tedly.

The walks to church were not altogether pleasant ones for Marjory, as a
rule. Her best clothes were always rather a worry to her, and she was
obliged to wear gloves. Lisbeth was in the habit of seeing them start
off. She took great pride in the doctor's appearance on the "Sawbath,"
and surveyed him critically from the crown of his shining silk hat to
the sole of his well-polished boots. She never failed to set Marjory's
hat straight, to give sundry little pats to her frock, and to what she
called "sort" her hair. Marjory wore it in a plait all the week, but on
Sunday it was allowed to hang at its will, and Lisbeth loved to see the
wavy black mass which reached to the girl's waist, though she would not
for worlds have told Marjory so, in case it might encourage her in the
sin of vanity!

Another bugbear of Marjory's was the little bag which Lisbeth always
insisted upon her carrying. Everybody had a bag for their books, she
said, so Marjory must have one too; and Sunday after Sunday in they
went, with a clean handkerchief and, it must be confessed, a sweetie.
These sweeties were kept in a bottle in the study, of all places. It was
never allowed to get empty, and Marjory often wondered if the doctor
took them to church too. There was a certain moment, when the
congregation was settling itself to listen to the sermon and there was a
general rustling of clothes and clattering of feet, when the sweetie
found its way to Marjory's mouth. She would begin by determining to make
it last as long as the sermon, but, alas! it would become thinner and
thinner, and finally disappear altogether before Mr. Mackenzie had got
to "thirdly."

Besides the drawbacks of the best clothes and the bag there were
usually many admonitions from her uncle, such as, "Marjory, turn out
your toes. Hold up your head, child. Turn out your toes, I say," or, "O
Marjory, do not swing that bag"--all very necessary, no doubt, but they
had the effect of making the girl self-conscious. Thinking about her
head, she would forget about her toes, and _vice versa_, and her uncle
would be apt to think that it was obstinacy on her part and to tell her
so, and then there would be sullen silence till the church door was
reached. But to-day it was not so. Half-way to church they joined the
Foresters, and Marjory and Blanche walked together behind their elders,
so that their deportment could not be criticised.

Blanche gave Marjory the cheerful news that as ther