he company.

"Where have you been, Harry?" said his father in an annoyed tone as his
son entered the office. "You don't seem to realize how much there is to
do just now."

"Looking up Ranald, father," said Harry, cheerfully.

"Ah, the young man from Glengarry?" said Mr. St. Clair, rising. "I am
glad to know you, and to thank you in person for your prompt courage in
saving my daughter."

"Lucky dog!" groaned the lieutenant, in an undertone to Maimie.

Mr. St. Clair spoke to Ranald of his father and his uncle in words of
highest appreciation, and as Ranald listened, the reckless and hard look
which had been gathering ever since his meeting with Maimie passed away,
and his face became earnest and touched with a tender pride.

"I hear about you frequently from my sister, Mr. Macdonald--or shall
I say Ranald?" said Mr. St. Clair, kindly. "She apparently thinks
something of you."

"I am proud to think so," replied Ranald, his face lighting up as he
spoke; "but every one loves her. She is a wonderful woman, and good."

"Yes," said Mr. St. Clair, "that's it; wonderful and good."

Then Maimie drew nearer. "How is auntie?" she said. "What a shame not to
have asked before!"

"She was very well last fall," said Ranald, looking keenly into Maimie's
face; "but she is working too hard at the meetings."

"Meetings!" exclaimed Harry.

"Aye, for a year and more she has been at them every night till late."

"At meetings for a year! What meetings?" cried Harry, astonished.

"Oh, Harry, you know about the great revival going on quite well," said
Maimie.

"Oh, yes. I forgot. What a shame! What is the use of her killing herself
that way?"

"There is much use," said Ranald, gravely. "They are making bad men
good, and the whole countryside is new, and she is the heart of it all."

"I have no doubt about that," said Mr. St. Clair. "She will be the head
and heart and hands and feet."

"You're just right, governor," said Harry, warmly. "There is no woman
living like Aunt Murray."

There was silence for a few moments. Then Mr. St. Clair said suddenly:
"We are in an awful fix here. Not a man to be found that we can depend
upon for book-keeper, clerk, or checker."

Harry coughed slightly.

"Oh, of course, Harry is an excellent book-keeper," Harry bowed low;
"while he is at it," added Mr. St. Clair.

"Very neat one," murmured the lieutenant.

"Now, father, do not spoil a fine compliment in that way," cried Harry.

"But n