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 L I B R.ARY 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U NIVERSITY 
 
 or ILLl NOIS 
 
 PBABj
 
 JANET'S CHOICE. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY CHARLOTTE PHILLPOTTS, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 MAGGIE'S SECRET.' 
 &c., &c. 
 
 IX THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 '^*^ --mm„^ 1872. 
 
 The right of Trandatioti is reserved.
 
 Digitized bythe Internet Archive 
 
 in 2009 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/janetschoice01phil
 
 c>< o 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■4 
 
 f.,3. 
 
 JANET'S CHOICE. 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^ CHAPTER I. 
 
 c<) " The sights and sounds of country 
 
 Came in the warm soft time, 
 Sung by the honeyed breezes, 
 ^ Borne on the wings of June." 
 
 ADELAIDE PKOCTOR. 
 
 A N old fashioned garden, with trim 
 walls and quaintly cut yew-trees, 
 
 ^^ through which the wind sighed, as it 
 
 ^ were impatiently, as it hurried on to 
 
 '^ breathe the fragrance of the flowers 
 
 in the well-stocked borders. Sweet- 
 
 , ; peas, mignonette, and lavender scented 
 
 '' the air, and almost concealed the 
 
 aroma of a cigar which was between 
 
 VOL. T. B
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 the lips of a young man who paced up 
 and down between the sentinel yews. 
 
 He was tall and well proportioned, 
 but there was an air of languor about 
 him which did not speak well for his 
 health ; indeed Sir Archibald Morton had 
 only just recovered from a severe ill- 
 ness, and had come to Lashiels, his 
 lowland property, for a little change of 
 air after a London season, before the 
 time came for the Highlands, and the 
 serious work of pursuing, at the same 
 time, pleasure and grouse over the 
 moor-lands at Glen-Auchmuty. 
 
 The sunshine of an evening in June 
 was turning the whole country into 
 gold. The rising grounds upon which 
 stood groups of forest trees, the valley, 
 the tumbling busy river, the far away 
 hills, were all gilded and chequered with 
 ever-changing lights and shadows.
 
 Janet's choice. 3 
 
 " What a delicious evening," the young 
 man was saying to himself, '' and what 
 a rum ghostly old place ! I wonder if my 
 ancestors take the air here at the 
 witching hour of midnight, got up in 
 correct style, in flowing white garments, 
 or in rustling silk dresses. Let me 
 see, a figure of a female should glide 
 noiselessly between me and the wall, 
 beckoning with an uplifted finger, and 
 expecting me to follow, and then it 
 would as suddenly disappear, leaving me 
 in a state of mind, which, when authors 
 feel quite unable to define it, they 
 leave it to their readers to picture, and 
 merely say ' it is better imagined than 
 described.' 
 
 '' Now that I have come down to 
 do a little ruralising for the benefit 
 of my health, and business for the 
 benefit of my pocket, would be the 
 
 B 2
 
 Janet's CHorcB. 
 
 very time for an adventure of tliis 
 kind to take place." 
 
 He took another turn along tlie path, 
 across which the shadows of the yews 
 were getting deeper and longer; then, 
 pausing at a flight of steps which 
 led to a kind of rocky wilderness be- 
 low, he listened to the blended sounds 
 from the village, which was hidden by 
 thick clusters of trees from intruding 
 on the view of the " big house," but 
 which was near enough to take away 
 the sense of loneliness which the some- 
 what gloomy appearance of Lashiels 
 might otherwise have caused. The cigar 
 was smoked out, the darkness increased, 
 and the sounds grew more hushed, 
 and at last he turned to re-enter the 
 house. 
 
 As he did so, a dark shadow flitted 
 by and startled him somewhat.
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 It was that of a female figure with 
 a hood, or shawl, drawn over the 
 head. He paused for a moment in 
 surprise. 
 
 Though by no means a . nervous or 
 superstitious man, there was something 
 strangely weird and ghostlike in the 
 whole scene ; and that the very figure 
 he had, as it were, invoked in his 
 careless musings half an hour before, 
 with the uplifted beckoning finger, should 
 Lave come and shown itself, was to 
 say the least of it a curious coincidence. 
 For an instant he paused, and then 
 his calm sense and judgment came to 
 his aid, and he determined to follow 
 the figure, as he now began to sus- 
 pect that a trick was being played 
 on him by some member of the 
 household. 
 
 Springing lightly over the low rail-
 
 jaket's choice. 
 
 ings wliicli divided the garden from 
 the meadow, he now stood forth in 
 the clear moonlight, and so came in 
 sight of two people, a young man in 
 velveteen garments, and a graceful girl, 
 standing in earnest conversation at a 
 corner of the field. The pale moon- 
 light flickered on her wavy brown 
 hair, and the shawl that had been 
 thrown over her head when she had cast 
 her ghost-like shadow on the wall, 
 now falling back, disclosed a perfectly 
 moulded head and throat, with a sad 
 pleading face uplifted. 
 
 " A pretty village romance," said Sir 
 Archibald to himself, "• a great deal 
 more to my mind than a ghost story 
 would have been." 
 
 Not wishing to spoil sport, and know- 
 iuor enouofh of the world to beheve in 
 the truth of the old adage, "Two are
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 enough, and three are too many," he 
 returned quietly and entered a low 
 door-way, whose stone porch was thickly 
 canopied with honeysuckle and white 
 jasmine. 
 
 " Come in, Archie ; good gracious, 
 what in the world do you mean by 
 standing about in the cold after such 
 an illness as you have had ?" said a 
 voice from within the pretty oriel- win- 
 dowed room. 
 
 " My lady mother ! I hope you have 
 not been waiting for me before you 
 began your tea," said Sir Archibald, 
 taking his mother's little face between 
 his strong hands, and looking down 
 on her small, slight figure with a 
 mixture of reverence and protection in 
 his gaze. 
 
 Lady Morton had a fresh, bright com- 
 plexion, and a thoroughly sweet wo-
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 inanly expression. The soft white 
 rucliing of her widow's cap was very 
 becoming to her, and gave an ideality 
 to what might once have been a pretty 
 but common-place face. There were a 
 few lines on her smooth, white fore- 
 head, which, together with a look as 
 of past tears in her eyes, told one 
 at once that she had passed through 
 troubles in her day, and had come 
 out of the fire refined and purified. 
 
 " What have you been doing all this 
 time ?" said a bright cheery voice, and 
 Archie turned with a smile to the 
 tea-table, the presiding genius of which, 
 Petronel Morton, was the beauty and 
 tyrant of the family. 
 
 Pety as she was was commonly called, 
 from the obvious reason that the ab- 
 breviated name was the most suitable one 
 to the acknowledged pet of the family.
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 Her beauty spoke for itself; it was 
 not only that Ler features were good, 
 her complexion superb, and her figure 
 splendid — true she possessed all these 
 and countless other charms ; but her 
 peculiar loveliness lay in her expression, 
 which was varied as a landscape varies 
 under passing clouds crossing April 
 sunshine. And then her smile — I might 
 as soon attempt to paint the rainbow 
 as to describe it ! It flashed out upon 
 you like a sudden Summer, lighting up 
 the whole face and reflecting itself in- 
 voluntarily on the countenances around 
 her. There were dimples too, in which 
 a deal of fascination lay hidden, waiting 
 covertly to wake up and to take the be- 
 holder by storm. 
 
 A truly dangerous young woman was 
 Petronel ; and I think she knew it, and, 
 being confident in her own powers.
 
 10 janet'r choice. 
 
 could afford to be friendly and gracious 
 to beings of an inferior order, in which 
 category she regarded those young 
 ladies less gifted than herself. 
 
 "I have been having a cigar, and 
 under the soothing influence of the smoke 
 and the still evening air, I have come 
 to the conclusion that this is not half 
 such a bad place after all," said 
 Archie, as he took his seat at the 
 tea-table. 
 
 " I only hope you and Pet won't 
 find it dull here," said Lady Morton, 
 as she glanced with maternal pride at 
 her handsome son and daughter. " I 
 know G-race will like it, it is such 
 a rest after London ; is it not, my 
 dear ?" 
 
 '' I intend to enjoy myself immensely," 
 said Grace, " and I hope to have some 
 fine weather for sketching*"
 
 Janet's choice. 11 
 
 Grace Morton was a cripple, and 
 sadly deformed, but, unlike many whose 
 minds seem to have an answering twist 
 to that of their bodies, she was the 
 gentle guiding star of the home circle. 
 
 Naturally timid, and unable, on ac- 
 count of her infirmities, to enter into the 
 active pleasures of her brother and 
 sister, her mind had taken a turn 
 of its own, and in the quiet pursuits 
 suited to her bodily weakness, she 
 found for herself a happy and ever 
 fresh life. 
 
 She had rare talents ; but living as 
 she did in complete seclusion, none of 
 the outside world guessed at them, 
 and when her pale face was occasion- 
 ally seen in the carriage, beside her 
 mother's, as Lady Morton drove in 
 the park, she was talked of as *' that 
 poor afflicted daughter of Lady Mor-
 
 12 Janet's choice. 
 
 ton's, a sad trouble in the family, I 
 fear !" 
 
 Those bright butterflies of fashion, 
 which flitted gaily from flower to 
 flower, sipping the honey only to complain 
 of the sameness of its taste, could not 
 have guessed of the rich stores of 
 sweets which that little unnoticed brown 
 moth contrived to gather in her un- 
 obtrusive flight. 
 
 She had pure instincts and a sensitive 
 imagination, and these, together with her 
 keen powers of insight and sense of 
 enjoyment in all glad outward in- 
 fluences, prevented her from ever feeling 
 dull or out of sorts. 
 
 Petronel, with her wonderful smile, 
 brought flashes of sunshine to cheer her 
 home ; but Grace's loving gentleness 
 kept warm a soft nest of happiness, 
 round which Lady Morton or Archie,
 
 Janet's choice. 13 
 
 in any trouble or chill, would gather 
 and be instantly soothed. 
 
 " Do you know, I saw a ghost to- 
 night;" said Archie, as he stirred his 
 tea. 
 
 " A ghost !" said Pet, " I should say 
 you might see them by dozens in this 
 dreary old moated grange." 
 
 *' Dreary, do you call it ?" said Archie ; 
 " I call it the jolliest place out, and 
 I am sure we shall find plenty of 
 amusement in the neighbourhood while 
 we stay here. I am quite surprised 
 that my father did not care enough for 
 this place to live here, instead of letting 
 it as he did for so many years. How- 
 ever, if Pet is dull, mother, we must 
 ask some fellows here for her to kill 
 with a glance or, if she is tired of 
 that wholesale slaughter, she can go and 
 pay visits to some of her numerous dear
 
 ]4 ^ Janet's choice. 
 
 friends in their country houses, and flirt 
 with a curate or two, just to keep her 
 hand in, you know, for fear she should 
 be out of practice by the shooting 
 season." 
 
 Petronel tossed her head impatiently, 
 and the colour mounted to her forehead 
 at her brother's words. 
 
 " I am so glad you like this dear old 
 place, Archie," said Grace, interposing, 
 as usual, to prevent an explosion from 
 Petronel. " I remember so well when 
 you were at Eton, I stayed here for 
 six months with Aunt Georgie, when 
 Uncle Robert was living here. It was 
 so delightful ! There is no end of 
 good places for fishing in the river, 
 and, as far as I know, the country 
 neighbours are very nice people. But 
 you have never told us about the ghost ! 
 and now it is so near bed-time, that I
 
 Janet's choice. 15 
 
 ought not to have reminded you of it, 
 or we shall all of us retire quaking to 
 our apartments." 
 
 " ]\Iy ghost was not a very alarming 
 one," said Archie. " It turned out to 
 be substantial enough in the full light 
 of the moon, though shadowy enough 
 under the wall. It proved to be nothing 
 more or less than a village girl with 
 a shawl thrown over her head, holding 
 an interesting conversation with her 
 ' young man.' " 
 
 '' I hope you did not interrupt!" said 
 Petronel, laughing. 
 
 *' No, my dear, I looked the other 
 wav, in the same manner as I did when 
 I saw you dancing so often with Lord 
 Veryphast, at Lady Toddleton's ball, do 
 you remember ?" 
 
 Petronel rushed at her brother laugh- 
 ingly, and tried to stop his mouth
 
 16 Janet's choice. 
 
 witli lier fair white hand, and Lady 
 Morton announced that, as the children 
 were becoming troublesome, she should 
 move an adjournment to bed.
 
 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " God gives us love. Something to love 
 He lends us ; but when love is grown 
 To ripeness, that on which it throve 
 Falls off, and love is left alone." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 A NDREW MACPHERSON, the tenant 
 of the home-farm at Lashiels, was 
 a hard man. 
 
 True, he had always passed muster, 
 in the little world to which he be- 
 longed, as a respectable, hardworking 
 farmer, who kept himself and his family 
 above the mean subterfuges to which so 
 many have recourse in order to keep 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 18 Janet's choice. 
 
 their beads above water. But, in spite 
 of this, he was known as a hard man, 
 extracting his full money's worth out 
 of every thing that was worth money, 
 and never making allowances for ill- 
 health, troubles, or any other infirmity 
 which interfered wdth the labour of any 
 whom he employed. 
 
 Tie was a tall powerful man, his 
 shoulders a good deal bent, and his 
 large head, with its mat of thick, bushy 
 red hair, drooping somewhat forward on 
 his breast. 
 
 Money was his one hope and ambition 
 in life, it was his faith and his religion, 
 his hard task- master and the idol to 
 which he bowed down. 
 
 He was, it is needless to say, more 
 feared than loved in his house ; indeed, 
 the sound of his footstep in the passage, 
 or of his harsh voice raised (as it so
 
 Janet's choice. 19 
 
 often was) in scolding accents, was in- 
 stantly the signal for a sudden pause 
 in the conversation whicli was going 
 on amongst the woman-kind. 
 
 His whole nature was kept down and 
 stultified by the grinding tyranny of 
 gold, and even his natural senses seemed 
 to have been dimmed by its corrosive 
 properties ; and he could not look around 
 and see that his lot had fallen in a fair 
 ground, but, ever as he gazed, his eyes 
 fixed themselves on some object for which 
 money might be obtained, or some spot 
 of barren land by the neglect of which 
 money had been wasted. 
 
 His wife feared him even more than 
 his daughters did. She was a poor weak 
 body, but with a strong loving heart. 
 
 All the joy had been trodden early 
 out of her life by the death of her two 
 bonny boys, her pride and delight.
 
 20 JANET S CHOICE. 
 
 Tbey had died when quite young of 
 a low fever, which was at that time 
 raging in the village, and she was then 
 left with only one child, Janet, her 
 eldest daughter. Since then, three more 
 little girls had been born, and each time 
 when the father had received the news 
 that another daughter had been sent 
 instead of the son he so longed for, his 
 manner grew sterner and colder, until 
 his poor wife shut up her griefs within 
 her aching heart, and sought no more 
 for the sympathy she was sure never to 
 gain from him. 
 
 Susan, Alice, and Emma were merry, 
 pretty girls, in all the glory of perfect 
 health, but Janet was as superior to 
 any of them as is the majestic swan to 
 the quacking brood of ducks that swim 
 round her in the pond. 
 
 Janet was about twenty-five years old
 
 Janet's choice. 21 
 
 at the time this story begins, and the 
 reader has been already introduced to 
 her, though in rather a ghostly guise, 
 as she stood talking to Donald Inverarity, 
 the under-keeper at Lashiels, by the light 
 of the Summer moon. 
 
 Donald and Janet had been play-mates 
 long ago, in the happy days when her 
 little brothers had been ahve, and when 
 they used to wander about at their own 
 sweet wills among the woods and dales 
 round Lashiels. 
 
 The village, with the everlasting hills 
 overshadowing it, with the river running 
 through it, and the cool splashing noise 
 of the water-fall forming a sort of 
 background sound to their merry voices 
 and ringing laughter ; all seemed to 
 make up a picture of youth and home 
 which would have satisfied Janet for 
 ever. But Donald was of a more ad-
 
 22 Janet's choice. 
 
 venturous turn of mind, and even in 
 those child-like days long ago, he had 
 astonished his little companions by the 
 daring flights of his fancy, and his long- 
 ings for things totally at variance with 
 their quiet hfe in the glen. 
 
 He was a true offspring of the hills, 
 sturdy, self-rehant, and courageous, and 
 many a time would Janet's little face 
 blanch with terror at the trees he would 
 climb, and the rocky cliffs he would scale 
 in search of the wild bird's eggs for her. 
 
 So happy they had been together ! 
 Janet often looked back on those days 
 as on a dream of bhss. Then had come 
 the trouble, her brothers' deaths, and 
 her own lonely childhood. When she 
 wandered listlessly about in the old 
 haunts, a sad little girl, with her large 
 grey eyes heavy with tears, it was Donald 
 who would come and cheer her with
 
 Janet's choice. 23 
 
 his bright hopes and fancies, and the 
 marvellous visions of future delights in 
 which Janet was always to share. 
 
 " For you know, Janet, when I am 
 a man and have been all over the world, 
 I will come back and you shall be my 
 little wife," Donald would say, and Janet 
 would put her little brown hand into 
 his strong one, and dry her eyes and 
 look up at his face and be comforted. 
 
 When the first snowdrop put its head 
 above the cold wintry ground, Donald 
 would gather it and carry it carefully to 
 give to Janet ; when Spring advanced 
 he would search the banks and hedgerows 
 for the pale primrose for her ; he would 
 tell her when and where the birds were 
 building; all about the rook parliament 
 which he had watched, and how many 
 eggs there were in the swallow's nest 
 under the eaves of the stable-roof. They
 
 24 Janet's choice. 
 
 had grown up to be friends, and as years 
 went by, and Donald became tbe hand- 
 somest lad in the village, and the soft 
 down appeared on his chin, then Janet 
 used to gaze at him with blushing delight, 
 and rejoice when any word of praise of 
 him fell on her ears. 
 
 At last when he was nineteen, a terrible 
 change came. The war in the Crimea 
 broke out, and in the stir it made all over 
 the world, a little wave of the great 
 trouble washed over the quiet village of 
 Lashiels. 
 
 Donald's love of adventure was still 
 strong within him, and only required 
 a stir to make it blaze forth anew. A 
 recruiting sergeant on his way North to 
 wake the ardour of the young High- 
 landers, was not likely to let such a 
 promising piece of bone and sinew pass, 
 and accordingly tried his arts on Donald,
 
 Janet's choice. 25 
 
 who, nothing loth, took the shilHng, and 
 became the servant of Her Most Gracious 
 Majesty Queen Victoria, and pledged to 
 fight her battles, and defend her country. 
 It was only when Donald saw the sad 
 look of Janet's eyes, when he told her 
 the news, that he at all realized what the 
 separation from her would cost him. 
 
 She was such a child that no serious 
 thouofhts of love and marriasre had as 
 yet disturbed her serenity, but Donald's 
 protecting care had been so very dear 
 to her, and she had no one whom she could 
 love so well, and altogether poor Janet 
 felt very miserable. 
 
 It was in vain for him to talk of 
 glory, of splendid victories, and of pro- 
 motion sure and speedy. The very 
 words he used to cheer her, only added 
 poignancy to her grief, for they showed 
 her how real that grief was.
 
 26 Janet's choice. 
 
 So Donald went to the Crimea, and 
 from time to time newspapers would 
 penetrate to the little village, and fill 
 all hearts with awe and wonder at the 
 accounts of battles won and brave deeds 
 done. And Janet would steal away 
 to a quiet corner, when her little sisters 
 were playing happily together, and weave 
 a bright web of dream-land fancies, 
 in which all the golden deeds of 
 heroism were wrought by her own 
 hero; and truly the romances of her 
 simple mind were not more fantastic, 
 more unreal, tlian those of many 
 older and wiser than she was have 
 been. 
 
 Time went on, and Janet was no longer 
 allowed to be idle. 
 
 Her father, who was too much occu- 
 pied with his farming and money-making 
 to notice his children, suddenly awoke
 
 Janet's choice. 27 
 
 to the fact that Janet was growing 
 into a young woman. 
 
 " No more idleness for you, Miss," 
 he exclaimed, the day this idea first 
 dawned upon him. '' Do you think I 
 am to toil and slave in order that my 
 girls may be useless fine ladies ? No, 
 indeed, you must all put your shoulders 
 to the wheel and help on the family 
 coach. The dairy-maid has given notice 
 to quit at the term, and you must 
 take her place for the future and not 
 sit with your hands before you, or 
 reading your silly books any longer." 
 
 It was not in Janet's nature to love 
 idleness, indeed her father libelled her 
 when he accused her of want of in- 
 dustry ; but she had never before known 
 what it was to be driven to work, and 
 at first the drudgery seemed more than 
 she could bear.
 
 28 Janet's cfioioe. 
 
 Time, however, softens all tbiDgs, and 
 by the end of the first year, when her 
 butter was sought after in the market, 
 and her cream was always rich and good, 
 her heart awakened to real interest in 
 her work, and she forgot her miseries 
 in the result of her labours. 
 
 A true woman rejoices in the successful 
 performance of a duty, and Janet's in- 
 terest in her pans of cream and yellow 
 pounds of butter grew and expanded 
 till she felt almost as happy in her own 
 domain as she used to do in the olden 
 days, as she sat beneath the flowering 
 thorn, listening to Donald's fairy-castles 
 in the air. Meanwhile, the war went 
 on, and at last came to an end, and 
 Janet began to ask herself how soon it 
 would be possible for Donald to come 
 home. 
 
 Days, weeks, months passed, and no
 
 Janet's choice. 29 
 
 tidings reached Lashiels of the doings 
 of the village hero, for so he was 
 generally considered among the simple 
 folk. 
 
 At last it became known that Donald 
 Inverarity had taken service with a young 
 officer who had purchased his discharge, 
 and had set out for a prolonged course 
 of travel through foreign lands. 
 
 So years slipped by, and Janet grew 
 from a pretty, thoughtful child to a 
 beautiful young woman. She had been 
 so long expecting Donald to come home, 
 that when he did return, bronzed and 
 travel-stained, and came up to her sud- 
 denly one evening as she stood on the 
 brow of the hill behind the house, she 
 was almost stunned for a moment, and 
 refused to believe the evidence of her own 
 senses. 
 
 Twilight was stealing over the land-
 
 30 Janet's choice. 
 
 scape, the air was still, and the grey, 
 fleecy, clouds were piled up in masses 
 round the mountain tops. The white 
 mists were rising from the valley, might 
 not the figure she saw coming towards 
 her be some weird spirit of the glen or 
 fell, of whom she had read so often in 
 her old books of ballads. 
 
 But one look at Donald's honest blue 
 eyes made it all right, and sent doubt, 
 fear, and superstition flying on the wings 
 of the evening breeze. With what joy 
 they met, and how openly and eagerly 
 they walked home together to her father's 
 house she never forgot ! 
 
 It was so natural, so right that they 
 should be together. Did she not belong 
 to him ? Had he not been everything 
 to her ever since they were children ? 
 
 Proudly and joyfully she opened the 
 kitchen-door and ushered him in.
 
 Janet's choice. 31 
 
 Her motlier was sitting knitting by 
 the fire-light, while her father engrossed 
 the whole lis^ht of the one candle he 
 allowed to be burnt at a time, and was 
 sitting at the table making up his weekly 
 accounts in his ledger. 
 
 His brow was bent more than usual, 
 and there was a light in those grey eyes 
 of his as they twinkled restlessly beneath 
 the overshadowing pent - houses of his 
 eyebrows, that Janet would not have 
 dared to face had she not been so un- 
 commonly happy and brave. 
 
 *' Father, Donald is here, dear Donald ! 
 he has come back at last after all these 
 years, and I knew him at once, in spite 
 of his beard, the moment I saw him 
 smile." 
 
 For an instant there was an ominous 
 silence in the long low-raftered room. 
 A lull as if the elements were gathering
 
 32 Janet's choice. 
 
 for a storm, and then it broke. Fast 
 and furious fell the words from the old 
 man's lips as he bid the stranger begone, 
 and never darken his door again. 
 
 '' The son of a murderer," he said, 
 " should never be seen talking to a 
 daughter of his." 
 
 Then as Janet, in bewilderment, only 
 clung the faster to the strong young 
 arm on which she had been leaning, he 
 turned to her and ordered her at once 
 to swear never again to speak to, or 
 even to recognise Donald — never to allow 
 him to come near her — never to breathe 
 his name again ! 
 
 *' No, vou must never swear that !" 
 whispered Donald to the frightened girl, 
 and even in that moment of amazement 
 and agony she relapsed naturally into 
 her old obedience to him, and was silent 
 at his bidding.
 
 Janet's choice. 33 
 
 LoDg they spoke, those two men, with 
 their strong natures roused, and their 
 words coming rapidly to their lips. 
 
 '* A murderer's son shall never darken 
 my doors !" said Andrew Macpherson 
 again, as he grasped the back of his 
 chair with both hands, and glared fiercely 
 at the stranger. 
 
 " I am not a murderer's son ! and who 
 dares to say that I am ? Who dares to 
 say a word against my father ?" retorted 
 Donald. 
 
 " Ay, but he was a murderer, and that 
 I know full well, and can prove it to you, 
 though I doubt not that ye know it well 
 enough already, so I may just spare my 
 breath ! Begone, I tell ye ! and never 
 seek mouth-speech of a child of mine 
 again, if you wisli not for a father's 
 curse !" said he. 
 
 " I do not believe it for a moment," 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 Janet's choice. 
 
 said Dooald, " my father was an honest 
 man, as honest, and maybe, more so than 
 many another who does not hesitate to 
 take away the character of the dead, 
 though they may have feared to do so 
 beforehand. However, I never wish to 
 go where I am not w^anted, so I will wish 
 you good evening, and I will take very 
 good care I don't enter this house again 
 till I can iJTOve your words false !" 
 
 "Donald!" pleaded Janet, ''don't 
 leave us in anger ! may be father is 
 mistaken." 
 
 '^ May he he is mistaken!" echoed 
 Donald, indignantly. " He is mistaken, 
 and I will prove it to him some 
 dav !" 
 
 " Janet, T forbid you to speak to that 
 man," said Andrew ; " shut the house 
 door and go upstairs to your bed, 
 you graceless hussy !"
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 So Janet crept softly upstairs to lier 
 own little room in the roof, while 
 Donald strode off into the darkness, 
 angry at his reception, and still more 
 at the insinuations aeainst his father's 
 fair fame. 
 
 All seemed chano^ed. A few short 
 moments before he had been in 
 the hey-day of cheerful prosperity ; 
 now a curtain of thick, heavy cloud 
 had fallen between him and the light, 
 and he was determined to grope his 
 way out of it. 
 
 Donald, in spite of his love of ad- 
 venture, was rather slow of mind, slow, 
 that is to say, in taking in a new 
 idea, but when once he had mastered 
 a subject he clung to it with peculiar 
 tenacity, turning it this way and that 
 way, and sifting it thoroughly to the 
 bottom. 
 
 D 2
 
 o6 Janet's choice. 
 
 If this accusation were true, he could 
 not stay in his native village to be 
 scorned and hooted at, as he knew 
 he should be, if the malice of his 
 enemy proclaimed his disgrace. No, 
 he could not bear it ! There was a 
 spring in his nature which bid him 
 break the ties that bound him to that 
 spot and go off into the wide world 
 again. 
 
 What were the ties that bound him to 
 Lashiels ? They were not many. He was 
 an orphan, and had been brought up by 
 an uncle and aunt, and now he re- 
 turned to find his aunt dead, and 
 his uncle living with a daughter of 
 his by a former marriage, of no kin 
 to Donald. There was one tie which 
 he could not bear to break. 
 
 How could he leave Janet ? 
 
 Yet there was no troth plighted be-
 
 Janet's choice. 37 
 
 tu'een them. In all tlie years that he 
 had been away, he had thought of her 
 as his child-companion, his play-mate — 
 a merry, pretty little girl ; but now that 
 he had seen her again, and had seen 
 how beautiful she had grown, there 
 had come into his mind the knowledge 
 that he had loved her all these years 
 though he knew it not. 
 
 No, he could not leave her; even 
 thouofh he mio^ht not see her, he would 
 stay near and see what came of it. 
 Right would be ■ sure to prosper in the 
 end, and he had the firm conviction of 
 an honest man that right was on his side.
 
 38 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " When a world-clinging spirit would struggle and die 
 With a wasted tear and a fruitless sigh, 
 The bowed flower that in heaven hath put its trust 
 Shall rise in fresh beauty out of the dust." 
 
 TANET liad retired to her room in a 
 mist of unrealized suffering. Some- 
 thing had happened, what she could 
 hardly yet attempt to define, but some- 
 thing which took the zest out of her 
 life and turned her for the time being 
 into stone. She had sat on till the 
 chill night air made her shiver, and 
 mechanically at last she had gone to bed ;
 
 Janet's choice. :V.) 
 
 Morning at length came, and with 
 her waking moments, calmer, clearer 
 thoughts. 
 
