A Daughter of Fife

"'Deed, ma'am, I think I can. I was wi' Miss Jean Anderson o' Largo for

twa years. She'll say the gude word for me, every way."

"I shall want you to be part of the day in the salesroom; but I will

provide you a suitable dress for that purpose; and I will give you ten

shillings a week, at first. Will that do?"

"It will do weel, ma'am."

"What is your name?"

"Maggie Promoter."

"Come to-morrow, Miss Promoter."

"Folks aye call me Maggie."

"Very well. Come to-morrow, Maggie."

The dress provided by Mrs. Lauder was a long, plain, black merino, tightly

fitting, with small turned back linen cuffs and collar; and Maggie looked

exceedingly handsome and stately in it. Her work was not hard, but the

hours were long, and there was no outlook. She could not lift her head and

catch from the sea the feeling of limitless space and freedom. Still she

was happy. It was better to live among strangers who always gave her the

civil word, than to be with kin who used the freedom of their relationship

only to wound and annoy her. And her little room was always a sanctuary in

which she found strength and peace. Also, the Sabbath was all her own; and

her place in the kirk to which she regularly went was generally filled an

hour before service bells. That kirk was a good place to Maggie. She was

one of those delightsome women, who in this faithless age, have a fervent

and beautiful faith in God. Into His temple she took no earthly thought,

but kept her heart, there, "one silent space,

A little sacred spot of loneliness.

Where to set up the memory of His cross,

A little quiet garden, sacred still

To visions of His sorrow, and His love"

So the weeks went calmly, and not unpleasantly away. Now and then she had

a restless heartache about David; and three times she walked all the way

to the Barony kirk, where she knew he worshiped, to get a sight of her

brother. She did not fear to do so. David Promoter, on Sabbath days,

looked neither to the right hand nor to the left. In the kirk his pale

grave face was bent toward his Bible, or lifted to the preacher. Maggie

could have sat within the touch of his hand and he would not have seen

her. But she got no comfort from these visits to David's kirk, and she

missed all the comfort of her own kirk. So she finally said to herself--

"I'll tak' my ain road, and I'll ne'er look his road, and when it will be

the right time, the twa roads will meet again."

As the summer advanced there was less work to do, and she frequently was

at home in sufficient time to stroll along Kelvin side, or visit the

Botanic Gardens. Inland scenery, trees, and, above all things, flowers,

greatly delighted her. It gave her a thrill of exquisite pleasure to tread

among long, green grass, and feel the wavering sunshine and shadows of the

woods about her; and in the midsummer month, when she was to have a short

holiday, she promised herself many days of such pure and natural enjoyment.