have the thing settled!"

"As you please, my lady! I will go at once. There is one leaning
against the garden-wall, not far from the bottom of the tower."

"If you do not mind the trouble!"

"I will come and help," said Davie.

"You mustn't leave lady Arctura. I am not sure if I can get it up the
stair; I am afraid it is too long. If I cannot, we will haul it up as
we did the coal."

He went, and the cousins sat down to wait his return. It was a cold
evening, but Arctura was well wrapt up, and Davie was hardy. They sat
at the foot of the chimney-stack, and began to talk.

"It is such a long time since you told me anything, Arkie!" said the
boy.

"You do not need me now to tell you anything: you have Mr. Grant! You
like him much better than ever you did me!"

"You see," said Davie, thoughtfully, and making no defence against her
half-reproach, "he began by making me afraid of him--not that he meant
to do it, I think! he only meant that I should do what he told me: I
was never afraid of you, Arkie!"

"I was much crosser to you than Mr. Grant, I am sure!"

"Mr. Grant is never cross to me; and if ever you were, I've forgotten
it, Arkie. I only remember that I was not good to you. I am sorry for
it now when I lie awake in bed; but I say to myself you forgive me, and
go to sleep."

"What makes you think I forgive you, Davie?"

"Because I love you."

This was not very logical, and set Arctura thinking. She did not
forgive the boy because he loved her; but the boy's love to her might
make him sure she forgave him! Love is its own justification, and sees
itself in all its objects: forgiveness is an essential belonging of
love, and must be seen where love is seen.

"Are you fond of my brother?" asked Davie, after a pause.

"Why do you ask me?"

"Because they say you and he are going to be married some day, yet you
don't seem to care much to be together."

"It is all nonsense!" replied Arctura, reddening. "I wish people would
not talk foolishness!"

"Well, I do think he's not so fond of you as of Eppy!"

"Hush! hush! you must not speak of such thing."

"I saw him once kiss Eppy, and I never saw him kiss you!"

"No, indeed!"

"Is it right of Forgue, if he's going to marry you, to kiss
Eppy?--That's what I want to know!"

"He is not going to marry me."

"He would, if you told him you wished it. Papa wishes it."

"How do you know that?"

"From many thing. Once I heard him say, 'Afterwards, when the