 We never know a sorrow till it has 
 been a nio^ht with us. It is on awakincy 
 after a heavy slumber, that we realize 
 that something has happened to us ; 
 something that is not a dream, but a 
 constant companion from which we can- 
 not fly ; a burden which we are obliged, 
 perforce, to lift up and carry about with 
 us in all our duties and projects, and 
 which we cannot lay down for a single 
 instant. She rose early and went about 
 her duties in the dairy as usual, and it 
 was not till her mother's pale timid face 
 peeped in at the door, that Janet realized 
 that it would be possible to have sym- 
 pathy in her trouble. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! I feel as if an east 
 wind were blowing over my heart, and
 
 40 Janet's choice. 
 
 as if notliiEg would ever grow or look 
 fresh there again," she said. 
 
 The pale wintry sun was just rising 
 feebly mid clouds and scudding rain- 
 showers. The air was cold even in the 
 kitchen, but in the dairy, with its stone 
 floor and grated windows, it was almost 
 unbearable. 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson's nose was red and 
 her face pale with the cold, and her voice 
 shook as she replied to her daughter's 
 pitiful lament. 
 
 " Dear Janet, don't you fret," she said. 
 '' Father did not mean what he said last 
 night ; besides, even if a man's father is 
 a murderer, that does not make him one 
 himself; and after all, there are many 
 other young men, if this one is a bad 
 one." 
 
 There was a bathos in this speech ; a 
 rigmarole of feminine and illogical reason-
 
 Janet's choice. 41 
 
 ing, that made Janet smile in spite of her- 
 self. It amused her to see her mother's 
 perplexed look as she doubted in her 
 mind what next to say; and as she 
 stood shivering in the cold, divided 
 between the idea that her beautiful 
 daughter might choose for herself among 
 the lads of the whole hill-side, and a de- 
 sire to mete out justice impartially, by 
 proving to the world that a murderer's 
 son need not necessarily be a murderer 
 also. 
 
 It is strano^e how near akin are tears 
 and laughter. April weather is very 
 common all the year round, especially 
 with young women who have a love 
 affair on hand. 
 
 Janet was young, and naturally of a 
 light-hearted and buoyant disposition; 
 and when the comical side of the picture 
 showed itself to her view, she woke up to
 
 42 Janet's chojce. 
 
 the fact that perhaps after all she had 
 taken too gloomy a view of matters last 
 night, and that all would come right in the 
 end in spite of her father's violent ways. 
 
 He had been at the cattle-market, and 
 though usually a sober, and even an ab- 
 stemious man, might it not be possible 
 that he had been enticed into drinkiner 
 more than was good for him ? If so, 
 perhaps it was the whiskey that had ex- 
 cited him so much the evening before ! 
 
 Youth is hopeful, and by the time her 
 butter was made Janet had worked her- 
 self into a far more comfortable state of 
 mind. 
 
 Her father, too, had business at a dis- 
 tance from home that day, and would not 
 be back till late at night ; so at all events 
 there was a whole day's breathing-time 
 before she need dread auy fresh scenes. 
 
 But we must hasten on till we catch up
 
 Janet's choick. 43 
 
 the story at the time of Sir Archibald 
 Morton's evening stroll on the yew-tree 
 terrace. 
 
 More than four months had elapsed 
 since the fracas between her father 
 and Donald, and Janet had heard very 
 few words more on the subject. 
 
 Donald never came near the house, 
 that was to be expected ; but on Sundays 
 he sat behind them in church, and Janet 
 could hardly contain herself as she heard 
 his rich voice joining in the hymns. 
 
 After service, too, he would always 
 wait at the door to catch them as they 
 left the church, and though at first Janet 
 shook with fright lest another and more 
 terrible scene should be enacted between 
 her father and her lover, at which the 
 whole hill-side population should be called 
 upon to assist, gradually her fears sub- 
 sided, as she noticed how her father's
 
 44 Janet's choice. 
 
 eye quailed beneath Donald's fearless 
 glance, and bow hastily he shuffled off 
 homewards, not seeming to notice 
 Donald's greetings to his four daughters. 
 
 It was a poor and meagre satisfaction 
 that weekly meeting, but half a loaf is 
 better than no bread, and Janet lived upon 
 this scanty meal till the next Sunday came. 
 
 She had never had an opportunity of a 
 word in private with Donald till that 
 very evening in June when he found 
 her wandering listlessly in the meadows, 
 and had explained to her his prospects 
 and his present mode of life. 
 
 '' I have got the post of under-keeper, 
 Janet," he said, " and my work will keep 
 me very near you, at all events." 
 
 " I am glad of that," said Janet, simply. 
 '' I am glad, and yet sorry too, for I am 
 always afraid of a meeting between you 
 and father."
 
 Janet's choice. 45 
 
 ** You need not be frightened, Janet, 
 dear," he said, " I am old enough and big 
 enough to take care of myself. 
 
 " Can you at all tell what father meant 
 by what he said?" said Janet timidly. 
 She was afraid to mention the terrible 
 word her father had made use of, but 
 Donald understood her in an instant. 
 
 " I am on the track, dear," he said. 
 " I am busy making inquiries amongst 
 people who know something both of your 
 father and mine, and if what 1 suspect is 
 true, I do not think my poor old daddy 
 need rest the worse in his grave, whatever 
 others may do between their blankets." 
 
 Janet looked up quickly as he spoke 
 these words. A new fear had suddenly 
 come upon her. What did he mean by 
 what he said ? The sight of the sweet, 
 pale face, down which the tears were now 
 chasing each other in big drops, which
 
 46 Janet's choice. 
 
 gleamed in the moonlight, and the sound 
 of her trembling voice, instantly melted 
 Donald's heart, and he hastened to reas- 
 sure her. 
 
 He had spoken at random, he said, 
 he meant nothing by his words; at all 
 events, in seeking to prove his father's 
 innocence, he need not and would not try 
 to prove another's guilt. 
 
 It was at this point in their conversa- 
 tion that the young laird had shown 
 himself to them at the terrace steps, and 
 the knowledge that their interview had 
 been seen, and might possibly be com- 
 mented upon, put Janet into such a state 
 of fright that she was inclined to rush 
 instantly off home. 
 
 " You shan't go yet, Janet," said 
 Donald, holding her fast by the hand. 
 '' I shall not let you go till you give me 
 a promise never to doubt me whatever
 
 Janet's choice. 47 
 
 happens. Promise me to believe that I 
 am actiDg honourably, whatever others 
 may tell yon. Promise me that you will 
 trust me to the end !" 
 
 He spoke vehemently, and in his agita- 
 tion and earnestness he grasped Janet 
 firmly by the arm, as if he expected her 
 to run away and hide from him and to 
 shun him for ever. 
 
 But she was far from wishing to shun 
 him. She merely looked quietly up at 
 him and said : '' Of course, I will trust 
 you, Donald ; I would as soon dream of 
 doubting myself as of doubting you." 
 
 So he could not but believe her. 
 
 "Janet," he added, '' remember, what- 
 ever happens, that you and I belong to 
 each other. Is it not so, dear?" he 
 added, softly, as he took her hand be- 
 tween his own two strong ones. 
 
 " Of course," said Janet, and she looked
 
 48 Janet's choice. 
 
 at him so naturally and guilelessly, that 
 Donald trembled. 
 
 " She is too open," he thought, '' too 
 simple about it to be really in love with 
 me ; it is only the old friendship and a 
 sort of sisterly affection." 
 
 But he was mistaken. Janet had given 
 him the best of her heart, and of her 
 heart's love, and what the best of such 
 a heart as hers is, let him who knows 
 think himself fortunate, no matter in 
 what walk of life he may find himself. 
 
 As for Donald, though he trembled for 
 a moment, as he fancied it was only a 
 sisterly regard which Janet had for him, 
 still his natural vanity was soothed by 
 her perfect trust in him. 
 
 He was a very human being after all, 
 though undoubtedly a fine fellow and a 
 real hero in Janet's eyes. It was a 
 source of great satisfaction to him to
 
 Janet's choice. 49 
 
 know that there was a woman in the 
 world who cared for him deeply, and, 
 though without the smallest particle of 
 vanity, he accepted the belief of her affec- 
 tion readily. 
 
 But after all was it only affection, or 
 was it love ? 
 
 So, while Janet glowed with dehght in 
 an ecstatic day-dream, Donald chafed a 
 little at being, as he imagined, the object 
 of a merely Platonic love. It was a 
 strange, wild phase of self - delusion 
 through which he was passing, instruct- 
 ive, perhaps, but hardly pleasant for the 
 time being. 
 
 As for Janet, she knew that though 
 she was going back to her old, lonely 
 life at the farm, among her cows and her 
 pans of cream and rolls of butter, to say 
 nothing of the human companions hardly 
 more sympathising, still she was going 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 Janet's choice. 
 
 back with such a warm, happy glow in 
 her heart that neither the chill of neoflect 
 nor the cold of disappointment could 
 seriously hurt her. 
 
 What did the whole world signify to 
 her now ? She and Donald understood 
 each other, and had promised to be faith- 
 ful and true to one another till death, ay, 
 and through death to all Eternity. 
 
 While Donald was fretting a little at 
 her calmness, which he took for want of 
 fervour and passion, he was in reality 
 quite incapable of fathoming the depth of 
 that pure, clear love of hers. It did not 
 so much fill her life as it ivas her life, and 
 being so, she could no more measure it 
 than she could have meted out her own 
 Hfe-blood and stood by to count the drops. 
 
 Donald was giving her all that it was 
 in his power to give, all his strength of 
 feeling, all his power of affection ; that
 
 Janet's choice. 51 
 
 which he had never before given to any 
 human creature he was now lavishing 
 upon her, and he could not help the 
 thought that what he gave was too 
 precious to be wasted. With Janet such 
 a thought could never have troubled her, 
 for her whole heart had been given to 
 her lover from the days of her early 
 childhood, and she could not change 
 now. 
 
 If she seemed cold, it was only be- 
 cause the idea that they were all-in-all to 
 one another was not a new one to her, 
 but had been natural and obvious for 
 years past. 
 
 Donald could not understand this. He 
 had been fond of the Httle girl who had 
 been his companion and play-mate ; in- 
 deed he had loved her as a big boy 
 loves a little, tender sister; but that 
 was all. It was only when, on his return 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 iiNivFRsmr OF nmors
 
 52 
 
 JANET S CHOICE. 
 
 from his wanderings, he saw Janet as 
 she was, that the new fire of love 
 lighted up the old embers of affection, 
 and he knew that she, and she alone, 
 was the one being in the world for whose 
 sake, and at whose side, the battle of 
 life would be worth fighting. Hers was 
 the truest and deepest love ; but his was 
 the strongest and most apparent, and so 
 he contrasted hers unfavourably with his 
 own. 
 
 '' Oh ! Janet, if you only knew how I 
 love you ;" he murmured, as they re- 
 luctantly parted, and she smiled a sweet 
 tender smile, which meant that she did 
 know, and was quite satisfied ; but which 
 he read to mean quite the reverse. 
 
 Is it true about the little rift, I wonder, 
 about which the poet sings ? 
 
 Is it true that by-and-by it will make. 
 the music mute ? The music was sweet
 
 Janet's choice. 63 
 
 enough, at any rate that evening, under 
 the shadow of the tall Scotch firs, and 
 by the flickering light of the pale moon !
 
 54 
 
 CHAPTER ly. 
 
 " In the wood where shadows are deepest 
 
 From the branches overhead, 
 
 "Where the wild wood-strawberries cluster, 
 
 And the softest moss is spread, 
 
 I met to-day with a fairy, 
 
 And I followed her where she led." 
 
 A. P. 
 
 nm ARCHIBALD MORTON soon re- 
 gained his bealth under the influence 
 of the pure air of Lashiels, and there 
 seemed no end to the amusements and 
 interests which he and his sister, Pe- 
 tronel, found for themselves. Sometimes 
 it was a ride over the hills, sometimes a 
 fishing expedition, or a picnic with some 
 of their country neighbours, all of whom
 
 Janet's choice. 55 
 
 gladly welcomed the Lashiels party 
 amongst them. 
 
 Petronel was herself an ornament to 
 any society, and as she and her brother 
 were not deterred by distances from 
 riding or driving about the country, the 
 circle of their acquaintances soon spread 
 in every direction. 
 
 One morning they were standing ready 
 for a start, as they had arranged to join 
 a picnic to a lovely spot at some dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Petronel was looking even more than 
 usually blooming, with the fresh colour 
 in her cheeks and the golden light in her 
 beautiful hair, shown to the best advan- 
 tage by the dark blue feather in her hat. 
 
 Sir Archibald was going to drive his 
 sister in his mail-phaeton, and was 
 putting on his driving-gloves as he stood 
 at the hall door.
 
 56 Janet's choice. 
 
 Suddenly a quick souud of horses* feet 
 was heard, and a groom rode hastily up 
 to the door with a note in his hand. 
 It was directed to Miss Morton, and 
 though that title really belonged to Grace, 
 it was so generally given to Petronel, that 
 she opened the missive unhesitatingly. 
 
 " I say, Archie, Colonel Power has 
 had an accident, so the picnic is put off. 
 It was lucky we got the note in time to 
 stop us, was it not ?" said she. 
 
 Sir Archibald went out to make in- 
 quiries on the subject of his friend's 
 accident, which proved to be a severe 
 one, a fall from his horse having resulted 
 in compound fracture of the arm. 
 
 Petronel seated herself at the writing- 
 table to indite a note of condolence, and 
 had just finished it when her brother 
 came in again. 
 
 '' Well, Pet," he said, good-humouredly,
 
 Janet's choice. 57 
 
 "where shall we go? As the trap is 
 waitiDg we may as well have a drive, 
 though we can't go to the picnic." 
 
 " No, thank you, Archie," said Pe- 
 tronel, rather shortly, '^ I don't care to 
 go anywhere to-day. If I am disap- 
 pointed in any arrangement for one day, 
 I never care to do anything else ; it was 
 very provoking of that stupid man to go 
 and get thrown from his horse to-day 
 of all days in the year ; why could he 
 not have waited till to-morrow ?" 
 
 Archie gazed at his sister with amaze- 
 ment, as she spoke these words. With 
 all her faults, her hastiness of temper, 
 and her dislike of contradiction, she had 
 never been unfeeling before ; some fresh 
 freak seemed to have come over her, 
 and it was hardly a becoming one. Ar- 
 chie had often expressed his belief that 
 the profoundest and most inexplicable
 
 58 Janet's choice. 
 
 problems were women; so he merely 
 raised his eye-brows, shrugged his 
 shoulders, and turned quietly on his 
 heel, casually remarking to Grace as he 
 passed her : 
 
 " Weather variable, wind shifty, clouds 
 impending, look out for squalls. When- 
 ever I see the storm-signals hoisted; I 
 make for a safe port." 
 
 As he did not care for a solitary drive, 
 he ordered the carriage to be sent back, 
 and arming himself with his fishing-tackle 
 set out for a stroll down the river. 
 
 It was a lovely morning, fresh and 
 bright, with delightful deep shadows 
 under the trees, which spread their 
 branches with most inviting coolness 
 along the river's bank. 
 
 Fresh from the glare and bustle of 
 London, and still a little languid after 
 his long illness, Sir Archibald Morton
 
 Janet's choice. 59 
 
 tliorouglily appreciated the sweet harmony 
 of that quiet country scene. 
 
 There may be very splendid music in a 
 crowd, but how often is there not some 
 jar in it, some httle crack within the 
 flute that will widen slowly and imper- 
 ceptibly, and at last make the music mute. 
 
 It is an old story — that longing, dis- 
 satisfied feeling which comes over us in 
 the midst of a throng, and in the heart of 
 what the world calls " merry-making." 
 Sir Archibald Morton was very far from 
 being what may be called a sentimental 
 young man ; no doubt he had his finer 
 feelings, his deeper, inner self; but as yet 
 the surface life was a very untroubled 
 one, and day after day glided by, leaving 
 very httle mark upon his life. 
 
 The glory and sunshine which had 
 rested on his boyhood had not faded yet, 
 and very little of the freshness of the
 
 60 Janet's chotce. 
 
 young Eton boy bad been trodden out of 
 the tall handsome man by contact with 
 the world. 
 
 There are some people who give one 
 strongly the idea that their characters 
 are clad with the plumage of the dove. 
 They may rub and jostle against others 
 tainted by the less pure things in this 
 world, but yet they do not become soiled 
 in the contact. 
 
 Archie's nature happily partook of this 
 peculiarity, and the well-spring of his life 
 had hitherto flowed on untroubled and 
 unpolluted. 
 
 He was blest with a strong power of 
 enjoyment, and in that particular he was 
 ]|jore highly gifted than half the young 
 men of the present day. Every breath of 
 the soft balmy air, every smile of the 
 beautiful sunshine found an echo and an 
 answer in the clear fountain of his soul.
 
 Janet's choice. 61 
 
 It was this power of appreciation that 
 prevented his being spoilt hj the 
 flatterers. 
 
 He took the world as he found it, and 
 believed it to be bright, charming, and 
 amusing, and it never for one moment 
 struck him that it was possible the charm 
 might be broken, were it not that he was 
 young, eligible, of large fortune and 
 ancient descent. 
 
 He was used to being petted and made 
 much of, and no doubt, had the world sud- 
 denly found cause to turn upon him its 
 pold shoulder, he would have been exceed- 
 ingly uncomfortable and annoyed, but at 
 present, never having felt the chill, he 
 refused to believe in its existence 
 Petronel's moods were almost the only 
 clouds that flecked his fair sky, and to 
 them he was getting so used that he 
 reorarded them as mere matters of course.
 
 bli JANET S CnOICE. 
 
 " It would have been the very day for 
 a drive," he muttered to himself as he 
 climbed a railing, and let himself down to 
 the river's brink. 
 
 " It would have been the very day for 
 a good drive along the mountain side ; the 
 nags are in first-rate condition, and would 
 have spun along famously. However, a 
 wilful woman must have her own way, 
 and luckily for me fishing is a pursuit 
 that may be undertaken without company. 
 I should be jolly enough here all day long, 
 without a soul to speak to. I can't 
 understand what fellows mean by getting 
 bored with their own society. I am never 
 tired of mine, but consider myself a most 
 agreeable companion. What is it that 
 some fellow says, ' My mind to me a 
 kingdom is.' " 
 
 In such manner his thoughts ran, 
 and he was, as he said, perfectly contented,
 
 Janet's choice. 63 
 
 as be paced the green walk along the 
 river's bank, and made ready his fly for a 
 cast. 
 
 Time went on, and his basket was 
 already getting heavy, when the deep 
 shadow of an oak-tree, by the side of 
 which grew a graceful birch, was too 
 tempting to be resisted. " Come," he said, 
 " ' Something attempted, something done, 
 has earned a night's repose,' as the poet 
 says, so I think I am entitled to a little 
 rest after my labours." 
 
 He flung himself at full length on the 
 mossy sward, and with a cigar between 
 his lips, resigned himself to the dolce far 
 nlente. 
 
 The stillness was most delightful, and 
 he lay there long after his cigar was 
 finished, until by degrees his thoughts 
 grew more and more confused, and his 
 dreams became no longer waking ones.
 
 64 Janet's choice. 
 
 The graceful birch, the bright rowan, 
 and the ugly pollard willows which threw 
 reflections as of hump-backed men into 
 the clear waters, all were strangely 
 jumbled together; the god of dreams 
 waved his enchanted wand, and Sir 
 Archibald Morton slept. His fishing 
 tackle lay idly at his side, and taking ad- 
 vantage of the silence a knowing old 
 trout, who had been watching him for 
 the last hour, as he threw his flies as 
 traps for the unwary, now emerged 
 from his hole and gave a leap of delight 
 in open stream. 
 
 The undulating meadow lands lay bask- 
 ing in a golden haze. 
 
 The bubbling plash of the waters 
 sounded like some monotonous lullaby 
 in the drowsy Summer atmosphere. 
 
 Sir Archibald slept on, unconscious of 
 everything, unconscious of fate as she
 
 Janet's choice. 65 
 
 came nearer and nearer to liim, uncon- 
 scious of the tidal wave that was comino; 
 to disturb the smooth and placid surface 
 of his life. And even as he slept, while 
 the trees cast shadows over him, and a bee 
 buzzed lazily in the depths of a fox-glove 
 at his side, his fate was coming surely 
 and unmistakably upon him. 
 
 It was coming, and the way in which 
 it came was this. 
 
 Janet Macpherson had been sent by 
 her father on a message to the smithy, 
 which stood at the other end of the vil- 
 lage from the farm. She had done her 
 business, and, tempted by the beauty of 
 the day, she had yielded to its influences 
 and allowed herself the rare pleasure of 
 a svalk by the river-side. 
 
 It was so pleasant and so cool under 
 those sheltering trees, it was so seldom 
 now that she found time to ramble along 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 GG Janet's choice. 
 
 those grass-grown pathways, amid tlie 
 confusion of traihng branches and bright 
 wild-flowers, that she enjoyed it more 
 than ever. 
 
 Enjo^^ed it fully, even though her heart 
 was very sad ; for the quiet beauty of the 
 scene seemed to chime in w^onderfully 
 with her feelings, and to suit her present 
 state of mind. She had worries enough, 
 poor girl, both in her daily life at home, 
 and in the secret recesses of her heart. 
 
 Her father had never again alluded 
 to the awful accusation he bad made 
 against David Inverarity, Donald's father ; 
 he had never again spoken of that scene, 
 and it had struck Janet more than once 
 that he was sorry that it had ever taken 
 place ; but he was not more cordial to 
 Donald, though he did not openly insult 
 him. 
 
 He would pass him on a Sunday with
 
 Janet's choice. 67 
 
 a sulky scowl, which went to Janet's 
 heart, though Donald did not seem to 
 be much moved by it, and he showed no 
 sign of recognition when he chanced to 
 fall in with him at other times. 
 
 Better the heaviest chain that evil 
 fortune can mould than that wilderness 
 of life where fear casts out love, and 
 feeds for ever on itself to its own 
 torment. Andrew's temper grew worse 
 and worse from day to day. It seemed 
 to feed on every trifle, and gained strength 
 from the nourishment thence derived. 
 
 There was no freedom except when 
 the tyrant of the house happened to be 
 away. His passions were now constantly 
 at explosion point, and with not a spark 
 of pity in the lurid fires of his rage and 
 hate. 
 
 Janet was much in the position of 
 Andromeda, bound by a chain of firmly 
 
 F 2
 
 68 Janet's choice. 
 
 riveted links to a rock, and waiting for 
 Perseus to come and set lier free. 
 
 But poor Perseus, though he had all 
 the will, had not at present the power 
 to come to her aid. 
 
 Wonderfully free, considering the weight 
 of her bondage, Janet felt that Summer's 
 day as she sauntered quietly along under 
 the trees. 
 
 She was going back in imagination to 
 the happy hours which in years gone 
 by she had passed in that wood. The 
 graceful fronds of the ferns, half uncurled 
 as they were, reminded her of the old 
 stories which Donald used to tell her, 
 of the fairy-power in fern-seed to render 
 its bearer invisible. How often she had 
 longed as a child to prove the truth of 
 the legend ! But she never even in her 
 wildest visions had longed for it so 
 ardently, as she did at that moment.
 
 Janet's cftoice. G9 
 
 when coming suddenly round a shelter- 
 ing bank of a tree, her foot caught in 
 the loose fishing-tackle which lay on 
 the grass, and, to her horror, she found 
 that in disentano^linor it she had aroused 
 the young laird from his mid-day nap. 
 
 Oh ! for the fern-seed, or the invisible 
 cap of those dear old fairy-tales ! 
 
 Janet was fairly caught now, and Sir 
 Archibald, awakened suddenly by the 
 twitching of the line which lay across his 
 hand, looked as much amazed as if he too 
 had been wishing to be in fairy-land, and 
 had had his wishes gratified. Janet was the 
 first to speak, though her voice trembled 
 and her face flushed at the suddenness of 
 the rencontre. 
 
 '' I beg your pardon. Sir, I am sure," 
 she said nervously, as she stooped to 
 get her foot clear of the cord, which had 
 twisted itself round it. *' I had no idea
 
 70 Janet's choice. 
 
 aTiyone was there when I came round 
 the bank." 
 
 Sir Archibald Morton was, in plain 
 English, completely taken aback. In 
 his semi-sleepy condition he could not 
 for a moment realize what had happened, 
 and as by degrees his consciousness re- 
 turned, he began to feel more and more 
 confused. 
 
 He had gone to sleep in a calm and 
 tranquil mood, contented with himself, 
 and with the whole world, and now he 
 awoke to find himself, for aught he 
 knew, the laughing-stock of the lovely 
 young woman who stood before him. 
 
 He sprang to his feet in an instant, 
 and was surprised to find what an increase 
 of confidence seemed to be his when 
 he stood upright. 
 
 '' So you caught me napping. Miss 
 Macpherson," he said, '' what a lazy
 
 Janet's choice. 71 
 
 fellow you must think me ; but to tell 
 you tlie truth, I had beeu fishiug for 
 a long time, and this shady bank was 
 too tempting to be resisted." 
 
 Janet smiled a little, re-assured by his 
 pleasant, frank manner, but still feel- 
 ing horribly shy and longing to be 
 off. 
 
 But the fly had now caught in her dress, 
 and in her increased nervousness her hands 
 trembled more than ever, and every mo- 
 ment the tangle became more inextricable. 
 
 " Let me help you," said Sir Archi- 
 bald. " It was really very careless of 
 me to have left my line lying there, 
 but I never thought of anyone coming 
 this way when I gave way to my 
 lounging propensities." 
 
 '' I know it is not a public pathway, 
 Sir," said Janet, blushing more than 
 ever at the thought that she was being
 
 72 Janet's choice. 
 
 accused of trespassing. "I know it 
 is not a public pathway, but my father 
 had permission to use this road as a 
 shorb cut to the village from the late 
 laird. I hope I was not intruding." 
 
 '' Not at all," said the laird, as he 
 stooped over her to help her with the 
 fish-hook. 
 
 What a troublesome hook that was ; 
 surely it was very firmly stuck in the 
 dress, to judge by the length of time 
 Sir Archibald took in extricating it ! 
 
 At last it was out, and Sir Archibald 
 looked upwards at that beautiful face 
 for a look of tbanks to reward him 
 for his labours. 
 
 It 'Was a beautiful face, as it bent 
 down in confusion at him, as he knelt 
 on the grass at her feet. 
 
 It was very embarrassing to Janet to 
 find herself in this predicament, and
 
 Janet's choice. 73 
 
 she could only feel thankful that there 
 was no one else there to see her. 
 
 '' I am afraid I have toru the dress 
 with my awkwardness," he said, '' but 
 at all events the hook is out now, and 
 I am only glad that it did not hurt you. 
 I should never have forgiven myself if 
 it had done so." 
 
 Janet was free now, the hook was 
 out of her dress and the line wound 
 up, and she felt as if she ought to go 
 home as quickly as she could. 
 
 " Thank you, Sir," she said, " I am 
 afraid it has been a troublesome business, 
 and now I must wish you good after- 
 noon, as my mother will be expecting 
 me home." 
 
 " Let me walk with you " said Sir 
 Archibald. ''I was going to take this 
 basket of fish to your mother, and you 
 must show me the shortest way to your
 
 74 Janet's choice. 
 
 house. I am sure this is a very pretty 
 walk by the river, my fishing has never 
 taken me so far up the stream before." 
 
 Janet felt uncomfortable, she hardly 
 knew why. There was no harm in Sir 
 Archibald Morton walking with her ; as he 
 wanted to be shown the way. Certainly 
 no one could blame her for allowing him 
 to accompany her; and yet somehow, in 
 her secret heart of hearts, Janet would 
 not have liked Donald to see her with 
 the laird as her companion. 
 
 I do not know if Janet had ever heard 
 of that amiable and benevolent lady who 
 exercises such influence over the world, 
 but certainly her thoughts, if she could 
 have put them into words, would have 
 been : '' What will Mrs. Grundy say ?" 
 
 Sir Archibald did not seem at all out 
 of his element as he walked by her side 
 along the river's bank. He was going to
 
 Janet's choice. 75 
 
 do a little piece of politeness to one of 
 his tenants ; what more natural than that 
 he should ask that tenant's daughter to 
 show him the way to her father's house ? 
 He did not ask himself how it would have 
 been had the tenant's daughter been an 
 uo^lv, awkward lass, instead of the vision 
 of 3'outh and grace that now moved along 
 at his side. 
 
 The earth was daintily carpeted with 
 flowers — white, yellow, and purple were 
 blended in the mosaic with the soft green 
 ground upon which they trod, and which 
 seemed to yield so softly and elastically to 
 their feet. 
 
 The cool splash of the river, and the 
 tender coo of the wood-pigeons, mingled 
 softly in low waves of sound. 
 
 No trace of man, or of every-day, hard- 
 workinsr life was to be seen. It was a 
 deep, luxurious sohtude, the very place of
 
 76 Janet's choice. 
 
 all places in the world to spend long, 
 happy hours in, while the gnarled roots 
 of the trees offered such tempting seats 
 with bright green velvet cushions of soft 
 moss. 
 
