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Cameron is not bad," she added, with a little bow to Cameron, with whom she had just finished a reel. Readily enough Cameron tuned his pipes, for he was aching to get at them and only too glad to furnish music for the gay company of kindly hearted folk who were giving him his first evening's pleasure since he had left the Cuagh Oir.
And like a homing pigeon, his heart, after some faint struggles in the grip of its owner's will, made swift flight toward the far-away Highland glen across the sea, the Cuagh Oir.
Just over the line of the Grampians, near the head-waters of the Spey, a glen, small and secluded, lies bedded deep among the hills, a glen that when filled with sunlight on a summer day lies like a cup of gold; the gold all liquid and flowing over the cup's rim. And hence they call the glen "The Cuagh Oir," The Glen of the Cup of Gold.
This ranch lay nestling cozily among the foothills and in sight of the towering peaks of the Rockies, and was so well watered with little lakes and streams that when his eyes fell upon it Cameron was conscious of a sharp pang of homesickness, so suggestive was it of the beloved Glen Cuagh Oir of his own Homeland. There would be a thousand pounds or more left from his father's estate.
But from loch to rim, over field and muir and forest, the golden, liquid light ever flows on a sunny day and fills the Cuagh Oir till it runs over. On the east side of the loch, among some ragged firs, a rambling Manor House, ivy-covered and ancient, stood; and behind it, some distance away, the red tiling of a farm-cottage, with its steading clustering near, could be seen.
"Of course," she replied, "and so we call it the Glen Cuagh Oir, that is the 'Glen of the Cup of Gold. And to think he has to leave it all to-morrow!" she added. The pathetic cadences in her voice again drove Martin to despair. He recovered himself, however, to say, "But he is going to Canada!" "Yes, to Canada.
Allan took his leave of the Glen Cuagh Oir. It was the custom in Doctor Dunn's household that, immediately after dinner, his youngest son would spend half an hour in the study with his father. It was a time for confidences.
And to think I didn't know you. And to think you should remember me." "Remember! Well do I remember you and that day in the Cuagh Oir but you have forgotten all about that day." A little flush appeared on her pale cheek. "Forgotten?" cried Martin. "But you didn't know me," she added with a slight severity in her tone. "I was not looking for you." "Not looking for me?" cried the girl.
Relieved by the walk for a time from the ache in his head, Cameron surrendered himself to the mysterious influences of the place and the hour. He let his eyes wander over the fields below him to the far horizon, and beyond beyond the woods, beyond the intervening leagues of land and sea and was again gazing upon the sunlit loveliness of the Cuagh Oir.
And as for our friend Cameron, I've ceased to pity him; on the contrary, I envy him his luck." Once more the golden light of a sunny spring day was shining on the sapphire loch at the bottom, and overflowing at the rim of the Cuagh Oir. But for all its flowing gold, there was grief in the Glen grief deep and silent, like the quiet waters of the little loch.
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