pped trying for her favour. Was it because he was
discouraged, or because he did not care? She was so far from
understanding Gavin that she did not guess that his pride was keeping
him aloof.

Annie McKenzie and Ellen were ahead, and Christina found herself
walking beside Bruce. This was not unusual, for Bruce had always been
so much one of the family that he just as often walked with her or one
of the boys as with Ellen. She was so happy that she was impelled to
express her joy.

"It's so nice to see you at practice, Bruce," she said. "It's lonesome
here when all the boys are away."

"Yes, it's good to be home again," said Bruce without enthusiasm. "But
I think I've got the city fever rather badly. I just couldn't settle
down in Orchard Glen, now that I've been away."

Christina sympathised. "I fancy I'll feel like that when I go away,"
she ventured.

"Yes, you will," he declared. "When you get away you realise how small
and narrow everything in your life has been. It changes a person
completely. Nothing seems the same." He spoke in tones of depression.
He was not at all the old Bruce who had been always kind and cheery,
and almost as nice as John.

Christina experienced a feeling of dismay. "Nothing seems the same,"
weighed heavily upon her heart.

He came in for the evening lunch the Lindsay kitchen always furnished,
but he went away when the rest left, and did not have a word with Ellen
alone.

"What were you and Bruce talking about so seriously?" asked Ellen with
forced lightness, as she and Christina put away the remains of the
feast in the cellar.

"Oh, nothing much," said Christina confused. "About Toronto mostly.
He likes it awfully well there," and she hurried away into Grandpa's
room to take her last look at him and see that he was comfortable, and
avoided further questioning.

"Tell me all about him when you write next," Mary said when Hugh came
as radiant and eager as on her wedding day to take her home.

Christina promised. "It wouldn't be so bad if everybody wasn't so
interested," she said with a sigh. "It's Joanna; that's the worst part
of it."

"This is such a narrow gossipy little place," complained the lady from
the metropolis. "I'll be glad when you get away out West with
Allister, Christine."

"But Ellen can't get away from it," said Christina, "and mother's been
here nearly all her life and she's not narrow nor gossipy." For
Christina was not quite so sure now t