"Pardon me, Mercy, but I do want to know how your father treats you!" "We will not talk about him, please. He is my father!--and so far yours that you are bound to make what excuse you can for him." "That I am bound to do, if he were no father to either of us. It is what God is always doing for us!--only he will never let us off." "He has had no one to teach him, Alister! and has always been rich, and accustomed to have his own way! I begin to think one punishment of making money in a wrong manner is to be prosperous in it!" "I am sure you are right! But will you be able to bear poverty, Mercy?" "Yes," she answered, but so carelessly that she seemed to speak without having thought. "You do not know what poverty means!" rejoined Alister. "We may have to endure much for our people!" "It means YOU any way, does it not? If you and poverty come together, welcome you and your friend!--I see I must confess a thing! Do you remember telling me to read Julius Caesar?" "Yes." "Do you remember how Portia gave herself a wound, that she might prove to her husband she was able to keep a secret?" "Yes, surely!" "I have my meals in my room now, so I can do as I please, and I never eat the nice things dear mother always sends me, but potatoes, and porridge, and bread and milk." "What IS that for, Mercy?" "To show you I am worthy of being poor--able at least to be poor. I have not once tasted anything VERY nice since the letter that made my father so angry." "You darling!" Of all men a highlander understands independence of the KIND of food. "But," continued Alister, "you need not go on with it; I am quite convinced; and we must take with thanksgiving what God gives us. Besides, you have to grow yet!" "Alister! and me like a May-pole!" "You are tall enough, but we are creatures of three dimensions, and need more than height. You must eat, or you will certainly be ill!" "Oh, I eat! But just as you please! Only it wouldn't do me the least harm so long as you didn't mind! It was as much to prove to myself I could, as to you! But don't you think it must be nearly time for people to wake from their first sleep?" The same instant there was a little noise--like a sob. Mercy started, and when she looked again Alister had vanished--as noiselessly as he came. For a moment she sat afraid to move. A wind came blowing upon her from the window: some one had opened her door! What if it were her father! She compelled herself to turn her head. It was something white!--it was Christina! She came to her through the shadow of the moonlight, put her arms round her, and pressed to her face a wet cheek. For a moment or two neither spoke. "I heard a little, Mercy!" sobbed Christina. "Forgive me; I meant no harm; I only wanted to know if you were awake; I was coming to see you." "Thank you, Chrissy! That was good of you!"