“Marget passed that meenut tae the kirk, an'... a' saw her look. Na, it wesna scorn, nor peety; it wes sorrow.... This wes a bien hoose in the auld day when she wes on the fairm, an' she wes wae tae see sic a change in me. A' hed tae borrow the money through the lawyer, ye ken, an' it wes a fecht payin' it wi' interest. Aye, but it wes a pleesure tae, a' that a'll ever hev, Weelum....” “Did ye never want tae... tell her?” and the doctor looked curiously at Drumsheugh. “Juist aince, Weelum, in her gairden, an' the day Geordie deed. Marget thankit me for the college fees and bit expenses a' hed paid. 'A father cudna hae been kinder tae ma laddie,' she said, an' she laid her hand on ma airm. 'Ye 're a gude man, a' see it clear this day, an'... ma hert is... warm tae ye,' A' ran oot o' the gairden. A' micht hae broken doon. Oh, gin Geordie hed been ma ain laddie an' Marget... ma wife.” Maclure waited a little, and then he quietly left, but first he laid his hand on his friend's shoulder to show that he understood. After he had gone, Drumsheugh opened his desk and took out a withered flower. He pressed it twice to his lips, and each time he said Marget with a sob that rent his heart. It was the forget-me-not. III.--DRUMSHEUGH'S REWARD People tell us that if you commit a secret to a dweller in the city, and exact pledges of faithfulness, the confidence will be proclaimed on the housetops within twenty-four hours, and yet, that no charge of treachery can be brought against your friend. He has simply succumbed to the conflict between the habit of free trade in speech and the sudden embargo on one article. Secret was engraved on his face and oozed from the skirts of his garments, so that every conversational detective saw at a glance that the man was carrying treasure, and seized it at his will. When one told a secret thing to his neighbour in Drumtochty, it did not make a ripple on the hearer's face, and it disappeared as into a deep well. “Ay, ay” was absolutely necessary as an assurance of attention, and the farthest expression of surprise did not go beyond, “That wesna chancy.” Whether a Drumrecesses of his mind, no one can tell, but when Jamie Soutar, after an hour's silence, one evening withdrew his pipe and said “Sall” with marked emphasis, it occurred to me that he may have been digesting an event. Perhaps the law of silence was never broken except once, but that was on a royal scale, when William Maclure indirectly let out the romance of Drumsheugh's love to Marget Howe, and afterwards was forgiven by his friend. Marget had come to visit the doctor about a month before he died, bearing gifts, and after a while their conversation turned to George. “Dinna speak aboot ma traivellin' tae see ye,” Marget said; “there's no a body in the Glen but is behaddit tae ye, an' a' can never forget what ye did for ma laddie yon lang summer-time.”