s Olive went on her way, showing great tenderness to little Ailie,
and, as it seemed, being gradually drawn by the child to the father.
Besides, there was another sympathy between them, caused by the early
associations of both, and by their common Scottish blood. For Harold
had inherited from his father nothing but his name; from his mother
everything besides. Born in Scotland, he was a Scotsman to the very
core. His influence awakened once more every feeling that bound Olive
Rothesay to the land of her birth--her father's land. All things
connected therewith took, in her eyes, a new romance. She was happy, she
knew not why--happy as she had been in her dreamy girlhood. It seemed as
though in her life had dawned a second spring.

Perhaps there was but one thing which really troubled her; and that was
the prohibition in her teaching of little Ailie. She talked the matter
over with her mother; that is, she uttered aloud her own thoughts, to
which Mrs. Rothesay meekly assented; saying, as usual, that Olive was
quite right. And at last, after much hesitation, she made up her mind to
speak openly on the subject with Mr. Gwynne.

For this arduous undertaking, at which in spite of herself she
trembled a little, she chose a time when he had met her in one of her
forest-walks, which she had undertaken, as she often did, to fulfil
some charitable duty, usually that of the clergyman or the clergyman's
family.

"How kind you are, Miss Rothesay; and to come all through the wintry
forest, too! It was scarcely fit for you.".

"Then it certainly was not for Mrs. Gwynne. I was quite glad to relieve
her; and it gives me real pleasure to read and talk with John Dent's
sick mother. Much as she suffers, she is the happiest old woman I ever
saw in my life."

"What makes her happy, think you?" said Harold continuing the
conversation as if he wished it to be continued, and so falling
naturally into a quiet arm-in-arm walk.

Olive answered, responding to his evident intention, and passing
at once, as in their conversations they always did, to a subject of
interest, "She is happy, because she has a meek and trusting faith in
God; and though she knows little she loves much."

"Can one love Him whom one does not fully know?" It was one of the sharp
searching questions that Mr. Gwynne sometimes put, which never failed to
startle Olive, and to which she could not always reply; but she made an
effort to do so now.

"Yes, when what we do kno