"At the same time, Stephen Bruce, the son of my father's most intimate friend, renewed his addresses, for since I had grown to early womanhood, he had twice a-year, offered his hand, and been refused. This was the man that my father favored. He was a reserved and rather gloomy man, but his love for me was an all-absorbing passion. He had a good moral character, was well off in the world, and moreover, was the son of my father's bosom friend. Malcolm was poor in the possessions of the world, but rich in all that could ennoble and dignify a man. There was but little prospect of his rising in the world, in an obscure part of Scotland. An opportunity offered for him to enter upon a lucrative situation in China; he accepted; my heart sank within me, for I felt that a wide ocean would soon separate us, and I feared that I should never see the face of Malcolm Graham again. "My father encouraged the step. I could see the secret joy of Stephen Bruce, and I felt as if I could never consent. But Malcolm was young and hopeful; he saw at the end of his long exile, a sweet happy home among our native mountains, where we should share life's joys and sorrows; and, at last, I became reconciled to the thought. "We parted at the sweet trysting place where we had so often met in the happy days of our young affection. On the banks of the lake, near our quiet home, stood a clump of old trees, whose branches dipped gracefully in the placid water. "Thither we walked slowly to spend our last sad hours. I wore the light blue snood of a Scottish maiden, which somewhat confined my curls. "'Shall I hae one, Mary?' asked my cousin. "I cut one from my head, and tied it with a piece of the blue ribbon of my snood. "Malcolm placed it in a little pocket-book, and laid it away in his bosom. "After hours of silent weeping, he bade me farewell, and I felt as if a load of lead sank down into my heart, as I watched his retreating form until he vanished from my sight. "For two years, letters came regularly; all bright, encouraging, hopeful; he was fast acquiring a fortune, and would return in another year. In the meanwhile, Stephen Bruce increased his assiduities; I could not banish him from the house, because he was the son of my father's friend. In another year, a letter announced that Malcolm would sail in the ship Neptune for Liverpool, and that I might expect him in October, when I must be ready to fulfil my vow. I was a happy creature then; all the intervening time was passed in making my simple preparations.