oughts
for long together; he loved her as his own; and yet Marjory was not
happy--she was lonely, she did not understand her uncle and misjudged
him, and he found her cold and unresponsive. There was something wanting
between them; both were conscious of this want, yet neither knew how to
supply it and so mend matters.

CHAPTER II.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

"Have hope, though clouds environ now,
And gladness hides her face in scorn;
Put thou the shadow from thy brow--
No night but has its morn."--SCHILLER.

Things had come to a climax that afternoon. Marjory had driven by
herself to the village to get some things that Lisbeth wanted, and also
to buy some stamps for her uncle. Peter usually accompanied her on these
expeditions, but to-day he was busy in the vine-house, and excused
himself from attending upon his little mistress. She was quite
accustomed to driving, however, and Brownie, the pony, was a very
steady, well-behaved little animal, and a great pet of Marjory's; so she
started off in good spirits, Silky running beside the cart as usual. She
did her errands in the village, finishing up at the post office, which
was also the bakery and the most important building in the place. Mrs.
Smylie, the baker's wife and postmistress, served her with the stamps,
and Marjory was about to say good-afternoon and leave the shop, when
Mrs. Smylie opened a door and called out,--

"Mary Ann, here's Hunter's Marjory; maybe ye'd like to see her." And
turning to Marjory, she explained, "Mary Ann's just hame frae the schule
for a wee bit."

The Smylies were the most important people in the village of
Heathermuir. Their mills supplied the countryside with flour, and their
bakery was the only one of any size in the district. They had built
their own house; it had a garden attached to it and a greenhouse; and,
to crown all, their only child Mary Ann was to be brought up as a lady.
With this object in view, the ambitious parents had sent the girl to a
"Seminary for Young Ladies" at Morristown, some twenty miles away, and
were greatly pleased with the result, feeling that Mary Ann was really
quite a lady. That young person was delighted to come home and be
worshipped by her admiring parents; and their idea that a real lady
should never soil her fingers by household work, or indeed by work of
any kind, suited her very well.

Mrs. Smylie, bursting with pride as her daughter appeared, watched the
meeting between the t