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the lass think the mair o' him： they aye side wi' the ane they tak
to be ill…used！〃
〃I thought you said you would in any case have no more to do with
her！〃 said Donal。
Kennedy was silent for a moment。
〃A body may tear at their hert；〃 he muttered； 〃but gien it winna
come； what's the guid o' sweirin' oot it maun！〃
〃Well；〃 returned Donal； 〃it may be some comfort to you to know that；
for the present at least； and I hope for altogether； the thing is
put a stop to。 The housekeeper at the castle knows all about it；
and she and I will do our best。 Her grandparents know too。 Eppie
herself and lord Forgue have both of them promised there shall be no
more of it。 And I do believe； Kennedy； there has been nothing more
than great silliness on either side。 I hope you will not forget
yourself again。 You gave me a promise and broke it！〃
〃No i' the letter； sironly i' the speerit！〃 rejoined Kennedy： 〃I
gaedna near the castel！〃
〃'Only in the spirit！' did you say； Stephen？ What matters the word
but for the spirit？ The Bible itself lets the word go any time for
the spirit！ Would it have been a breach of your promise if you had
gone to the castle on some service to the man you almost murdered？
If ever you lay your hand on the lad again； I'll do my best to give
you over to justice。 But keep quiet； and I'll do all I can for
you。〃
Kennedy promised to govern himself； and they parted friends。
CHAPTER XXVII。
THE SOUL OF THE OLD GARDEN。
The days went on and on； and still Donal saw nothing； or next to
nothing of the earl。 Thrice he met him on the way to the walled
garden in which he was wont to take his unfrequent exercise； on one
of these occasions his lordship spoke to him courteously； the next
scarcely noticed him； the third passed him without recognition。
Donal； who with equal mind took everything as it came； troubled
himself not at all about the matter。 He was doing his work as well
as he knew how； and that was enough。
Now also he saw scarcely anything of lord Forgue either； he no
longer sought his superior scholarship。 Lady Arctura he saw
generally once a week at the religion…lesson； of Miss Carmichael
happily nothing at all。 But as he grew more familiar with the
countenance of lady Arctura； it pained him more and more to see it
so sad； so far from peaceful。 What might be the cause of it？
Most well…meaning young women are in general tolerably happypartly
perhaps because they have few or no aspirations； not troubling
themselves about what alone is the end of thoughtand partly
perhaps because they despise the sadness ever ready to assail them；
as something unworthy。 But if condemned to the round of a
tormenting theological mill； and at the same time consumed with
strenuous endeavour to order thoughts and feelings according to
supposed requirements of the gospel； with little to employ them and
no companions to make them forget themselves； such would be at once
more sad and more worthy。 The narrow ways trodden of men are
miserable； they have high walls on each side； and but an occasional
glimpse of the sky above； and in such paths lady Arctura was trying
to walk。 The true way； though narrow； is not unlovely： most
footpaths are lovelier than high roads。 It may be full of toil； but
it cannot be miserable。 It has not walls； but fields and forests
and gardens around it； and limitless sky overhead。 It has its
sorrows； but many of them lie only on its borders； and they that
leave the path gather them。 Lady Arctura was devouring her soul in
silence； with such effectual help thereto as the self…sufficient
friend； who had never encountered a real difficulty in her life；
plenteously gave her。 Miss Carmichael dealt with her honestly
according to her wisdom； but that wisdom was foolishness； she said
what she thought right； but was wrong in what she counted right；
nay； she did what she thought rightbut no amount of doing wrong
right can set the soul on the high table…land of freedom； or endow
it with liberating help。
The autumn passed； and the winter was at handa terrible time to
the old and ailing even in tracts nearer the sunto the young and
healthy a merry time even in the snows and bitter frosts of eastern
Scotland。 Davie looked chiefly to the skating； and in particular to
the pleasure he was going to have in teaching Mr。 Grant； who had
never done any sliding except on the soles of his nailed shoes： when
the time came； he acquired the art the more rapidly that he never