 Fain would Sir Archibald Morton have 
 lengthened the path through the woods; 
 but Janet was in no mood for idling, so 
 she kept up a brisk pace, and he had no 
 excuse ready by which he could urge her 
 to delay. 
 
 They walked on together side by side, 
 and soon relapsed into very easy conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Sir Archibald was astonished to find 
 how much Janet knew of the river and 
 its windings, where the best pools for the 
 trout were to be found, and how far it 
 was from the famous salmon-leap in the 
 valley beneath them. Janet had so often 
 wandered through those woody glades
 
 Janet's choice. 77 
 
 with Donald, that they were very famihar 
 to her, and she knew every nook and 
 corner of the wood. 
 
 Soon they emerged from beneath the 
 sheltering trees, and crossed a low meadow 
 w^hich led to the farm. 
 
 The rooks were strutting about, glossy 
 in the sunshine, while the quiet, stolid 
 sheep nibbled on stupidly at the sweet 
 grass. 
 
 Janet looked very pretty as she crossed 
 from the shade to the sunshine, and Sir 
 Archibald became more than ever at- 
 tracted by her. He noticed, as she 
 looked up fearlessly now in his face, how 
 clear her eyes were, and what a depth of 
 colour there was in them. Then her hair 
 was of exactly his favourite shade, soft 
 brown^ turning golden as it caught the 
 light. 
 
 There was a fine, sensitive intelhgence
 
 78 jaxet's choice. 
 
 in her whole expression, which disclosed 
 that there was in her a nature more than 
 usually loveable and womanly. 
 
 Across the narrow wooden bridofe and 
 up the path to the farm-house Janet led 
 the way, and Archibald followed in a sort 
 of hazy dream. 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson was standing at the 
 door, scattering golden grains of corn 
 to her poultry, which clamoured noisily 
 around her. 
 
 " Mother, here is the laird," said Janet, 
 as she opened the wicket-gate, and showed 
 Sir Archibald the short cut to where her 
 mother stood. 
 
 '*I have brought you some fish," said 
 Archie, as he took his basket from his 
 shoulder and disclosed its shiny contents. 
 
 " I am sure, Sir, it is very kind of you, 
 and my good-man will take it as a great 
 act of goodness on your part ; he is par-
 
 Janet's choice. 79 
 
 ticularly foDcl of the river trout, and we 
 get but little of it now." 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson was a shy, nervous- 
 mannered woman, and stood twisting her 
 apron round her fingers, and curtseying 
 at intervals in rather an abject manner ; 
 and the laird could not help contrasting 
 her want of ease with the elegant simpli- 
 city of her fair daughter, whose manners 
 were charming from their perfect freedom 
 from constraint, and from any attempt at 
 stylishness. 
 
 He nodded good-naturedly to the three 
 younger girls, who sat together working 
 in the porch, then with a courteous fare- 
 well to Mrs. Macpherson and Janet, he 
 took his departure and walked rapidly 
 homew^ard.
 
 80 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Why must I be acting so, 
 Beggar in this comedy ? 
 'Twill be tragedy for me, 
 Albeit for the others no." 
 
 CALDERON. 
 
 A ECHIE'S tete-a-tete walk with Janet 
 Macplierson had not been entirely 
 without notice. 
 
 When the shadows of the trees had 
 tempted him to He down and rest, the 
 beauty of the day tempted Grace Morton 
 out with her sketching materials, and she 
 soon found a cosy corner under an angle 
 of the wall of the garden, where she could 
 at the same time find an undisturbed seat
 
 Janet's choice. 81 
 
 and a view worthy of her artistic powers. 
 
 Grace was devoted to her art, and soon 
 became so absorbed in her painting that 
 she took no heed of time. 
 
 *' I want some figures to give Hfe to the 
 scene," she said to herself, as she leaned 
 back and held her drawing at a distance 
 from her, to judge the better of its effect. 
 
 She had hardly uttered these words 
 when two figures appeared on the little 
 wooden bridge which spanned the stream, 
 just at the very spot where they added 
 most to the pictorial effect. 
 
 Her clever fingers were soon at work, 
 adding them to her drawing, and she was 
 delighted with the reality they gave to her 
 half-finished picture. 
 
 " I should say that fisherman with the 
 basket on his shoulder was Archie, if I 
 could be sure of my eyesight at this dis- 
 tance, but I don't know the other figure, 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 Janet's choice. 
 
 and I think it hardly likely that Archie 
 should have picked up a stray woman to 
 walk with," said she. 
 
 She worked on at her painting, happy 
 in her own thoughts, and interested in 
 her work, and nothing came to interrupt 
 her till at length a quick step was heard, 
 and Archie bounded up the rocky plateau, 
 and flung himself laughingly at her feet. 
 
 '' Well, Brownie," he said, '' what have 
 your clever little hands been about to-day ? 
 You have chosen a charming corner, com- 
 pletely removed from the busy hum of 
 men, and only my brotherly instinct 
 could have found you out." 
 
 '' Is it not lovely?" said Grace. " I am 
 so glad you came. I felt quite selfish at 
 keeping this lovely view to myself all the 
 afternoon." 
 
 " What has become of the lady- 
 mother?" said Archie.
 
 Janet's choice. 83 
 
 " She has gone to call at the Manse, "said 
 Grace, " and Petronel said she had letters 
 to write, and that she wanted to be quiet, 
 so I left her to her own devices." 
 
 " Let me see your drawing," said 
 Archie, and as he spoke he raised himself 
 to look over her book. 
 
 " Very pretty ; I like the way you have 
 caught the light on the waters ; and how 
 capitally you have got in those two 
 figures," said he. 
 
 " Do you know, I thought at first the 
 man with the fishing-rod was you; but 
 I must have been mistaken," said Grace. 
 
 " I never looked so picturesque, 
 Brownie," said Archie, evading the 
 question. 
 
 He knew not why he did so, it was 
 quite contrary to his nature to have any 
 concealments, and there was no harm 
 in his casual meeting with Janet Mac- 
 
 G 2
 
 84 Janet's choice. 
 
 plierson ; but some how be did not care to 
 speak of it, so be let tbe subject drop. 
 
 Grace was so utterly guileless, so en- 
 tirely unsuspicious, tbat sbe never even 
 noticed his cbange of manner. Janet 
 bad sometbing about ber so refined, so 
 above tbe style of tbe ordinary young 
 women of ber class, tbat Arcbie saw in 
 a moment tbat sbe was not a person to 
 be ligbtly spoken of. He did not expect 
 to be understood, even if be expounded 
 bis views on tbis subject, tberefore be 
 very wisely and prudently beld bis tongue, 
 and let bis sister drift off into otber topics 
 of conversation. 
 
 Grace was very proud of ber band- 
 some brotber. He was always so tender 
 in bis manner to ber, so understanding, 
 and altogetber so winning and frank tbat 
 sbe could not cboose but love bim. Sbe 
 saw from ber own quiet corner, wbence
 
 Janet's choice. 85 
 
 she observed much, how popular he 
 was in society ; how the youug ladies 
 brightened perceptibly as he drew near 
 them, and the mothers contrived to show 
 him that he was ever welcome as their 
 guest. 
 
 She liked to watch him as he passed 
 unspoiled through rivers of polite speeches, 
 and to see how innocently and calmly 
 he took all this social flattery. 
 
 He was charming wherever he went, 
 but never so charming, so entirely after 
 her own heart, as he was when alone with 
 his mother and sisters. 
 
 Certainly, there is no such crucial test 
 of a young man's character, as that of a 
 quiet home-circle. 
 
 If he is good-tempered, pleasant, and 
 social at his own fire-side, you may be 
 pretty sure that his hght laughter and 
 pleasant conversation are not so much
 
 86 Janet's choice. 
 
 the uniform to be worn on parade as the 
 habitual clothing of his daily life. 
 
 Archie was fully appreciated by one 
 person at all events, and that one person 
 was a good judge of character. Grace 
 seemed somehow to' have the power of 
 reading her brother's heart with wonder- 
 ful clearness, and Archie had always 
 liked her to do so hitherto. It was a 
 new sensation for him to have anything 
 which he wished to conceal from her, and 
 yet instinct told him that on the subject 
 of Janet Macpherson and her beauty, he 
 had better be silent for the present. 
 
 ''You will give me that sketch when 
 you have finished it, won't you. Brownie?" 
 he said, presently. " I will have it 
 framed and hung up in my study at 
 Glen Auchmuty." 
 
 "You shall have it, certainly," said 
 Grace, ''but I do not really think it is
 
 Janet's choice. 87 
 
 worth framing ; and after all, I think a 
 conventional old Avoman in a red cloak 
 and with a bundle of sticks on her back 
 would look better than those two figures 
 do. Let me do you another view from 
 the same point, if you wish to have one 
 to frame." 
 
 *' By no means," said Archie, rather 
 hastily, *' I have set my affections on this 
 particular drawing and I know you will 
 give it to me." 
 
 ''You are a spoilt boy," said Grace, 
 " I suppose you must have your own way 
 as usual, though I am sure I could do 
 you a much better picture if you would 
 only let me try." 
 
 ''Let us go in now," said Archie, ''I 
 think it must be nearly dressing-time, 
 and I heard mother's voice talking to 
 Pet just now, so they will be wondering 
 what has happened to us."
 
 88 Janet's choice. 
 
 When Archie returned to the house, 
 and sat at the dinner- table a httle later 
 in the evening, he looked at his young 
 sister, and though he could not help 
 seeing how very lovely, how striking- 
 looking, and how refined she was, yet 
 he contrasted her somewhat unfavourably 
 with the beautiful girl he had seen that 
 day for the first time, and whose face 
 had made a very strong impression on 
 him. He believed that he had discovered 
 one of those brilliant gems, those lovely 
 flowers which have hitherto shone and 
 bloomed unseen. 
 
 When the next morning came, and Sir 
 Archibald suddenly discovered that he 
 had business at the farm, and that it 
 was absolutely necessary that he should 
 see Andrew Macpherson on the subject 
 of a road he wished to have widened, 
 it was rather a shock to his feelings
 
 Janet's choice. 89 
 
 to see bis wood-nympli suddenly trans- 
 formed into a working bee. Entering 
 the kitchen, he beheld, instead of a 
 poetical scene, rather an unromantic 
 reality. 
 
 Janet was standing before a deal-table 
 making pies. There she was, with her 
 pretty hands well covered with flour, 
 and her graceful figure disguised in an 
 enormous white apron, with a bib pinned 
 over the body of her dress. 
 
 Every thought in her small head was 
 apparently absorbed in the trimming and 
 crimping of paste. He expected her to 
 blush and look ashamed at being caught 
 in such a homely guise, or perhaps to 
 beat a hasty retreat ; but Janet had that 
 natural refinement strongly born in her, 
 which gave a dignity to all she did, and 
 it no more struck her that she demeaned 
 herself by working with her hands, than
 
 90 Janet's choice. 
 
 it would have struck Petronel that she 
 lowered herself by pouring out the tea. 
 She continued her pie-making very 
 serenely, while the young laird gave 
 Mrs. Macpherson messages to give to 
 her lord and master. She stood looking 
 so modest, and so utterly unconscious 
 of herself and of her attractions, that 
 Archie's respect for her rose in propor- 
 tion to his admiration of her simple 
 beauty. 
 
 " Pet would never have stood so 
 naturally to be looked at as she did, 
 by Jove !" he said to himself, as he 
 took his way again along the river's 
 bank. " What a difference there is in 
 women ! I don't call Pet vain, but one 
 can see at a glance that she knows she 
 is a beauty, whereas this girl looks as 
 if she troubled herself mighty little about 
 her appearance. She certainly does not
 
 Janet's choice. 91 
 
 seem to court admiration, and I should 
 question if she ever looked at herself 
 in the glass, if it were not that that 
 pretty wavy brown hair of hers is so 
 carefully and neatly arranged." 
 
 Oh, for the shade of Werther, and 
 of his Charlotte and her immortal bread- 
 and-butter ! 
 
 Archie went home convinced that every 
 lady ought to know how to cook, and 
 would do it too, if she only knew how 
 picturesque she might look while mould- 
 ing pie-crust. 
 
 I am afraid you will say that Archie 
 had taken the disease in a very virulent 
 form, when I tell you that the big, 
 brawny, cheery, but prosaic young laird, 
 who had always laughed to scorn the 
 tender passion, and had shown a sort 
 of sublime pity, not unmingled with con- 
 tempt, for its victims, was actually
 
 92 Janet's choice. 
 
 guilty, a week later, of attempting to 
 write an ode to the rustic beauty, who 
 had quite unconsciously entangled his 
 heart in her web of Fate ! But the 
 Nymphs of Parnassus refused to fly to 
 his aid, probably because they thought 
 it would be a waste of time, and so 
 Archie's ode, like so many other literary 
 productions, never saw the light. I 
 only mention that he attempted to soar 
 into the heights of poetry, to show what 
 a state he was in. If all lovers who 
 write odes to their ladies' eye-brows, 
 would only do as Archie did, and tear 
 the paper into a thousand atoms, I 
 am afraid the world in general would 
 say that the gain outweighed the loss !
 
 93 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Surely, thought I, 
 This is the lace of Peace's coat." 
 
 GEORGE HERBERT. 
 
 A RCHIE'S state of mind was not 
 noticed in his family at first. He 
 was out of doors a great deal, and Petronel 
 complained that he did not so often re- 
 spond to her suggestions of taking her for 
 a ride or drive as formerly; but to this 
 complaint, he had alvvays some good excuse 
 to give about the improvements on the 
 property wanting a master's hand, and she 
 was obliged to yield to reason. Lady
 
 94 Janet's choice. 
 
 Morton looked at him witli motherly 
 pride. " Dear fellow," she would say to 
 Grace, her usual confidaDte. " Is it not 
 charming to see how he adapts himself to 
 circumstances, and takes an interest in 
 everything? I had no idea he would 
 be such a good country-gentleman ! How 
 pleased your dear father would be if he 
 could see him now !" 
 
 And with a gentle sigh of mingled re- 
 signation and satisfaction. Lady Morton 
 would put her soft white knitting into her 
 basket, and move gently towards the 
 window to watch her son's active figure, 
 as he descended to the valley by the steep 
 rocky steps. 
 
 Grace loved to see her mother and 
 brother together. It was such a pretty 
 sight, she thought, to see Lady Morton's 
 trust in her son ; and hitherto he had 
 always responded to it by a frank and
 
 Janet's choice. 95 
 
 winning confidence. Was it a little mote 
 in Grace's eye that made her fancy that 
 something, almost imperceptible at pre- 
 sent, was rising up in his manner to his 
 mother, and that now and then he tried 
 to evade answering her questions ? She 
 hoped it was, and blamed herself for being 
 suspicious, yet over and over again the 
 little shadow came over her. The Httle 
 cloud, no bigger than a man's hand, 
 seemed to be about to appear on the 
 horizon. 
 
 Lady Morton saw nothing, noticed 
 nothing, and as for Petronel, that young 
 lady was too much occupied with her own 
 affairs to have time or thought of observ- 
 ing what she would have called " trifles." 
 
 But Grace was a close observer. She 
 possessed the rare gift of valuing and ar- 
 ranging trifles in their proper proportion, 
 without allowing her mind to be frittered
 
 96 Janet's choice. 
 
 away by tliera. She had a true artist's 
 appreciation of the value of accessories, 
 both in the outer world of nature, and in 
 the inner and more complex world of 
 human characters. Grace had that rare 
 combination of a high spirit and a sweet 
 temper, and these, together with her good 
 abilities and high order of intellect, made 
 her a very charming creature, indeed, to 
 those intimate enough with the family to 
 know her well. 
 
 So while Archie smiled and talked as 
 usual, and seemed the same as ever to his 
 mother and Petronel, only Grace saw that 
 something had happened, or was happen- 
 ing which had changed him. Perhaps it 
 was only an impatient glance from the 
 window, a quiver of the lip, or a quick 
 flash of the eye. Perhaps it was all or 
 none of these things, but Grace had 
 quick perceptions, and like a thorough-
 
 Janet's choice. 97 
 
 bred Arab horse, she scented danger in 
 the air. 
 
 Grace loved the quiet of her Uttle 
 boudoir, and into it she retired now 
 more than ever, as Lashiels was full of 
 guests, and voices and merry laughter 
 rang through the old house, and Petronel 
 was in her glory. 
 
 Never had she looked more lovely; 
 the excitement of entertaining company 
 brought a colour to her cheek and a light 
 to her eyes that were perfectly dazzling ; 
 and as she stood one morning at the 
 open window of the dining-room, her head 
 resting against the dark oak paneling of 
 the wall, the sunlight playing in the 
 waves of that wonderful golden hair, and 
 one beautiful hand toying with a jasmine 
 bough which peeped in at the window, 
 she made a perfect picture. 
 
 Her violet dress fitted her beautifully, 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 Janet's choice. 
 
 and showed to advantage the snowy- 
 whiteness of her throat; and Archie 
 paused in his conversation to look at her 
 and almost wonder at her lovehness. 
 
 " She is a beauty," he thought, '' but 
 what a difference in that attitude, that 
 got up pose, and the other figure I see 
 in my mind's eye, making pastry, and 
 looking very lovely without any air of 
 striving for effect ?" 
 
 Colonel and Lady Katherine Anstruther, 
 their two daughters, and Lady Violet 
 Ogilvie, the orphan niece of Lady Kath- 
 erine, were among the guests, besides 
 Mrs. Becket, Major Armstrong, the 
 Honourable John Poyns ; and three or 
 four bearded and whiskered young officers. 
 Mrs. Becket was a widow lady, mid- 
 dle-aged, lively, and with a certain 
 originality which made her always 
 good company. In fact young men
 
 Janet's choice. 99 
 
 were in the habit of saying that there, 
 was sure to be some fun when Mother 
 Becket was amongst them. 
 
 Altogether it was a well assorted com- 
 pany enough, and Petronel managed 
 to keep them all well amused. 
 
 One there was amongst the number, 
 however, who seemed sadly out of 
 place, and that was Lady Violet Ogilvie; 
 shy, timid, and almost childish as she 
 was, the conversation which she heard, 
 babbled on around her as a brook might 
 babble, while she, the httle tender 
 violet blossom, understood not its lan- 
 ofuaofe. 
 
 She was very young ; not seventeen in 
 fact, and had been at school till now 
 with a widow lady who took pupils, and 
 whose late lamented husband had been 
 college tutor to Lord Audsley, Violet's 
 father. Now, however, she was without 
 
 H 2
 
 100 Janet's choice. 
 
 a home, lier father having been killed 
 by a fall while out hunting, and, having 
 left no son, the title and estates had 
 descended to a nephew. 
 
 Violet was now domiciled with her 
 aunt. Lady Katherine Anstruther, who 
 was kind to her in a good-natured, care- 
 less manner, but of whom poor Violet 
 stood in great awe. 
 
 Her cousins, Marion and Helen Ans- 
 truther were several years older than 
 she was ; and as they had had the ex- 
 perience of several seasons in London, 
 and travels by land and by water half 
 over the world, to give them confidence, 
 they had no power of sympathy left 
 for the little shy, frightened bird who 
 had fluttered into their nest. 
 
 They did not understand her ; they did 
 not mean to be unkind, but they treated 
 her as a child, incapable of entering
 
 Janet's choice. 101 
 
 into or taking interest in their pur- 
 suits. 
 
 They prided themselves on their in- 
 dividuahty, and had each adopted a Hne 
 of her own, so that as they did not 
 clash, they remained a very fairly af- 
 fectionate pair of sisters. 
 
 Colonel Anstruther was a cultivated 
 man with refined tastes ; but he seldom 
 spoke of them in his domestic circle, for 
 he had that inherent shrinking, so well 
 known to a finely organized person, from 
 having his pet ideas trampled upon, or 
 torn to rags by beings unable to com- 
 prehend them. 
 
 He had no son, and his daughters 
 took after their mother, and rather 
 prided themselves on their bluff out- 
 spoken manners, which they called 
 sincerity. 
 
 Violet was on her way to the High-
 
 102 Janet's choice. 
 
 lands with them, and was looking forward 
 to the scenery she should see there, but 
 on this head her cousins were a little 
 contemptuous. 
 
 " Scotch hills are all very well for 
 school-girls to admire, but iue have seen 
 half the mountains in Europe, so we 
 don't care to disturb ourselves by looking 
 at the views in the Highlands." 
 
 Violet had not seen half the mountains 
 in Europe, but she had seen the 
 Cumberland hills, and they had in some 
 degree filled her heart when it was very 
 empty and cold and desolate, and she 
 was grateful to hills from that time 
 forth. 
 
 Indeed, when she had been carried 
 off from her home in the lake district 
 and placed at school in London, the poor 
 little uprooted flower pined for its native 
 soil ; and almost the happiest moment of
 
 Janet's choice. 103 
 
 her school-life was when, one day, she 
 manas^ed to hold a lono^ conversation with 
 a poor Tjrolese boy, who clung to his 
 little marmottes in memory of his moun- 
 tain home. 
 
 "Ah! Mademoiselle," he said, "the 
 air of the cities stifled me. In the 
 mountains God is near us, here He is, 
 too, without doubt, but you cannot see 
 Him ; there are too many wicked people. 
 When I think of my own mountains here 
 in this great noisy place, tears come into 
 my throat and I long to scream out loud." 
 
 Violet could fully sympathise with the 
 little exile in his " Heimweh." He had 
 expressed so exactly what she felt ! 
 
 The mountains did seem to her as to 
 him a sort of religion. Through nature 
 the purest and simplest minds can ever 
 draw nearest to the God of nature, and 
 Violet's deep dark eyes might have told a
 
 104 Janet's choice. 
 
 tale of her pure and simple faith had 
 any one cared to seek it out. 
 
 " Love out of a pure heart, and of a 
 good conscience, and of faith unfeigned," 
 was what Nature had taught her to feel 
 for Nature's God. 
 
 She was so very shy and reserved, and 
 kept herself so entirely in the background, 
 that her aunt. Lady Katherine, who had 
 at first tried good-naturedly to draw her 
 out, found so little response to her kindly 
 efibrts, that at last she came round to 
 her daughter Helen's opinion — that it was 
 much better to leave her to herself, as 
 there was evidently nothing in her, so it 
 was only a waste of energy to try and find 
 it out. 
 
 That lovely morning when Petronel's 
 somewhat studied attitude had jarred 
 against her brother's ideas of good taste, 
 the conclave at the open window were
 
 Janet's choice. 105 
 
 busy discussing a plan of proceedings for 
 the day. 
 
 "What do you say to our going en 
 masse to the grand summer fair in the 
 market- town ?" said Petronel. 
 
 '' Capital," said Major Armstrong, " let 
 us go and see the natives disporting them- 
 selves. I give you credit for having 
 started a most brilliant idea. Miss 
 Morton." 
 
 "But, my dear," said Lady Morton, 
 " the town will be full of roughs, and the 
 flaofs and bands will make the horses 
 frisky ! What do you say, Archie ?" 
 
 " Say, mother ! Why, that you should 
 do exactly what you like best. If you 
 are afraid of the noise and bustle, why 
 should not you take Colonel and Lady 
 Katherine Anstruther to call at Borthwick 
 Castle, and we will put ourselves under 
 the wing of Mrs. Becket, who, I am sure,
 
 106 Janet's choice. 
 
 will take us to the fair, if we are good 
 boys and girls," said Archie. 
 
 " To be sure I will, and give you some 
 fairings, too, if you like," said Mrs. 
 Becket, entering into the project with 
 ready alacrity. 
 
 The Anstruthers had brought their own 
 carriage, so it was soon agreed that that 
 was to be kept for the elders, and that the 
 juniors were to pack themselves as well as 
 they could into a large wagonette and 
 the mail-phaeton. 
 
 '' What time shall we start?" said 
 Petronel. 
 
 " Better wait till after luncheon," said 
 Archie. '' I promised to see about the 
 felling of some timber at the farm this 
 morning, but after lunch I shall be at 
 your disposal." 
 
 '' What an interest your son takes in 
 country pursuits !" said Lady Katherine.
 
 Janet's choice. 107 
 
 " Yes/' said Lady Morton, *' lie has 
 taken immensely to this place, and not a 
 day has passed for fche last fortnight with- 
 out his o'oino^ to the farm about some 
 road-making business ; I often think how 
 it would have gladdened the heart of his 
 dear father if he could see him so usefully 
 employed." 
 
 Lady Morton heaved a little sigh, and 
 wiped her eyes, as she always did at any 
 allusion to her departed husband. 
 
 ^^ Le Boi est mort, vive le Eoi P^ was, 
 however, rather her feeling; and Archie 
 was now the head of the house, so her love 
 for her son was mingled with respect for 
 his position. 
 
 Archie did not see Janet that morn- 
 ing. Since he had taken to visit the 
 farm so often of late, Janet began to 
 feel more and more uncomfortable. She 
 was so modest, and had such high ideas
 
 108 Janet's choice. 
 
 of conduct, that she did not like being 
 made the subject of conversation, as she 
 was sure was the case, among the farm 
 lads and lasses about the place ; indeed, 
 one evening while alone in her dairy, 
 she overheard the cow-boy say in a loud 
 voice to one of the maids. 
 
 '* What makes the laird come by so 
 often, Molly !" 
 
 " He's after the young missus, I'm 
 thinking," replied Molly, with a little 
 laugh, which rang through Janet's ears, 
 and covered her with blushes. 
 
 Tears of vexation sprang to her eyes, 
 and though she was quite alone, a feel- 
 ing of shame crept over her. 
 
 "Oh, Donald!" she said to herself, 
 ** if this horrid mystery was but cleared 
 up, and I could be yours in the full 
 light of day, no one would dare to 
 speak of me so !"
 
 Janet's choice. 109 
 
 That evening Molly got more sharp 
 words from Janet for upsetting a milk- 
 pan than she had ever before ex- 
 perienced. It was natural that Janet 
 sbould vent her wrath on her, but it 
 was hardly politic either, for it only 
 confirmed Molly in her ideas. 
 
 *' She is fairly set up with her proud 
 notions," said Molly, compassionately. 
 
 So it happened that Janet, as soon 
 as she had caught sight of Sir Archibald 
 Morton's now familiar figure, ensconced 
 herself in the dairy among her pans 
 of cream, and Archie, having no excuse 
 for following her, returned rather dis- 
 consolately to Lashiels. 
 
 Climbing up the steps which had be- 
 come his usual track now, he thought 
 he would see after his guests and get 
 some of the men to take a stroll be- 
 fore luncheon ; when suddenly his at-
 
 110 Janet's, CHOICE. 
 
 tention was arrested by a little moaning 
 sob, and looking round hastily he saw- 
 Lady Yiolet Ogilvie crouched on the 
 ground, evidently in great pain, but still 
 frightened at having attracted his at- 
 tention. 
 
 " Lady Violet !" exclaimed Archie, 
 '• what has happened ? have you hurt 
 yourself?" 
 
 "I slipped over those steps, very 
 stupidly, and I am afraid I have twisted 
 my foot; but I think I shall be able 
 to walk soon," she said, timidly. 
 
 " Can I help you ? will you take my 
 arm ?" said Archie. " Come, that is 
 bravely done !" he added, as with the 
 help of his hand, she raised herself 
 from the ground. '' We shall soon get 
 to the house now," he said, as he 
 placed her hand on his arm, " I am an 
 excellent walking-stick."
 
 Janet's. CHOICE. Ill 
 
 But the colour had quite gone from 
 her lips, and Archie saw, to his horror, 
 that she had fainted. 
 
 He was about to call for help, when 
 the remembrance of Lady Violet's shy- 
 ness stopped him. 
 
 *'Poor little girl," he said to himself, 
 *' she would be awfully distressed if any 
 fuss was made about her, so I will 
 take her to Brownie, she will know 
 best what to do with her." 
 
 He lifted the slight burden in his 
 arms, and walked towards the house. 
 
 She was tall, but very thin, and so 
 slightly built that she was extremely light, 
 and Archie, whose arms had now quite 
 recovered their strength and muscle, found 
 no difficulty in supporting her weight. 
 
 Grace's little boudoir was in a quiet 
 corner of the house, and a narrow path 
 led up to her window.
 
 112 Janet's choice. 
 
 Up this path Sir Archibald Morton 
 carried his unconscious burden, and look- 
 ing down on the pale face he noticed for 
 the first time what good features they 
 were, and admired the length of the 
 dark eye-lashes which rested on the 
 marble cheek. 
 
 " She will be pretty some day, perhaps," 
 he thought, but the ideal of beauty ever 
 present to his mind was of such a 
 different type of loveliness, that Lady 
 Violet suffered in comparison. 
 
 He heard the sounds of music from 
 the drawing-room, where Petronel and 
 the Misses Anstruther were inveigling 
 Mr. Poyns andCaptain Burns into some 
 glee-singing. 
 
 '' All right, they won't see us," he 
 said to himself, and then walked up to the 
 window of the boudoir. Grace was alone, 
 sitting on a low chair reading.
 
 Janet's choice. 113 
 
 She started up as her brother's shadow 
 fell across her page, and in an instant 
 she saw what was amiss. 
 
