G3 



CHAPTER III. 



DEATH OF MISS DUNBAR. 



DURING those months which Miller passed in Lin- 

 lithgow, his friend Miss Dunbar lay on her death- 

 bed, slowly sinking under intolerable agonies. She 

 retained her faculties unimpaired, and in the intervals of 

 pain manifested that gracious interest in all that con- 

 cerned her friends which characterized her in health. 

 Her malady was known to be incurable, but it does not 

 appear that Miller was aware of any reason for appre- 

 hending that it would soon have a fatal termination. He 

 continued, therefore, to write to her in the light dis- 

 cursive manner he had previously adopted. 



' Linlithgow. 



f I must try to coin time (the phrase is poor Henry 

 Kirk White's, who killed himself in the process), in which 

 to show you that the hurry of my new occupation is as 

 unable to dissipate the recollection of your kindness as 

 the rougher fatigues of my old one. The more I see of 

 life, the more I am convinced that " it is not in man that 

 walketh to direct his steps." Here am I in Linlithgow, 

 acquiring that degree of skill in business matters that 

 may fit rne for a bank accountant. Six weeks ago I had 



