he mist, she was
painfully reminded of the time when he used to watch the shadow of the
spire coming slowly round to the yew-tree by the kirk-yard gate.

But there were no days now so long and sad as those days had been. The
memory of their last great grief was often present with them; but the
sense of orphanhood grew less bitter, day by day, as time went on.
Archie was not quite strong and well yet, but he was far better than he
had been for many a long month; and Lilias' feeling of anxiety on his
account began to wear away. Gradually they found for themselves new
employments and amusements, and their life fell into a quiet and
pleasant routine again.

A new source of interest and enjoyment was opened to them in the return
of Mrs Blair's scholars after the harvest-holidays were over. There
were between fifteen and twenty girls, and a few boys, whose ages varied
from six to twelve or fourteen. They were taught reading, writing, and
the catechism; and some of the elder girls were taught to knit and sew.

Archie used sometimes to be weary of the hum of voices and the unvaried
routine of the lessons; but Lilias never was. To her it was a constant
pleasure to assist her aunt. Indeed, after a time some of the classes
were entirely given up to her care. She had never been much with other
children, but her gentle tones and quiet womanly ways gave her a control
over them; and even the roughest and most unruly of the village children
learnt to yield her a ready obedience.

Mrs Blair had striven to do faithfully the work she had undertaken of
instructing these ignorant children; but at her age the formation of new
habits was by no means easy. The constant attention to trifles which
the occupation required was at times inexpressibly irksome to her; and
the relief which the assistance of Lilias gave her was proportionally
great.

"I'm sure I know not how I ever got on without my lassie," she said, one
day, after watching with wonder and delight the patience with which she
arranged the little girls' work,--a task for which patience was greatly
needed. "I shall grow to be a useless body if I let you do all that is
to be done in this way. Are you not weary with your day's work, Lilias,
my dear?"

"Weary!" said Lilias, laughing. "I don't need to be weary, for all I
have done. It's only play to hear the bairns read and spell. I like it
very much."

"But it's not play to take out and put into shape, and to sew as you