ice in the spring were of the slimmest sort; nevertheless, he
walked very straight, and held up his head with an air of pride, as
though he owned the whole earth.

But his exultation did not last long. The next morning Miss Ella Anne
Long handed him a letter; it was in Rosalie's handwriting. He tore it
open on the street, not being able to wait till he reached home. It
was merely a note, very short and very merry, telling how she had just
returned from New York, and in a brief postscript, crowded in at the
bottom, she announced her engagement to Guy Blackburn.

CHAPTER XIII

THE TREASURE-BOOK

And yet, O God, I know not how to fail!
Within my heart still burns an unquenched fire,
Like Israel of old I must prevail,
Or failing, still reach on to something higher.
They counted _Him_ a failure when He trod
The slopes of Calvary that led to God!
--HELENA COLEMAN.

All winter the eldest orphan's reformed conduct had been the subject of
joyous wonder on the part of his parents. Hannah was of the opinion
that the boy had been converted at Mr. Scott's series of special
meetings at Christmas time, but Jake, having been a boy himself, shook
his head, and said it was likely just a spell he had taken with the
cold weather, and it would work off when the summer came, like Joey's
whooping-cough. But, strange to say, Tim went no more abroad with Davy
Munn on lawless expeditions. Sawed-Off Wilmott and the young Lochinvar
from Glenoro came regularly, on alternate evenings, to see Ella Anne
Long, and never found ropes tied across the gate, nor whips nor
lap-robes missing, as in Tim's unregenerate days. Even Miss Weir
testified that sometimes he would not do anything particularly
outrageous in school for a week at a time. The truth was that the
eldest orphan had neither time nor inclination for childish mischief.
Mentally, he had grown up. He dwelt no more in the common walks of
humanity, but in the land of romance. For one who consorted with
heroes, fought great battles, and performed mighty deeds of valor,
childish pranks had no interest. He cared now for nothing in the world
but to read all day long, and half the night; to read anything and
everything, from the hair-raising cowboy tales Davy Munn loaned him, to
the ponderous histories from the minister's book-shelf. Through this
selfsame book-shelf the minister had become one of Tim's closest
friends, and might have made a pa