rlie had anything to say about it. I am sure he would be
the last one willingly to displease me or you. And, really, I don't see
why you should be angry about it, dear Rosie."

"I am not angry. Why should I be angry?" But she reddened as she met
Graeme's eye. Graeme looked at her in some surprise.

"Harry is--is unbearable sometimes," said Rose. "Fancy his taking me to
task about--about his friend--Oh! there is no use talking about it.
Graeme, are you going out?"

"Yes, if you like. But, Rose, I think you are hard upon Harry. There
must be some misunderstanding. Why! he is as fond and as proud of you
as possible. You must not be vain when I say so."

"That does not prevent his being very unreasonable, all the same.
However, he seems to have got over it, or forgotten it. Don't let us
speak any more about it, Graeme, or think about it either."

But Graeme did think about it, and at first had thoughts of questioning
Harry with regard to Rose's cause of quarrel with him, but she thought
better of it and did not. Nor did she ever speak about it again to
Rose; but it came into her mind often when she saw the two together, and
once, when she heard Harry say something to Rose about her distance and
dignity, and how uncalled for all that sort of thing was, she would have
liked to know to what he was referring to, but she did not ask, for,
notwithstanding little disagreements of this kind, they were evidently
excellent friends.

How exactly like the old time before Arthur's marriage, and before Will
or Harry went away, some of the days were, that followed the coming home
of Rose. They seemed like the days even longer ago, Graeme felt, with a
sense of rest and peace at her heart unspeakable. For the old content,
nay, something better and more abiding had come back to her. The peace
that comes after a time of trouble, the content that grows out of sorrow
sanctified, are best. Remembering what has gone before, we know how to
estimate the depth, and strength, and sweetness--the sharpness of past
pain being a measure for the present joy. And, besides, the content
that comes to us from God, out of disappointment and sorrow, is ours
beyond loss, because it is God-given, and we need fear no evil.

So these were truly peaceful days to Graeme, untroubled by regret for
the past, or by anxious fears for the future. They were busy days, too,
filled with the occupations that naturally sprung out of happy home
life, and