 She opened the French window, and 
 Archie stepped in and deposited his still 
 unconscious burthen on the couch. 
 
 " She has twisted her ancle, Grace," 
 he said, '' I found her out by her moan- 
 ing among the ferns of the dell. Poor 
 girl, I am afraid she is badly hurt ; I 
 brought her to you, as she is such a timid 
 little fawn, I thought she would be more 
 at home with you than with any one else. 
 I fear that formidable aunt and cousins 
 rather sit upon the poor child." 
 
 " Quite right, Archie," said Grace, " I 
 am glad you thought of bringing her 
 here ; and now if you will go and call 
 Nurse Thorn, I am sure she and I can 
 attend to her without interfering with any 
 one else." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 Janet's choice. 
 
 Archie did as lie was bid, and soon 
 Nurse Thorn, an old and valued servant 
 of the family came to Grace's room, and 
 between them they soon revived the 
 patient, bathing and binding up the poor 
 little foot, and tucking Violet up most 
 comfortably on the sofa. 
 
 " What a dear old woman, and how 
 kind you both are to me !" said Violet, 
 when nurse went off to get some soup 
 which she prescribed for her patient. 
 
 Grace seated herself by the couch, and 
 with her work in her hand talked so 
 pleasantly and merrily that Violet forgot 
 her shyness and became quite at her 
 ease. 
 
 Grace watched the eager face light up 
 and the dark eyes kindle as she caught a 
 new idea, and she thought to herself that 
 here was a charming piece of real un- 
 sophisticated nature, delightful to see.
 
 Janet's choice. 115 
 
 "You must call me Violet," said the 
 girl, "it is so stiff to say ' Lady Violet V 
 and I Lope you will often let me creep 
 into your room while we are here. I will 
 be very quiet and not disturb you, and 
 it is oh ! so much nicer here alone with 
 you than with all those people." 
 
 " Indeed you are quite welcome to 
 come here as often as you like," said 
 Grace. " I shall be delighted to see you 
 whenever you come ; but now I must 
 go to luncheon, I will make your excuse 
 to the rest of the party, and say you are 
 going to spend the afternoon with me 
 instead of going to the fair. I am sorry 
 you should miss the drive, though, poor 
 child!" 
 
 " Oh ! if you only knew how much 
 happier I am here !" said Violet. 
 
 " What ? sprained ankle and all ?" said 
 Grace, laughingly, as she left the room. 
 
 1 2
 
 116 Janet's choice. 
 
 Violet lay there peacefully and thouglit 
 of many things. The pain in her foot 
 was easier now, and she had not felt so 
 happy for a long time as she did now. 
 There was something in the atmosphere 
 and general appearance of Grace's room, 
 that carried Violet back to the days of 
 long ago, when she had been allowed 
 as a great treat to sit with her own dear 
 mother in her boudoir. 
 
 Alas 1 that mother was gone now, and 
 the old house, about whose stately walls 
 so many of her earliest recollections 
 clung, had passed into other hands. 
 
 But Violet hoarded up her memories as 
 her richest treasures, and thought over 
 them many and many an hour when the 
 uncompreheuding world might have 
 thought her very dull. There was a 
 yearning in her gentle, refined nature 
 for sympathy which she hardly realized
 
 Janet's choice. 117 
 
 herself, but wliicli left a very aching, 
 empty place iu her heart. 
 
 She had never had many to love her. 
 
 Colonel Anstruther was her guardian, 
 and Lady Katherine was her aunt, and 
 they were both very kind to her in a 
 sort of way, but she wanted more, and 
 what it was she craved for she hardly knew. 
 
 She had found a soft little nest now ; 
 this poor fluttering little birdie, and Grace 
 was so kind and so understanding that 
 she could not feel shy of her ; so for the 
 present she was content. Grace came 
 back to her very soon with a plaj:e of 
 fruit, and a whole history of the start of 
 the merry party, which she told with such 
 real fun and humour that Yiolet, who 
 generally took every opportunity which 
 presented itself for hiding away from a 
 number of people, almost began to wish 
 she had been of the party.
 
 118 Janet's choice. 
 
 "No, I don't though," she thought; 
 " for it is much better to lie here and be 
 amused with Grace's account of it." 
 
 Grace's room was a sort of guide-book 
 to her mind. 
 
 She had, as she explained to Violet, 
 very few of her possessions with her at 
 Lashiels, but on the table was a basket 
 filled with moss, ferns, and rosebuds, 
 while a splendid '' Gloire de Dijon " rose had 
 the honour of a glass to itself, and backed 
 by a graceful spray of maiden-hair fern, 
 formed the central ornament of a small 
 work-table, drawn cosily near enough to 
 the low chair in which Grace usually sat, 
 to give an air of private property to it. 
 
 The few pictures were good ; some were 
 photographs from the old masters, and 
 stood on little low easels on the tables ; 
 others were choice engravings hanging 
 on the walls.
 
 Janet's choice. H9 
 
 The books were well bound and care- 
 fully selected, and the very titles of them 
 gave Violet a home-like feeling, they were 
 so much after her own heart. 
 
 " Oh, Grace ! if I could always live with 
 you !" said Violet. '' It is just my idea 
 of peace and happiness," and Violet 
 nestled down among her pillows, and 
 privately hoped that the pain in her ankle 
 would last during the remainder of her 
 visit to Lashiels, that she might have an 
 excuse for enjoying the seclusion of 
 Grace's room.
 
 120 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " If maids be shy, he cures who can, 
 But if a man be shy — a man — 
 Why then the worse for him !" 
 
 J. INGELOW. 
 
 TT7HEN Petronel had so curtly refused 
 her brother's offer of a drive on 
 the occasion of her disappointment at the 
 failure of the picnic, she little knew the 
 complex web she was helping to weave 
 with the meshes of his fate. 
 
 It was not so much that she was vexed 
 at losing a piece of gaiety, for she had 
 had so much society in London, and be-
 
 Janet's choice. 121 
 
 fore that in country houses, that a picnic 
 more or less could very easily be dis- 
 pensed with. 
 
 But it had come to be a fact to which she 
 could no longer blind herself, that the 
 presence of Major Armstrong it was that 
 made the charm to her in all the gatherings 
 she went to in the character of prima donna. 
 It was not that he paid her attention ; 
 indeed, so surfeited was she with the ad- 
 miration of the crowd that she some- 
 times fancied that the reason she thought 
 about him at all was because he seemed 
 to heed her so little. 
 
 It was the spirit of contradiction, so 
 largely developed in her, which gave a 
 zest to her feeliugs. It was the agro 
 dolce sauce to her hfe. She was tired 
 of the sweet, so a httle touch of the 
 bitter gave a flavour and piquancy to the 
 dish.
 
 122 Janet's choice. 
 
 Major Armstrong had been staying 
 with his friend. Colonel Power, at the 
 time of his accident, and it was the 
 thought that she had missed seeing him 
 that had vexed her so much. She was 
 not in love with him, she told herself, 
 and, indeed, I do not think she was ; 
 but she had so long been accustomed to 
 the soft and tender rose-leaves of life's 
 pathway of prosperity, that a slight 
 prick from one of the thorns was a new 
 sensation to her. 
 
 Petronel was what may be called, a 
 very wide-awake young lady. She knew 
 her own value in tlie estimation of the 
 world. She had youth, beauty, and 
 good birth, and she determined to make 
 the best of these attributes in a fair fight 
 with the world. 
 
 Of course she should marry, and, 
 equally of course, as it seemed to her,
 
 Janet's choice. 123 
 
 slie should many for position. A title ; 
 wealth and its accompaniments, she looked 
 upon as her just rights, and of her just 
 rights she determined that she would not 
 be defrauded. She had accordingly sulked 
 during the better part of the day, which 
 had been such a marked one in Archie's 
 calendar, and had only recovered herself 
 when her brother had told her that he also 
 had sent notes by the groom that morn- 
 ing, asking Major Armstrong and Mr. 
 Poyns to come to Lashiels, instead of 
 finishing their visits to the Powers. 
 
 Mr. Poyns and Major Armstrong would 
 have done very well had they been 
 shaken up in a bag, Petronel thought. 
 For the former was heir to a title and 
 to large landed estates, while Major 
 Armstrong was heir to nothing but his 
 father's debts. 
 
 Petronel knew as well as possible that
 
 124 Janet's choice. 
 
 if Barkis (alias Poyns) could screw up 
 sufficient courage to tell Ler that he was 
 ivilUii, she might be the future Lady 
 Delabole, the mistress of a splendid house 
 and grounds in Sussex, many acres of 
 rock and moor in Cornwall, and of 
 extensive slate-quarries. But Mr. Poyns 
 was a shy man, so shy that his efforts 
 at conversation were both ludicrous and 
 painful ; and, as Petronel knew quite 
 well he was her devoted slave, she 
 was in no hurry for him to make 
 the stupendous effort of telling her 
 so. 
 
 The Honourable John Poyns was young 
 and tolerably good-looking. He had had 
 advantages, like other young men of his 
 station ; he had been sent to Eton first, 
 and then to Oxford, had travelled on 
 the continent; he had been dragged re- 
 luctantly and sorely against his will
 
 Janet's choice. 125 
 
 tlirou2:li a reofalar tread-mill of London 
 engagements, but it was all of no 
 avail. 
 
 The veriest chit of a school-boy had 
 more aplomb than he had, and less diffi- 
 culty in conversing with strangers. 
 
 Ever since he first cast his eyes on 
 Petronel's beautiful face, her image had 
 filled his heart. Archie had said to her 
 at the time, 
 
 " Why, Pet ! that poor fellow was 
 struck dumb at the sight of you." 
 
 To which Petronel had replied, 
 
 '' I am very sorry, Archie, but that 
 was really not my doing, it was a freak 
 of nature's." 
 
 He stayed in different country-houses, 
 because he was too shy to say no when 
 his friends asked him ; but the agonies 
 he underwent, whenever he was called 
 upon to face a fresh set of strangers.
 
 126 Janet's ohotce. 
 
 would have been eiiouQ;li to have iinmor- 
 talized liim as a martyr, had they been 
 endured in a worthier cause. So he 
 stayed at Lashiels, and looked literally 
 unutterable things at Petronel, and 
 Petronel thought of herself sometimes 
 as the future Lady Delabole with some 
 degree of complacency. 
 
 " At least," she said, to herself, '* I 
 may feel very safe that, if I do marry 
 him, my husband will never flirt with 
 anyone else; he could not do it, you 
 know, if he tried, and he is not likely 
 to make the attempt." 
 
 Captain Burns and the other " fellows 
 from Carlisle," as Archie called the two 
 inoffensive-looking young men, whose 
 moustaches and opinions were in an 
 equally budding condition, were each 
 and all distinctly in love with Petronel ; 
 but she cared not for that, she w^as so
 
 Janet's choice. 127 
 
 accustomed to wholesale flattery that 
 she only accepted it as her due. 
 
 What did fret, and, because it fretted, 
 interested her, was Major Armstrong's 
 scrupulous politeness but utter lack of 
 homage in his manner to her ! If he 
 happened to be standing near the piano 
 when she moved towards it, he could 
 not avoid opening the instrument, light- 
 ing the candles, &c. He did it all 
 with the polished grace of a man of the 
 world, but Petronel could see it was 
 only common politeness, and nothing 
 more, and the knowledge that it was 
 so was very galling to her. 
 
 Mr. Poyns was always hovering near 
 her, inwardly raging at the coolness 
 with which Major Armstrong arranged her 
 music stand, and then would lounge off 
 to a sofa where sat Mrs. Becket. Mr. 
 Poyns was longing, I say, to be of
 
 128 Janet's choice. 
 
 use, but he was too shy. Some hidden 
 force held him back and rooted him to 
 the spot where he stood, even when a 
 loose sheet of the song which Petronel 
 was about to sing escaped from the 
 desk and fluttered to his feet. Captain 
 Burns had picked it up, restored it to 
 its place, and stood ready to turn over 
 at the right moment, before honest 
 John Poyns had had the hardihood of 
 even making an effort in that direc- 
 tion. 
 
 Once he got so far as to try to 
 open the door for his divinity, as she 
 was about to leave the room, but his 
 feet became hopelessly entangled in the 
 skirts of Mrs. Becket's elaborate dress, 
 and after a frightful crack in what is 
 technically called the ' gathers ' of that 
 garment, resounding through the room, 
 Mr. Poyns could do nothing but retire,
 
 Janet's choice. 129 
 
 crimson and confused beliind an ottoman, 
 while Petronel tripped merrily away, 
 castino^ a brio^lit comical look over lier 
 shoulder at the rest of the party. 
 
 '' Bless the man what a Goth he is ! 
 and his father, old Lord Delabole, such 
 a courteous old beau!" said Mrs. Becket 
 in a loud aside to Helen Anstruther. 
 
 Happily the blood was surging and 
 boiling at such a rate in the victim's 
 ears, as to render him absolutely deaf; 
 for Mrs. Becket's asides were rather 
 audible ones. Marion Anstruther, who 
 set up for a blue-stocking, was pouring 
 into the ears of an unfortunate young 
 man a great deal about the science of 
 Metaphysics. 
 
 '' You know," she was saying, '' you 
 know of course, Mr. Green, that Abelard 
 held doubt to be the condition of mind 
 most becoming a philosopher, while his 
 
 VOL. I. js:
 
 130 jaket's choice. 
 
 great opponent Bernard, replied to him 
 by insisting on the limits of the human 
 understanding and contending for helief 
 as an essential." 
 
 '' No ! 'pon my word, did he though ?" 
 said Mr. Green abjectly, as he stood 
 first on one leg and then on the 
 other, looking vainly for a chance of 
 escape. 
 
 " I entirely agree with Bernard, Miss 
 Anstruther," said Major Armstrong, 
 " and I think his case may be said to 
 be proved in this instance most satis- 
 factorily !" 
 
 Marion Anstruther stared ; slie was 
 like many vain people, extremely super- 
 ficial in her knowledge, and though she 
 liked to air long sentences and deep 
 theories, at which she had caught in 
 a smattering, slip-shod way, to sound 
 imposing to the uninitiated, she was
 
 Janet's choice. 131 
 
 not prepared to argue with a really 
 clever man as she knew Major Arm- 
 strong to be. She did not know that 
 he was so near her, or she would 
 never have ventured upon such an 
 harangue. 
 
 She did not see the point of his speech, 
 but only gave him a blank, displeased 
 stare. 
 
 It was so evident that there was a limit 
 to her understanding, as well as to that 
 of the unfortunate Mr. Green, that Major 
 Armstrong was immensely diverted, and, 
 in his quiet way, greatly enjoyed the joke. 
 
 Looking up to see if anyone else had 
 noticed it, he caught sight of a pair of 
 dark eyes, with an unusual sparkle in 
 them, and he saw that the little, demure 
 Lady Violet Ogilvie was the only one who 
 had been quick enough to catch the point 
 of the joke. 
 
 K 2 .
 
 132 Janet's choice. 
 
 For a moment a quick glance of intelli- 
 gence and a sparkle of real fun lighted 
 up her face ; but when Major Armstrong 
 moved towards her to try and get her to 
 talk, she was once more the frightened 
 little nun with downcast eyes fixed 
 demurely on the ground. 
 
 "We certainly have two instances of 
 great shyness amongst us/' thought he, 
 '^ but I question if either Poyns or Lady 
 Yiolet would show the limit of their 
 understanding so quickly, as that awful 
 woman who spouts long words without 
 understanding them." 
 
 " Are you a blue - stocking. Lady 
 Yiolet ?" he asked, sinking quietly into 
 a seat by her. 
 
 '' Oh, no ! indeed ! Why do you ask ?" 
 she replied. 
 
 " Thank heaven !" he rejoined. '' I 
 should not like you at all if you were !"
 
 Janet's choice. 133 
 
 '' Oil ! wouldn't you ?" said Violet. '' I 
 thought it was nice to be clever !" 
 
 '' Clever ! yes," said Major Armstrong, 
 '' really clever is what all may wish to be ; 
 but there is immense diflference between 
 a clever woman and a blue, and there are 
 shades even of the blue, too. I question 
 whether some ladies who ape the reputa- 
 tion would find that the garments they 
 delight in donning are of a very durable 
 dye." 
 
 " You mean that for my cousin 
 Marion ?" said Violet, quickly. 
 
 Major Armstrong bit his lip, he had 
 quite forgotten the relationship between 
 the two ladies. He was re-assured, how- 
 ever, by Violet, who was becoming far 
 less shy than usual, under the influence of 
 the quiet corner where they sat undis- 
 turbed. 
 
 " I am sure you mean that my cousin
 
 134 Janet's choice. 
 
 Marion is not really clever, but tliat she 
 only likes to be thought blue/' she con- 
 tinued. 
 
 '^ Far be it from me to insinuate any- 
 thing of the kind, Lady Violet," he said ; 
 *' if it had not been for your quickness 
 and penetration, I should never have been 
 discovered in my wicked laugh at the 
 ' limited understanding company,' so I 
 must throw myself on your mercy, and 
 beg you not to betray me." 
 
 Violet looked amazed. 
 
 " I betray you. Major Armstrong ?" 
 she said. " Of course I would not do any- 
 thing so dishonourable !" 
 
 He was pleased and amused at her 
 earnestness, and determined to take ad- 
 vantage of her being in a communicative 
 humour, to draw her out. 
 
 '' Lady Violet," he said, " do you like 
 blue stockings ?"
 
 Janet's choice. 1o5 
 
 Violet made a fuDny little face, and 
 shook her Lead, then, fearing she had 
 done wrong, she corrected herself and 
 added, 
 
 "Not when the dye comes off at the 
 first rub ; but I suppose when there is 
 real talent that is not the case ?" 
 
 '' So you like a little shade of blue in 
 the hose, only you like the dress worn 
 lono^ enoudi to hide it?" lie added. 
 
 '' Ah ! it is the display I dislike so very 
 much," she replied. '' I should like to be 
 like Grace, she is perfection." 
 
 " Grace ?" said Major Armstrong, in- 
 quiringly, '' who is she ?" 
 
 " Miss Morton, I mean," said Violet ; 
 *' she has been so kind to me : when my 
 foot was hurt, she let me come to her 
 room and lie on her couch, and I assure 
 you I have not been so happy since I was 
 quite a little girl as I have been during
 
 136 Janet's choice. 
 
 these four quiet days. I do believe slie 
 knows everything, but she is so modest, 
 and never talks about it as some people 
 do." 
 
 "Major Armstrong, do come and look 
 at these photographs of my pet dogs," 
 said Petronel, coming np to them at that 
 moment, and Major Armstrong could not 
 choose but obey; but he left his little 
 quiet nook rather unwillingly, and with a 
 decided impression in his mind that Violet 
 and her ideal of perfection, Grace, were 
 the two people best worth cultivation in 
 the house.
 
 ]3; 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Will you walk into my parlour, 
 Said the spider to the fly." 
 
 ri1HE injury to Yiolet's ankle had not 
 been a very severe one after all. 
 It soon yielded to the kind and skilful 
 treatment of Nurse Thorn, and Yiolet 
 was almost sorry when it became obvious 
 that she need no longer excuse herself, 
 on account of her lameness, from joining 
 in the excursions of the others. 
 
 The party was soon to break up. 
 
 The Anstruthers were to carry Yiolet
 
 138 Janet's choice. 
 
 off to tlieir Highland fastness, and the 
 Mortons were to start for Glen-Auch- 
 muty, in preparation for the 12th of 
 August and St. Grouse. Marion Ans- 
 truther inflicted no more metaphysics 
 on unfortunate Mr. Green; indeed as 
 Major Armstrong remarked to Yiolet, 
 the " limited understanding company " 
 appeared to have dissolved partner- 
 ship, and it was hard to say which 
 of the two shunned the other the 
 most. 
 
 Marion boasted that she had no soul 
 for art ; so with the convenient non- 
 clashing arrangement which existed be- 
 tween the sisters, Helen took it up, 
 and talked so magnificently about sun- 
 set effects and " chiaroscuro," that 
 Major Armstrong could not resist a 
 mischievous inclination to draw her 
 out and make fun of her.
 
 Janet's choice. 139 
 
 Helen was obtuser than her sister 
 Marion, and never discovered the drift of 
 his remarks ; but began to flatter herself 
 that she had made a very agreeable im- 
 pression on Major Armstrong, and 
 plumed herself not a little on his polite 
 attentions. 
 
 Meanwhile Archie became more and 
 more silent and distraught. He hardly 
 listened to Lady Katherine, as she sat 
 next him at table, and he quite failed 
 to see the point of Mrs. Becket's best 
 stories ; indeed, as that lady astutely 
 remarked to Captain Burns, whom she had 
 taken particularly under her protection, 
 there would soon be not a pin to 
 choose between him and Poyns for 
 stupidity." 
 
 It was Mrs. Becket's habit to take 
 entire possession of one young man, 
 and confide to him all her ideas on the
 
 140 Janet's choice. 
 
 rest of the company. It was also her habit 
 to omit their titles when speaking of 
 men, and to treat them as if they were 
 a parcel of school-boys. 
 
 " It's a good thing Poyns will come 
 in for those slate-quarries some day." 
 she whispered behind her fan, " I am 
 sure there is one loose on his noddle ; 
 and as for Archie, I am convinced he 
 is in love, only for the life of me I 
 can't tell with whom. It can't be with 
 either of those charming creatures whom 
 I call Science and Art, and he never 
 speaks to that shy mouse, Violet Ogilvie. 
 It can't be with anyone here, that's very 
 certain." 
 
 Meanwhile Archie had advanced con- 
 siderably in his intimacy with the Mac- 
 pherson family ; Andrew was civil enough 
 to him ; indeed he would have been fawning 
 and cringing, if he had not seen that that
 
 Janet's choice. 141 
 
 sort of thing would not go down witli 
 the laird. 
 
 Andrew had his own private reasons 
 for keeping on good terms with his 
 landlord, for he very well knew that he 
 was behind-hand with his rent, and that 
 he had not kept his land in as good 
 order as he ought to have done. 
 
 He had had money losses, which told 
 upon his health and temper, and from 
 which his family at home suffered, though 
 he did not confide to them the cause 
 of his irritability. 
 
 Then his favourite colt got loose from 
 the boy who was leading it by a halter, 
 and injured itself so severely that it had 
 to be shot. His cows caught the rinder- 
 pest, and many of them died of this 
 terrible disease. 
 
 It seemed as if a blight had fallen upon 
 him, for from every quarter fresh mis-
 
 142 Janet's choice. 
 
 fortunes came upon him. The villagers 
 whispered and laid their heads together, 
 while they agreed that it was evident 
 Macpherson had an enemy who had 
 evil-wished him, but no one dared to 
 make any comments on the subject to 
 him himself, as his temper was too well 
 known for anyone lightly to run the risk 
 of raising it. 
 
 Andrew was a shrewd man, and he 
 soon saw, plainly enough, in what direc- 
 tion it was that the laird's eyes so often 
 strayed. 
 
 '' Eh ! but his father would have been 
 just mad, if he saw the fancy his son has 
 taken up ; but it is not for me to interfere, 
 it would be another business altogether 
 if it was any other body's daughter that 
 he was favouring." 
 
 At first, Archie had been frightened by 
 his own feeling for Janet. It was so
 
 Janet's choice. 143 
 
 impossible, he thought, for him to marry 
 beneath him, and so bring disgrace and 
 unhappiness into his home. It would 
 break his mother's heart ; it was not to 
 be thought of. Nevertheless, he did think 
 of it all the more, because he told him- 
 self that such an idea was impossible. 
 
 It would alienate him from his family, 
 it would estrange him from his friends, it 
 would ostracise him from society — he must 
 give up all thought of it. 
 
 A marriage between the laird of 
 Lashiels and Glen-Auchmuty and the 
 dauo'hter of a tenant ! Between Sir Archi- 
 
 o 
 
 bald Morton, baronet of ancient descent 
 and pure blue blood, and the child of 
 a small farmer ! The thing was absurd, 
 he told himself over and over again, as 
 he lay tossing restlessly on his bed at 
 night, unable to sleep, and unable to 
 calm his nerves from their unnatural fever
 
 144 Janet's choice. 
 
 of excitement. And yet, whenever he 
 closed his eyes, the vision of that beauti- 
 ful face haunted him ; and, with a groan, 
 he would begin again the series of objec- 
 tions to the marriage, and ever as he went 
 over them he would strike off mentally 
 one after another, till it seemed feasible 
 after all. 
 
 Why should he not marry whom he' 
 pleased ? His wife would take her rank 
 from him, and no one should dare to look 
 down upon her in his presence ! 
 
 Besides was not Janet lady enough 
 to grace any rank ? Was she not fit to 
 be a duchess ! a queen indeed ? 
 
 Then he would ramble off to himself 
 again a little incoherently about natural 
 grace, inherent refinement, inborn gen- 
 tility, and a whole list of set phrases, 
 till at last he fell asleep to dream 
 of a sweet face shrouded in a bridal veil
 
 Janet's choice. 145 
 
 and a small hand in a wliite glove clasp- 
 ing his arm. Then would come the 
 waking in the morning, the breakfast 
 table surrounded with cheery faces, and 
 his mother's tender smile as she gazed on 
 her darling boy, her ill-concealed anxiety 
 at his loss of appetite. 
 
 All this would unsettle him again. He 
 would just go down to the farm and have 
 another look at Janet, and then he would 
 try to make up his mind to go off to 
 Glen Auchmuty and forget her ! 
 
 But the going to the farm for another 
 look always ended in the same way, and 
 Archie would come back more madly in 
 love with Janet than ever. 
 
 Many times he resolved to talk to Grace 
 on the subject, and get her advice and 
 sympathy, but the knowledge that Violet 
 was so often in her boudoir stopped 
 him. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 Janet's choice. 
 
 " You see, Sir Arcliibald," Andrew 
 would say, when the laird expressed his 
 sympathy with his misfortunes, " it is 
 not for me or for my poor wife 
 that I mind so much, though I'll not 
 deny our losses are heavy on us all ; 
 but I do feel it for my girls ! It cuts 
 me to the heart to think that they 
 must suffer; and though you may smile 
 and think me foolish, Sir, being an old 
 man, and naturally partial to my own 
 flesh and blood, as you may say, I'll not 
 deny that I am proud of my girls, and 
 should like to see them respectably and 
 happily married before I die." 
 
 And the cunning old fellow wiped his 
 eyes with his coat-sleeve, apparently much 
 overcome by family affection and his own 
 pathos. While at the same time his restless 
 grey eyes gleamed mischievously beneath 
 his shaggy eye-brows and he was watching
 
 janet'kS choice. 147 
 
 Sir Archibald's countenance with the 
 greatest interest. 
 
 " Of course, of course !" said Archie. 
 ''It is only natural that you should be 
 anxious for the welfare of your family, 
 and as to being proud of your daughters, 
 why, there is nothing to be ashamed of 
 in that ! Any man might be proud to 
 call such a girl as Miss Macpherson, his 
 daughter, and still prouder to call her 
 his wife, she would well adorn any station 
 in life ;" and Archie, at that moment, 
 catching sight of Janet, as she nailed 
 up her roses in the garden, ran off to 
 her assistance, leaving Andrew Macpher- 
 son with an evil light in his wicked grey 
 eyes and a sneering smile on his lips. 
 
 '* Ay ! ay ! they are all alike, this 
 laddie is just as daft as the rest, and 
 all for a bit of womankind ; but I have 
 got him on the hip now. I must go and 
 
 L 2
 
 148 Janet's choice. 
 
 show him that I don't mean him to slip 
 out of the noose he has put round his 
 neck, in a hurry." 
 
 So sa^dng, he walked towards the 
 corner where Janet, blushing, and look- 
 ing very much vexed and annoyed, stood 
 talking to Sir Archibald. 
 
 " Janet, lass," he said, in his most 
 offensively mild voice, '' you must pick 
 a posy for the laird ; he has just been 
 so condescending as to say he wishes 
 to have a rose from our poor garden. It 
 is very kind of him to care for anything 
 belonging to us, when he has such 
 beautiful flowers at his command else- 
 where. So mind, lassie, give him the 
 best you can find." 
 
 With a meaning glance, first at one 
 and then at the other, the wily old spider 
 left them and returned to the house. 
 
 Archie stood for a moment speechless,
 
 Janet's choice. 149 
 
 what had he done ? He had not meant 
 his words to be taken in that sense, he 
 had a confused memory of having said 
 that Janet was fit for any rank of Ufe, 
 and that any man might be proud to 
 call her his wife; but he had not in- 
 tended Andrew to take it as a hint for 
 permission to address his daughter, 
 though it was evident to him that Andrew 
 had taken it as such. 
 
 However, it decided him, and he did 
 not require much persuasion to make 
 him almost glad that he was so far com- 
 mitted, that as a man of honour he could 
 not now draw back. 
 
