The Lilac Sunbonnet: A Love Story

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PROLOGUE.—BY THE WAYSIDE I.—THE BLANKET-WASHING II.—THE MOTHER OF KING LEMUEL III.—A TREASURE-TROVE IV.—A CAVALIER PURITAN V.—A LESSON IN BOTANY VI.—CURLED EYELASHES VII.—CONCERNING TAKING EXERCISE VIII.—THE MINISTER'S MAN ARMS FOR CONQUEST IX.—THE ADVENT OF THE CUIF X.—THE LOVE-SONG OF THE MAVIS XI.—ANDREW KISSOCK GOES TO SCHOOL XII.—MIDSUMMER DAWN XIII.—A STRING OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET XIV.—CAPTAIN AGNEW GREATORIX XV.—ON THE EDGE OF THE ORCHARD XVI.—THE CUIF BEFORE THE SESSION XVII.—WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME XVIII.—A DAUGHTER OF THE PlCTS XIX.—AT THE BARN END XX.- DARK-BROWED EGYPT XXI.—THE RETURN OF EBIE FARRISH XXII.—A SCARLET POPPY XXIII.—CONCERNING JOHN BAIRDIESON XXIV.—LEGITIMATE SPORT XXV.—BARRIERS BREAKING XXVI.—SUCH SWEET PERIL XXVII.—THE OPINIONS OF SAUNDERS MOWDIEWORT UPON BESOM-SHANKS XXVIII.—THAT GIPSY JESS XXIX.—THE DARK OF THE MOON AT THE GRANNOCH BRIDGE XXX.—THE HILL GATE XXXI.—THE STUDY OF THE MANSE OF DULLARG XXXII.—OUTCAST AND ALIEN FROM THE COMMONWEALTH XXXIII.—JOCK GORDON TAKES A HAND XXXIV.—THE DEW OF THEIR YOUTH XXXV.—SUCH SWEET SORROW XXXVI.—OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY XXXVII.—UNDER THE RED HEATHER XXXVIII.—BEFORE THE REFORMER'S CHAIR XXXIX.—JEMIMA, KEZIA, AND LITTLE KEREN-HAPPUCH XL.—A TRIANGULAR CONVERSATION XLI.—THE MEETING OF THE SYNOD XLII.—PURGING AND RESTORATION XLIII.—THREADS DRAWN TOGETHER XLIV.—WINSOME'S LAST TRYST XLV.—THE LAST OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET
As Ralph Peden came along the dusty Cairn Edward road from the coach which had set him down there on its way to the Ferry town, he paused to rest in the evening light at the head of the Long Wood of Larbrax. Here, under boughs that arched the way, he took from his shoulders his knapsack, filled with Hebrew and Greek books, and rested his head on the larger bag of roughly tanned Westland leather, in which were all his other belongings. They were not numerous. He might, indeed, have left both his bags for the Dullarg carrier on Saturday, but to lack his beloved books for four days was not to be thought of for a moment by Ralph Peden. He would rather have carried them up the eight long miles to the manse of the Dullarg one by one.