Everything has gone well for me since I did my best for him.

It was even through him that you came to know me, Angus!--think of that! Blessings on the dear old man!--I'm sure he must be an angel in disguise!" He smiled.
"Well, we never know!" he said.

"Angels certainly don't come to us with all the celestial splendour which is supposed to belong to them--they may perhaps choose the most unlikely way in which to make their errands known.

I have often--especially lately--thought that I have seen an angel looking at me out of the eyes of a woman!" "You _will_ talk poetry!" protested Mary.
"I'm not talking it--I'm living it!" he answered.
There was nothing to be said to this.

He was an incorrigible lover, and remonstrances were in vain.
"You must not tell David's real history to any of the villagers," said Mary presently, as they came in sight of her cottage--"I wouldn't like them to know it." "They shall never know it so far as I am concerned," he answered.