 " If the father takes it in that hght, 
 and leaves me purposely alone with his 
 daughter, what can he mean, but that 
 he is willing to permit my addresses ?" 
 was his reflection. No thoughts of the 
 honour he was about to do Janet was
 
 150 Janet's choice. 
 
 in liis heart. She was so beautiful, so 
 good, so far above him in every respect 
 except one, that he never dreamt that 
 it was a condescension on his part to 
 ask her to be his wife. All his argu- 
 ments for and against such an alliance, 
 which he had gone through so often, were 
 scattered to the winds. 
 
 At one glance at the graceful figure 
 before him, the demon Prudence vanished, 
 and the angel Love remained in entire 
 possession of the field. 
 
 '' Miss Macpherson," he said, and he 
 addressed her as courteously as if she 
 had been the greatest lady in his ac- 
 quaintance. " Miss Macpherson, your 
 father has hinted to you what I have 
 come here to-day to ask for." 
 
 It was an entire delusion that he had 
 come to ask for anything, but Archie 
 believed that he spoke the truth, and
 
 Janet's choice. 151 
 
 lovers' delusions are often very swift and 
 sudden. 
 
 Janet was dreadfully frightened; she 
 stood with her eyes east down, her 
 small hands trembling so violently that 
 the dead leaves she had been cutting 
 from her rose-bushes were shaken out 
 of the basket she held, and fell in a 
 shower of crimson and brown at her feet. 
 There was an old wall behind her and 
 an angle of the house in front, so they 
 were quite alone and unseen. A lark 
 sang high in the great blue vault over- 
 head, and one of Janet's pet doves uttered 
 a low cooing sound almost incessantly. 
 
 A distracting sound is a dove's coo, 
 and Archie felt as if he could have 
 wrung the bird's neck with pleasure, for 
 interrupting with its aggravating and 
 monotonous voice the peaceful stillness 
 of this interview.
 
 152 Janet's choice. 
 
 " Janet," lie said, '' your father has 
 told you what I want, I want the fairest 
 rose in all your garden, will you give 
 it to me ?" 
 
 There was no answer — Janet remained 
 silent ; but a nervous twitching of her 
 mouth convinced Sir Archibald that she 
 understood him, though she made no 
 response. 
 
 " Oh, Janet ! you do not know how I 
 should value it. I would wear it near my 
 heart for ever ! " 
 
 He was going on to say more, but he saw 
 that Janet had raised her eyes and was 
 looking at him, as if she was trying to 
 speak. 
 
 " Sir Archibald," she said, her voice 
 trembling with agitation, " I will not be 
 so silly as to pretend not to know what 
 you mean, but I must tell you once for 
 all that you must never speak to me again
 
 Janet's choice. 153 
 
 in tliis manner; think of your lady 
 mother, think of your sisters, think of 
 all the friends of your own rank of life. 
 What would they say ? What would they 
 think?" 
 
 " I do not care what anyone says or 
 thinks, but you, Janet," added Archie 
 impetuously. '' Janet, you know I care 
 for no one as I do for you ? You must 
 know it; and I shall die if you do not 
 promise to be my wife." 
 
 He had caught her hand between his 
 own. " You must, Janet, you must !" 
 he cried. '' I cannot live without you 1" 
 
 But Janet drew herself up, and with a 
 queenly dignity that commanded his re- 
 spect, as much as it increased his 
 admiration, said — 
 
 *' Sir Archibald Morton, I suppose I 
 ought to thank you. Sir, for your con- 
 descension, and for the honour you have
 
 154 Janet's choice. 
 
 done me ; but you must understand, once 
 for all, this must not go on. I know 
 I am but a farmer's daughter, and you a 
 rich gentleman ; but I have my feel- 
 ings as much as if I was a lady, and I 
 know what the love ought to be that 
 binds two people together for life, and I 
 have not that love to give." 
 
 " But, Janet dearest, it will come," he 
 said; " only say that you will let me love 
 you, and I have no fear but that in 
 time the feeling will come to you too !" 
 
 ** No, Sir, it cannot be ; we can never 
 be equals ; and even if there was no 
 other reason, I would not help to bring 
 you into misery," she answered. 
 
 Archie was in despair ; he loved her so 
 very deeply, he could not bear to give 
 her up. Now he had overcome his 
 scruples and made her an offer, he felt 
 as if he should never recover his peace
 
 Janet's choice. 155 
 
 of mind if she persisted in refusing him. 
 But she was firm ; if for a moment the 
 dazzle of riches and splendour which 
 might be hers glittered temptingly before 
 her eyes, it had not time to evolve itself 
 distinctly ; for in her heart was the true 
 loyal love she had cherished for Donald 
 through long, long years, and whose 
 beginning was so remote that she could 
 never trace it. 
 
 " Janet," said the laird imploringly, 
 " you know I had your father's permission 
 to speak to you." 
 
 Janet shivered; how well she had 
 learned to read the expression of her 
 father's face. She had known quite well 
 when he told her to give the laird the 
 best rose in the garden, that though 
 he spoke quietly, he meant her to obey 
 him. 
 
 What would happen now ? How could
 
 156 Janet's choice. 
 
 she face his wrath when he knew what 
 she had done ? 
 
 Then came the bitter and shameful idea 
 that she was to be treated as a bit of 
 merchandise ; that her father was wilhng 
 to sell her to the highest bidder. 
 
 She knew that he had money-troubles, 
 though to what extent she was unaware. 
 If she married the laird, her father would 
 make him pay his debts, or at all events 
 excuse him the rent of his farm. 
 
 It was horrible ! it was humiliating, 
 past bearing, to think of being bartered 
 away for gold by her own father. And 
 Janet, now fairly overcome, covered her 
 face with her hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 Archie never could see a woman cry 
 without being moved, and when the 
 tears fell from Janet's eyes in consequence 
 of words that he had spoken, his penitence 
 and agony knew no bounds.
 
 ja^net's choice. 157 
 
 " Janet, please forgive me for having 
 pained you. I would shed ray last drop 
 of blood willingly for you, but I cannot 
 bear to see you cry. What can I say or 
 do to comfort you ?" 
 
 She still sobbed violently, and still the 
 tiresome dove went on with its coo, and 
 the lark sang more merrily than ever over 
 their heads, as if the whole performance 
 was got up expressly for its benefit, and 
 it was bound to give its applause. 
 
 " What shall I do for you?" repeated 
 the laird. 
 
 " Do !" said Janet wearily, " please 
 leave me, and never come here again." 
 
 And Archie was fain to leave her, and 
 sad at heart and very desolate she went 
 quietly to her old room in the roof of the 
 farm-house, and kneeling by the side of 
 her little bed, sighed out the great burden 
 of her heart. '' Oh ! Donald ! Donald ! to
 
 158 Janet's choice. 
 
 think that tliey wish me to marry the 
 laird ! No, though my father orders me 
 to do so, I never, never will break my 
 promise to you."
 
 159 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Where day is day, and night is night, 
 Where frocks — and morals — both are white ; 
 Blue eyes below, blue skies above — 
 These are the homes, the hearts for love." 
 
 PRAED. 
 
 T7"ERY sadly Arcliio turned away 
 from that spot of ground hal- 
 lowed to his memory for Janet's sake. 
 " If she had only been shy and 
 doubtful," he said to himself, ''but 
 there was a decision in her manner, 
 that, I am afraid, leaves me very little 
 feeling that she will ever change her 
 mind."
 
 160 Janet's choice. 
 
 He plunged into the wood, and sat 
 down on one of the moss-grown trunks 
 at the river's brink, very near to where 
 he had been awakened from his slumbers 
 by Janet, when he had come face to 
 face with her for the first time. 
 
 The foliage was getting now, what 
 Grace called ' middle-aged ' on the trees, 
 the tender Spring greens had developed 
 into a more uniform tint since that memor- 
 able day, and Archie's love, which had 
 begun to bud and blossom, had now 
 grown and strengthened in like manner, 
 till it was no longer a new sensation, 
 but a strong part of himself. 
 
 All else was unchanged, and Archie 
 thought despondently that Nature her- 
 self was mocking him ! The same tune 
 was being played by the wind among 
 the boughs of the trees, the same 
 song was being sung by the river, that
 
 Janet's choice. 161 
 
 had charmed him so much then, but 
 to his ears they were changed; then 
 all was harmony, now discord reigned 
 triumphantly in Archie's senses. It 
 could not but be a shock to a man so 
 courted and admired as Archie had 
 always been, to find himself rejected by 
 a farmer's daughter ; but I must do 
 Archie the justice to say that anger 
 against Janet formed no part of his 
 feelings now. 
 
 She had been so much distressed, 
 was so evidently grieved by what had 
 passed, that he could not find it in 
 his heart to blame her ; what was there 
 in his address that had frightened her 
 so? Could it be that the father was 
 a tyrant ? Archie had heard rumours 
 of his being a hard man with his work- 
 people, but then he had certainly spoken 
 affectionately enough of his daughters, 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 Janet's choice. 
 
 and had seemed proud of Janet's beauty ! 
 '' I hope he won't be hard upon the 
 dear girl," he said to himself; " I am 
 sure she had some good reason for re- 
 fusing me, perhaps I was too hasty, or 
 perhaps — I never thought of that be- 
 fore — yes — it must be that — she must 
 be in love already with some other 
 fellow !" 
 
 Strange to say, in all his meditations 
 and musings upon this subject in all 
 its bearings, this solution of the mystery 
 had never struck Archie before. 
 
 It was a horrid thought, for it made 
 him feel more hopeless and forlorn than 
 ever ! 
 
 Poor Archie ! he was certainly very 
 hard hit ! 
 
 It was perhaps better for him — better 
 for her — better for all parties — that his 
 romance should be nipped thus early
 
 Janet's choice. 163 
 
 in the bud, but it was a painful pro- 
 cess notwithstanding. How foolish the 
 world would think him for grieving 
 thus, and yet it was a very real trouble 
 to him. How foolish one is about these 
 matters ! what vain fancies whirl and 
 eddy through one's brain ! 
 
 Archie had lived for the last three 
 weefks like Mahomet's coffin, hanging 
 between earth and heaven. He had 
 hoped that the cords were gradually 
 drawing him upwards, but he had now 
 been awakened with a start to find 
 that they had snapped suddenly, and 
 he had had a sharp and disagreeable 
 fall to earth. 
 
 He sat for some time in the deep 
 green solitude of the wood, when at 
 last he was disturbed by hearing foot- 
 steps coming along the path. 
 
 He jumped up, and putting on an air 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Janet's choice. 
 
 of indifFerence which he was far from 
 feeling, advanced to meet the comers. 
 
 Two men in animated conversation 
 came round the corner close to him, 
 and he instantly recognised one of them 
 as Major Armstrong, and the other as 
 Donald Inverarity, the under-keeper. 
 
 " I have found an old friend and 
 servant here ; I had no idea that 
 Donald was anywhere hereabouts. He 
 was in my troop in the Crimea, and 
 after that we travelled half over Europe 
 together." 
 
 Archie tried politely to look interested 
 as Major Armstrong seemed to expect 
 him to do so, but the identity between 
 his friend's quondam soldier- servant 
 and his own present under-keeper was 
 nothing to him at that moment. 
 
 Had he known who Donald was, or 
 what share he had in that black veil
 
 Janet's choice. ' 1G5 
 
 of destiny which had just fallen over 
 him, he would surely have been amazed ; 
 and perhaps the kindly little nod with 
 which he favoured him might have 
 been exchanged for a scowl of jealous 
 hate ! 
 
 The fine-looking young man might have 
 been a machine for aught Archie knew or 
 cared at that moment. He was so occu- 
 pied in wondering in his own mind who 
 his rival could possibly be, that when that 
 rival stood before him he took not the 
 smallest notice of him, beyond the con- 
 ventional nod with which he was in the 
 habit of greeting his servants. 
 
 " We were talking of our expedition in 
 Wallachia, and of our rides with the 
 Croats, when you came up," said Major 
 Armstrong. 
 
 " Indeed," said Archie, very absently. 
 
 Major Armstrong saw in a moment that
 
 166 Janet's choice. 
 
 sometliing had gone wrong with his host. 
 He had known very little of Archie before 
 this year, but he had taken very kindly 
 to him ; and he thought he saw, beneath 
 his absent and distrait manner, germs of 
 a noble nature. 
 
 He was several years older than Archie 
 in mere age, but he was still older in 
 mind ; for he had passed through burning 
 fiery trials which had left their marks so 
 deeply branded, that they never could be 
 forgotten. Major Armstrong was a very 
 self-contained man. 
 
 Many people flattered themselves that 
 they knew him well, and classed them- 
 selves amongst his most intimate friends ; 
 but there was one page in the story of 
 his life which he kept carefully closed 
 within his heart, and none but himself 
 knew the bitterness of the story it con- 
 tained.
 
 Janet's choice. 167 
 
 I think I liear my readers ask me, 
 " Who was she V They are quite right ; 
 the story was one of true love repaid b}^ 
 falsehood; of the best gift a man can 
 bestow, trampled under foot by a heartless 
 flirt, of laughter turned into weeping, and 
 joy into sorrow. 
 
 It was a common-place story enough, 
 but it had tainted Major Armstrong's 
 whole life. 
 
 He never could be the same man again, 
 as he had been before he knew that the 
 woman whom he had loved so tenderly 
 had deceived him. 
 
 So he went through life with an aching, 
 gnawing pain at his heart, though, like 
 the Spartan boy of old, he hid the fact so 
 bravely that no one suspected it. 
 
 Those heartless flirts, both male and 
 female, who think of love and hearts as 
 toys to be played with and then broken,
 
 168 Janet's choice. 
 
 as children break their playthings to see 
 what they are made of, and then throw 
 them aside; those heartless flirts, I say, 
 little know the hours of agony, the life- 
 time of sorrow, which their conduct in- 
 flicts ! 
 
 Major Armstrong had learnt the tidings 
 of his great trial when the Crimean War 
 had just come to an end ; so, instead of 
 coming home to England, he determined 
 to plunge into a few years of travel and 
 adventures, hoping that change of scene 
 and time would gradually cure him of his 
 wound. 
 
 Taking Donald Inverarity, his faithful 
 soldier- servant, with him, he went to out- 
 of-the-way places, as much for the sake of 
 change as for the avoidance o£ old friends, 
 who might chance to hit upon the one 
 subject in conversation to w4iich he could 
 not yet bear allusion to be made.
 
 Janet's choice. 169 
 
 Donald was a capital servant, liardy, 
 active, and intrepid, and together they 
 scaled mountains in Moldavia and Wal- 
 lachia, penetrated into Herzegovina and 
 Montenegro, and so passed nearly two 
 years. 
 
 Major Armstrong appeared to strangers 
 to be an excellent traveller, and to rejoice 
 in even and tolerably good spirits, but 
 no one knew, not even Donald, what an 
 awful time it was for him ! 
 
 Still he got through it somehow,' and 
 when he at last came to England, and 
 heard that she whom he had so loved 
 and trusted had sold herself to be the 
 wife of a man old enough to be her father, 
 for the sake of wealth and position, and 
 that her husband held her as — 
 
 " Something better than his dog, a little dearer than 
 his horse," 
 
 he could aflfo^d a little pity for the woman
 
 170 Janet's choice. 
 
 who had done him this wrong. He never 
 went near her; he had discovered that 
 the image to which he had bowed down, 
 beHeving it to be pure gold, was composed 
 of some base alloy, and that even the 
 gilding was now wearing off. So he 
 went his way, and led his life solitarily 
 in the midst of a crowd, while she lived 
 on in the life she had chosen for herself, 
 never thinking or caring for the misery 
 she had worked. 
 
 Major Armstrong had had other 
 troubles, too, but nothing had hit him 
 so hard, or wounded him so deeply as 
 this one. 
 
 And as he gazed on Petronel, and saw 
 her in her careless grace and beauty, reck- 
 less of the mischief she was doing, and 
 playing with manly hearts of which her 
 shallow nature could not appreciate the 
 worth and value, he longed to warn those
 
 Janet's choice. 171 
 
 unskilled mariners from the dangerous 
 rocks and slioals towards which they were 
 drifting, lured by the delusive voice of the 
 beautiful syren. 
 
 But Major Armstrong was a man of 
 the world, and he knew well enough that 
 if there is one point more than another 
 on which it is unsafe to give advice, it 
 is on one's neighbour's love affairs, so 
 he could only look on in pity from 
 afar. 
 
 All this time Petronel was vexing her 
 heart out at getting so little notice from 
 him. She was getting provoked with 
 Mr. Poyns, most irrationally, for his great 
 
 4 
 
 but unspoken devotion to her. 
 
 It was tiresome to be stared at for 
 ever by a man who was afraid of the 
 sound of his own voice. There was a 
 spice of naughtiness in Petronel that 
 would not be restrained, and which
 
 172 Janet's choice. 
 
 puzzled Grace sorely, occasionally, in her 
 dealings with her. She knew quite well 
 what was right, and sometimes she would 
 really try very hard to act up to her 
 principles, but they were built on shift- 
 ing sand, so it was very uncertain, from 
 day to day, on what level they might be 
 found. 
 
 Grace now and then saw that a little 
 sisterly advice was desirable, and might 
 safely be administered ; and whenever she 
 caught Petronel in the right vein she 
 would speak, and she generally found 
 her words taken in good part ; but Pe- 
 tronel was a spoilt beauty, and she was 
 as shifty and changeable as the wind, 
 so it required all Grace's tact to enable 
 her to choose the exact moment in which 
 her words of advice would be listened to 
 with respect and attention, instead of 
 the ninety-nine moments out of the
 
 Janet's choice. 173 
 
 hundred Id wliicli tliey would float on 
 the air, without having a chance of being 
 heeded. Grace had tact in a rare degree, 
 and that is a gift by itself, and quite 
 apart from and different from other gifts. 
 For all the practical purposes of life, 
 tact avails infinitely more than talent, 
 it penetrates everywhere, it is not one 
 of the five senses, but it quickens and 
 assists all. It is an intuitive feeling that 
 leads one to hit the right nail on the 
 head, and to hit it so cleverly that no 
 one can see the blow, and yet so firmly 
 that when it is once driven in no one 
 can take it out again. Grace had long 
 ago discovered that there is a time for 
 everything, and it was her fine tact 
 which showed her when was the exact 
 moment at which her somewhat shallow 
 and artificial sister presented a piece of 
 reality sufficient to work upon.
 
 174 Janet's choice. 
 
 For Petronel was sadly unreal, that 
 was the worst of her. Grace puzzled 
 over her often, and never quite under- 
 stood her. Indeed, the whole thoughts 
 and habits of these two sisters were 
 about as different as the thoughts and 
 habits of any two people can well be. 
 Perhaps the feeling which each had most 
 strongly for the other was pity. 
 
 Petronel pitied Grace for her weak 
 health and consequent enforced seclusion 
 from the world and its pleasures, and 
 Grace pitied Petronel for those very 
 thinofs which Petronel thouQ:ht herself 
 most fortunate in possessing. 
 
 Petronel never attempted to under- 
 stand Grace, indeed I do not think that 
 she ever troubled her pretty head with 
 the idea that Grace had anything in her 
 worth understanding; but Grace tried 
 very hard to read the motives aright
 
 Janet's choice. 175 
 
 wliicb actuated Petronel most in her 
 somewhat erratic course of proceedings. 
 
 Grace was fretting now a good deal 
 over her beautiful sister's vagaries. She 
 did not half like the way she accepted so 
 much attention as her due. 
 
 No doubt there were great excuses to 
 be made for one of Petronel's character 
 and temperament in the incessant atmos- 
 phere of homage she was becoming ac- 
 customed to breathe. 
 
 Too much sweetness is apt to be 
 cloying, and too much openly expressed 
 admiration is loweriug to a woman's 
 mind, and is apt to make her forget the 
 divinity in the humanity of her human 
 face divine. 
 
 '' Does she ever think .?" Grace was 
 sometimes inclined to ask, as she watched 
 Petronel's apparently aimless life. 
 
 Major Armstrong watched her too,
 
 176 Janet's choice. 
 
 thongli Petronel knew it not. He was 
 studying her as a beautiful picture, and 
 trying to read through and through her 
 artifices. 
 
 " She is a dangerous girl, depend upon 
 it," he said to himself; '' there is some- 
 thing to me repellent and snake-like in 
 her beauty, though I suppose I should 
 be laughed at if I were to say so. Per- 
 haps it is that having felt the sting, I 
 now know where to look for the con- 
 cealed venom of such treacherous beau- 
 ties." 
 
 Poor Mr. Poyns was becoming every 
 day more hopelessly and helplessly in 
 love. And Petronel, without troubling 
 herself to speak to him, or ceasing 
 her flirtations with the other gentlemen, 
 had a way of throwing him an en- 
 couraging word or glance now and then, 
 which revived his spirits whenever they
 
 Janet's choice. 177 
 
 were drooping, and kept bim her faith- 
 ful and devoted slave in spite of all her 
 careless conduct. 
 
 Archie was too much occupied with 
 his own affairs to notice Petronel much, 
 and Lady Morton was one of those blind, 
 adoring mothers who think their children 
 can do no harm, so Grace kept the grie- 
 vance to herself, but none the less did 
 it worry her for having no one to 
 sympathize with her. She was anxious 
 about Archie too. He was sadly changed 
 in these last few weeks, and she was 
 sure there was something weighing 
 heavily on his spirits. 
 
 She had never seen him so doleful 
 and depressed before. Something must 
 indeed have gone very wrong with 
 him she was sure, or her darling brother 
 would never avoid her as he was now 
 doing. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 Janet's choice. 
 
 Grace was longing to be up and doing ; 
 she saw there was something in which 
 she might be useful, and she longed to 
 be called upon by her brother to aid 
 and comfort him. 
 
 But Grace had learnt in her quiet 
 invalid life a great deal that comes only 
 by painful experience to the strong and 
 active. 
 
 Her strength was to sit still, to re- 
 main where she was and think and pre- 
 pare her mind, and arm herself at all 
 points, in case she should be suddenly 
 called upon to act. 
 
 Grace possessed in a large degree that 
 fore-thought and kindliness, and that 
 real anxiety to be of service which arise 
 from an utter absence of consideration 
 as to '' self." 
 
 She was a quiet but important mem- 
 ber of that household — for she was a 
 
 M 1
 
 Janet's choice. 179 
 
 sort of back-bone and support to eacli 
 and all the others; severally and col- 
 lectively. 
 
 Oh ! how she longed to make a clean 
 sweep of all the visitors, and to have her 
 darling brother and sister to herself again, 
 so that she might be able to help them 
 to (as she expressed it) ' put themselves 
 to rights.' 
 
 "It is of no use my trying to do it 
 for them, they must do it for themselves 
 if the effect is to be lasting, but perhaps 
 I can help them," she said to herself. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Scorn not the smallness of daily endeavour, 
 Let the great meaning ennoble it ever, 
 Droop not o'er efforts expended in vain, 
 Work, as believing, that labour is gain." 
 
 s. M. 
 
 " TT7ELL Janet lass ! did you give the 
 laird a rose ? I see you have 
 kept some of them for your own cheeks," 
 said Andrew Macpherson when Janet ap- 
 peared at dinner after her interview with 
 Sir Archibald Morton. 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson looked up quickly 
 from the dish she was helping at the
 
 Janet's choice. 181 
 
 moment, and gazed inquiringly at her 
 eldest daughter. 
 
 '' Never you mind her, mother," said 
 Andrew, '' it's nought but a bit of business 
 'twixt the three of us, the laird and 
 Janet and me, and for the present 
 you'll do well not to interfere in the 
 matter." 
 
 The tyrant of the family was accus- 
 tomed to be obeyed unhesitatingly by 
 the whole household, and though he spoke 
 in a more amiable tone than usual, Mrs. 
 Macpherson was too well tutored to speak 
 another word without leave. 
 
 Susan and Alice were brimming over 
 with curiosity to know what was going 
 on. They were fine upstanding lasses, 
 almost, if not quite, young women in 
 their own estimation, and already keenly 
 excited at any idea of a love affair. 
 
 Even little Emma, fat and stolid as
 
 182 Janet's choice. 
 
 she was, opened lier round eyes wider 
 than usual, to stare at sister Janet. 
 Their father was evidently in high 
 feather. He talked more than he had 
 done for ages. 
 
 He handed Janet the pepper, and con- 
 descended to inform her that corn was 
 easy, but that the cattle-market was dull 
 and likely to be duller. 
 
 It was very unusual for Andrew to con- 
 descend to notice his daughters at all ; 
 he was generally moody and sullen in his 
 manners, snapping at them, and snarling at 
 his wife whenever they ventured to make 
 any remark, and to-day his evident good 
 temper to Janet was so marked that she 
 felt more and more afraid of the storm 
 of abuse she must expect when he found 
 out what she had done. She felt as if she 
 was receiving his polite attentions under 
 false pretences, and the evident surprise
 
 Janet's choice. 183 
 
 aud awe of her mother and sisters was all 
 the more difficult for her to bear, as she 
 knew how dismayed they would be when 
 they discovered the truth of the matter. 
 
 Andrew in the meantime ate his dinner 
 with immense satisfaction, bestowing now 
 and then sundry nods, and becks, and 
 wreathed smiles on his eldest daughter, 
 which were meant to be encouraging, 
 but wliich were in reality quite the 
 reverse. 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson was divided between 
 maternal pride in Janet's good looks and 
 the notice they had attracted, and the 
 wifely submission which induced her 
 obey her lord and master in all things. 
 
 Her character resembled one of those 
 modern materials which are woven with 
 a fine silky texture in the warp, but which 
 in the woof are of a common and coarse 
 description.
 
 184 Janet's choice. 
 
 Janet could never quite understand 
 her mother ; at times the common home- 
 . spun predominated so largely, apparently 
 in the texture, that her words and actions 
 were of the simplest description ; then 
 again, all of a sudden, a flash of the silky 
 element would startle her with its 
 brilliancy. 
 
 It was a wretched, miserable meal 
 for Janet. She made a pretence of 
 eating, but she could not manage to 
 swallow a single mouthful. Food 
 choked her. 
 
 Her cheeks grew hotter and hotter, 
 as she marked her father's high spirits 
 and heard his coarse jokes and insinua- 
 tions. 
 
 She could not master her terror, when 
 the knowledge that the crisis had come 
 was made plain to her by her father's 
 rising from the table and beckoning
 
 Janet's choice. 185 
 
 her mysteriously to follow liim into the 
 best parlour. 
 
 It was a small and somewhat stuffy 
 apartment, profusely adorned (?) with 
 staring woollen anti - macassars, and 
 worsted- work cushions. 
 
 It was considered rather a grand, a 
 magnificent salon by the simple folk at 
 Lashiels farm, and was never used except 
 on those state occasions when the neigh- 
 bouring farmers were uow and then 
 entertained at tea therein. 
 
 Janet shuddered as her father opened 
 the door, and looked round to see if 
 she was following. 
 
 Instinctively she caught hold of her 
 mother's dress, and with a silent, plead- 
 ing look drew her after her. 
 
 Andrew scowled for a moment at his 
 wife for intruding, but the silken weft 
 was in the ascendant, and Mrs. Mac-
 
 186 Janet's choice. 
 
 pherson, with a courage she rarely 
 manifested, returned his look with con- 
 siderable hardihood, and was not to be 
 frowned down from standing up boldly 
 to help and comfort her daughter while 
 she was in such evident need of sympathy 
 and kindness. No gleam of that ten- 
 derness for suffering sad humanity, which 
 is the most god-like attribute in man, 
 ever softened Andrew Macpherson's 
 stern nature. 
 
 His heart was as hard as the nether 
 mill-stone, and about as incapable of 
 kindliness. 
 
 On this occasion, however, he was 
 inclined to be more lenient than usual, 
 simply because he looked upon Janet 
 as a means whereby wealth and power 
 might one day be his. 
 
 " Come in here, lass," he said, *'and 
 tell your father and mother all about it ;
 
 Janet's choice. 187 
 
 not tliat tliere is mucli to tell me 
 that I do not know already, but your 
 mother, may be, will like to hear from 
 your own bonny lips that you are to be 
 a lady, and to rank with the best in the 
 land." 
 
 Sa}ang these words, Andrew seated 
 himself in the best arm-chair, planting his 
 feet with his heavy farm-boots firmly in 
 the very centre of a gaudy bunch of roses 
 which adorned a foot-stool, and was 
 evidently prepared to act as judge and jury 
 at once on the trembling prisoner before 
 him. 
 
 Poor Janet had lost all her roses now. 
 She could hardly stand upright, and her 
 knees knocked together from sheer terror. 
 
 She knew so well what a storm would 
 come when the truth had been told ; how 
 could she venture to tell it ? 
 
 Mrs. Macpherson came to the rescue,
 
 188 Janet's choice. 
 
 and putting her arm round lier daughter's 
 slender waist, said. 
 
 '' Leave her to me, father ! the poor 
 lassie is flurried and frightened." 
 
 '* Flurried and frightened," said An- 
 drew, " may-be, she's a bit excited at 
 her good fortune; but don't tell me, 
 woman, that she's not all the better 
 pleased because the village maidens 
 will be mad with envy at her good 
 luck." 
 
 " I've no good luck, father, and you 
 are quite mistaken ;" said Janet, forcing 
 herself to speak, though the words came 
 like gasps, and there was a little 
 trembling sob in her voice. 
 
