the summer's work, but never quite
clear in his mind, and always struggling with some unknown power that,
against his will, kept him back from doing his part in it. Till one day
he looked into his grandfather's face with comprehending eyes, and said
weakly, but clearly:

"It must be time for the cutting of the wheat, grandfather; I have been
sick a good while, surely?"

"Ay, have you; a good while. But you are better now, the doctor says.
But never heed about the cutting of the wheat. Mark Varney has done all
that, and more. We have had a good harvest, Davie."

"Have we, grandfather?" said Davie, looking with surprise and dismay at
the tears on his grandfather's face.

"God has been good to us, laddie," said Mr Fleming, trying to speak
calmly, and then he rose and went out.

"So we've had a good harvest, have we? And Mark Varney! I wonder where
he turned up. Oh, well! it's all right I daresay--and--I'm tired
already." And he turned his head on the pillow and fell asleep.

Yes, Mark Varney had taken Davie's work into his own hand. He came over
with Mr Maxwell as soon as he heard the lad was ill. He made no formal
offer of help, but just set himself to do what was to be done. He had
all his own way about it, for Mr Fleming was too anxious to take much
heed of the work, since some one else had taken it in hand; and no one
knew better how work should be done than Mark. He had all the help he
needed, for the neighbours were glad to offer help, and give it, too, in
this time of need. The harvest was got through and the grain housed as
successfully as the hay had been before Davie, lank and stooping, crept
out over the fields of Ythan.

It was Sunday afternoon again when Katie and he went slowly down the
brae toward the cherry-trees. Their grandfather and grandmother looked
after them with loving eyes.

"The Lord is ay kind," said Mrs Fleming, and then she read the 103rd
Psalm in the old Scottish version, which she "whiles" liked to do. She
paused now and then because her voice trembled, and on some of the
verses she lingered, reading them twice over, seeking from her husband
audible assent to the comfort they gave:

"`The Lord our God is merciful,
And He is gracious,
Long-suffering, and slow to wrath,
In mercy plenteous.'

"Ay is He! as we ken well this day. And again:--

"`Such pity as a father hath
Unto his children dear,
Like pity shows the Lord to such
As worship H