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CHAPTER I.

The Belle of the Pabish.

Thb world IB very fair at four of the morning during the heats of high summer. The flowers which have slept with drooping heads and during a few brief hours retracted their perfume, as a woman withdraws herself when she has ventured overmuch^ prink themselves again and give forth a good smell.

So at leait thought Christopher Kennedy, scholar and gentleman, as he aroused himself in the accustomed dawn to go forth to meet with Lilias Armour.

It was a strange time for wooing, yet their only; for Fate, which takes upon itself to interfere with all things, had made Christopher classical master in the academy of Cairn Edward, and Lilias the daughter of his chief est enemy, Matthew Armour by name, farmer in the moor farm of Black Domal^ and Euling Elder in the Cameronian congregation called the Kirk on the Hill.

For the Elder, having returned one night from the market of Dumfries, where he had both seen and heard Mr. Christopher Kennedy, had sternly forbidden one of his family to hold any further intercourse with that blasphemer and ribald, a man (so he declared) as alien from grace as he was outlaw from the Covenants.

This, had Matthew Armour known it, was an excellent device, only it came too late. For Lilias, his sole daughter and the desire of his eyes, was already so

holilon in the toils of the schoolmaster's bright glances and loving wonls tliat not for father or mother^ kirk or covenants would she break the bond.

Si>, exactly at four of the old-fashioned gold-faced watoli which had ticked all night by his bedstead in the house of Tibby Allen, spinster, gossip, and householder in Qutvn Street, Cairn Edward, Mr. Christopher Kennedy stepiHHl out into the httle white street of the burgh, clean swept of j>^^ple, and with the sunshine flooding it cdloutly lUid emptily from end to end. just as if it were a tine summer Sabbath day during the morning diet of worship.

That young miui apj^ared to consider it the most natunU thing in the world that he should rise with the lark, and Unake himself to the he;ither and woodland with his K^fUiical case at his b:ick. He offered no e^Lplanativ^u when he returned! at eight to his frugal breakfasts though he had not brought back a single plant ar4d his Kvt* were •* a tjiir sioht to be seen." as his lauiiladv averred, •• What wi' lashin' throu^rh the dew on the meadow and spla^iiin* through the dubs o' the mv>s*, they are Uvvht less than a dis£rrace. Ar.v: how he oar. for verra sh:ime exiwt a professin' Chrls::^:: won-.ar. to clean them in :i:v.e tor him to C^'-^ 'o ihr 5s.*hule a: nir.o ivss^'ii Tibbv Allen's

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of overheated blood and ungovemed temperament. Nevertheless, this morning he rose with a certain elastic readiness, humming a stave of a Greek song he had set to his own music as he drew on his clothes after a hasty bath. He was ready to walk ten miles before breakfast, help Lilias Armour to gather in her cows, make the prettiest and most convincing of love in the shady places of the loaning, encounter (if he had bad luck) the stem eyes of her father, and after all be back again in time to see the early 'prentices taking down their snuff-brown shutters, and stacking them in neat piles behind the shop doors in the High Street of the little town, at the exact moment when his brother teachers were turning sleepily out of their beds to the music of the morning milk-cans rattling at tlieir doors.

So, recklessly, and yet with a sort of Mngly prodigality which to many women made him irresistible, the young classical master, concerning whose future his professors had entertained such great expectations, flung away with both hands the unretuming gold of love and youth.

AYTON PUBLISHING EDITION 

CHAPTER ONE

THE BELLE OF THE PARISH

The world is very fair at four of the morning during the heats of high summer. The flowers which have slept with drooping heads and during a few brief hours retracted their perfume, as a woman withdraws herself when she has ventured overmuch, prink themselves again and give forth a good smell.

So at least thought Christopher Kennedy, scholar and gentleman, as he aroused himself in the accustomed dawn to go forth to meet with Lilias Armour.

It was a strange time for wooing, yet their only; for Fate, which takes upon itself to interfere with all things, had made Christopher classical master in the academy of Cairn Edward, and Lilias the daughter of his chiefest enemy, Matthew Armour by name, farmer in the moor farm of Black Dornal and Ruling Elder in the Cameronian congregation called the Kirk on the Hill.

For the Elder, having returned one night from the market of Dumfries, where he had both seen and heard Mr. Christopher Kennedy, had sternly forbidden one of his family to hold any further intercourse with that blasphemer and ribald, a man (so he declared) as alien from grace as he was outlaw from the Covenants.

This, had Matthew Armour known it, was an excellent device, only it came too late. For Lilias, his sole daughter and the desire of his eyes, was already so holden in the toils of the schoolmaster's bright glances and loving words that not for father or mother, kirk or covenants would she break the bond.

So, exactly at four of the old-fashioned gold-faced watch which had ticked all night by his bedstead in the house of Tibby Allen, spinster, gossip, and householder in Queen Street, Cairn Edward, Mr. Christopher Kennedy stepped out into the little white street of the burgh, clean swept of people, and with the sunshine flooding it silently and emptily from end to end just as if it were a fine summer Sabbath day during the morning diet of worship.

That young man appeared to consider it the most natural thing in the world that he should rise with the lark and his betake himself to the heather and woodland with his botanical case at his back. He offered no explanation when he returned at eight to his frugal breakfast, though he had not brought back a single plant and his boots were ‘a fair sicht to be seen’ as his landlady averred. ‘what wi’ lashing through the dew on the meadow and splashin’ through the dubs o’ the moss, they are nocht less than a disgrace. And how he can for verra shame expect a professin’ Christian woman to clean them in time for him to gang to the schule at nine passes Tibby Allen’s comprehension!’

But neither did his landlady’s caustic comment over the wall of the pig-stye at the yard-head to her neighbour Mistress Sheepshanks, nor yet the window blinds which were so gingerly put aside with one finger to enable burghers’ daughters, in extreme dishabille, to speculate on what took handsome Christopher Kennedy tramping along the streets of Cairn Edward so early, had the slightest effect on the that headstrong young man.

For despite his early rising Christopher had been late at the social club (christened by himself The Tuneful Nine) in the Cross Keys the night before. Yesterday he had wrestled all day in the grammar school with the stupidity and the yet more irritant cleverness of the rural youth. He had slept the short, broken, uneasy slumber of overheated blood and ungoverened temperament. Nevertheless, this morning he rose with a certain elastic readiness, humming a stave of a Greek song he had set to his own music as he drew on his clothes after a hasty bath. He was ready to walk ten miles before breakfast, help Lilias Armour to gather in her cows, make the prettiest and most convincing of love in the shady places of the loaning, encounter (if he had bad luck) the stern eyes of her father, and after all be back again in time to see the early ‘prentices taking down their snuff-brown shutters, and stacking them in neat piles behind the shop doors in the High Street of the little town, at the exact moment when his brother teachers were turning sleepily out of their beds to the music of the morning milk-cans rattling at their doors.

So, recklessly, and yet with a sort of kingly prodigality which to many women made him irresistible, the young classical master, concerning whose future his professors had entertained such great expectations, flung away with both hands the unreturning gold of love and youth.

We undertook a multi-stage process. Each book was individually copy-edited and corrected for accuracy before being proof read 4 times. We cleaned up the contents pages and the chapter headings as well to make the editions more readable and then we published them to current professional standards as ebooks (kindle and epub) and in paperback editions. 
If that's not enough, Ayton editions also feature an Introduction by series editor Cally Phillips.