A Daughter of Fife

"Keep your temper and hold your tongue, Maggie. I suffer no woman to rail

in my presence. Do well, and you will be well spoken of, and doubtless

also, well treated."

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed bitterly; and his heart

relented a little. "I am glad to see the tears, Maggie; no one can do more

than be sorry for their sins and then mend them. Come, come, lassie; turn

over a new leaf, and the future shall mend the past."

"There is naething to mend, sir. I hae done no wrang to man, woman, or

child. You should hae stood up for the orphan lass, that has nae one near

to befriend her; but when a' men are against me--then I'll lippen to the

Lord!"

Her short passionate rain of tears was over. She stood erect, calm,

perhaps with an air of indifference. The doctor was much annoyed; he felt

that he had failed in reaching the girl's heart, and he went away with

that sense of irritation which our inabilities always leave with us.

Maggie did not go out of the cottage for a week. She was expecting David

home for the holidays, and she confidently looked for him to right her.

Unfortunately, David came by Kinkell, and called first at Dr. Balmuto's.

He had done very well in his Greek and Hebrew, and he wished to show the

minister that his kindness had been appreciated and improved. Dr. Balmuto

received David a little coldly. He had not really been moved to help him

by any personal liking, but rather from a conscientious conviction that

the young man had a decided vocation for theology. In fact, there had

always been a tinge of self-satisfaction about David which he seriously

disliked, and for which very reason he had once sent him back to the boats

to learn humility. Though honestly pleased at his progress, he did not

think it well to praise him too much; especially as he observed that David

boasted in a quiet way of the favor shown him by his teachers, and named,

when there was no occasion for naming it, the circumstance of having been

twice asked to dinner by Prof. Laird.

"This and that is all very well, and I am glad of it, David," he said;

"but your name must be kept stainless; and the more learned you are, the

more people will look up to you, and the more readily the fly in the

ointment will be seen and heard tell of. I am sorry to say your sister has

been very imprudent. Pittenloch does nothing but talk of her queer ways,

and doubtless there have been love promises between her and Mr. Campbell.

Now if there is ill said about him and your sister, you must see that it

puts you in a bad light to take any favor whatever from him."