party, Christina felt, as she ran here and there,
waiting on the guests, and trying hard not to think about the glory of
the future.

Uncle Neil came to the veranda door in his stocking feet and shirt
sleeves.

"Come away in here, you musicians," he called, "Allister wants to hear
some of the old songs!"

There was much holding back and shoving of others forward, and many
declarations of heavy colds and a rooted inability to sing at any time,
but finally some of the girls were persuaded to move inside, and the
boys followed.

Minnie Brown was organist in the Methodist church, so she was invited
to the place of honour on the organ stool. Ellen lit the big lamp with
the pink shade, and Trem. Henderson, who was the leader in musical
circles and whom everybody called Tremendous K., was called in from the
smoky region of the kitchen to start the singing.

They sang several of the old hymns first, so that Grandpa might enjoy
them; and then Allister sent Sandy in from the kitchen to say that he
must have some of the good old rousing Scotch songs they used to sing
when he was home. So Mary brought out the old tartan-covered song-book
and they sang it through, from the dreamy wail of "Ye Banks and Braes"
to the rollicking lilt of the Hundred Pipers when

"Twa thousand swam ower to fell English ground,
An' danced themselves dry to the pibroch's sound!"

It was a grand old-time evening, such as was not so often indulged in
as when times were newer and money scarce. When Mrs. Lindsay and the
girls had passed around cake and pie and big cups of tea thick with
cream the festivity was over, and the company moved away down the lane
in the soft May moonlight.

And Christina and Sandy hung over the garden gate, like a pair of
lovers, long after the last guest had gone, and made wonderful plans
for the future, when they would be going to the University together.

CHAPTER III

"WHOSOEVER WILL LOSE HIS LIFE"

Christina was sitting in the old hammock on the veranda, ready for
church. She had already done a big morning's work. For, though the
Sabbath was rigidly kept in the Lindsay home, and made a day of rest as
much as possible, the usual multitude of barnyard duties had to be
attended to, for the chickens and the pigs and the calves clamoured
just as loudly for their breakfast on Sabbath morning as any week day.

But Christina's work was all done and she was neatly dressed; her heavy
golden brown braids wer