l--indeed not very desirable--in one so young;
and there was danger, all the greater because she was quite unconscious
of it, that it might degenerate into something different from an humble
yet earnest self-reliance. But there was nothing of that as yet, and
all the little household rejoiced together.

The spinning too had prospered. In the mornings and evenings, and on
rainy days, the wheel had been busy; and now the yarn, dyed and ready,
lay in the house of weaver McLean, waiting to be woven into heavy cloth
for the boys; and the flannel for shirts and gowns would not be long
behind. So Shenac made a pause, and took time to breathe, as Hamish
said.

And, really, with a plentiful harvest gathered safely in, there seemed
little danger of want; and Shenac's thoughts were more hopeful than
anxious when she looked forward. The mother was more cheerful, too,
than she had been since the father's death. She was always cheerful
now, when matters went smoothly and regularly among them. It was only
when vexations arose, when Dan was restless or inclined to be
rebellious, or when the children stood in need of anything which they
could not get, or when she fancied that the affairs of the farm were not
going on well, that she grieved over the past or fretted for the
home-coming of Allister. The little ones went to school again after the
harvest--the little boys and Flora; and altogether matters seemed to
promise to move smoothly on, and so the mother was content.

There was one thing that troubled the mother and Shenac too. The
harvest-work had been hard on Hamish, and in the haste and eagerness of
the busy time Shenac had not been so mindful of him as she might have
been, and he suffered for it afterwards; and it grieved them all that
his voice should be so seldom heard as it was among them, for Hamish
never complained. The more he suffered, the more quiet he grew. It was
not bodily pain alone with which he struggled on in silence. It was
something harder to bear--a sense of helplessness and uselessness, a
fear of becoming a burden when there was so much to bear already. And,
worse than even this, there was the knowledge that there lay no bright
future before him, as there might lie before the rest. He must always
be a helpless cripple. He could have no hope beyond the weary round of
suffering which fell to his lot day by day. What the others did with a
will, with a sense of power and pleasure, was a weariness to