Captain Reeves still holds that beautiful and romantic villa of his far away in the wild, romantic north of Scotland.
He gives larger and nicer parties now than ever, for he dearly loves good company.
Poor Mrs. M‘Lean no longer lives in a couple of small rooms in the east end of the great Granite City. No; she has bought one of the most charming modern villas far out Rubislaw way, and many an old friend drops in of an evening to drink tea or stay to dinner whom she could not have asked or entertained in the days of her poverty.
Miguel does not now have to slave at harvests, nor to endanger his life at the herring fishery. He was down seeing me about a month ago, dear happy, hopeful youth!
He is as determined to be a clergyman as ever, and there is now no danger of his having to wait long for a living, because he knows of one—just the one he should like—for sale; that is, the gift is in the hands of a lord who is willing to part for a consideration.
In less than a month the heather will all be in bloom on the mountain sides; my guns are already ready, and my honest setter Dash is ready too. By the morning of the glorious twelfth Reeves and I will be on the hill. Bonnie little Mina will have her gun too, and I need hardly add that Miguel will not be far away.
I feel certain that in their case the stream of love will run smooth, and that their married life, when the time for marriage comes, will be a happy one.
That side by side their barks of Life may glide calmly over the sea of Time to a glad Beyond, is the earnest wish and prayer of
The Author.
THE END.