Winding yonder through the trees--here, sweeping round that soft swelling grassy bank, and again a little further on over-arched by those long bare, far-spreading boughs. Beyond itself there is little prospect, for the trees on every side shut in the view, delicately revealing their naked tracing against the sky, with heavy firs and pines keeping some show of verdure in the skeleton wood. But Halbert and Lilias were not thinking of views, except of those eager, hopeful human ones, which rose so vividly before the youth’s eyes; for Halbert was explaining his own wishes and intentions, and craving the good counsel of the Lily of Mossgray. “I should have very much preferred my father’s profession,” said the young man, “and Mr Monikie told me Mossgray was willing that I should study for the bar if I chose; but Mossgray has supported me all my life, Lilias. I could not think of remaining a burden on him.” “And was that your sole reason?” asked his grave and sagacious counsellor. The honest Halbert blushed, and smiled, and hesitated. “Well, perhaps it would not be quite true if I said it was the sole reason; but it certainly was an important one.” “And the others?” inquired Lilias with a smile. “The others? they were various; for instance, I am not by any means sure that I have the necessary gifts--so few men can speak well in public; and--it must always be a slow success, I fancy, the success of an advocate; when one has a rank to maintain, and very little to maintain it--” Halbert looked very prudent and careful as he paused. “And you want to succeed quickly, Halbert,” said Lilias, “and so will choose some gainful business rather than the learned profession--is that it?” “To tell the truth,” said Halbert, hastily, “I am anxious to be settled as soon as possible; to establish myself; to have a home; you understand me, Lilias?” Lilias looked at the youth’s glowing face and smiled. “Did you never think you were too young, Halbert, to be the head of a house?” “Too young!” Halbert was half inclined to be angry. “Come, Lilias, that is not fair; and then you know, I have no friends, no relations; I am alone.” Lilias became suddenly grave; but as she looked again at the young, frank face beside her, in its flush of early manhood, another smile, kindly and gentle, stole over her lip. To be alone--to have no friends--the joyous Halbert with his light spirit, and honest straightforward character, and lack of the ideal and sensitive, did by no means understand what these words meant. He could find a Menie Monikie everywhere, he could never be alone. “You were not alone in Aberdeenshire,” said Lilias; “and I fancy you will be bringing this pretty Menie to Mossgray by and by, Halbert. Is that what being settled means?” Halbert stammered a happy half denial, which was a confession, and proceeded in very high spirits to ask Lilias what she thought he should do.