aughter that week than she had heard in Canada in all
her life before. As for them, they wondered a little at her shyness and
her quiet ways; but they were tolerant, for boys, of her fancies and
failings, and beguiled her into sharing many a ramble and frolic with
them.

Once she went to her sister's school, which was three miles from the
Nesbitt farm, and once she spent a day with Mrs Nesbitt at old Mrs
Grey's, and they brought little Allie home with them. The little blind
girl was a constant wonder and delight. She was as cheerful and happy
as were any of the merry Nesbitt boys; and if there was less noise among
them when she was one of the circle, there was no less mirth. To say
that she was patient under her affliction would not be saying enough;
she did not seem to feel her blindness as an affliction, so readily and
sweetly did she accept the means of happiness yet within her reach. To
Christie, the gentle, merry little creature was a constant rebuke, and
all the more that she knew the little one was unconscious of the lesson
she was teaching.

There was no service in the kirk the next Sabbath, so, instead of going
home as usual, Effie, for Christie's sake, accepted Mrs Nesbitt's
invitation to spend it at her house. She saw with delight the returning
colour on her little sister's cheek, and noticed the change for the
better that had taken place in her health and spirits, and inwardly she
rejoiced over the success of her plan. "She shall have another week at
this pleasant place, if possible--and more than that." And she sighed
to think how much the poor girl might have to try both health and
spirits when these pleasant weeks should be passed. But she did not let
Christie hear her sigh. She had only smiles and happy words for her.

It was a very pleasant Sabbath for Christie--the very pleasantest she
could remember to have passed. She could not agree with Charlie Nesbitt
that it was "a little too long." She enjoyed every moment of it. She
enjoyed the early walk, the reading, the singing, and the walk to John
Nesbitt's Sabbath-class in the afternoon. It was rather far--three
miles, nearly--and the walk tired her a little. But all the more for
that did she enjoy her rest on the low sofa after tea.

It was a very pleasant place, that parlour of Mrs Nesbitt's--so neat,
so cool, so quiet. There was not much to distinguish it from other
parlours in Laidlaw; and, in general, they were prim and plain enoug