nd she took to
doing towels and table-napkins and doilies for Mary.

"I can't help thinking that it's a dreadful waste for you to get
married," declared Christina, one Saturday afternoon as they all sewed
furiously in the big roomy kitchen. "You're just throwing away a
teacher's certificate. My! If I had Greenwood school I'd never get
married!" And Mary and Ellen laughed and looked at each other
knowingly from their respective heights far above Christina's head.

She tried to keep up her studies by following Jimmie's course, and
stayed home on Friday nights from the Temperance meeting to help him
with his lessons.

One evening they had a long hunt through "The Lady of the Lake" for a
line about the Harebell which Jimmie must quote in an essay. They were
sitting around the long kitchen table, all except Mary who was out
driving in the moonlight. Ellen was at one end writing to Bruce as
usual, John at the other, reading the daily paper, Mrs. Lindsay was
knitting, and Uncle Neil was strumming out fragments of old songs on
his violin, his stockinged feet comfortable on the damper of the stove.

Even Uncle Neil's memory could not produce the Harebell, and Jimmie
went rummaging through the book impatiently.

"Gavin Grant would tell me if he was here," Jimmie said. "He knows all
this stuff off by heart."

"And plenty more," put in Uncle Neil to the tune of "Oh wert thou in
the cauld blast?" "Gavin's mind is well stored. Mr. Sinclair says he
reads Carlyle in the evenings with the Grant girls. I wonder if you
could match that anywhere in this country?"

Christina felt self-accusing, remembering her superior feeling in
Gavin's awkward presence. He had been very busy with the harvest and
she had not seen him except at church for a long time. He had never
attempted to walk home with her again, and she could not help wondering
whether it was because he was shy, or because he did not care.
Womanlike she would have given a good deal to know.

"I wish you would run over to Craig-Ellachie with that jar of black
currants I promised the Grant Girls, Christina," said her mother.

"That's the seventeenth time you've been reminded of that," said Jimmie
chidingly.

"I think John'll have to hitch up the team and take that jar over in
the hay wagon," said Uncle Neil, "Christine doesn't seem to be able to
manage it."

"She's shy about going to see Gavin," said John, looking at her with
twinkling eyes over his paper. Fo