lady say what she thinks!"

"Oh, yes, or a boy either! He likes me to say what I think! He says we
can't get at each other without. And do you know--he obeys me
sometimes!"

Arctura glanced a keen question at the boy.

"It is quite true!" said Davie, while Donal listened smiling. "Last
winter, for days together--not all day, you know: I had to obey him
most of the time! but at certain times, I was as sure of Mr. Grant
doing as I told him, as he is now of me doing as he tells me."

"What times were those?" asked Arctura, thinking to hear of some odd
pedagogic device.

"When I was teaching him to skate!" answered Davie, in a triumph of
remembrance. "He said I knew better than he there, and so he would obey
me. You wouldn't believe how splendidly he did it, Arkie--out and out!"
concluded Davie, in a tone almost of awe.

"Oh, yes, I would believe it--perfectly!" said Arctura.

Donal suddenly threw an arm round each of them, and pulled them down
sitting. The same instant a fierce blast burst upon the roof. He had
seen the squall whitening the sea, and looking nearer home saw the tops
of the trees between streaming level towards the castle. But seated
they were in no danger.

"Hark!" said Arctura again; "there it is!"

They all heard the wailing cry of the ghost-music. But while the blast
continued they dared not pursue their hunt. It kept on in fits and
gusts till the squall ceased--as suddenly almost as it had burst. The
sky cleared, and the sun shone as a March sun can. But the blundering
blasts and the swan-shot of the flying hail were all about still.

"When the storm is upon us," remarked Donal, as they rose from their
crouching position, "it seems as if there never could be sunshine more;
but our hopelessness does not keep back the sun when his hour to shine
is come."

"I understand!" said Arctura: "when one is miserable, misery seems the
law of being; and in the midst of it dwells some thought which nothing
can ever set right! All at once it is gone, broken up and gone, like
that hail-cloud. It just looks its own foolishness and vanishes."

"Do you know why things so often come right?" said Donal. "--I would
say always come right, but that is matter of faith, not sight."

Arctura did not answer at once.

"I think I know what you are thinking," she said, "but I want to hear
you answer your own question."

"Why do things come right so often, do you think, Davie?" repeated
Donal.

"Is it," returned D