garding her mistress affectionately.

"I tell ye what, ma'am," she cried in a burst of gratitude, "bad as ye
are, other people's worse!"

She banged the door and strode off singing loudly:

"_Timmy--eigh timmy--um, timmy--tum--tum--tum,
Of all false young men to beware!_

Miss Gordon accepted the doubtfully worded compliment for all it really
meant from Sarah Emily's generous heart. But the crudeness of it
jarred upon her genteel nerves. Unfortunately Miss Gordon was not so
constituted as to see its humor.

She darned on, quickly and excitedly. Her dream that the rich Mrs.
Jarvis should one day take a fancy to the Gordons and make their
fortune was growing rosier every moment. Little Jamie came wandering
over the grass towards her. His hands were full of dandelions and he
looked not unlike an overgrown one himself with his towsled yellow
curls. He leaned across her knee, his curly head hanging down, and
swayed to and fro, crooning a little sleepy song. Miss Gordon's thin
hand passed lovingly over his silky hair. Her face grew soft and
beautiful. At such times the castles in Edinburgh grew dim and ceased
to allure.

She arose and took the child's hand. "Come, Jamie dear," she said,
"and we'll meet father." And so great was her good-humor, caused by
her hopeful news, that when Annie met her shyly at the garden gate with
the young schoolmaster following, her aunt gave him a stately but
cordial invitation to supper. In view of the prospects before the
family, she felt she could for the time at least let the tavern-keeping
ancestor go on suspended sentence.

The Gordons gathered noisily about the supper table, William Gordon, a
tall, thin man, strongly resembling his sister, but with all her
severity and force of character missing, came wandering in from his
study. His eyes bright and kindly, but with a far-away, absent look,
beamed over the large table. He sat down, then catching sight of the
guest standing beside Annie, rose, and shook him cordially by the hand.

The family seated themselves in their accustomed places, Annie, the
pretty one, at her father's right hand, then Malcolm and Jean, the
clever ones, John the quiet one, and Mary, the delicate one--a pale
little girl with a sweet, pathetic mouth. On either side of their aunt
were the two little boys, Archie and Jamie, and there was a plate
between Mary and John which belonged to an absent member of the family.
Here the visitor sat, and