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MACMILLAN'S MAGAZINE.

VOLUMES I. TO LXI., COMPRISING NUMBERS 1-366. HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH, PRICE 7s. 6d. EACH.

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781-81

MACMILLAN'S MAGAZINE.

NOVEMBER, 1889.

KIRSTEEN.

THE STORY OF A SCOTCH FAMILY, SEVENTY YEARS AGO.

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"He was by far, and by far, the nicest there," cried Kirsteen with enthusiasm.

"For them that like an auld Joe," said Mary demurely. Kirsteen had no thought of "Joes" old or young, but she thought with pleasure that she had gained a friend.

"The Duke took me for his daughter -and oh! if there was such a person she would be a happy lass. Aunt Eelen, did you ever hear"

Kirsteen cast a glance round and checked further question, for her father consuming a delicate Loch Fyne herring, with his attention concentrated on his plate, and Mary seated primly smiling over her scone, were not at all in sympathy with the tale she had been told last night. Miss Eelen, with the tray before her on which stood the teapot and teacups, peering into each to count the lumps of sugar she had placed there, did not appear much more congenial, though there were moments when the old lady showed a romantic side. No trace of the turban and feathers of last night was on her venerable head. No. 361.-VOL. LXI.

She wore a muslin mutch, fine but not much different from those of the old wives in the cottages, with a broad black ribbon round it tied in a large bow on the top of her head; and her shoulders were enveloped in a warm tartan shawl pinned at the neck with a silver brooch. The fringes of the shawl had a way of getting entangled in the tray, and swept the teaspoons to the ground when she made an incautious movement; but nothing would induce Miss Eelen to resign the teamaking into younger hands.

"Did I ever hear?" she said. "I would like to know, Kirsteen Douglas, what it is I havena heard in my long pilgrimage of nigh upon seventy years. But there's a time for everything. If ye ask me at another moment I'll tell ye the whole story. Is it you, Drumcarro, that takes no sugar in your tea? No doubt you've had plenty in your time in yon dreadful West Indies where you were so long."

"What's dreadful about them?" said Drumcarro. "It's ignorance that makes ye say so. Ye would think ye were in paradise if ye were there." "Oh, never with all those meeserable slaves!"

"You're just a set of idiots with your prejudices," said the Laird, who had finished his herrings and pushed away his plate. "Slaves, quo' she! There's few of them would change places, I can tell ye, with your crofters and such like that ye call free men."

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"Ye were looking for something,

father," said Mary.

"I'm looking for that mutton bone," said her father. “"Fish is a fine thing; but there's nothing like a bit of butcher's meat to begin the day upon."

"It's my ain curing," said Miss Eelen. "Ye can scarcely call it butcher's meat, and it's just a leg of one of your own sheep, Druincarro. Cry upon the lassie, Kirsteen, and she'll bring it ben in a moment. We're so used to womenfolk in this house, we just forget a man's appetite. I can recommend the eggs, for they're all our own laying. Two-three hens just makes all the difference in a house; ye never perceive their feeding, and there's aye a fresh egg for an occasion. And so you were pleased with your ball? I'm glad of it, for it's often not the case when lassies are young and have no acquaintance with the world. They expect ower much. They think they're to get all the attention like the heroines in thae foolish story-books. But that's a delusion that soon passes away. And then you're thankful for what you get, which is a far more wholesome frame of mind."

Kirsteen assented to this with a grave face, and a little sigh for the beautiful visions of ideal pleasure which she had lost.

But Mary bridled, and declared that all her expectations had been fulfilled. "I got a great deal of attention," she said, "and perhaps I had not such grand fancies as other folk."

"I have bidden Glendochart to come and see us at Drumcarro. Ye'll have to see to the spare cha'amer, and that he gets a good dinner," said Mr. Douglas. "Him and me we have many things in common. He's one of the best of his name, with a good record behind him-not to match with our auld Douglas line, but nothing to snuff at, and not far off the head of the house himsel'."

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"No such a thing-he's twenty years younger than me," said Mr. Douglas angrily. "And I was at no schule, here or there, as ye might well mind." ten

"Twenty years! If there's between ye that's the most of it. There's no ten between ye. When I was a young lass in my teens John Campbell was a bit toddling bairn, and ye were little mair, Drumcarro. Na, na, ye need not tell me. If there's five, that's the most. Ye might have been at the schule together and nothing out of the common. But he's had none of the cares of a family, though maybe he has had as bad to bear; and a man that is not marriet has aye a younger look. I ken not why, for with women it's just the contrair."

"Mr. Campbell is a very personable man," said Mary. "I'm no judge of ages, but I would say he was just in middle life."

"It's but little consequence what you say," said her father roughly. "If Kirsteen was to express an opinion

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Kirsteen's mind had a little wandered during this discussion. Glendochart's age appeared to this young woman a subject quite unimportant. He was of the age of all the fathers and old friends. Had she been a modern girl she would have said he was a darling, but no such liberties were taken in her day.

"And that I will," she said, "for we made friends though I've only seen him one night. He is just a man after my own heart," said Kirsteen with warmth, with a sigh at the thought of his sad story, and a rising colour which was due to the fact that her imagination had linked the idea of young Ronald with that of this old and delightful gentleman who had been what her young lover was-but born to a less happy fate.

"Well," said Drumcarro, "now ye've spoken, Kirsteen, ye've made no secret of your feelings; and, so far as I can judge, he has just as fine an opinion

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