essed hour," she said, "surely
he is very near the kingdom."

This service once begun grew by a very natural course of events.
Margaret delighted in it. The sick loved her calm, gentle ways. She
was patient and silent, and yet sympathetic. She had that womanly
taste which naturally sets itself to make dainty dishes for those who
can not eat coarse food. In a few months the sick all through the
parish felt the soothing touch of her soft, cool hands, and became
familiar with the tones of her low, even voice, as she read aloud the
portions which Dr. Balloch usually selected for every case.

And as there is no service so gratefully remembered as that given in
sickness, Margaret Vedder gradually acquired a very sincere
popularity. It rather amazed Peter to hear such remarks as the
following: "Luke Thorkel is better, thanks to Margaret Vedder." "John
Johnson can go to the fishing with an easy mind now, Margaret Vedder
is caring for his sick wife." "The Widow Hay died last night. She
would have died ere this, but for Margaret Vedder's care."

These outside duties made her home duties sufficient to fill all her
time. She had no hours to spare for foolish repining, or morbid
sorrow. Little Jan must be taught his letters, and his clothes must be
made. Her garden, poultry and knitting kept her hands ever busy, and
though her work was much of it of that silent kind which leads to
brooding thought, she had now much of interest to fill her mind. Yet
still, and always, there was the haunting, underlying memory of Jan's
disappearance or death, keeping her life hushed and silent. To no one
did she speak of it, and it seemed strange to her that Dr. Balloch
visibly discouraged any allusion to it. Sometimes she felt as if she
must speak to Snorro about it, but Snorro kept ever a little aloof
from her. She was not very sure as to his friendship.

She thought this a little hard, for she had given him every
opportunity to understand that her own animosity was dead. She
permitted little Jan to spend nearly all his time with him, when he
was not engaged in fishing, or busy on the quays. And Snorro now spent
much of his time at home. His earnings during the fishing season more
than sufficed for his wants. Every fine day in winter he was apt to
call for little Jan, and Margaret rarely refused him the child's
company.

And little Jan dearly loved Snorro. Snorro put him in the water, and
taught him how to swim like a seal. Snorro made him a s