minded what blunders he made in learning a thing。 The dread of
blundering is a great bar to success。
He visited the Comins often； and found continual comfort and help in
their friendship。 The letters he received from home； especially
those of his friend sir Gibbie； who not unfrequently wrote also for
Donal's father and mother； were a great nourishment to him。
As the cold and the nights grew； the water…level rose in Donal's
well； and the poetry began to flow。 When we have no summer without；
we must supply it from within。 Those must have comfort in
themselves who are sent to help others。 Up in his aerie； like an
eagle above the low affairs of the earth； he led a keener life；
breathed the breath of a more genuine existence than the rest of the
house。 No doubt the old cobbler； seated at his last over a mouldy
shoe； breathed a yet higher air than Donal weaving his verse； or
reading grand old Greek； in his tower； but Donal was on the same
path； the only path with an infinite endthe divine destiny。
He had often thought of trying the old man with some of the best
poetry he knew； desirous of knowing what receptivity he might have
for it； but always when with him had hitherto forgot his proposed
inquiry； and thought of it again only after he had left him： the
original flow of the cobbler's life put the thought of testing it
out of his mind。
One afternoon； when the last of the leaves had fallen； and the
country was bare as the heart of an old man who has lived to
himself； Donal； seated before a great fire of coal and boat…logs；
fell a thinking of the old garden； vanished with the summer； but
living in the memory of its delight。 All that was left of it at the
foot of the hill was its corpse； but its soul was in the heaven of
Donal's spirit； and there this night gathered to itself a new form。
It grew and grew in him； till it filled with its thoughts the mind
of the poet。 He turned to his table； and began to write： with many
emendations afterwards； the result was this：
THE OLD GARDEN。
I。
I stood in an ancient garden
With high red walls around；
Over them gray and green lichens
In shadowy arabesque wound。
The topmost climbing blossoms
On fields kine…haunted looked out；
But within were shelter and shadow；
And daintiest odours about。
There were alleys and lurking arbours
Deep glooms into which to dive；
The lawns were as soft as fleeces
Of daisies I counted but five。
The sun…dial was so aged
It had gathered a thoughtful grace；
And the round…about of the shadow
Seemed to have furrowed its face。
The flowers were all of the oldest
That ever in garden sprung；
Red； and blood…red； and dark purple；
The rose…lamps flaming hung。
Along the borders fring閐
With broad thick edges of box；
Stood fox…gloves and gorgeous poppies；
And great…eyed hollyhocks。
There were junipers trimmed into castles；
And ash…trees bowed into tents；
For the garden； though ancient and pensive；
Still wore quaint ornaments。
It was all so stately fantastic；
Its old wind hardly would stir：
Young Spring； when she merrily entered；
Must feel it no place for her！
II。
I stood in the summer morning
Under a cavernous yew；
The sun was gently climbing；
And the scents rose after the dew。
I saw the wise old mansion；
Like a cow in the noonday…heat；
Stand in a pool of shadows
That rippled about its feet。
Its windows were oriel and latticed；
Lowly and wide and fair；
And its chimneys like clustered pillars
Stood up in the thin blue air。
White doves； like the thoughts of a lady；
Haunted it in and out；
With a train of green and blue comets；
The peacock went marching about。
The birds in the trees were singing
A song as old as the world；
Of love and green leaves and sunshine；
And winter folded and furled。
They sang that never was sadness
But it melted and passed away；
They sang that never was darkness
But in came the conquering day。
And I knew that a maiden somewhere；
In a sober sunlit gloom；
In a nimbus of shining garments；
An aureole of white…browed bloom；
Looked out on the garden dreamy；
And knew not that it was old；
Looked past the gray and the sombre；
And saw but the green and the gold。
III。
I stood in the gathering twilight；
In a gently blowing wind；
And the house looked half uneasy；
Like one that was left behind。
The roses had lost their redness；
And cold the grass had grown；
At roost were the pigeons and peacock；
And the dial was dead gray stone。
The world by the gathering twilight
In a gauzy dusk was clad；
It went in through my eyes to my spirit；
And made me a little sad。