the seat at his side, and he was soon safely set down
at the cottage-door. But it was some time before Archie appeared among
the boys again, so long that John, after taking his brother Davie
severely to task for his thoughtlessness, one fine morning walked over
the hills to see if Archie were really ill.

"Ill? No! What should make me ill?" But Archie looked pale and weary,
in spite of his denial. He was upon the turf seat at the end of the
house; and, sitting down beside him, John took up the book he had been
reading. It was a volume of Flavel.

"Have you read much of this?" John asked, wondering at his taste. "Do
you like it?"

"I haven't read much of it to-day; but Lilias and I read it last winter
to my aunt, and I liked it well, not so well to read to myself, though,
as some others."

"What others?" asked John.

"Oh, the History of Scotland, and the Tales of the Covenanters, and some
books of poetry that my aunt has got. But I like Flavel too. Don't
you?"

"Oh, yes," replied John, smiling, and a little confused. "To tell the
truth, I have not read much of him. Tell me what you think of him. Of
this, for instance."

And he read the quaint heading of a chapter in the book he held in his
hand.

It never came into Archie's mind that young John Graham was "just trying
him," as boys say; and, in perfect simplicity and good faith, he gave an
abstract of the chapter, with comments of his aunt's, and some of his
own upon it. It was not very clear or very complete, it is true; but it
was enough to change considerably the expression of John's face as he
listened.

This was the beginning of a long conversation. John Graham had laid out
for himself three hours of hard reading after his bracing tramp over the
hills; but it was past noon when he went in to see Mrs Blair before he
went away. He did not think the morning wasted; though in general, like
all hard students, he was a miser respecting his time. When he was
going away, he offered Archie any of his books, and said he would help
him to understand them while he stayed at home.

"That won't be long now, however," he added. "But why don't you go to
school?"

"I should like to go to Dunmoor parish school with Davie; but my aunt
thinks it's too far."

"Well, I think, after your scramble to Colla's Head, and the ten good
miles besides, that you walked the other day, you might be able to walk
to Dunmoor school. It is not far, if you were only st