he was bowing over a
beautiful, jewelled hand and a pair of dark eyes were looking
unutterable gratitude into his, and Donald felt ashamed. He left her
as soon as was possible without seeming rude, and went home to face the
matter squarely. This man, this despicable creature who had won
Jessie's affection, was playing with her. He was amusing himself
making love to the little country girl while this haughty young queen
held his heart. Donald was torn by conflicting emotions. Should he
write to Jessie and tell her? He was too sorely hurt to do that,
besides she would not listen to him. Should he write to John Egerton
and tell him in a few scorching words what he thought of him? In the
end he did neither, and two in Glenoro who expected to hear from him
wondered at his silence.

Miss Weir-Huntley found young Mr. McDonald a difficult puzzle. She
wanted to show her gratitude to the young man who had saved Jack's
life, but this strange youth would have none of her favours. He
refused coldly all her invitations. Donald could not be friendly
towards John Egerton's betrothed; Jessie's cry was still ringing in his
ears. The young lady gave him up at last, concluding that he must be a
boor in spite of his fine appearance and his courage. Only once was
she able to show him any attention. She was driving home in her
carriage when she came upon Donald crossing the campus. She insisted
upon his taking the seat at her side as far as his boarding-house. As
Donald stepped from the carriage and stood on the sidewalk bowing his
thanks very gravely, Allan Fraser appeared at the street door. That
young man was profoundly impressed.

"My eye!" he gasped, watching the elegant equipage disappear down the
street, "the Prince o' Wales and all the royal family! I say, Don, is
that the girl little Deane says is all gone on you? Who is she,
anyway?"

Donald turned his back upon him in disgust. "Oh, shut up, will you?"
he cried, slamming the door in his friend's face.

Allan uttered a long whistle. "Hello! it's serious, all right," he
said to himself. "Christmas, but isn't she a daisy! I'm glad he's got
over mooning for that little Hamilton flirt, anyway!"

XII

JESSIE

The first great January snowfall was heralded by a leaden sky and a
surly looking sunrise, and early in the forenoon down came the white
flakes, thick and fast, whirling this way and that, until the valley
and the surrounding hills lay pure and