th made no answer, for the sound of the bairns' voices came in
at the open door, and in a minute Marian entered.

"Where have you been, dear? I fear you have wearied yourself," said
Janet, tenderly.

"We have only been down at Mr Snow's barn watching the threshing. But,
indeed, I have wearied myself." And sitting down on the floor at
Janet's feet, she laid her head upon her lap. A kind, hard hand was
laid on the bright hair of the bonniest of a' the bairns.

"You mustna sit down here, my dear. Lie down on the sofa and rest
yourself till the tea be ready. Have you taken your bottle to-day?"

Marian made her face the very picture of disgust.

"Oh! Janet, I'm better now. I dinna need it. Give it to Graeme. She
looks as if she needed something to do her good. What ails you,
Graeme?"

"My dear," remonstrated Janet, "rise up when I bid you; and go to the
sofa, and I'll go up the stair for the bottle."

Marian laid herself wearily down. In a moment Mrs Nasmyth reappeared
with a bottle and spoon in one hand, and a pillow in the other, and when
the bitter draught was fairly swallowed, Marian was laid down and
covered and caressed with a tenderness that struck Graeme as strange;
for though Janet loved them all well, she was not in the habit of
showing her tenderness by caresses. In a little, Marian slept. Janet
did not resume her work immediately, but sat gazing at her with eyes as
full of wistful tenderness as ever a mother's could have been. At
length, with a sigh, she turned to her basket again.

"Miss Graeme," said she, in a little, "I dinna like to hear you speak
that way about changes, as though they did not come from God, and as
though He hadna a right to send them to His people when He pleases."

"I canna help it, Janet. No change that can come to us can be for the
better."

"That's true, but we must even expect changes that are for the worse;
for just as sure as we settle down in this world content, changes will
come. You mind what the Word says, `As an eagle stirreth up her nest.'
And you may be sure, if we are among the Lord's children, He'll no leave
us to make a portion of the rest and peace that the world gives. He is
kinder to us than we would be to ourselves."

A restless movement of the sleeper by her side, arrested Janet's words,
and the old look of wistful tenderness came back into her eyes as she
turned toward her. Graeme rose, and leaning over the arm of the sofa,
kissed her so