"That is weel said, wifie. Ane canna fail to see the Faither's gudeness in sic management o' us. But I think we wouldna need the bit and bridle sae often if we would tak God's gifts without forgetting wha sent them. God's children a' hae their chastisements; the Book says they maun hae them; but I trow the humble get far less than the proud and rebellious. I hope oor bairns will no hae to be sae muckle buffeted before they seek the rest that is provided for them aneath the sheltering wing of the Almighty. Annie is like Rab; hae ye never noticed it?"
"I hae seen it; but sin' she is a lass, I hae nae fears for her. Rab had nae fauts forbye drinking, ye ken."
"He was a'maist too heidstrang; but I wouldna mak mention o' it, savin' for Annie's sake. She would hae her ain way too if she wasna held wi' a strang hand. But we will gie her wi' the rest o' oor dear anes to the keeping o' the gude Lord. He kens best the way each maun be led."
CHAPTER XV. ANNIE.
Time passed and brought the usual changes to the family of honest Wullie. Jamie had finished his college course with honor, and was now a teacher in one of the high schools of Edinburgh. Davie could no longer be called "the wee lad." He took his place beside his father, and with his youthful vigor performed as much labor as Wullie with his declining strength. Annie was now in the full flush of early womanhood. Her dark eyes, rosy cheeks, and bewitching manner had already won the admiration of many "neebor lads," who did not fail to get a sight of her every Sunday in the kirk. But she had completely captured the heart of Donald McPherson, Jr. To his great annoyance she did not seem to reciprocate his affection. But knowing her to be lively and wilful, he hoped she only feigned indifference and did not mean to allow herself to be lightly won.
It was at this time that a nephew of John Cameron came to spend a few weeks at Laird Erskine's. He had been educated with Jamie, and, as was quite natural, he called at the cottage to deliver a message and some presents from Jamie. In one of his rambles he took occasion to call a second time. He chatted pleasantly with Annie, and was pleased with her artless simplicity. When he was about to return to Edinburgh he called again to say good-by. He gave his hand to Annie as he took leave, and with a pleasant smile remarked, "I hope I shall see you again."
Poor Annie! It was the first time a fine gentleman had talked with her. She could not but observe the refinement of his manner and conversation. She contrasted him with the rustic lads of the neighborhood, and they sank into insignificance. She remembered his looks and his words, and pondered them in her heart. How she wished she had been born a lady, or had been educated like her brother Jamie! Her sunny face lost some of its color. She moved about her work mechanically, her thoughts wandering in the cloud-land of her imagination.
Mrs. Murdoch noticed the change in her daughter's manner. "What ails ye, lass, that ye dinna talk ony mair? Are ye no weel?" she asked.