e like that; I
want you both to think and to see, and you will find much happiness to
think about and many beauties to see."

Certainly Marjory's world had grown much wider and brighter by this
woman's thought. The romance and wonder of reality put before the girl
had opened up possibilities of interest in every direction to her who
was so eager to learn and so quick to see. To give an instance: it may
be remembered that in her days of loneliness Marjory had woven fairy
stories about the flowers and trees in the garden and the woods.
Knowledge had now replaced these fairy tales with facts far more
marvellous than any of her fancies had been.

These were happy hours spent in the schoolroom at Braeside. They never
became irksome to Marjory, but they made her long to see more of this
"great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world."

Two things were often in her mind at this time--the prophecy about the
dark-haired maiden, and the letter of which Mary Ann had told her. She
built many hopes upon that letter; night and day she prayed that her
father might be found and brought back to her.

The postman only came once a day to Hunters' Brae, and the letter-bag
was always taken straight to her uncle's study; so, although Marjory
watched carefully for any sign, she did not know whether a reply had
been received to that letter her uncle had sent to foreign parts.

One day, coming out of church, Mary Ann managed to whisper to her, "That
letter came back, so I expect your father's really dead."

This was a great blow to Marjory. She had hardly realized how much she
had hoped, and this bitter disappointment seemed to leave her nothing to
hope for. Still she refused to give up altogether, for there was just
the chance that the letter might not have been written to her father, as
Mary Ann had not actually seen the address on it. Marjory reasoned with
herself in this way, for she felt that her life would be strangely empty
without the hope of some day finding her father.

CHAPTER XVII.

ON THE LOCH.

"Whoever plants a seed beneath the sod
And waits to see it push away the clod,
He trusts in God."--ANON.

The months went by, and Marjory and Blanche were happy together. They
watched the spring change to summer, and the summer to autumn, with the
greatest delight. It was the first time that Blanche had seen the
delicate shoots of the snowdrops and crocuses bravely pushing their way
through the hard earth, the first tim