And now, as she thought of these things, the girl's memory wandered fondly away to the pleasant days of her childhood at Essilmont, where there were no high walls or great houses, as here at Antwerp, to shut out the pure air and bright sunshine of God, but where all was so open and free; and so, in fancy, she was again there, amid the white snows of winter, when the Ythan was frozen between its banks; the trees were covered with glittering crystalline hoar frost, and the braes were shrouded with snow; when the primroses and violets of spring peeped up under the budding timber; when the forests were leafy in summer; the fox-glove blazed ruddy amid the green underwood, and when there was a glow equal to dawn through all the short June nights in the glorious north; and in autumn, when the golden corn waved on the upland slopes, and beautiful were the fern and heath that covered the bonnie, bonnie braes she might never look upon again, and the tears of a great tenderness and love of her old Scottish home welled up in her eyes at the thought; but she dried them in haste as she became aware that her father was speaking to her again, and upon the old obnoxious topic. 'Yes, Alison, as I was saying--and you seemed to assent by your silence--many marriages turn out very well that have no better basis than mutual liking.' 'But in this instance there would be none; and on my side there are loathing and contempt now! How wise the frogs were in Æsop; they had a great mind to have some water, papa, but they did not leap into the well lest they might not get out again.' 'This is most objectionable language, Alison,' exclaimed her father; 'how often am I to remind you that the young ladies of the world we move in--or should move in--seldom marry for what poets and fellows of that kind call love, but almost invariably for money and position; and Cadbury is certainly a more than eligible candidate for your hand.' 'I should like, papa, to have some of the brightness of a girl's life before I marry.' 'Alison, you could have as much brightness after your marriage as any reasonable being could desire.' Alison was silent. Brightness, she was thinking. Yes, with Bevil Goring, but not with Lord Cadbury. Oh, why was Bevil so poor that he could not boldly claim her at once; yet, poor she deemed him to be, gladly would she have cast her lot in life with him, but for the opposition and wishes of the poor old man who lay there. 'Think of how good, how kind Lord Cadbury is, and of the expense to which we must put him,' said Sir Ranald, after a time. 'I think not of that; his kindness is forced upon us; and surely I may consider my own freedom of action, my own wishes, tastes, and life.' 'I wish you would be a little more considerate, and think of your old father at times.' 'Oh, papa!' she exclaimed, reproachfully, and then she sighed bitterly. 'How often and how long, oh heaven! am I to hear all this over and over again?'