's never done, is a
great help to many a one, as well as me. And trouble or no trouble, it
is what you ought to know and do in your father's house."

So Graeme submitted to her friend's judgment, and conscientiously tried
to become wise in all household matters, keeping track of pieces of beef
and bags of flour, of breakfasts, dinners and suppers, in a way that
excited admiration, and sometimes other feelings, in the mind of the
capable Hannah.

So a very pleasant winter wore on, and the days were beginning to grow
long again, before the old dread was awakened in Graeme. For only in
one way was Marian different from her old self. She did not come to
exert herself. She was, perhaps, a little quieter, too, but she was
quite cheerful, taking as much interest as ever in home affairs and in
the affairs of the village. Almost every day, after the sleighing
became good, she enjoyed a drive with Graeme or her father, or with Mr
Snow in his big sleigh after the "bonny greys." They paid visits, too,
stopping a few minutes at Judge Merle's or Mr Greenleaf's, or at some
other friendly home in the village; and if their friends' eyes grew
grave and very tender at the sight of them, it did not for a long time
come into Graeme's mind that it was because they saw something that was
invisible as yet to hers. So the time wore on, and not one in the
minister's happy household knew that each day that passed so peacefully
over them was leaving one less between them and a great sorrow.

The first fear was awakened in Graeme by a very little thing. After
several stormy Sabbaths had kept her sister at home from church, a mild,
bright day came, but it did not tempt her out.

"I am very sorry not to go, Graeme," said she; "but I was so weary last
time. Let me stay at home to-day."

So she stayed; and all the way down the hill and over the valley the
thought of her darkened the sunlight to her sister's eyes. Nor was the
shadow chased away by the many kindly greetings that awaited her at the
church door; for no one asked why her sister was not with her, but only
how she seemed to-day. It was well that the sunshine, coming in on the
corner where she sat, gave her an excuse for letting fall her veil over
her face, for many a bitter tear fell behind it. When the services were
over, and it was time to go home, she shrunk from answering more
inquiries about Marian, and hastened away, though she knew that Mrs
Merle was waiting for her at