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The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

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514<br />

<strong>The</strong> <strong>Highland</strong> Mo7ithly.<br />

His brief but ominous tiff with David now brought<br />

home to him the grave fact—which he had just begun<br />

vaguely to realise, and, <strong>of</strong> course, he dismissed the thought as<br />

soon as he did so—that as things had drifted (ah ! how<br />

pleasant was the drifting !) a crisis was imminent in his<br />

love-makings. <strong>The</strong> lane, flower-grown and bird-sung, as<br />

it were, down which he had been wandering, terminated, he<br />

clearly decerned, at cross-roads. <strong>The</strong>y were public turn-<br />

pikes. Neither <strong>of</strong> them appeared so agreeable travelling as<br />

the by-way, but he would be compelled to chose one ; not<br />

only so, but to select his future company ; and whichever<br />

way he turned a storm seemed to be brewing on the<br />

horizon.<br />

Did he love Flora, to whom he had solemnly plighted<br />

his troth, and who at that moment wore his engagement<br />

ring, and— yes, he must confess it as an important factor in<br />

the situation—cherished the emblem with all the wealth <strong>of</strong><br />

a woman's single-hearted affection. From the over-ween-<br />

ing confidence he had in her love had sprung indifference^<br />

and then his folly. After all, the woman is wise who does<br />

not shout her affection on the house-top ; feminine love<br />

should play the effectual part <strong>of</strong> a Will-o'-the-Wisp. He<br />

had loved Flora ;<br />

or at all events he thought he did, for he<br />

had nobody else to love, until Miss Somerton, brighter,,<br />

vivacious, and more lovely, had stepped in and presented<br />

a personal contrast, which, having an imagination tame as<br />

the tallow <strong>of</strong> the simile, suggested to him the brilliance <strong>of</strong><br />

the modern candle with the dull gleam <strong>of</strong> the old-fashioned<br />

spoon-lamp.<br />

To thrash the problem out, he took an after-dinner<br />

stroll through the wood, avoiding the beaten paths, and<br />

brushing his way among young trees and broom in search<br />

<strong>of</strong> that which he had never sought before—solitude. He<br />

had got afraid <strong>of</strong> the situation. It was a question <strong>of</strong> duty<br />

and inclination ; or rather <strong>of</strong> infatuation and mere liking.<br />

Which should win? <strong>The</strong> Pr<strong>of</strong>essor's philosophy had<br />

taken deep root in such a selfish nature as Richard's ;<br />

but he

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