iter in the old shanty, had been fed
and the tables were all cleared away, Scotty deserted Monteith, and
once more took up his station on the window sill where he could catch
glimpses of Isabel's golden head through the crowd. He could see she
was the object of many admiring glances; the MacDonald girls stood
apart whispering wondering remarks concerning the beauty of her velvet
gown, and even Betty Lauchie seemed shy of her old playmate.
Nevertheless, when, upon spying him in his corner, Isabel came again
and seated herself beside him, Scotty forgot all differences between
them and blossomed out into friendliness under the light of her eyes.
For she had clear, honest eyes that looked beneath the rough exterior
of her country friends and recognised the true, leal hearts beneath.
Yes, she was the same old Isabel, Scotty declared to himself, and
something more, something he hardly dared think of yet.

He sat and chatted freely with her of all that had happened since they
had last met, her life in a ladies' boarding school and his progress
under Monteith's instruction, and he found that with all her schooling
he was far ahead of her in book knowledge. Then there were past
experiences to recall; the playhouse they had built beneath the Silver
Maple, the mud pies they had made down by the edge of the swamp, the
excursions down the Birch Creek, and the part they had played in poor
Callum's sad romance.

"And what are you going to be, Scotty?" she asked. "Don't you remember
it was always either an Indian or a soldier, a 'Black Watcher' you used
to call it? You ought to go to college, you must be more than prepared
for it since you've learned so much from Mr. Monteith."

Scotty's eyes glowed. A college course was the dream of his life,
sleeping or waking. But he shook his head.

"I'd like it," he said, trying to keep the gloom out of his voice, "but
there's not much chance."

"Oh, dear," sighed the girl, "things seem to be all wrong in this
world. There's Harold now; Uncle Walter fairly begged him to go to
college, but he went only one year."

"Where is your cousin now?"

"He's in the English navy, and poor Uncle frets for him. He's an
officer too. I can't imagine Hal making anybody mind him. I always
used to be the 'party in power,' as Uncle Walter used to say when Hal
was home."

Scotty laughed. "I expect he'd have a hard time if he didn't let you
have your own way," he said slyly.

"Now, Scotty, you kn