erless; but she had wearied and vexed herself, taking all the weight
of the burden, just as if there had been no promise given, no help made
sure.

It would have been quite different now. Even failure would have brought
no such burden as had come with a sense of success before, because of
her sure and certain knowledge that all that concerned her was safe in
the best and most loving care.

And, with Allister between her and the summer's work, she had no need to
trouble herself. Every day had strengthened her trust in him, not only
as a loving brother, but as a wise man and a good farmer; and many a
time she laughed merrily to herself as Dan's foolish words about her not
wishing to give place to Allister came to her mind. She could never
tell him or any one else how blessed was the sense of relief and peace
which his being at home gave her. She awoke every morning with the
restful feeling fresh in her heart. There was no half-conscious
planning about ways and means before her eyes were open; no shrinking
from possible encounters with Dan's idleness or wilfulness; no balancing
of possibilities as to his doing well, or doing at all, some piece of
work depending upon him.

She heard more in the song of the birds now than just the old burden,
"It is time to be at work again." It gave her quite a sense of pleasure
now and then to find herself looking over the fields with delight just
because they were fresh and green and beautiful, and not at all because
of the tons of hay or the bushels of grain which they were to yield. Of
course it was pleasant to anticipate a good harvest, and it was pleasant
to know that there were wider fields to harvest this year, and that the
barns would be full to overflowing. It did not in the least lessen the
pleasure to know that this year success would not be due to her.
Indeed, her pride in Allister's work was quite as great as it ever had
been in her own, and the pleasure had fewer drawbacks. She could speak
of it and triumph in it, and did so with Hamish and Shenac Dhu, and
sometimes with Allister himself.

She was happy, too, in a half-conscious coming back to the thoughts and
enjoyments of the time before their troubles had overtaken them. She
was very young still, quite young enough to grow light-hearted and
mirthful; and if her mother had been well, it would truly have seemed
like the old happy days again.

Not that she had very much leisure even now. She did not go to the