 " No good luck !" said Andrew, 
 '' heaven and earth ! what does the girl 
 mean ? No good luck, to be the chosen 
 bride of the laird, to be made a lady 
 of, and to have jewels to wear in your
 
 Janet's choice. 189 
 
 liair, and fine clothes, and carriages and 
 horses at your disposal !" 
 
 '' Speak up, Janet, dear," said her 
 mother, soothingly, " tell us what is 
 between you and the laird. What does 
 father mean ?" 
 
 " There is nothing between me and the 
 laird," said Janet, as soon as she could 
 speak. 
 
 "Nothing!" said Andrew, disconso- 
 lately. " Nothing ! then what was he 
 talking to you about when I left you 
 alone in the garden ?" 
 
 Janet was silent. 
 
 " Will you tell me, girl !" roared An- 
 drew ; then, thinking perhaps he had 
 been too hasty, and that it was very 
 possible Sir Archibald Morton had not 
 yet gone the length of a proposal, he 
 added, more mildly. '' Do you mean to 
 tell me he was only philandering to-day,
 
 190 Janet's choice. 
 
 or did he ask you to become liie wife ?" 
 
 " He did ask me," said Janet. 
 
 '' He did /" said Andrew, triumphantly, 
 '' then what in heaven's name, girl, are 
 you making such a to-do about telling 
 us ? I wish you joy, my lass, and am 
 proud to have lived to see this day." 
 
 '' My darling girl ! my joy ! my bless- 
 ing !" murmured Mrs. Macpherson, as 
 she kissed Janet rapturously. 
 
 " Stop, mother ! stop, father ! I have 
 not finished what I was going to say to 
 you. The laird did ask me to be his 
 wife, but I told him no, that that could 
 never be, and I asked him to go away 
 and not to come here any more." 
 
 Had a thunderbolt fallen into the 
 midst of the quiet homestead of Lashiels, 
 had the earth opened at his feet, Andrew 
 Macpherson could hardly have been more 
 astonished than he was by his daughter's
 
 Janet's choice. 191 
 
 statement. He started to his feet, scat- 
 terinof cushions and couvrettes in all 
 directions, and kicking away the gaudy 
 footstool in his amazement. 
 
 Janet, in spite of her dumb misery, 
 her speechless dread of what was coming 
 next, found herself, in a sort of passive 
 inert way, taking in the general aspect of 
 the room, and wondering at the un- 
 wonted appearance, amidst its pretence 
 of elegance, of her father in his coarse 
 working dress and thick leathern gaiters. 
 It certainly was a thoroughly incongruous 
 scene. 
 
 There was a sort of air of got up 
 finery about the furniture. The coloured 
 prints which adorned the walls were 
 resplendent in their gilded frames, the 
 smartly bound books were placed at 
 regular intervals on the table, in the 
 manner which Mrs. Macpherson was
 
 192 Janet's choice. 
 
 accustomed to consider the height of 
 elegance. The basket with wax-flowers, 
 with faded colours and broken petals, 
 which occupied the centre of the chimney- 
 piece, had once been the pride of Mrs. 
 Macpherson's heart, and she could hardly 
 consent to Janet's fancy for a bouquet 
 of fresh real blossoms to be placed on the 
 table, as in her private heart of hearts 
 she thought Nature's gift too cheap and 
 common to have a place in her best 
 parlour. It was Janet's whim, however, 
 and as she was such a good girl her 
 mother did not like to thwart her ; but 
 she could see no beauty in the graceful 
 groups of ferns and flowers which Janet 
 loved to arrange, and if she had had 
 her own way would have banished them 
 from the scene. As the bouquet was 
 to the rest of the room, so Janet was to 
 the rest of the household.
 
 Janet's choice. 193 
 
 She was altogether superior to her sisters, 
 both in mind and body, and it was just 
 her refinement which made the difference. 
 
 Andrew Macpherson remained for a 
 moment struck dumb with amazement 
 and incredulity. 
 
 Then, when it dawned upon him that 
 his daughter was in earnest, that she had 
 really meant what she said when she had 
 confessed to having refused the grand 
 match which had been in her power, and on 
 which he had set his whole heart and soul, 
 his wrath and indignation knew no bounds. 
 Such a torrent of abuse fell on poor 
 Janet's luckless head as it is not within 
 the hmits of an ordinary pen to retail. 
 
 Oaths, threats, scoldings followed one 
 another as fast as the rain -drops in a 
 heavy thunder-storm. 
 
 Andrew Macpherson was like a creature 
 transformed, he knew not what he was 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 104 Janet's choice. 
 
 saying, and, as tlie torrent of passionate 
 words fell from his lips, his wife and 
 daughter clung to each other in infinite 
 terror. 
 
 Trembling with fright, they gazed at 
 the angry man, and marked how his 
 features were distorted with rage ; then 
 his head sunk heavily forward on his 
 breast, a sudden spasm seized him, and 
 he fell down on the floor in a fit. Un- 
 bridled rage and passionate emotion had 
 done their work, and Andrew Macpherson 
 was stricken down with apoplexy. 
 
 It is strange how sickness alters the 
 relative position of the members of a 
 household towards each other. 
 
 Andrew, who had been the terror and 
 dread of the whole familv, whose voice 
 had been all-powerful to rule, and whose 
 will had always been law, now stricken 
 down with sudden illness, lay at the
 
 Janet's choice. 195 
 
 mercy of the women whom he had treated 
 so cruelly. 
 
 His frenzies had been so alarming, and 
 his temper so violent, that to hide from 
 him when he drew near, had been the 
 ordinary strategy of the younger girls. 
 
 Now he lay prone and helpless on a 
 sick-bed, and the little mice who had been 
 so afraid of the lion when it had been able 
 to roar, soon conquered their old fear, 
 and began to help their mother to attend 
 on the sick man. 
 
 The doctor was sent for, and he pro- 
 nounced it to be a sharp attack, brought 
 on probably by unwonted excitement and 
 agitation. 
 
 Then, and not till then, did it occur to 
 Mrs. Macpherson to blame Janet for her 
 share in the catastrophe. 
 
 " If it had not been for you, Janet, we 
 should have been all as comfortable as 
 
 2
 
 196 Janet's choice. 
 
 possible," she said. " You are a wicked, 
 ungrateful girl, and I wonder you are not 
 ashamed of yourself, I do, bringing trouble 
 and confusion into a peaceful household. 
 What business had you, I wonder, when 
 the laird was so condescending as to wish 
 to make a lady of you, w^hat business, I 
 say, had you to be so rude as to refuse 
 him!" 
 
 '' My dear mother," said poor Janet, 
 imploringly, '' don't you turn against me, 
 too — I am so very miserable !" 
 
 " Miserable ! and I should like to know 
 whose fault it is if you are miserable, 
 indeed !" said Mrs. Macpherson, angrily. 
 '' You don't care, I suppose, that you are 
 breaking your mother's heart and killing 
 your father by your conduct. — No ! don't 
 come here with your hypocrisy," she 
 added, as Janet leant over her father, 
 and with gentle, womanly tenderness
 
 Janet's choice. 197 
 
 began to bathe Lis burning brow with 
 a cooHng lotion. 
 
 Janet stepped back, deeply hurt and 
 grieved at her mother's manner, and re- 
 signed her place to Susan, who was ready 
 and anxious to do anything that might be 
 needed in the sick-room. 
 
 There was very little sentiment about 
 Susan Macpherson, but a great deal of 
 common sense. 
 
 She was thoroughly utilitarian, practical, 
 and business-like, and quite incapable of 
 seeing things from the same point of 
 view as that from which Janet beheld them, 
 
 Susan had been so accustomed all her 
 life to be bullied and worried by her 
 father, that she had by this time come to 
 regard his temper as a matter of course, 
 and was not hurt by the things he said, 
 as Janet was. 
 
 Susan stepped into Janet's place at
 
 198 Janet's choice. 
 
 her father's bedside quite naturally, 
 and Janet, finding herself an object of 
 wrath and distrust in her mother's 
 sight, wandered disconsolately out of 
 doors ; rambhng all unconsciously till 
 she came to the river-side. She then 
 seated herself on a low mossy bank, 
 and tried gradually to still her aching, 
 throbbing heart, and to realise all that 
 had taken place in that long and weary 
 day. 
 
 It was evening now. The soft twilight 
 greys and browns were enveloping the 
 landscape, and dropping dainty cloud 
 curtains over the trees and mountains. 
 The sun was sinking gradually in its 
 rose-coloured bed, and sending parting 
 gleams of farewell glory up the moun- 
 tain sides. 
 
 Poor Janet ! there seemed very few 
 gleams left to lighten up the landscape
 
 Janet's choice. 199 
 
 of her life ! Very few rays of bright- 
 ness, but much of gloom, shadow, and 
 darkness. 
 
 ** Whatever I do seems to be wrong," 
 she sighed wearily to herself, as she 
 tried to fix her thoughts and go over 
 ao^ain in her mind the events of the 
 last few weeks. " Whatever I do seems 
 to be wrong and to hurt somebody ! 
 Oh ! I wish I knew what was best to 
 be done !" 
 
 By degrees her thoughts became 
 calmer, and she was able to review the 
 events of the day with tolerable exact- 
 ness. 
 
 She was very, very sorry for what had 
 happened, she could not bear the idea 
 of giving pain to anyone, and she knew 
 that the laird had suffered a great deal 
 more than he had shown outwardly from 
 her refusal. But how could she have
 
 200 jajset's choice. 
 
 done otherwise ? With her heart and 
 her whole hfe's love given to Donald, 
 how could she promise herself to an- 
 other. 
 
 Her mind was very clear on this 
 point at all events, and by degrees she 
 began to feel thankful that there was 
 one point on which she stood so firmly 
 that the troubles and mists and perse- 
 cutions around her did not in the 
 very least cause her to overbalance 
 herself. 
 
 To have one central point clearly do- 
 fined is a great help in threading the 
 intricate maze of right and wrong, and 
 Janet knew that her love for Donald 
 Avas so fixed and unalterable, that it 
 was indeed a beacon-light in the storm, 
 a guiding-star in the cloudy darkness 
 of her other troubles. A sudden emer- 
 gency like a sudden illness, has often
 
 Janet's choice. 201 
 
 a most opposite effect on persons of 
 opposite temperament. Janet who was 
 by nature full of energy, activity and 
 strength of character, was now for the 
 first time bewildered and cast down. 
 
 For the moment she felt inclined to 
 give all up, and to resign herself pas- 
 sively to whatever her parents might 
 wish her to do. 
 
 But she was the same energetic person 
 still, though for a moment the weight 
 of trouble seemed to crush the life out 
 of her. 
 
 The strength to fight for the right 
 was still unquenched within her, and 
 she knew that the old battle must be 
 fought, and the old work recommenced 
 just as if this inevitable cross had 
 never come at all. 
 
 Janet went back to her daily work, 
 with more calmness than she could have
 
 202 Janet's choice. 
 
 thought possible, considering the un- 
 settled state of the house, and the 
 turmoil caused in the establishment by 
 the master's sudden illness. 
 
 Work was the thing she wanted to 
 settle her mind and to calm her nerves, 
 and she was wise enough to see that 
 the remedy lies always nearest to the 
 hand, and the dock-leaf which grows 
 near the nettle will cure the sting of the 
 latter better than the remedies which we 
 go far afield to seek.
 
 203 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Talk of lost hopes and broken heart ! his own 
 Sent such a flame into his face, I knew 
 Some sudden vivid pleasure hit him there." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 " T)LESS the people, why cannot they 
 stir themselves and do something ?" 
 said Mrs. Becket the next morning in 
 an audible aside to Helen Anstruther. 
 
 "What would you like to do?" said 
 Helen absently, she had not been listening 
 to Mrs. Becket, she had been trying to 
 catch a conversation which was going 
 on at the other end of the breakfast
 
 204 Janet's ciioioe. 
 
 table between Major Armstrong and 
 Petronel. 
 
 " I declare it is too bad of Petronel, 
 she monopolises all the gentlemen, and 
 never lets anyone else have a chance," 
 she was saying moodily to herself, and 
 as her thoughts were running in this 
 direction, she did not half hear what her 
 neighbour Mrs. Becket was saying. 
 
 " What do T want to do ?" repeated 
 Mrs. Becket rather tartly, "I don't 
 much care what it is, as long as it is 
 something. I cannot bear that modern 
 stagnation which is creeping over every- 
 one now-a-days. It is a sign of the times. 
 If the world goes on at this rate much 
 longer, people w411 soon think it too much 
 trouble to move from their chairs after 
 breakfast, because they will have to 
 come back again to them at luncheon 
 time."
 
 Janet's choice. 205 
 
 '* You think we shall arrive at making 
 it always six o'clock, always tea-time, 
 like the March hare in Ahce's Adven- 
 tures in Wonderland?" said Grace, who 
 was sitting opposite and had overheard 
 Mrs. Becket's remarks. 
 
 ''Ha! ha!" laughed Mrs. Becket. 
 " It would take something stronger than 
 the best butter to oil some people's 
 watches." 
 
 " T have always been under the delusion 
 that the world was going too fast now- 
 a-days, Mrs. Becket, " said Colonel An- 
 struther, " it is quite a novelty to hear 
 anyone lament the slowness of the 
 age." 
 
 '' Well ! a novelty is always refreshing. 
 They say there's nothing new under 
 the sun, but now and then some one 
 does start a fresh idea, and when that is 
 the case, I think the public ought to come
 
 206 Janet's choice. 
 
 down handsome as a reward/* said Mrs. 
 Becket. 
 
 " But it strikes me tliat the British 
 public does not very particularly appre- 
 ciate being told to mend its paces " said 
 Colonel Anstruther. '' My experience of 
 life is that everv screw likes to be 
 to be thought a racer, and that, if you 
 want to grease the wheels of anyone's 
 family coach, you must get the best 
 butter to do it with; it is astonishing 
 how smoothly this sort of vehicle goes 
 on its way if it is well oiled with self- 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " Juggernaut's car, my dear Colonel, 
 nothing less ! and I'll wager that many 
 people stoop to be crushed under its 
 wheels merely because its name is 
 fashion," said Mrs. Becket. 
 
 " Fashion is a hard and exacting task- 
 master, I allow," said Colonel Anstruther
 
 Janet's choice. 207 
 
 laughing, *' but I demur a little to the 
 Juoforernaut chariot idea." 
 
 '' My dear sir, the votaries of fashion 
 follow its lead as blindly now as they 
 have always done since the old days 
 of Solomon. Do you mean to tell me 
 that the old king's wives did not fight 
 and squabble which should take the 
 pattern of the Queen of Sheba's gown, 
 quite as anxiously as London ladies do 
 now-a-days to be the first to get 
 hold of Paris fashions," said Mrs. 
 Becket. 
 
 Every one laughed at this speech, 
 and a lively argument commenced all 
 round the table on the subject 
 mooted. 
 
 " You said just now, Mrs. Becket, that 
 the age was degenerating," said Major 
 Armstrong, " and now you go back to 
 the days of King Solomon, to prove to
 
 208 JANET S CHOICE. 
 
 US tliat human nature is human nature 
 in all as^es and in all climes." 
 
 " Well, I maintain that I am right, 
 nevertheless !" said Mrs. Becket. 
 '' ' Motley's the only wear,' I am con- 
 vinced." 
 
 " But it does not do to set fashion at 
 defiance," said Lady Morton. 
 
 " i^o, of course not !" said Mrs. Becket ; 
 '^but there is a vast difference between 
 defying fashion and being her blind and 
 humble slave." 
 
 " There are so many followers and so 
 few leaders, that one cannot wonder that 
 the public generally have such an 
 exalted idea of custom and usage," said 
 Grace. 
 
 " What a number of sins that noun of 
 multitude signifying many, the imhlic, has 
 upon its shoulders, and ought to have 
 upon its conscience, if such a vague
 
 Janet's choice. 209 
 
 tiling may be said to have a con- 
 science," said Major Armstrong. 
 
 '' Whicli of its particular sins are we 
 supposed to be discussing now ?" said 
 Sir Archibald languidly. '' I did not hear 
 the beginning of the argument !" 
 
 " The particular sin on which Mrs. 
 Becket is sitting in judgment is the de- 
 generacy of the age, in wasting so much 
 time in sitting over the breakfast-table 
 instead of making the most of this lovely 
 July day," said Petronel. 
 
 '• Quite right, Miss Morton," said 
 Colonel Anstruther. " I am sure we 
 should improve the shining hour more 
 skilfully out of doors than in the house, 
 though perhaps Mrs. Becket will say that 
 the puhlic don't care about improving the 
 shining hours, they only try to kill them 
 as conveniently as may be." 
 
 '' Archie, do break up this group of 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 Janet's choice. 
 
 pliilosopbers, and suggest to us a plan of 
 campaign," said Petronel. 
 
 "What do you say to an excursion to 
 Craigraorna, and a picnic luncheon at the 
 cottage by the falls?" said Lady Morton. 
 '• Lady Katherine, I believe you have 
 never seen Craigmorna, and I assure you 
 it is one of our lions, and you ought not 
 to leave this neio^hbourhood without 
 seeing it." 
 
 Lady Katherine Anstruther signified 
 polite pleasure at the suggestion, and the 
 motion was accordingly carried unani- 
 mously. 
 
 " There is room for all in the break," 
 said Sir Archibald, " and I am sure, 
 Grace, the expedition will not tire you." 
 
 ** I should so like you to come, too," he 
 added softly to his little sister, as he 
 followed her into the oak-panelled pas- 
 sage leading from the hall to her boudoir.
 
 Janet's choice. 211 
 
 He looked at the open door of her 
 sanctum, and seemed inclined to enter it 
 with her. 
 
 He was so longing, and yet so dreading 
 to (as he expressed it to himself) have it 
 all out with Brownie, but as he drew 
 nearer he saw a slight flutter of feminine 
 garments, and became aware that Lady 
 Violet Ogilvie was in his sister's room. 
 
 *' Do you want me, dear Archie ?" said 
 Grace. 
 
 '' Xo, dear, not particularly, but do try 
 to manage Craigmorna to-day ; you have 
 not been with us in any of our expeditions, 
 and it is just the place for you to sketch." 
 
 He spoke with assumed carelessness, 
 but Grace knew every tone and variation 
 of her brother's voice, and she was certain 
 he wanted her advice and sympathy 
 for some trouble, real or imaginary, 
 over which he was brooding. 
 
 p 2
 
 212 Janet's choice. 
 
 '' Very well, dear, I will certainly go if 
 you wish it, it is very good of you to 
 think of me in your arrangements." 
 
 " Am I in the way ?" said Violet, 
 emerging timidly from the room to where 
 the brother and sister stood in the 
 passage. 
 
 *' Oh ! dear no !" said Archie hastily, 
 " I am glad you have got the entree to 
 Grace's boudoir. Lady Violet ; and now I 
 think of it, I believe you have to thank 
 me for your first introduction to it." 
 
 " Indeed, I do thank you. Sir Archi- 
 bald, very much. I am afraid I did not 
 half show my gratitude to you for your 
 kindness about my fall, and I have had 
 such happy hours with dear Grace too ; 
 it was horribly forgetful of me never to 
 have expressed my gratitude !" 
 
 She looked up so sweetly and simply, as 
 she said this, that Sir Archibald Morton
 
 Janet's choice. 213 
 
 was quite taken with her girlish grace. 
 
 " She is very lady-hke," he thought. 
 " I think Grace is right to encourage her 
 to be with her. She is worth the whole 
 Anstruther lot put together." 
 
 '' Well, I must tell you you are in high 
 favour to be admitted into such sacred 
 precincts," said Archie good-humouredly. 
 " As for Grace, she is a most stern and 
 inflexible lady-abbess, and lets very few 
 people into her cloistered cell." 
 
 " She has been most hospitable to me, 
 I am sure," said Lady Violet, with a 
 little affectionate gesture to Grace, which 
 Archie ought to have thought most 
 winning, but which he did not think of at 
 all, so full was his whole heart and soul 
 of Janet and her rejection of him. 
 
 Violet, unlike Petronel, never gave a 
 moment's thought to her graces or her 
 powers of fascination.
 
 214 Janet's choice. 
 
 She was thorouglily simple and natural, 
 and could not Lave been affected if she 
 had tried. 
 
 Affectation would never have suited 
 her, neither would she ever have borne 
 the idea of anything unreal. She was 
 true to the back-bone, and open and 
 honest as the day, but as yet her character 
 was unformed. It requires an acute per- 
 ception, a strong power of foreknowledge, 
 to be able to see the forest tree in 
 the acorn ; and ninety-nine out of a 
 hundred people would have passed 
 Lady Violet Ogilvie by as a sweet- * 
 looking but rather uninteresting girl. 
 
 Grace, however, saw beyond what the 
 world saw, and she felt very certain that 
 there were germs of high and noble attri- 
 butes in the soul of the quiet, modest 
 girl, who seemed almost afraid of the 
 sound of her own voice.
 
 Janet's choice. 215 
 
 But Grace was too busy with her own 
 worries and frets, just then, to be as far- 
 seeing as was her wont. 
 
 There were two selves in Grace, as 
 there are in nearly every human being 
 possessing brains; the private and inner 
 self, and the self which is our link with 
 the rest of the world. Perhaps, properly 
 speaking, they might be called the spiritu- 
 ality and the humanity of her nature. 
 
 Had she given way entirely to the first, 
 she might have become too contemplative, 
 too emotional. But Grace, fortunately^, 
 possessed the proper balance of power; 
 enough of the humanity to prevent the 
 spirituality from submerging it, and yet 
 not enough to quench the spirit, to 
 smother the kindling sparks of emulation 
 and Sehnsucht which gave fire and cha- 
 racter to her disposition. 
 
 With all the wealth of happiness given
 
 216 Janet's choice. 
 
 her in the possession of so much heart 
 and intellect, there was a thrill of tender- 
 ness in her soul at the idea that she was 
 one of a fold, one single member of a 
 large body, whose minds and souls would 
 one day be doubtless in unison, and who, 
 though they now walked in darkness, she 
 knew, and rejoiced to know, would one 
 day be brought into the marvellous light 
 of full and perfect sympathy which we 
 get near enough sometimes on earth 
 to catch a glimpse of, and yet which 
 we always somehow just contrive to 
 miss. 
 
 '' I must be off now to the stables to see 
 if I can manage a team to-day ; mind, 
 you have promised to come with us, 
 Brownie. Lady Violet, I hope you will 
 keep her up to the mark," said Archie, as 
 he left the room. 
 
 " He is a dear, thoughtful brother,"
 
 Janet's choice. 217 
 
 said Grace, looking after liim from the 
 window. 
 
 " Oh, Grace ! how nice it must be for 
 you to have a mother and a brother ! — 
 and a sister, too," she added, a little 
 doubtfully, for the notion of having a 
 sister like Petronel was not a very com- 
 forting one, according to her ideas on the 
 subject. 
 
 '' Poor little flower, you have a lonely 
 lot, I fear," said Grace, tenderly. 
 
 '^ I do feel so very much alone in the 
 world sometimes," said Violet, musingly, 
 " but I must not complain ; people are 
 really very kind to me, and the things I 
 dread most do not often turn out as bad 
 as I expect them to be." 
 
 " Poor child ! you dreaded coming here 
 very much, I daresay," said Grace. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, awfully ! you cannot tell 
 how much I hated the idea of being
 
 218 Janet's choice. 
 
 quartered upon people I did not know, 
 and who would be sure to think me a 
 bore," said Violet. 
 
 " Why in the world should you imagine 
 that we should think you a bore ?" said 
 Grace. "No, my dear, you must never 
 think we do not care to have you among 
 us. Mamma was talking to me only yes- 
 terday, and saying how like you are to 
 your mother, and how well she remem- 
 bered her ; you know they used to be 
 great friends in old days." 
 
 "Were they?" said Violet; "oh, how 
 I should like Lady Morton to tell me 
 about her ! I don't know half as mucli 
 as I should like to know about her ; you 
 know I was so young when she died, and 
 she had been ill for so long before that." 
 
 " Dear child," said Grace, " I will ask 
 mamma to tell you all she knows, I am 
 sure she would like to talk to you about
 
 Janet's choice. 219 
 
 it, only she was kept back from be- 
 ginniDg by the fear that she might un- 
 intentionally pain you." 
 
 " Nothing could pain me in the mention 
 of my mother, clear Grace," said Violet, 
 caressingly, as she laid her head against 
 her friend's shoulder. 
 
 " You will not be likely to hear any- 
 thing harsh or disagreeable from my 
 mother about her early friend, dear 
 Violet," said Grace; ''indeed, I have 
 always heard that your mother was a 
 pure and beautiful angel, and that her 
 death was felt as a personal loss by 
 hundreds of poor people who loved her 
 dearly; and I have heard my mother say 
 that what comforted your poor father 
 most in the first shock of his terrible 
 bereavement was the real heart-felt 
 sympathy of the poor. Friends of all 
 ranks were ready with kind thoughts and
 
 220 Janet's choice. 
 
 words ; but nothing struck him as being 
 such a genuine tribute of love as a sort 
 of wail of anguish that went through the 
 little villages upon his estate, at the loss 
 of the ' dear lady,' as she was always 
 called. From what I have heard of her, 
 she must have been very sweet and 
 charming, quite a mother whose memory 
 any girl might well love to treasure up." 
 
 Violet looked up, much moved and at 
 the same time much pleased by Grace's 
 " homage " to her dead mother. 
 
 For a moment she could not steady 
 her voice sufficiently to be able to speak; 
 she felt as if a great stone were lifted off 
 her heart. A gush of joy and thankful- 
 ness seemed suddenly to brighten her 
 whole existence. 
 
 " Thank you, Grace, dear Grace, for 
 telHng me that, it is such a relief to me 
 to hear it, for they told me so little.
 
 Janet's choice. 221 
 
 Papa never could bear to speak of her, 
 and Aunt Katherine says it makes people 
 morbid to speak of the dead, and so 
 you see I knew so little. I always 
 thought of her as a sweet, patient in- 
 valid, lying- on her low couch in the 
 great south bay-window of her morning 
 room, where the honey-suckles and roses 
 peeped in on purpose to look at her, I 
 used to think. And so all these long 
 years have gone by, and my recollections 
 of her have been very sweet, but very 
 vaofue. I wanted somethino^ real and 
 life-like to give a reality to my memory 
 of her, and now you have told me about 
 the love the poor people had for her, so 
 I shall be able henceforth to picture her 
 to myself, as she must have looked, 
 visiting the poor, and going in and out 
 of their cottages." 
 
 " I am glad I mentioned it, then," said
 
 222 Janet's choice. 
 
 Grace. " I thought you knew what a 
 real sister of mercy she was amongst her 
 humbler neighbours. I remember hear- 
 ing that when her first child (your baby 
 brother, Violet, whom you never saw) 
 died, she did not sit down idly and 
 repine as so many mothers, naturally 
 enough you would say, do ; but she told 
 my mother that the purest and greatest 
 consolation she had in her sore trouble, the 
 most healing balm to her sad and aching 
 heart, was to minister to the sufferings 
 of ' Christ's poor,' as she said. ' What 
 a precious promise it was that we should 
 have them always with us !' she would 
 
 " Oh, Grace ! what a blessed life to 
 lead !" said .Violet, eagerly, her large dark 
 eyes dilating, and her cheek flushing 
 with a lovely damask tint in her excite- 
 ment.
 
 Janet's choice. 223 
 
 " It was, indeed, a blessed life," said 
 Grace, " and the great and lasting charm 
 of it was that, with all her fund of 
 activity and energy — qualities too real 
 and too precious to be repressed — she 
 added to them the grace of real humility, 
 and the knowledge that such a work as 
 she was doing, high and holy though it 
 was, was a means, and not an end." 
 
 ** But surely that sort of life brings 
 happiness in its train," said Violet. 
 
 " Yes, dear, certainly, when our own 
 happiness is not the object we seek in it. 
 God holds in his own hands the secret 
 springs of gladness, and He will pour 
 them out upon whomsoever He will." 
 
 '*I suppose she loved papa very much, 
 besides all the poor people ?" said Violet. 
 
 " Yes, I believe, shy and clinging as 
 she was, she loved her husband very 
 dearly; I have always heard that they
 
 224 Janet's choice. 
 
 were a most affectionate and devoted 
 couple," said Grace ; " but you must go 
 and get ready now, or you will keep the 
 rest of the party waiting. I have given 
 you something to think about to-day, 
 have I not, dear ? I hope your aunt 
 Katherine won't think I am going to make 
 you morbid." 
 
 " No fear of that," said Violet, and 
 with a sweet smile and loving kiss, she 
 ran off to dress.
 
 9.9. 
 
