IN GATE'S VOOER. 349 



scarcely have failed to hear him approach. His move- 

 ments had been quiet, it is true, but she might have 

 heard him come. 



The scattered relics and Miss Ingath's attitude told 

 him at a glance what her occupation had been, and 

 what her feelings were. He took one step forward as 

 though he meant to offer sympathy; but a second 

 thought prompted him to withdraw as noiselessly as 

 he had come. So Ingath was not aware that any one 

 had been a witness of her weakness and her pain. 



A few minutes later her attention was drawn to 

 the sound of a step echoing through the gloomy pas- 

 sage leading to the room she occupied just then. 



And as the step advanced, so also was brought 

 nearer and clearer the notes of a Scottish tune, 

 whistled in a low key as if the whistler's thoughts 

 were at the antipodes. Now, it oddly enough hap- 

 pened, that the tune was one she particularly loved. 

 Years ago she had been wont to sing " Jock o' Hazel- 

 dean," and to build castles in the air when she sung it 

 This favourite song of hers had been caught up by the 

 presumptuous fisher lad, who used to loiter about 

 Orgert at that time, and he used to whistle it as he 

 went about his work in just such a clear tone as 

 now this matter-of-fact recluse, and woman-hater, was 

 doing. 



For just a moment Miss Ingath gave a regretful 

 thought to the lover whom she had despised and 

 spurned at the time when she had dreams of more 

 eligible suitors. A memory of Ole's blue eyes dark- 



