e was puzzled and annoyed by the change
in her. She was as sweet and friendly towards him as of old, but her
manner of timid deference seemed to have changed to an intangible air
of superiority. The young pastor could not know that she had passed
far beyond him on the spiritual road, and the distance between them
bewildered him. He began to realise too, to his chagrin, that she was
avoiding him. No matter what pains he took to seek her company, she
managed, in some mysterious way, to elude him. He wondered gloomily
how much Donald Neil had to do with the change.

But soon all personal affairs had to be set aside, for the date of Mr.
Watson's great celebration had arrived. Whatever diverse opinions
there may have been in the community regarding the aims of the
patriotic society, all seemed unanimous in regard to attending their
entertainment. The concert was to be given in the Methodist Church,
while tea was served previously in the Temperance Hall across the
street.

At an early hour eager spectators began to pour in.

Inside the hall, waiters, struggling through the crowd around the
tables, left more cake and pie upon the human obstructions around them
than they carried to the hungry folks already seated. Turkey,
sandwiches, cake and pie disappeared as if by magic, as the long tables
were filled again and again.

Waiters flew, dishes rattled, babies cried and everyone talked and
laughed and made a noise. And every five minutes the door would fly
open, creaking on its frosty hinges, to admit a rush of chill, fresh
air and still another crowd.

The cooking had been done on a tremendous scale, and the results were
beyond praise. The North and the South had "played a drawn game," Wee
Andra declared; for even Mr. Egerton, seated with the Methodist
minister at the head of the longest and most heavily-laden board, was
unable to detect one slight shade of greater excellence in one than the
other and ate Northern pies and Southern tarts with an impartial relish.

He and Mr. Watson succeeded after supper in extricating themselves from
the hungry crowd. They crossed the street to where the windows of the
church gleamed warm and bright.

"Well, Watson," said the minister encouragingly, "the crowd is here at
any rate, whether it's a patriotic one or not."

"Yes siree!" The schoolmaster was in high spirits. "If it's not
patriotic now, I'll bet my head it will be before we're done with them.
This is all owing t