 'Z^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 " If we had but known, if we had but known, 
 While yet we stood together. 
 How a thoughtless look, a slighting tone, 
 Would sting and jar for ever !" 
 
 rpHE toilette of Lady Katherine 
 Anstruther was generally a some- 
 what lengthy business, not so much 
 from the care which she bestowed on 
 her appearance, as from the remarkable 
 fact that wherever she went, and what- 
 ever she was going to do, she always 
 contrived to mislay the very thing she 
 could not possibly do without. What 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 Janet's choice. 
 
 aoronies of fris^ht and discomfort her 
 hapless maid had to undergo in con- 
 sequence of this awkward habit, only 
 that long- suffering and much -enduring 
 woman knew. And if she had written 
 her plaint, it might indeed have been 
 a second edition of the " Sorrows of 
 Werther.'' 
 
 Lady Katherine's gloves had wings, her 
 spectacles legs ! Indeed, these articles 
 were always running or flying away at 
 the exact moment at which their owner 
 stood most in want of them. But their 
 disappearance was as nothing in com- 
 parison with the sort of moral palsy which 
 overtook her when she lost her keys. 
 Thoughtless people look upon keys in a 
 merely superficial manner; they know 
 that there is a certain amount of use and 
 security in keeping things " under lock 
 and key," as they express it; but on the
 
 Janet's choice. 227 
 
 whole they are inchned to think, if they 
 think at all, that the modern skeletons, 
 the most powerful, and the most irresist- 
 ible, are skeleton keys, by means of 
 which, no matter how carefully you lock 
 away your goods, any ordinarily astute 
 burglar would be able, if he wished, to 
 get at your most secret possessions. 
 
 But Lady Katherine Anstruther was 
 not one of these thoughtless people, nor 
 was she a philosopher (for on this subject 
 extremes meet). To her, her bunch of 
 keys was a real possession, and not only 
 that, but it was a means by which all her 
 other possessions were guarded. 
 
 She was a woman of a would-be 
 methodical turn. She was all keys, 
 ^ot to mention her housekeeping keys, 
 the keys of her dressing-case, of her 
 desk, &c., &c., she had several isolated 
 and outlying keys, belonging apparently 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 Janet's choice. 
 
 to notliicg, and opening no door or lock 
 that the ordinary looker-on could dis- 
 cover, and yet these keys were as precious 
 to her as three times the valuables they 
 secured would have been. 
 
 Deprived of her keys Lady Katharine 
 w^as an abject, miserable wretch, but 
 once in possession of the jingling bunch, 
 she was as placid, as contented a lady as 
 could be met with in the British Isles. 
 
 Now this particular morning, when the 
 Craigmorna expedition had been arranged, 
 poor Lady Katherine was keyless, and 
 therefore utterly and entirely miserable. 
 
 She was like a lioness bereft of her 
 cubs who was gagged by conventionalism, 
 and so denied the alleviation of a roar. 
 
 *' I cannot go out until I have found 
 them, Goodwin ?" said Lady Katherine to 
 her maid, as she seated herself on the sofa 
 in her room, with a sort of flop, to
 
 Janet's choice. 229 
 
 show her determination to sit there till 
 the missing ke3^s turned up. 
 
 " Is jour ladyship quite sure that your 
 ladyship h^s searched your pockets ?" sug- 
 gested Goodwin for about the tenth time. 
 
 " Quite sure, Goodwin, of course I have," 
 said Lady Katherine querulously — she was 
 always querulous when her keys had 
 gone astray. 
 
 Goodwin had nothing else to suggest. 
 She had gone through the same scene 
 very often during the ten years she had 
 resided with Lady Katherine, and ought, 
 by rights, to have become inured to it 
 by long practice ; but poor Goodwin was 
 far too sensitive to be lady's maid to a 
 forgetful person like Lady Katherine. 
 She suffered a great deal more than her 
 mistress did on these trying occasions, 
 because, in addition to the fuss and ex- 
 citement of the hunt, there was the
 
 230 Janet's choice. 
 
 additional dread lest her mistress should 
 imagine that she had abstracted the keys 
 for some private reasons of her own. Not 
 that Lady Katherine ever really thought 
 anything of the kind for one single 
 moment. 
 
 Goodwin was a faithful servant, and* 
 her mistress knew her worth well 
 enough. She knew that her maid was 
 really a friend in every sense of , the word. 
 She knew that it was the fashion to call 
 servants selfish and mercenary, and to 
 make out that they have all the 
 faults common to humanity, and that in 
 excess of everyone else ; but Lady 
 Katherine was superior to these vulgar 
 superstitions, and knew too well the value 
 of a faithful servant to believe in the 
 generalities of domestic terrorism she so 
 constantly heard repeated. 
 
 " Shall I call the young ladies, and ask
 
 Janet's choice. 281 
 
 them to help to remember what you have 
 done with your keys ?" suggested Good- 
 win at last in a timid manner. 
 
 So the young ladies were called, and 
 came grumbling. 
 
 Marion was too philosophical to look 
 for anything. '' If 'twas lost 'twas lost, and 
 there was an end on't/' was her theory. 
 And Helen, with more good-nature went 
 throuofh the farce of s^lancino^ round the 
 room in search of the missing articles ; 
 but she was blundering and stupid, and 
 no new light was thrown on the mystery 
 by her suggestions. 
 
 In the midst of the dire confusion 
 Violet passed the open door of her aunt's 
 room, and was immediately called upon 
 to help in the search. 
 
 ''Why, Aunt Katherine, I saw you 
 put a big bunch of keys in your work- 
 bag, in among the wool for your
 
 232 Janet's choice. 
 
 knitting," said she. " Shall I run down 
 to the drawing-room and see if they are 
 there?" 
 
 No sooner said than done ; Violet flew 
 down the oak staircase with a light and 
 airy step, that spoke well for the perfect 
 recovery of her sprained ankle, and, 
 catching the work-bag from under the very 
 eyes of the astonished Mr. Poyns (who 
 was hovering about in hopes of having a 
 tete-a-tete with Petronel), carried off her 
 prize in triumph. 
 
 There was a light in Violet's dark 
 eyes, a sort of happy softness in her ex- 
 pression, consequent on her conversation 
 with Grace, and on what she had heard 
 about her dead mother, which was very 
 lovely in its way. 
 
 Major Armstrong and Sir Archibald 
 Morton were crossing the hall as she 
 ran by them on her way upstairs.
 
 Janet's choice. 233 
 
 '' What a very sweet little creature 
 that is !" said Major Armstrong. 
 
 " So my sister Grace says/' said 
 Archie, " and as you two are about 
 the best judges of character here, I have 
 no doubt there is something in her, 
 though she is so shy, it is difficult to get 
 beyond ' Yes ' and ' No ' with her in con- 
 versation." 
 
 " She has come out wonderfully in the 
 last few days," said Major Armstrong, 
 " I think that must be your sister's 
 doing." 
 
 " Grace likes her very much" said 
 Archie, " and I dare say, when she has 
 bad a couple of seasons in town, and 
 has lost her shyness, she will be as 
 pleasant as other girls ; they are all alike 
 I think, London ones I mean." 
 
 *' The saints forefend !" said Major 
 Armstrong, "that that sweet Violet
 
 234 Janet's choice. 
 
 should ever become one of those regular 
 London young ladies, who are all alike, 
 as you say." 
 
 " How bitter you are against the tribe !" 
 said Archie, rather amused. 
 
 *' It is just because they are a tribe. 
 Juggernaut's car, that we were talking 
 of this morning, has not more victims than 
 the insane fashion of the present day has. 
 Everything is crushed down to a dead 
 level, and, instead of trying to rise, 
 morally or mentally, girls think it the 
 thing to be as noisy, and fast, and frivo- 
 lous as their neighbours," said Major 
 Armstrong. 
 
 " I don't see many signs at present of 
 Lady Violet Ogilvie's becoming either 
 noisy, fast, or frivolous," said Archie, 
 as he moved off carelessly towards the 
 stables to make his arrangements for 
 the drive.
 
 Janet's choice. 235 
 
 Major Armstrong remained for some 
 time in silent tbouglit. 
 
 He was interested in the young girl 
 of whom he had been speaking. He 
 could see at a glance that Lady Violet 
 was too good for the people she was 
 thrown amongst. There was a tinge of 
 sadness about her which made her all 
 the more interesting, but he pleased him- 
 self with fancying how that face would 
 hght up if real, true lasting happiness 
 came to her. He tried to fancy her bright, 
 gay and sunny, and almost smiled 
 to himself as the fancy grew upon 
 him. 
 
 " What an old, maundering idiot I 
 am getting," he said inwardly, as he 
 caught himself positively glowing with 
 pleasure at the vision which his fancy 
 had conjured up. 
 
 It was not that he was falling in love
 
 236 Janet's choice, 
 
 witli her. No, he had done with the 
 tender passion, he should never feel that 
 again for any woman ; but he saw in 
 Violet a creature, refined and cultivated 
 enough to suit even his fastidious taste, 
 and withal, gentle, simple, and pure, and 
 as yet uncorrupted by contact with the 
 world. 
 
 She was much more like his ideal really, 
 than his ideal had ever been, but he did 
 not know that. He believed that the 
 woman who had used him so cruelly had 
 once been as pure and simple-minded as 
 Lady Violet Ogilvie was now. It was 
 a delusion of his, but he clung to it, in 
 spite of all the proofs he had received to 
 the contrary. 
 
 There is a certain imao^e which everv 
 man sets up in his heart, at one time or 
 other in the course of his life. 
 
 The image often falls and is broken,
 
 Janet's choice. 237 
 
 bat the man still believes that it was once 
 what it appeared to be. 
 
 He clings to the idea that outward cir- 
 cumstances alone have caused the change, 
 and does not beHeve that there could have 
 been a flaw in the original materiah 
 
 So it was with Major Armstrong, and 
 so it is with many another victim of 
 woman's wiles. He blamed the world at 
 large for the fault of one individual ! 
 
 Yet even in the early days, during 
 which he could have shed his heart's 
 blood to vindicate the truth and honour 
 of his ideal, even in those days she was 
 playing with him, as a cat plays with a 
 mouse ; but, fascinated by her beauty, 
 and lulled into fancied security by the 
 soft touch of les ixittes de velours, he 
 heeded not his danger. 
 
 Even in those days, however, a sudden, 
 sharp speech of hers, a thoughtless allu-
 
 238 Janet's choice. 
 
 sion to things wbicli his ideal ought to 
 have held in reverence, would startle him. 
 
 She little knew how her slighting tone 
 had often hurt him ! she little thought or 
 cared what power her words and deeds 
 had to sting, and to jar and rankle for ever 
 in his breast ! 
 
 Major Armstrong saw with regret how 
 infatuated Mr. Poyns was becoming about 
 Petronel. 
 
 " She is just another of the dangerous 
 ones," he thought ; ^' her brother talks 
 of their being all alike, but if he only had 
 the sense to look at his own two sisters, 
 he would see what a wide difference there 
 is between them in every way. 
 
 " Ah ! this heavy-heeled nineteenth cen- 
 tury has much to answer for, but it has 
 not as yet trodden down this family into 
 dull uniformity, at all events !" 
 
 " What are you looking so solemn
 
 Janet's choice. 239 
 
 about, Armstrong?" said Captain Burns, 
 emerging at that moment from the 
 biUiard-room. 
 
 " I was thinking of this hurly-burly, 
 jostling, bustling, ship-wrecking world in 
 which we live," said Major Armstrong. 
 
 *' Halloa ! you are getting cynical ! we 
 shall have Diogenes putting an advertise- 
 ment in the Times ' Wanted, a Tub !' 
 soon," said Captain Burns. 
 
 '' I am afraid by retiring into my tub, 
 I should only shirk the evil, and not 
 remedy it," said Major Armstrong. 
 
 " Pooh ! my dear fellow," said Captain 
 Burns, '* the world is a jolly place enough 
 if you only let it alone ; one man can no 
 more stem the stream than Dame Parting- 
 ton with her mop could check the tide of 
 the Atlantic ! Depend upon it, ' Live and 
 let live ' is the only motto to go by now- 
 a-days. Let us make the best of things.
 
 240 Janet's choice. 
 
 and enjoy the good, and never mind the 
 evil. We can't annihilate it, so we had 
 better ignore it." 
 
 Captain Burns spoke honestly from his 
 own conviction, and I have no doubt his 
 opinions would have been endorsed by 
 many had he spoken to a multitude, 
 instead of to one solitary individual. 
 
 But, to the one solitary individual to 
 whom he did speak, they carried no con- 
 viction whatsoever, they simply made 
 confusion worse confounded ; for they 
 showed him that public opinion was in 
 favour of chaos being left chaotic, rather 
 than that the world should be troubled 
 by attempts to evolve order out of it. 
 
 Major Armstrong saw in a moment that, 
 to the mind of such a man as Captain 
 Burns, his own pet theories as to the 
 Divinity of Humanity, and the God-like 
 type which it was a sin and a shame to
 
 Janet's choice. 241 
 
 allo\Y to crumble in the dust of worldli- 
 iiess, would be at least Greek ; so he was 
 wise enough to hold his peace, and not 
 air his Quixotic ideas on such an unsyni- 
 pathising auditor. 
 
 " What time are we to start ?" he 
 asked, presently, 
 
 " Very soon, I believe," said Captain 
 Burns; ''at least, I fancy our host has 
 gone to look after his team. Shall we 
 go to the stable-yard and see what he is 
 about ?" 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 242 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
 B-ough-hew them as we may." 
 
 ClIR Archibald Morton's mind was 
 sorely exercised when he heard 
 of Andrew Macpherson's illness. 
 
 He pictured to himself the dire dis- 
 tress and confusion there must be in 
 the house, now that the head of the 
 family was so suddenly laid on a bed 
 of sickness. 
 
 He longed to send a note to Janet,
 
 Janet's choice. 2i3 
 
 even if lie could not go himself to see 
 her. 
 
 He longed to write to her, to tell 
 her how sincerely he sympathised with 
 her, and how glad he would be to be 
 of use to the family. But happily for 
 Janet, he had the good taste to see 
 that he must be very careful and cir- 
 cumspect in his conduct, if he wished 
 to please her. 
 
 Notes and attentions from the laird to 
 a farmer's daughter would not pass un- 
 noticed in that little village, where the 
 doings of the gentry at the house 
 formed the most interesting topics of 
 conversation. To attract attention to 
 Janet by his behaviour regarding her, 
 and then for nothing to come of it, 
 would be simply to compromise her 
 character in the eyes of the village 
 gossips, who would never believe, even 
 
 R 2
 
 244 
 
 if they were told, that Janet bad had 
 tlie audacity, or the folly, to refuse the 
 Laird. 
 
 It was when he got to the stables, 
 after leaving Major Armstrong in the 
 hall, that he was met by the coachman 
 with the intelligence that Farmer Mac- 
 pherson had had a fit. 
 
 Donald Inverarity happened to be 
 coming across the path with a brace 
 of young pointers he had been training, 
 and he paused also on hearing the 
 news. 
 
 " I am very sorry indeed !" said the 
 laird, " poor fellow, he was all right 
 yesterday when I was speaking to him." 
 Then the remembrance of what had 
 happened since the conversation came 
 over Sir Archibald, and putting two 
 and two together with the clearness of 
 one whose senses are quickened by love.
 
 Janet's chojce. 245 
 
 lie arrived at the conviction that the 
 scene he had pictured so often, of 
 Janet's confession as to her refusal, 
 must have brought on, or at all 
 events accelerated, the farmer's illness. 
 He tried hard to hide his agitation from 
 the group of men by whom he was 
 surrounded, as he rightly guessed that 
 his visits to the farm had not passed 
 unnoticed. 
 
 " Here, my man !" he said, turning to 
 Donald Inverarity. " I shall be much 
 obliged if you will call at the farm on 
 your way home to your dinner, and 
 tell Mrs. Macpherson how sorry I am 
 for what has happened." 
 
 "Very good, Sir!" said Donald, raising 
 his hand to his cap with a military 
 salute. 
 
 Sir Archibald moved away, little think- 
 ioor that with his own hands he was
 
 246 Janet's choice. 
 
 lielping Fate to mould Lis own destiny 
 and that by sending Donald Inverarity, 
 his under-keeper, to the farm, he was 
 more than ever widening the gulf 
 which yawned between him and Janet 
 Macpherson. We are but tools in the 
 hands of Destiny, we know not, and we 
 do not care to know, that we are 
 merely puppets, doing our appointed 
 work on the stage, instead of being the 
 architects of our own happiness, as we 
 fondly imagine it is possible for us to 
 be. 
 
 Lady Katherine having found her keys 
 — or rather Lady Yiolet Ogilvie having 
 found them for her — was now once more 
 in a state of placid content. The party 
 assembled at the door, and after seeing 
 the elders drive off in Colonel Anstruther's 
 carriage (for Lady Morton would not 
 trust herself behind a four-in-hand, even
 
 Janet's choice. 247 
 
 wheu her beloved son held the reins) the 
 juniors settled themselves in the break, 
 Violet nestling as near to Grace as she 
 possibly could, and Petronel, looking 
 radiantly lovely, bewitching the heart of 
 her silent lover more than ever. 
 
 Major Armstrong sat on the box be- 
 side Sir Archibald Morton, and finding 
 him indisposed for conversation, resigned 
 himself, not unwillingly, to his cigar 
 and his meditations. 
 
 Mrs. Becket was in her glory, as 
 chaperon general to the young people. 
 She was hardly a comfortable neighbour 
 in a carriage, for she was never still for 
 one instant. She fidgeted incessantly. 
 Sometimes the sun was so hot she really 
 must take off her shawl ; the next 
 moment the dust was so dreadful that 
 her new dress would be spoilt, so she 
 must trouble some one to find her dust-
 
 248 Janet's choice. 
 
 cloak for her, vvliicli was somewhere in tlie 
 carriage, she was certain, but she could 
 not quite tell where. This occasioned a 
 general stir and rummage, but no dust- 
 cloak was to be seen, and at last it was 
 found that the owner of the missing 
 article was sitting upon it. 
 
 Then her parasol ! Never was there a 
 parasol in this world which had so many 
 points, and everyone of the points seemed 
 to delight in sticking into Mr. Poyns. 
 
 But Mr. Poyns had Petronel on his 
 other side, so in his delight at that 
 blissful position, he minded the odious 
 parasol far less than he would have done 
 under other circumstances. A soft rust- 
 ling breeze blew over the hills as the 
 four horses bowled the carriage along at 
 a merry pace. 
 
 Archie, who had been forlorn and 
 dispirited enough when they started,
 
 Janet's choice. 249 
 
 revived uDder the influence of the genial 
 weather and a true Enghshman's dehght 
 in liis handsome, thorough-bred horses. 
 
 '' What a jolly team it is ?" said Major 
 Armstrong. 
 
 " Yes, they go capitally together," said 
 Archie. 
 
 '* I suppose your mother prefers two 
 sober old horses, like Colonel Anstru- 
 ther's, to this fresh young team ?" said 
 Major Armstrong, as they passed the 
 barouche, with its respectable pair of 
 elderly grey steeds. 
 
 " Yes," said Archie, '* my poor mother 
 has rather a horror of horses altogether ; 
 she thinks them a dangerous race of 
 animals. I was driving tandem about a 
 month ago, and I wanted to take her 
 with me in the mail-phaeton ; so Petronel 
 suggested that we should not say a word 
 about the leader, but trust to her being
 
 250 Janet's chojce. 
 
 too near-sighted to see beyond the 
 ■wheeler's ears." 
 
 " She is not so blind as all that, 
 surely," said Major Armstrong. 
 
 " Well, I was going to tell you," said 
 Archie, " it's the best joke going. She 
 got up all right, and off we started — the 
 horses were first-rate ; I had exercised 
 them well beforehand, and all went 
 favourably for about two miles. Gradually 
 I saw my mother straining her eyes, and 
 fumbling for her eye-glass ; but fortu- 
 nately she had left that at home. At last 
 she said, * Archie, dear, do you know 
 that there is a loose horse trotting: alonof 
 in front of our carriage ; I can't make 
 out what makes it stick so closely to us, 
 and I am so afraid it will make your horse 
 frisky.' So then of course I had to ex- 
 plain how matters were." 
 
 " What a shame !" said Major Arm-
 
 Janet's choice. 251 
 
 strong. " What an undutiful boy jou 
 are, Master Archie, no wonder Lady 
 Morton is afraid to trust herself with 
 you." 
 
 " It was a shame, certainly," said 
 Archie ; '* but even now I can't think of 
 the whole scene without laug^hinof." 
 
 Major Armstrong laughed too, much 
 tickled by the story, and picturing to 
 himself the alarm which the horse, trotting 
 along in front of the carriage, must have 
 caused Lady Morton for some moments 
 before she found courage to speak of 
 it. 
 
 '' What are you two so merry about 
 up there ?" said Petrouel, who never 
 liked to be left out of any joke. 
 
 " Don't speak to the man at the helm, 
 Petronel, or we shall all be shipwrecked," 
 said Mrs. Becket, as with a sudden 
 lunge she stuck a point of her parasol
 
 252 Janet's choice. 
 
 into Mr. Poyns' cheek, within a very 
 short distance of his eye. 
 
 ** I should think you wished that our 
 chaperon's attentions to you were not 
 quite so ijolnted,'" said Petronel, with such 
 a sweet smile, and in so low a whisper 
 that Mr. Poyns felt he would willingly 
 have been pierced all over with two- 
 pronged forks, or have become a St. 
 Sebastian to receive such sweet en- 
 couragement. 
 
 *' She has no more heart than the 
 Venus de' Medici," said Major Armstrong • 
 to himself, as turning round for a moment, 
 he took in at a single glance the whole 
 situation. '' She has no more heart than 
 a statue, and she is trying to land her fish 
 at last after having hooked him so long 
 ago. Well ! he is worthy of a better fate, 
 though I suppose he would not thank me 
 for telling him I thought so."
 
 Janet's CHOTr-R. 25o 
 
 It was a lovely da}^ and tlie dasbini^ 
 equipage, with its four spirited horses, 
 attracted a good deal of attention in all 
 the country villages they passed through. 
 
 It was hay-making time, and the fields 
 were full of busy workers. The sounds of 
 their voices, the singing of the birds, and 
 the musical rhythm of the mower's scythes, 
 all blended into a sort of pastoral sym- 
 phony of melodious country sounds. 
 
 Grace enjoyed the whole scene im- 
 mensely, and with her artist eye she was 
 ever discovering fresh beauties in all 
 around. 
 
 Infinitely varied, yet infinitely beauti- 
 ful were the masses of gleaming clouds 
 that chased each other lightly over the 
 hill-tops, changing as they went in form 
 and ever increasing in loveliness. 
 
 To Grace " a thing of beauty" was " a 
 joy for ever," and nature's loveliness had
 
 254 Janet's choice. 
 
 the power of thrilling her with real hap- 
 piness. 
 
 But just at present there was some- 
 thing which prevented her from being 
 as happy as she otherwise would have 
 been — there was an anxious feeling in 
 her heart, which would not be kept down, 
 and care seemed somehow brooding in 
 the distance, even behind the lovely 
 scenes which were unfolding minute after 
 minute before her eyes. 
 
 They were entering the border land, 
 and, at each turn in the road new 
 beauties showed themselves, and she was 
 more and more reminded of scenes in 
 poetry and romance in which she had 
 revelled as a child. 
 
 In that tall tower behind the hill, had 
 once lived a celebrated outlaw who had 
 made midnight raids on his neighbours' 
 homesteads, and driven off many head
 
 Janet's choice. 2i)6 
 
 of cattle, while their owners slept, up that 
 steep path- way. 
 
 How many thrilling and exciting tales 
 have been told of the border-land, tales 
 that make one shudder with horror as 
 they speak of bloodshed, rapine, and 
 murder, but which at the same time are 
 tinged with a sufficient spice of romance 
 to make them interesting. 
 
 Now, as Grace sat quietly in her corner 
 of the break, and watched the smiling 
 happy homesteads, and the meadows 
 where the cattle grazed peacefully, with- 
 out fear of being driven away in the dark 
 hours of the night; she thought of the 
 difference between these degenerate days 
 and what are called ' the good old times,' 
 and (alas for lovers of antiquity !) she 
 came to the conclusion that the world 
 had not gone down hill so very rapidly 
 after all.
 
 256 jankt's ciioirK. 
 
 Violet was wonderfully happy that 
 day ; not happy in the merry boisterous 
 way that Helen Anstruther or Mrs. 
 Becket were, not self-complacent and 
 self-satisfied as Petrouel Morton was ; but 
 happy in her own quiet thoughts, and 
 in the new insight she had that day been 
 given of her dear mother's character. 
 
 Violet was of a reflective turn of 
 mind, and with very little outward 
 humming or buzzing she laid up a 
 large stock of honey in her mind, over 
 which she could reflect and meditate 
 whenever she wished. There are some 
 people whose thoughts (shall I say 
 minds ?) are so occupied with little ex- 
 ternal events, that they have no time 
 or inclination for meditating on the 
 treasures culled in quiet moments, and 
 hoarded up to be pondered over in 
 their hearts.
 
 Janet's choice. 257 
 
 The drive through the clear air of 
 the hill-side was extremely exhilarating. 
 The scenery was beautiful, and at every 
 turn in the winding road it became more 
 and more picturesque. 
 
 At every step were presented admirable 
 subjects for a painter, and on all sides 
 were rocks, heather-clad hills, and deso- 
 late ruins, enough to have delighted the 
 heart of many a Royal Academician ; but 
 its beauties were little known, for artists 
 are a little like tourists, and tourists 
 are very like sheep who follow one 
 another blindly on a beaten track. 
 
 Then, by the wayside there were little 
 shady nooks, so shady, so mossy, so com- 
 fortably rural, that it was almost impos, 
 sible not to cry '' halt " to the driver, 
 and to get out to explore. 
 
 The birch and rowan trees hung grace- 
 fully over the river, and the tall Scotch 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 Janet's chotoe. 
 
 firs looked dark and massive in their 
 solemn groups above. 
 
 By degrees the valley . narrowed, the 
 rocks seemed to approach nearer, as if 
 they wished to catch and crash all 
 travellers who were venturous enough to 
 wish to pass between them. 
 
 There was plenty of room, however, 
 for the break, and passing through this 
 defile, the merry party found themselves 
 in a lovely glen, sheltered by hills and 
 shaded by trees. 
 
 " This is the place — stand still, my 
 steeds," said Archie, as he brought his 
 handsome team to an anchor in front of a 
 village-inn. 
 
 '' Craigmorna is private property," ex- 
 plained Petronel, '* so we must get out 
 here and leave the carriages at the inn, 
 and then walk by the pathway through 
 the woods to the fall."
 
 jaxet's choice. 259 
 
 They accordingly descended from the 
 break, with many expressions of thanks 
 to Sir Archibald for his capital driving. 
 
 As the large party, headed by Petronel, 
 tiled off through the path across the 
 wood, Archie whispered to Grace to stay 
 behind the others, and wait for him, as 
 he was going to help the groom and the 
 hostler to put away the horses. 
 
 Grace accordingly pulled out her sketch- 
 book, and seating herself on a heap of 
 stones, began taking a pencil-sketch of 
 the gorge through which they had just 
 come. 
 
 She was glad of the excuse this gave 
 her, as she was more and more con- 
 vinced that her brother had something on 
 his mind which he was anxious to tell her 
 about. 
 
 What that something was she had not 
 the most remote idea, but she longed to 
 
 s 2
 
 260 Janet's choice. 
 
 be able to help him in some way or 
 another, and to chase away the clouds 
 that now hung so often over his face.
 
 261 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 " A life of self-renouncing love 
 Is a life of liberty." 
 
 '^ "PkEAR ARCHIE! what is it?" said 
 Grace, when the horses were duly 
 stabled, and the groom had gone down 
 to the cottage with the luncheon-hamper. 
 
 Archie seated himself beside his sister, 
 and looked at her for a moment in silence. 
 
 He was longing to let her into his 
 entire confidence, and yet the subject 
 was one which he hesitated extremely to 
 broach.
 
 262 Janet's choice. 
 
 " Come, dear old boy," said Grace, 
 caressingly, '' I am sure there is some- 
 thing amiss with you, and I think I may 
 try to guess what it is ; may I not ?" 
 
 " You may try to guess if you like, 
 Brownie, but you won't succeed, because 
 you don't know her." 
 
 " Her /" said Grace, bewildered. She 
 had long suspected that Archie must be 
 in love, but she could not make out at 
 all who the mysterious object of his affec- 
 tion could be. He had been heart-whole 
 when he came to Lashiels, she firmly 
 believed, and, unless he had suddenly 
 fallen in love with one of the Miss 
 Anstruthers, she could not make out who 
 the lady could possibly be. 
 
 She knew it was not Lady Violet, as 
 in the first place he looked upon her as a 
 child, and, in the second place, he hardly 
 ever spoke to her or looked at her.
 
 Janet's choice. 263 
 
 '' Tell me, Arcliie, which is it, Helen 
 or Marion ? I know it must be one of 
 them," she said, feeling at the same time 
 amazed that he should care for either 
 of them. '' But there is no ac- 
 counting for tastes in these things," she 
 moralized. 
 
 '' Grace ! what can you mean ? Do you 
 mean to say you believe that I am in love 
 with one of those women, ' Art ' and 
 ' Science,' as they call them. No, indeed. 
 My love is as beautiful as they are ugly, as 
 graceful as they are clumsy, as charming 
 as they are disagreeable." 
 
