by this time, and Graeme
promised, with good heart, to do all she could to keep her father's mind
easy, and the household accounts straight.

Weeks passed on, and even before the bonny spring days had come, the
giant had let Janet go, and she was her own cheerful self again. The
letter that Harry brought in with a shout before March was over, was a
very different letter from the one that had caused Janet to shed such
tears of disappointment on that sad November, though Sandy was the
writer still. The two only intelligible items of news which the last
one had conveyed, were repeated here, and enlarged upon, with reason. A
new master had come to the school, who was taking great pains with all
the lads, and especially with Sandy, "as you will see by this letter,
mother," he wrote, "I hope it will be better worth reading than the
last."

If Mrs Smith had changed her mind, it was all for good. Janet was no
more to think of her mother as living by herself, in the lonely cot in
the glen, but farther up in another cottage, within sight of the door of
Saughless. And Sandy was to go to the school a while yet and there was
no fear but something would be found for him to do, either on the farm,
or in the garden. And so his mother was to set her heart at rest about
them.

And her heart was set at rest; and Janet sang at her work again, and
cheered or chid the bairns according as they needed, but never more,
though she had many cares, and troubles not a few, did the giant hold
her in his grasp again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"Miss Graeme," said Janet, softly opening the study-door, and looking
in. Graeme was at her side in a moment.

"Never mind putting by your book, I only want to tell you, that I'm
going up the brae to see Mrs Snow awhile. It's no' cold, and I'll take
the bairns with me. So just give a look at the fire now and then, and
have the kettle boiling gin tea time. I winna bide late."

Graeme put down her book, and hastened the preparations of the little
ones.

"I wish I could up with you, Janet. How mild and bright it is to-day."

"But your papa mustna be left to the keeping of fires, and the
entertainment of chance visitors. You winna think long with your book,
you ken, and we'll be home again before it's dark."

"Think long!" echoed Graeme. "Not if I'm left at peace with my book--I
only hope no one will come."

"My dear!" remonstrated Janet, "that's no' hospitable. I daresay if
anybody comes,