"I want your version—none other," she said, imperatively.

"Very well, very well; I will read it to you," said he, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket. "Here is a seat for you."

It was a rock mostly covered by soft green moss; and when she had seated herself, he threw himself down on the bracken by her side, leaning his head against her knee. And this is what the old dame out there in Canada had sent them as her humble wedding-gift—perhaps, as to the form of it, with some recollection of the song of the Princess Deirdri influencing her unequal lines:—

I am far from the land of my fathers.

I sit and mourn because of the great distance.

My old age brings me no comfort,

Since I am far from my own land.

My eyes strain across the wide ocean.

I see the lofty hills, and the peaks, and the glens;

I see the corries where the wide-antlered deer wander.

Joyful to me was my youth there.

I see the woods, deep-sheltered;

I see the rivers flowing by the rocks;

I see the sandy bays, and the headlands;

I see the sun [setting] behind Eilean Heimra.

Ru-Minard, O Ru-Minard!—

The promontory facing the great waves:

Often as a girl have I sate and watched the ships,

Singing to myself on Ru-Minard.

Loch-Heimra, O Loch-Heimra!—

Pleasant its shores, with the many birches;

Sweet were the youthful moments I spent watching

For one that I used to meet by Loch-Heimra.

Lochgarra, O Lochgarra!—

The fair town—the Town of the Big House——

"I wonder if the Americans know the meaning of Baltimore?" he said; and then he went on again—

Dear to me were my friends, happy the hours.

We spent together at Lochgarra.

But to-day there is no more of mourning;

To-day my old age is comforted;

To-day I lift up my voice, I send a message,

Across the sea to the dear one of my heart.

Well I remember him, the young boy fearless;

Fearless on the land, fearless on the sea;

Clinging to the crags seeking the ravens' nests.

Proud was I of Young Donald——

"There are some more verses about me," he again interpolated. "I will skip them."

"You shall not," she said. "Not a single word."

"Oh, how can I read all this about myself!" he protested.

"Well, then, give me the paper," said she, and she leant over and took it from him. Nor did she return it. She read right on to the end—though not aloud—