“I did na’ think that the man was in earnest, an’ I remonstrated with him on his folly an’ injustice. This ended in a sharp quarrel atween us, and I left him to gang his ain gate, an’ went to live with my uncle, who kept a blacksmith’s forge in the village. “After a while, we heard that Willie Robertson was married to a Canadian woman—neither young nor good-looking, and very much his inferior in every way, but she had a good lot of land in the rear of his farm. Of course I thought that it was all broken off with puir Jeanie, and I wondered what she would spier at the marriage. “It was early in June, and our Canadian woods were in their first flush o’ green—an’ how green and lightsome they be in their spring dress—when Jeanie Burns landed in Canada. She traveled her lane up the country, wondering why Willie was not at Montreal to meet her as he had promised in the last letter he sent her. It was late in the afternoon when the steamboat brought her to C——, and, without waiting to ask any questions respecting him, she hired a man and cart to take her and her luggage to M——. The road through the bush was very heavy, and it was night before they reached Robertson’s clearing, and with some difficulty the driver found his way among the logs to the cabin-door. “Hearing the sound of wheels, the wife, a coarse, ill-dressed slattern, came out to see what could bring strangers to such an out-o’-the-way place at that late hour. ‘Puir Jeanie! I can weel imagine the fluttering o’ her heart when she spier’d of the woman for ane Willie Robertson, and asked if he was at hame?’ “‘Yes,’ answered the wife gruffly; ‘but he is not in from the fallow yet—you may see him up yonder, tending the blazing logs.’ “While Jeanie was striving to look in the direction which the woman pointed out, and could na’ see through the tears that blinded her e’e, the driver jumped down from the cart, and asked the puir girl where he should leave her trunks, as it was getting late, and he must be off. “‘You need not bring these big chests in here,’ said Mrs. Robertson; ‘I have no room in my house for strangers and their luggage.’ “‘Your house!’ gasped Jeanie, catching her arm. ‘Did you na’ tell me that he lived here?—and whereever Willie Robertson bides Jeanie Burns sud be a welcome guest. Tell him,’ she continued, trembling all ower, for she told me afterward that there was something in the woman’s look and tone that made the cold chills run to her heart, ‘that an auld friend from Scotland has jist came off a lang, wearisome journey to see him.’ “‘You may speak for yourself!’ cried the woman angrily, ‘for my husband is now coming down the clearing.’ “The word husband was scarcely out o’ her mouth than puir Jeanie fell as ane dead across the doorstep.