rather obstinate and withstood all the mild attempts made with herb-drinks and applications to remove it. But they were not alarmed about it. Even when the doctor was sent for, even when he came again of his own accord, and yet again, they were not much troubled. For Hamish had been so much better all the winter. He had had no return of his old rheumatic pains. He would soon be well again, they all said,--except himself; and he said nothing.

They were inclined to make light of his present illness, rejoicing that he was no longer racked with the terrible pains that in former winters had made his nights sleepless and his days a weariness. He suffered now, especially at first, but not as he had suffered then.

All through March he kept his bed, and through April he kept his room; but he was comfortable, comparatively--only weak, very weak. He could read, and listen to reading, and enjoy the family conversation; and his room became the place where, in the gloaming, all dropped in to have a quiet time. This room had been called during the building of the house "the mother's room," but when Hamish became ill it was fitted up for him. It was a pleasant room, having a window which looked towards the south over the finest fields of the farm, and one which looked west, where the sun went down in glory, over miles and miles of unbroken forest.

Even now, though years have pa.s.sed since then, Shenac, shutting her eyes, can see again the fair picture which that western window framed.

There is the mingling of gorgeous colours--gold, and crimson, and purple, fading into paler tints above. There is the glory of the illuminated forest, and on this side the long shadows of the trees upon the hills. Within, there is the beautiful pale face, radiant with a light which is not all reflected from the glory without--her brother's dying face.

Now, when troubles come, when fightings without and fears within a.s.sail her, when household cares make her weary, and the thought of guiding wayward hearts and wandering feet makes her afraid, the remembrance of this room comes back to her as the remembrance of Bethel or Peniel must have come to Jacob in his after-wanderings, and her strength is renewed.

For there _she_ met G.o.d face to face. There she was _smitten_, and there the same hand healed her. There she tasted the sweetness of the cup of bitterness which G.o.d puts to the lips of those of his children who humbly and willingly, through grace which he gives, drink it to the dregs. The memory of that room and the western window is like the memory of the stone which the prophet set up--"The stone of help."

"I will trust, and not be afraid."

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

The words seem to come again from the dear dying lips; and as they were surely his to trust to, to lean on when nought else could avail, so in all times of trouble Shenac knows that they are most surely hers.

But much sorrow came before the joy. March pa.s.sed, and April, and May-day came, warm and bright this year again; and for the first time for many weeks Hamish went out-of-doors. He did not go far; just down to the creek, now flowing full again, to sit a little in the sunshine, with a plaid about his shoulders and another under his feet. It was pleasant to feel the wind in his face. All the sights and sounds of spring were pleasant to him--the gurgle of the water, the purple tinge on the woods, the fields growing fair with a tender green.

Allister left the plough in the furrow, and came striding down the long field, just to say it was good to see him there. Dan shouted, "Well done, Hamish, lad!" in the distance; and little Flora risked being too late for the school, in her eagerness to gather a bunch of spring flowers for him. As for Shenac, she was altogether triumphant. There was no cloud of care darkening the brightness of her loving eyes, no fear from the past or for the future resting on her face. Looking at her, and at his fair little sister tying up her treasures for him, Hamish for a moment longed--oh, so earnestly!--to live, for their sakes.