leave her there with her sad thoughts, her loneliness, while he returned to the gay life, where it was so easy to forget or at least to still the voice of sorrow. Having remained with them a few days he proceeded again to Edinburgh, first stopping off at Mauchline to call at the home of Squire Armour, only to be met with curses and to be driven from the door by the stern, unyielding man. Robert returned to Edinburgh, his heart filled with bitterness and sorrow. For a while he brooded over his troubles, which threatened to plunge him into a state of extreme melancholy. But at last resentment and anger crowded out all other thoughts, and it was not long before he succeeded in drowning recollection in the midst of the society and dissipation of the metropolis. A year passed by, during which time he had vainly tried to get word to Jean Armour. He had heard that she had given birth to twins, and the thought that they were without the protection of a father’s name filled him with grief and remorse. Time and again he had written her, only to have his letters returned unopened. Finally he had received a letter from her father, stating that “the children were dead and that Jean had quite forgotten him, and was about to be joined in wedlock with a neighboring rich farmer; that now he hoped Robert would leave him and his daughter in peace,” etc., etc. He laid down the letter with a thrill of joy stirring his blood. Free at last! He had done his duty as a man of honor, and now, after all the bitter heartache and the long separation, he was free to marry his little sweetheart. “Oh, thank God!” he cried aloud, in an ecstasy of joy. “Thank God, the miserable tangle in our lives will soon be straightened.” He had long entertained a desire to visit those parts of his native country which were so celebrated in the rural songs of Scotland, and he would now gratify that desire with Mary’s home as the objective point. As soon as arrangements could be made he started for the Highlands on horseback, accompanied by a friend, one Will Nichol, and, his fame having preceded him, they were royally entertained on their journey through the country. Finally they arrived in Dornoch, where Mary was living quietly with her sister, and soon the long parted lovers were clasped in each other’s arms. Later that day he told her the glorious news of his release, his freedom from all ties, told her of his undying love, and swore that never again should they be parted in this life. And Mary with a prayer of thankfulness in her faithful heart, blushingly gave her willing consent to a speedy marriage. The next day they all returned by easy stages to Edinburgh. Mrs. Dunlop, an old friend of Robert’s, took the country maiden under her protecting wing and gave her a home until the marriage could be solemnized, the date having been set one month from the time of their arrival. CHAPTER XIII