Ronald had been in New Orleans and had the fever; he had been in Texas, and spent four years in fighting Indians and Mexicans and in herding cattle.  He had suffered many things, but had worked night and day, and always managed to grow a little richer every year.  Then, suddenly, the word “California!” rung through the world, and he caught the echo even on the lonely southwestern prairies.  Through incredible hardships he had made his way thither, and a sudden and wonderful fortune had crowned his labors, first in mining and afterward in speculation and merchandising.  He said that he was indeed afraid to tell her how rich he was lest to her Arcadean views the sum might appear incredible.

Margaret let the letter fall on her lap and clasped her hands above it.  Her face was beautiful.  If the prodigal son had a sister she must have looked just as Margaret looked when they brought in her lost brother, in the best robe and the gold ring.

The dominie was not so satisfied.  A good many things in the letter displeased him, but he kissed Margaret tenderly and went away from her.  “It is a’ I did this, an’ I did that, an’ I suffered you; there is nae word o’ God’s help, or o’ what ither folk had to thole.  I’ll no be doing ma duty if I dinna set his sin afore his e’en.”

The old man was little used to writing, and the effort was a great one, but he bravely made it, and without delay.  In a few curt, idiomatic sentences he told Ronald Margaret’s story of suffering and wrong and poverty; her hard work for daily bread; her loss of friends, of her good name and her lover, adding:  “It is a puir success, ma lad, that ye dinna acknowledge God in; an’ let me tell thee, thy restitution is o’er late for thy credit.  I wad hae thought better o’ it had thou made it when it took the last plack i’ thy pouch.  Out o’ thy great wealth, a few hun’red pounds is nae matter to speak aboot.”

But people did speak of it.  In spite of our chronic abuse of human nature it is, after all, a kindly nature, and rejoices in good more than in evil.  The story of Ronald’s restitution is considered honorable to it, and it was much made of in the daily papers.  Margaret’s friends flocked round her again, saying, “I’m sorry, Margaret!” as simply and honestly as little children, and the dominie did not fail to give them the lecture on charity that Margaret neglected.

Whether the Udaller Thorkald wrote to his son anent these transactions, or whether the captain read in the papers enough to satisfy him, he never explained; but one day he suddenly appeared at Dr. Ogilvie’s and asked for Margaret.  He had probably good excuses for his conduct to offer; if not, Margaret was quite ready to invent for him—­as she had done for Ronald—­all the noble qualities he lacked.  The captain was tired of military life, and anxious to return to Orkney; and, as his own and Margaret’s property was yearly increasing:  in value, he foresaw profitable employment for his talents.  He had plans for introducing many southern improvements—­for building a fine modern house, growing some of the hardier fruits and for the construction of a grand conservatory for Margaret’s flowers.