e, and she'll be a
high-brow and go travelling over the country lecturing on Women's
Rights!"

"I do believe I'd do it, even the lecturing part, for the sake of the
college course," she declared. "Oh, Allister, I'm simply _aching_ to
get away and have a good education and be--be _somebody_--even if it's
only a Woman's Righter!"

"Hooroo! I'm with you. I guess your education won't break me. You've
got the kind of spirit that's bound to win, so off you go. You get
your sunbonnet and all the fal-lals girls have to get, and be ready
next Fall to finish your High School and then it's you for college!"

"Allister!" She turned to look at him. It just could not be that he
meant what he said. Her eyes were like stars in the twilight, her
voice sank to a whisper.

"Allister! What are you saying?"

He laughed joyfully. "I'm saying that you can start out on the road to
glory next September and I'll foot the bills!" he shouted. "You're
deaf as Grandpa!"

Christina suddenly realised that he really meant it; that the glorious
unbelievable thing upon which she had set her heart was hers. She gave
a sudden spring from her seat to throw herself in an abandon of
gratitude upon her brother. But the leap had an entirely different
result. The unsteady fence rail upon which she sat gave a lurch,
turned over and Christina and it together went crashing into the
raspberry and gooseberry bushes and thistles and stones of the fence
corner.

Allister jumped from his perch to her assistance.

"Gosh hang it, girl," he cried, "you might have killed yourself!"

Christina staggered to her feet, scratched and dishevelled. "Oh, my
goodness!" she cried, "to think of killing myself at this supreme
moment! If I had I'd never, never speak to myself again for missing
that University course!"

When they got back to the house Christina went about in a happy daze.
There was no opportunity to do more than whisper the wonderful news to
Sandy, and then she had to fly about to help put everything in order
before the guests arrived.

The Lindsay home was at all times a popular gathering-place of an
evening, for there was always plenty of company and music there, and a
jolly time. Indeed Uncle Neil was in the habit of saying that, when
the milk pails were hung out along the shed they were like the Standard
on the Braes o' Mar, for when the young fellows of the countryside saw
them, they came flocking over the hills. And indeed the last p