 " My dear, dear brother ! But who 
 is she ? and where is she to be found ? 
 I am longing to see her, and to tell 
 her how I shall love her for your sake. 
 But I can't understand, if she is so 
 beautiful and charming as you say, 
 why you should look so sad," said Grace.
 
 264 Janet's choice. 
 
 " She is a great deal more beautiful 
 and more charming, Gracie, than I can 
 say ; but I may well look sad, for she 
 has refused me." 
 
 ** Poor Archie!" said Grace, "I am 
 so very sorry for you ; I knew that 
 something was wrong, but I could not 
 make out what it could be. But now do 
 tell me who she is and where you met 
 her." 
 
 '' That is just the point. Brownie, that 
 I am afraid of coming to," said Archie. 
 '' I know you will be awfully surprised 
 and horrified, and all that, when you 
 hear that I have been refused by the 
 daughter of one of my own tenant- 
 farmers." 
 
 '' Archie !" said Grace, too amazed to 
 add more. 
 
 " Yes, you will be shocked I am 
 sure, but you must not judge me harshly 
 till I have told you all. "
 
 Janet's choice. 265 
 
 Encouraged by Grace's sympatliising 
 look (she could not speak to him), 
 Archie began the story at the beginning, 
 from the day on which he had fallen 
 asleep by the river side, and when on 
 waking he had first seen Janet Mac- 
 pherson, to the present time. '' She is 
 so good, so beautiful, so true, Grace. I 
 know all you would say about unequal 
 marriages and all that, I have gone over 
 and over that subject in all its bearings ; 
 but I am more than ever convinced that, 
 except in actual birth and position, she 
 is far, far above me ! She is an angel — 
 but there it is no good to think about 
 her, she won't have me and there is 
 an end of it. At least I should be wise 
 if I could believe so, but I cannot help 
 hoping she may yet change her mind." 
 
 Grace felt herself to be in a very 
 difl&cult position. Here was Archie con-
 
 266 jaket's choice. 
 
 fading to her his love-affair, and evidently 
 wishing and expecting her to take his 
 view of the case ; but at the same time, 
 (not being in love herself) she was sane 
 enough to see what an utter bewilder- 
 ment and turmoil such an engagement 
 would make in the family should Janet 
 Macpherson change her mind and consent 
 to marry the laird. 
 
 Grace was silent for some moments, 
 for in reality she was sorely puzzled, and 
 knew not what to say. At last however 
 Archie himself gave her a loop-hole of 
 escape — a gleam of hope in the dark 
 chaos. 
 
 '' I can't help thinking," he said, '' that 
 I was too late in the field ; I can't help 
 fearing that she has given her heart 
 already to some luckier fellow than I am, 
 in which case I know there is no cliance 
 for me ; for Janet is not a girl to
 
 Janet's choice. 267 
 
 clianofe. She is so true, and so stead- 
 fast ! Oh, Grace ! if you did but know 
 her !" 
 
 Then followed a whole lover's rhapsody, 
 to which Grace listened quietly, but 
 sorrowfully, as she saw how much moved 
 her darling brother was, and what a 
 burning, fiery trial of real affliction this 
 was through which he was now passing. 
 
 Nothing is more wonderful, and yet 
 nothing is more natural than the regular 
 swing of Time's pendulum, which goes 
 on rocking itself to and fro, swinging 
 through space and time with a monotony 
 perfectly maddening to the tortured 
 spirit. 
 
 The inevitable must be, and it is futile 
 to attempt to struggle with or avert fate. 
 It is inflexible, we cannot influence it. 
 
 It was very evident to Grace that 
 Archie was undergoing an awful tempta-
 
 268 Janet's choice. 
 
 tion to grapple with his fate, to at- 
 tempt to gain his end, in spite of 
 dangers and difficulties in his present 
 course, and a dim perspective of future 
 troubles in the distance. 
 
 ''I should think there must be some 
 one else to whom she is attached," 
 Archie," said Grace, '^ that seems to 
 me the most probable solution of the 
 mystery of her having refused you. 
 Girls in her position in general would 
 have jumped at such an offer." 
 
 "Now, Grace, I did not expect you 
 to say that," said Archie, " that is such 
 a common idea — as if Janet would jump 
 at an offer !" 
 
 And Archie looked so really vexed 
 and out of sorts, that Grace became 
 quite penitent and apologetic in an 
 iustant. 
 
 " My dear Archie, you know I
 
 Janet's choice. 269 
 
 did not mean anything disparaging 
 to her!" 
 
 *' I forgot you did not know her, 
 Brownie," said Archie, mollified in an 
 instant by the look in his favourite sister's 
 eyes. " I forgot you did not know 
 her, and thought you were going to be 
 like the rest of the world, * eminently 
 practical.' " 
 
 '' But let us talk this matter over a 
 little more," said Grace, " you know I 
 don't want at all to be ' eminently 
 practical,' as you call it, but I want 
 fully to understand from you what 
 you really mean to do on the subject, 
 and then I shall be the better able 
 to help you." 
 
 " Dear Brownie, you have helped me 
 already with your sympathy, I am 
 afraid there is nothing else for you 
 to do," said he.
 
 270 Janet's choice. 
 
 '* Then you really mean to be good 
 and give np all farther ideas of press- 
 ing the point," said Grace. 
 
 " It will be making a virtue of 
 necessity, if you call that being good," he 
 said. " If there was the slightest ghost of 
 a chance of making her change her mind, 
 I would go in for it regularly, and posi- 
 tively besiege her till she consented ; but 
 I can read her character too well for 
 that, she means what she says, and 
 what she says is my death-blow." 
 
 Grace could hardly help smiling at 
 this tragical finale of her brother's speech, 
 but she valued too much the privilege 
 of his confidence to peril her position 
 of confidante by any such blunder. 
 
 She therefore merely said very quietly. 
 
 " I have heard, Archie, that ' a woman's 
 nay is but a stepping-stone to a woman's 
 yea.' "
 
 Janet's choice. 271 
 
 Archie shook his head sadly. " Not 
 with her, Grace, I am afraid, you torture 
 me with the idea, but I am sure it 
 is hopeless." 
 
 Grace was really immensely relieved 
 to see that he was fully convinced that 
 Janet's * nay ' had really meant ' nay,' 
 and was not a stepping-stone to her 
 ' yea.' She would have grieved terribly 
 if her darling brother had contracted 
 such an unsuitable marriage, but she 
 was truly thankful that the task of dis- 
 suading him from it did not fall to 
 her lot. 
 
 It is so easy to see for others which 
 is the wrong and which is the right, 
 and in surveying the maps of our 
 neighbours' lives, the right-hand path 
 branches off so decidedly from the left, 
 that the ordinary observer gives the 
 traveller no credit when he chooses the
 
 272 Janet's choice. 
 
 right way; but Grace was no ordinary 
 observer : she knew how differently ob- 
 jects and facts look according to the 
 point of view from which they are 
 seen — and she did give Archie infinite 
 credit for his honourable condnct. 
 
 She walked along by his side in 
 silence for some moments, then she 
 said : '* I am glad we are going away 
 next week, it will be painful for you 
 here now." 
 
 "Yes, I long to be off, and yet I 
 feel as if I must stay here always," 
 said Archie. He looked so dejected 
 and sad, that Grace felt that her first 
 duty was to try to rouse him a 
 little. 
 
 " We are on a day's pleasuring, re- 
 member, Archie," she said, "and you 
 must try to cheer up a little ; won't 
 you for my sake ? You know it is not
 
 Janet's choice. 273 
 
 very often that I go to a picnic with 
 you." 
 
 Archie in the impulse of the moment 
 stooped down over her and kissed her, 
 he took her two hands in his and 
 squeezed them so fervently that she 
 almost cried out with pain. 
 
 But Grace was a brave little woman, 
 and she bore the squeeze without flinch- 
 ing, and rather enjoyed it than other- 
 wise, as it showed her that her brother 
 was really admitting her into his inner 
 confidences. 
 
 And so she listened to his rhapsodies, 
 as he poured out in lover-like superlatives 
 the praises of Janet which he could not 
 restrain, even though she had refused 
 him. Xo being on earth, according to 
 him, could ever be sweeter than Janet 
 Macpherson, more noble, more excellent, 
 more absolutely entitled to that universal 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 Janet's choice. 
 
 I'espect and admiration which seemed to 
 be hers by right. 
 
 Nature had given to the simple village 
 girl the dignity of high station, and 
 had also endowed her with a far higher 
 gift, a pure and innocent heart, to 
 which worldliness and self-seeking were 
 unknown. Grace thought, as she gazed 
 at her brother, that there must be 
 something peculiar in this young woman 
 of low decree who could refuse such 
 a fine handsome man as her brother 
 was. 
 
 '' I wonder who her lover is ?" she said, 
 " I am sure, from what you say, she must 
 be very much in love with him, Archie !" 
 
 "Yes, I am afraid so," said Archie, 
 mournfully. 
 
 Archie was certainly as fine a looking 
 young fellow as you could see anywhere. 
 
 The sorrow which weiofhed on his
 
 Janet's choice. 
 
 heart bad not yet wrinkled liis brow, but 
 it had added to his expression, and it had 
 given liim a look of greater strength and 
 purpose than his face had worn in the 
 careless days of his lazy prosperity. 
 
 His tall figure, as he walked beside his 
 little sister, was perfect in its symmetry 
 of strength. 
 
 His brigfht ofolden hair clustered round 
 his forehead, and closely though it was 
 cut, still continued to curl at the back of 
 his head. 
 
 There was a thorough-bred air about 
 him, which stamped him at once with the 
 hall-mark of true gentility. But energy 
 without hope is impossible, and it was 
 only the knowledge of Grace's thorough 
 and affectionate sympathy, which pre- 
 vented the laird from relapsing into 
 apathy. 
 
 Grace saw and felt this fully, so she 
 
 T 2
 
 276 Janet's choice. 
 
 exerted herself all the more, drawing out 
 the latent thorns which were pricking 
 and festering, and then like a ministering 
 angel, healing the wound with gentle, 
 soothing touch. 
 
 By the time they had joined the others, 
 she had soothed him considerably, and 
 his face, though still pale, had lost all 
 traces of agitation. 
 
 Grace's heart was very full. She 
 grieved ov^er this trial which had come 
 to her brother — grieved deeply for him — 
 though at the same time she was thank- 
 ful to Janet for the course she had 
 taken. 
 
 She turned away her eyes resolutely 
 from seeing, even in imagination, what 
 the result of such an unsuitable marriage 
 w^ould have been ; she could not bear to 
 face the vision of her mother's agony, and 
 of the unhappy division which w^ould have
 
 Janet's ciiokie. 
 
 rent asunder the strong cord of family 
 love \Yhich now bound them together. 
 
 Xo — thank God, they were spared 
 that ! and a bright upspringiog happi- 
 ness suffused her heart at that thought. 
 
 '^ One more word, Archie," she said, 
 " before we join the others ; our mother 
 need not know this." 
 
 " No ; that was just what I wanted to 
 say to you, Brownie," he replied, ''let 
 the subject rest now between our two 
 selves." 
 
 " It will be much better so," she an- 
 swered, and he was satisfied. 
 
 He had done well and wisely, in con- 
 fiding his troubles to Grace. She was so 
 sensible and high-minded, as well as so 
 loving and true, that he felt sure she 
 was not only a safe, but a useful confi- 
 dante. 
 
 When Grace was much younger, she
 
 278 JA^'ET's CHOICE. 
 
 had someLimes been disposed to fret and 
 murmur at lier lot, to wonder why it 
 Avas that she who had such heart- stirrings, 
 such longings to be up and doing, should 
 be condemned to a life of hopeless in- 
 activity. 
 
 But that feeling had long ago left her, 
 and as she saw how both her brother and 
 sister always came to her in their troubles, 
 while her motlier relied on her for advice 
 and assistance in every matter, whether 
 trivial or important, she felt that she 
 was not leading a useless life after all, 
 though physical weakness prevented her 
 from doing many things which would 
 have delighted her. Her life was to sit 
 still, and by her constant self-renouncing 
 love to win the hearts and affections of 
 all around her. 
 
 And need we say that she succeeded ? 
 Do we not all know what a comfort it is
 
 Janet's choice. 279 
 
 to feel sure of at least one person in the 
 world in whom we can confide, and on 
 whose sympathy we can rely ?
 
 280 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " For that to know, 
 Rather consists in opening out a way 
 Whence the imprisoned splendour may dart forth, 
 Than in effecting entry for a light 
 Supposed to be without." 
 
 TT7HEN Archie and Grace reached the 
 famous Craigmorna Fall, they 
 found the rest of the party all assembled 
 on the grassy bank in front of a pretty 
 cottage orn^e, in the largest room of 
 which the owner of the property kindly 
 allowed his friends to picnic. 
 
 The barouche had driven up just as 
 Sir Archibald had wandered off throuofh
 
 Janet's choice. 281 
 
 the woods with liis sister, and as the 
 elders had chosen a more direct path to 
 the falls, and had not been detained by 
 any confidential conversation on the way, 
 they had arrived first and were much 
 astonished at not finding the young host 
 there. 
 
 "Where have you been ?" said Petrouel. 
 '' We had begun to feel quite anxious 
 about you — had we not, Mr. Poyns ?" 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! yes !" said Mr. Poyns, 
 who had never thought about thera at 
 all, and whose whole ideas had been 
 centred in the charms of his enchan- 
 tress. - 
 
 Grace's thoughts had been so com- 
 pletely taken up with her brother and 
 the story he had been telling her that 
 she had almost forgotten the water-fall 
 she had come all the way to see. Now, 
 however, as she came suddenly upon
 
 282 Janet's (jhoice. 
 
 it, the sight was ahiiost overpowering in 
 its beauty. 
 
 It was a lovely chasm in the hill- side, 
 through which the water had made its 
 way, and impatient of restraint, had leapt 
 at one bound into the deep pool below, 
 scattering pearly drops of spray on the 
 graceful ferns which grew around, and 
 which stretched forth their delicate necks 
 to catch the welcome moisture. 
 
 The contrast between the rush and 
 hurry of the cascade itself, and the deep 
 stillness of the pool a few yards 
 below, was very remarkable. 
 
 " It is like hfe, is it not ?" said Grace, 
 turning to Lady Violet, who stood by 
 her, and who she thought was the only 
 person near enough at the moment to 
 hear what she said. 
 
 '' I was just thinking so myself. Miss 
 Morton," said Major Armstrong, " it is
 
 Janet's choice. 233 
 
 like the rush and liurrj of life, the way 
 in which we press onwards, heedless of 
 obstacles, and then find the sudden head- 
 long fall — and then oblivion — who cares 
 to remember us after that ?" 
 
 ** No," said Grace quickly. " I was 
 thinking rather of the troubles, the 
 trials of life, the rate at which we are 
 sometimes swept onward by circum-* 
 stances, and then the peace and rest 
 beyond, where, with heaven's reflection 
 resting on us, we can lie still and wait." 
 
 He was silent after her answer. The 
 course of his hfe had been a rough one, 
 and his bitter experience had inclined 
 him to take a morbid view of everything, 
 but the simple faith with which Grace 
 spoke, opened a new view for him. 
 
 "But is not lying still and waiting 
 stagnation ?" he added, after a few 
 minutes.
 
 284 Janet's choice. 
 
 spring 
 
 " Not if there is a fresli well-si 
 
 •vvithin," said Grace." 
 
 " Grace, you are staDcliug so near the 
 edge you make me quite dizzy," said Lady 
 Morton. And Grace instantly turned 
 away and seated herself beside her 
 mother, ready to answer her questions 
 and to join in the little pleasant chat 
 that was going on, as simply and as 
 naturally as if no deep thoughts had 
 ever been hers. 
 
 Major Armstrong remained where he 
 was in silent meditation. He had passed 
 through the whole curriculum of spiritual 
 learning which no visible university can 
 teach. He knew by experience that a 
 knowledsfe of infinite thino^s is not to 
 be acquired by human reason ; that it 
 needs development from within our own 
 natures. 
 
 But he did not see that the divine
 
 Janet's choice. 285 
 
 spark was needed to light the lamp 
 within our souls. The lio'ht of that 
 lamp is too often quenched by the gross 
 earthly matter which overlies it, but 
 when that is cleared away, then, like a 
 spring of naphtha, it will rise above the 
 clay of our mortality, and burn with a 
 pure flame for ever. 
 
 Grace had moved away in obedience 
 to her mother's call, in utter uncon- 
 sciousness that her words had had the 
 effect of rousing in Major Armstrong's 
 mind such a tumult of thought. She 
 had moved away, and had left him to 
 Nature, doing, without knowing it, the 
 kindest action possible. For Nature is 
 only inanimate to the careless. It is 
 very living and real to those who read it 
 aright, and you may depend upon it there 
 was more spirituality than materialism 
 in that early Greek mythology, which
 
 286 jaxNct's choice. 
 
 peopled air, earth, and sea \Yith immor- 
 tals. 
 
 *' Ah ! si jeunesse savait- ! si vieillesse 
 pouvait !" he muttered to himself as he 
 stood watching the rush of tlie waters. 
 '• If people would only live their lives 
 as realities and not as shams, how much 
 happier they would be !" 
 
 Just then, Petronel and the faithful 
 Poyns appeared on the other side of 
 the cliff. She was evidently sending 
 him in search of ferns or heather, or some 
 such perishable gifts (which she would 
 probably throw away the next minute), 
 merely from love of power. 
 
 Petronel was always gay, generally 
 charming. She loved no one but herself, 
 and only estimated the affection and ad- 
 miration wliich were lavished upon her, 
 by the consideration of how the}^ might 
 be turned to account in her one grand
 
 Janet's choice. 287 
 
 object of securing a high position in 
 ' Vanity Fair.' 
 
 Despise her as lie might, Major Arm- 
 strong could not help being interested in 
 Petronel. 
 
 She was too feminine, too fascinating, 
 too much bent on pleasing and being 
 pleased, to have passed through life as 
 a nonentit}^ even had she not been so 
 radiantly beautiful. • Mr. Poyns was per- 
 fectly infatuated, that was very clear, 
 and there w^as every reason to believe 
 that the young lady had no objection to 
 the prospect of becoming the future Lady 
 Delabole. 
 
 •' Well, I suppose it's a fair enough 
 exchange as far as it goes," mused Major 
 Armstrong. '' He will get the girl he 
 adores, as his wife, and she will get the 
 rank and position she wishes for ; but I 
 am a fool to trouble my head about their
 
 288 Janet's choice. 
 
 affairs, let them manage it their own way, 
 if they are satisfied I am sure I ought to 
 be. It is really no business of mine, only 
 I wish' she would not play that hateful 
 game under my nose. I have seen 
 enough of it at the gaming-tables of life 
 already." 
 
 At this moment the flag was hoisted 
 in front of the cottage, as a signal 
 that luncheon was ready, and the party 
 assembled, nothing loth, for that repast. 
 
 Archie having " had it out with 
 Brownie," as he put it, was certainly 
 better than he had been the evening 
 before, and Grace was delighted to see 
 him taking part in the conversation, with 
 an animation which he had not shown for 
 some time. 
 
 It was an evident effort for him, she 
 was sure; but it would do him good. 
 She .G:ave him an affectionate look as he
 
 Janet's choice. 289 
 
 seated himself next to her at the table, 
 aud was happy to be near him, though 
 her conversation was engrossed by Helen 
 Austruther, who, seated at her other side, 
 was 2*ivinor \iqy a lonof and voluble ac- 
 count of the drawing she was going to 
 make of the fall — her mind being slightly 
 disturbed, however, by the difficulty 
 which she experienced beforehand, in 
 deciding in what artist's style she should 
 render the subject. 
 
 Helen had no idea of originality ; she 
 and her sister both worked in grooves, 
 following blindly in other people's foot- 
 steps. 
 
 She had travelled a good deal, had 
 seen most of the celebrated pictures 
 in the principal foreign galleries and 
 churches, and so thought herself en- 
 titled to be considered an authority on 
 art ; but she had no love of Nature as 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 Janet's choice. 
 
 her model, and though she would travel 
 luiles to see a celebrated picture of a sun- 
 set, she would not trouble herself to cross 
 the room in order to enjoy the finest sky 
 effect in Nature's endless store. 
 
 With Grace it was very different. Hers 
 was the true artist's love of the beautiful. 
 She appreciated and enjoyed pictures im- 
 mensely ; but it was Nature she revelled 
 in. When the the luncheon was over, 
 she and Helen Anstruther began their 
 sketches, and the rest of the party strolled 
 about the lovely grounds, and followed 
 the windinsr course of the river througfli 
 the wooded glen. 
 
 " I wish I had a hammer," said Marion 
 Anstruther, as they paused for a few 
 moments at the head of the glen, resting 
 on the rocky seats which Nature had 
 scattered about hospitably for her guests. 
 *' I wish I had a hammer," she re-
 
 JA^•ET'S CHOICE. 291 
 
 peated, as no one had seemed incliued to 
 listen to this expression of her wants. 
 
 " Bless me ! what do yon want a ham- 
 mer for?" said Mrs. Becket, turning 
 round suddenly upon her perch, and 
 staring full in Marion's face with her 
 bright, robin-redbreast's black eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Becket's stares were rather alarm- 
 ing, they seemed to pierce through her 
 victim, bones and marrow and all. 
 
 '' I should like to geologise among 
 these rocks," said Marion, in a solemn 
 voice, that made the rest laugh. 
 
 '' For my part," said Mrs. Becket, 
 " I am quite content with the outside of 
 Nature. I don't care to knock holes in 
 her poor carcase, to see what her internal 
 economy may be. And what is more, I 
 believe half the people who go poking and 
 prying into stones, and flints, and arrow- 
 heads, and all the rest of it, know 
 
 u 2
 
 292 Janet's choice. 
 
 precious little about them, after all." 
 '' What would the savans say, Mrs. 
 Becket, to hear you talk such rank 
 heresy ?" said Major Armstrong. 
 
 '' Oh ! they are such delicious old muffs, 
 
 they can't see a joke to save their lives. 
 
 I once had such a funny adventure in 
 
 London, I was going to a musical party 
 
 at Mrs. Auberon's, and, by mistake, the 
 
 coachman took me to the wrong house; 
 
 there were ^^^ei^ty of lights, you know, 
 
 and carriages, and all that sort of thing, 
 
 so of course it did not strike me that 
 
 there was anything amiss. I had my 
 
 niece, Kitty Mars den, with me, and I 
 
 had been scolding her all the way in the 
 
 carriage, because she had been reading 
 
 a novel till the last moment, and had 
 
 then dressed all in a hurry. ' Kitty,' I 
 
 said, ' there won't be such an untidy head 
 
 of hair in the room to-night, T am sure.
 
 Janet's choice. 29o 
 
 as yours ; I have a good mind to take you 
 home and send you to bed.' However, 
 I didn't, for Kitty is a good-natured, 
 merry girl, and comes over one somehow. 
 So up we went, and found ourselves in 
 a large, well-lighted drawing-room; I 
 was rather amazed at not seeing^ a crea- 
 ture I knew, but I thought perhaps that 
 I, like a regular country-cousin, had come 
 early, and that all the rest of the set 
 would come presently. But Kitty, who 
 has sharp enough eyes, in spite of her 
 rough hair, instantly twigged that there 
 was no piano in the room. 
 
 " ' It can't be the right house, Aunt,' 
 she whispered. ' Mrs. Auberon asked 
 us to a musical party, and it is impos- 
 sible that there can be a musical party 
 without a piano.' I soon found that 
 she was right, for there was not a 
 creature that I knew, and as for Kitty
 
 294 Janet's choice. 
 
 having the worst dressed hair in the 
 room ! why, I declare there was no one 
 there h 'f as neat ! All the men 
 had long shaggy hair, badly made coats, 
 and ugly boots. Most of them had 
 enormous foreheads, and nearly all very 
 ugly mouths." 
 
 " How strange that you should have 
 remarked that !" said Major Armstrong. 
 " I have so often noticed that scientific 
 men have ugly mouths." 
 
 " My good Sir, it's the long words that 
 do it. How can any mortal man expect 
 to be able to pronounce them perpetually 
 and keep the shape of his lips?" 
 
 " Do go on, Mrs. Becket, and tell 
 us how you got out of ' the blues,' " 
 said Captain Burns. 
 
 " The blues you may well call them, 
 for they were dismal enough," said she. 
 " One man was holding forth upon some
 
 Janet's choice. 295 
 
 skulls of ancient Britons winch he had 
 been digging up. He was standing next 
 to nie, and staring hard at Kitty. 
 When I found I could slip away quietly, I 
 was leaving the room, when he followed 
 me and said, ' Excuse me. Madam, for 
 my apparent rudeness in looking at that 
 young lady, but I could not help being 
 struck with the shape of her frontal 
 bone, and I was thinking what a remark- 
 able skull hers would be.' ' Upon my 
 word, Sir,' I said, ' that is rather a ghastly 
 joke ; you seem to be fond of skulls.' 
 ' I have a large collection, Madam,' he 
 replied. ' Several shelves in my study 
 are covered with them, arranged as far 
 as may be ^chronologically.' ' Bless me !' 
 I cried, 'your room must be a regular 
 scullery.' " 
 
 "Mrs. Becket, you did not say that!" 
 said Captain Burns.
 
 296 Janet's choice. 
 
 " Indeed, I did," said Mrs. Becket, 
 " but the joke fell flat ; the man was 
 so full of his old bones and skulls and 
 things, that he had no brains left for a 
 good laugh." 
 
 " But I don't understand what all this 
 has to do with geology, and my having 
 forgotten my hammer," said Marion 
 An s truth er. 
 
 '' Mrs. Becket means to give you a 
 hint. Miss Anstruther," said Major Arm- 
 strong, '' that, however much study of the 
 sciences may develop your frontal bone 
 and improve your appearance in the skull 
 stage, the long words do harm to the 
 shaj)e of the mouth, and, therefore, are 
 better avoided by young ladies." 
 
 " You do not understand me. Major 
 Armstrong," said Marion impatiently 
 (she wanted to show off*, and did not 
 approve of the attention of the public
 
 Janet's choice. 297 
 
 being centred on Mrs. Becket's lively 
 stories), ''you do not understand!" 
 
 " I fear you are right, Miss Anstrutber," 
 said he, '' such themes are not for puny 
 intellects like mine. You know I told 
 you the other night that I agreed with 
 Bernard that there is a limit to the 
 human understanding." 
 
 Marion looked provoked. She had a 
 dim idea that the clever, satirical Major 
 was laughing at her; but her wits were 
 not quick enough for that intellectual 
 fencing which is so necessary for those 
 who wish to earn the reputation of 
 brilliant members of society. 
 
 Marion's brain was of a very stolid, 
 slow order. By the time she had taken 
 in one subject of which the flaneurs of 
 society were talking, they had flitted off 
 to another, and she invariably found her- 
 self behind hand in the race.
 
 298 Janet's choice. 
 
 '' You don't really despise science and 
 intellect, and all that sort of thing," said 
 Violet timidly to Major Arnistrong, as 
 they continued their walk. 
 
 " Despise them, Lady Violet !" said 
 Major Armstrong; '' no, indeed, but I de- 
 spise shams and make-believes. I have 
 no patience with anything unreal, and I am 
 sure you have not either !" 
 
 '' I can't think where Petronel is, 
 Archie?" said Lady Morton aside to her 
 son. 
 
 *' Wherever she is, Poyns is too," 
 said Archie ; '' except the sketchers, they 
 are the only absentees of the whole 
 party." 
 
 " What can they be about ?" said 
 Lady Morton. *' I hope Petronel has 
 not fallen into the rjver — she is so 
 rash, you know." 
 
 " Nonsense, mother ; Pet is right
 
 Janet's choice. 299 
 
 enough, slie can take care of herself," 
 said Archie. 
 
 " She is not the one most likely to 
 have put her foot into it," whispered Mrs. 
 Becket to Captain Burns. 
 
 " It is more than his foot," said he 
 savagely, *'it is over head and ears 
 with him." 
 
 Lovers who had been slighted always 
 spoke savagely of Petronel, when they 
 found she preferred others to them- 
 selves, and Captain Burns was at that 
 moment going through a fit of jealous 
 rage. 
 
 But what cared Petronel ? She took 
 her own course, in spite of what others 
 thought of her, and her course that 
 afternoon was a very decided one. 
 
 Before the party assembled for their 
 homeward drive, Petronel was engaged 
 to be married to Mr. Poyns. "What
 
 300 Janet's choice. 
 
 eloquence he bad employed beyond that 
 of which he was so perfect a master — 
 the eloquence of silence — it is not. for 
 me to say. Perhaps the rocks and 
 stones had tono^ues, but we must con- 
 clude that somehow the important words 
 were spoken, for these two were now 
 plighted to each other for good or ill, 
 for the rest of their lives. 
 
 END or THE FIEST VOLUME. 
 
 London : Printed by A. Schulze, 13, Poland Street. 
 
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