tent, or with
shrill outbursts of eager delight, in the enjoyment of pleasures that
were all of Allie's giving. And so what could Allie do but come out of
her own sorrowful musings and smile and rejoice in the child's joy, and
find a new happiness in the child's love.

There was much to be done in the house, but there was no day so busy or
so full of care but that Allison could manage to give the child a blink
of sunshine if the day were fair. There was much to do out of the house
also, what with the cows and the garden and the glebe. Cripple Sandy,
who was the minister's man-of-all-work, had all that he could do, and
more, in the narrow fields. So Allison rose early and milked her cows,
and led them out herself, to no wide pasture, but to one of those fields
where she tethered them first and flitted them later in the morning when
they had cropped their little circle bare. And both at the tethering
and the flitting Marjorie assisted when the day was fine, and it was a
possible thing. She woke when Allison rose, and being first
strengthened by a cup of warm milk and a bit of bread, and then wrapped
warmly up in a plaid to keep her safe from the chill air of the morning,
she was ready for a half-hour of perfect enjoyment. When that was over,
she was eager for another cup of milk and another sleep, which lasted
till breakfast was over and her brothers had all gone to school.

And when the time for the afternoon flitting of the cows came, Marjorie
was in the field once more, sitting on a plaid while the placid
creatures were moved on, and she and Allie went home again as they came,
through the lanes in which there were so many beautiful things.

Sometimes a neighbour met them, who had something to say to the child,
and sometimes they met the bairns coming from the school. When they
came home by the longest way, as Marjorie liked best to do, they would
have a word with the schoolmistress, as she was taking the air at her
door when the labours of the day were over, and sometimes a smile and a
flower from Mrs Beaton in her garden over the way. This was the very
best summer in all her life, Marjorie told her father one day, as Allie
laid her down on her couch in the parlour again.

All this was beginning to do the child good. Even the neighbours
noticed the change after a little, and were glad also. Some of them
meant that the coming and going passed the time and contented her.
Others said that it was well that he