for this life and not conscious that he was in any way careless about the next.

One morning in the early winter he was sitting in his office with a letter in his hand. He had read it carefully twice over and was evidently so pleased with its contents that it was hard work for him to suppress that demure elation which is usually the only expression of great satisfaction a Scot permits himself to show.

"I must go and take counsel with Mary concerning this letter," he thought. "It is a very important one and Mary is a wise woman-at times. And when a case is this, that and what not, a woman is naturally better at finding a way through it than a man. At any rate, as everyone knows, I like my affairs to be at the plain settlement of yes or no."

Then he called his chief clerk and said,

"Mr. Douglas, you will tell one and all that ask after me, that I am away on business and will not be back here today."

"Yes, sir, I will just say the master is away for the day being.'

"Not you, Douglas. You are too big a Socialist, to 'master' any man. You would not give the Lord Provost himself the title. I have heard you talking

on Glasgow Green to a lot of beggarly idlers-more

"They were men for all that, Captain."

"Not for a' that, and a' that'! Robert Burns was not thinking of the like o' them, when he wrote his song. Not he!"

Then Kelder walked proudly away while his clerk watched him with a knowing smile and on returning to the outer office, said to his favorite confidant:

"There has been news that has set him up a bit and he is away to confer with his wife. Man, I'll tell you something: Robert Kelder is master at the Broomielaw but Mistress Mary Kelder is master in full at No. 7 Midland Crescent."

"So you think he has had good news?"

"I know it-fine! He couldn't keep the light out of his eyes nor the bit of smile from his lips, so he tried to make me believe he was laughing at my Socialism. Chut! I'm not carin'. I know well that if I was not necessary to him I would get my walking papers tomorrow. That's so!"

Kelder had started very confidently from his office but immediately he found himself in an irresistible crowd of weeping and greatly excited women; while close behind them marched a regiment of Highland infantry, going to embark for Africa. Now the

Scotch character, though hard as native granite, is marbled all through with veins of sentimentality, religious, patriotic and domestic and on these lines Kelder was easily moved at the proper time. Even at this untimely hour, the flag, the pipes and tartans of the old clans and their gallant bearing touched his spirit to eager response; and involuntarily he bared his head as the kilted soldiers passed before him.

But for all that, he was annoyed at the incident and all the way home was inwardly upbraiding the Provost and the Town Council for permitting such interruptions in the very heart and heat of the city's business hours. For Kelder's patriotism had been delicately nurtured; it knew nothing of the hardships and horrors frequently consequent on the sentiment. In his house it had been usually honored after a good dinner with three or four friends by libations of hot toddy, and songs of glory and affection for Scotland's brave lads and lovely lasses, her braes and glens, her kirks and homes. Then patriotism was a comfortable and delightful sentiment; but in the stour and stress of business, in the middle of the tired, dragging afternoon's work, it was too great a thing to be forced on a man's feelings.

The atmosphere of this imaginary wrong was about him when he put the latch key in his own door

and he then made a conscious effort to assume the look of satisfaction that had been so natural and so irrepressible when he decided to leave business for the day and go and talk over with his wife the letter he had just received.

Mrs. Kelder was in the parlor reading an American novel. She saw his broad shoulders and the set of his high silk hat as he passed the window and she laid aside her book and went into the hall to meet him. "Why, Robert," she cried, "You? You here at this hour of the day? Are you not feeling well? Is there anything wrong?"

"O you woman! Why don't you ask is there anything right? It is just as easy to say the good words, as the ill ones."

"Tut! I meant no harm, Robert. If all is right with you, yourself, there is nothing else can be far wrong to me."

"Well, then, since you are civil enough to say that, I will tell you freely that all is as right as I could wish it. I am very happy over a letter I got this morning from my brother Thomas and I wanted to be happy at your side; that is what my early homecoming means."

"Where else could you be full happy but at my side and in your own home? That has always been

Scotch character, though hard as native granite, is marbled all through with veins of sentimentality, religious, patriotic and domestic and on these lines. Kelder was easily moved at the proper time. Even at this untimely hour, the flag, the pipes and tartans of the old clans and their gallant bearing touched his spirit to eager response; and involuntarily he bared his head as the kilted soldiers passed before him.

But for all that, he was annoyed at the incident and all the way home was inwardly upbraiding the Provost and the Town Council for permitting such interruptions in the very heart and heat of the city's business hours. For Kelder's patriotism had been delicately nurtured; it knew nothing of the hardships and horrors frequently consequent on the sentiment. In his house it had been usually honored after a good dinner with three or four friends by libations of hot toddy, and songs of glory and affection for Scotland's brave lads and lovely lasses, her braes and glens, her kirks and homes. Then patriotism was a comfortable and delightful sentiment; but in the stour and stress of business, in the middle of the tired, dragging afternoon's work, it was too great a thing to be forced on a man's feelings.

The atmosphere of this imaginary wrong was about him when he put the latch key in his own door