into the barn and see our wool," said Shenac
Bhan at last, when the shower was over. "And, Shenac--dark Shenac,
doleful Shenac--you are to stay and keep the lads in order till we come
back."

Shenac Dhu made a face, but let them go.

Mrs More was a pale, quiet woman, with a grave but kind manner, which
put Shenac at her ease at once, though she had not seen her since her
marriage, which was more than five years before. She had always been
very kind to the children when she lived at home, and the memory of this
gave Shenac courage to ask her help out of at least one of her
difficulties.

"How much you have grown, Shenac!" said her cousin. "I hardly think I
would have known you if I had seen you anywhere else. Yes, I think I
would have known your face anywhere. But you are a woman now, and doing
a woman's work, they tell me."

"We have all been busy this summer," said Shenac; "but our hurry is over
now for a while."

Heedless of the little pools that were shining here and there, they went
first into the garden, and then round the other buildings, and over to
the spot, still black and charred, where the house had stood. But
little was said by either of them.

"Do you like living in the city?" said Shenac at last.

"For some things I like it--for most things, indeed; but sometimes I
long for a sight of the fields and woods, more for my wee Mary's sake
than for my own."

"This is our wool," said Shenac, as they entered the barn; "I wish it
was spun."

"Shenac," said her cousin kindly, "have you not undertaken too much?
It's all very well for you to speak of Hamish and Dan, but the weight
must fall on you. I see that plainly."

But Shenac would not let her think so.

"I only do my share," said she eagerly.

"I think you could have helped them more by coming to M--- and taking a
situation. You could learn to do anything, Shenac, if you were to try."

But Shenac would not listen.

"We must keep together," said she; "and the land must be kept for
Allister. There is no fear. We shall not grow rich, but we can live,
if we bide all together and do our best."

"Shenac," persisted her cousin, "I do not want to discourage you; but
there are so many things which a girl like you ought not to do--cannot
do, indeed, without breaking your health. I know. I was the eldest at
home. I know what there is to do in a place like yours. The doctor
tells me I shall never be quite well again, because of the long st