at ambition for her boy. And Charles Stuart was such
an orator too--it seemed too bad. She picked up the book again,
glancing through it, and thought surely Mother MacAllister must be
mistaken. It seemed such an entirely good sort of book, like
"Pilgrim's Progress," or something of that sort.

"What are you going to be?" she asked as Charles Stuart walked home
with her in the golden August, evening along Champlain's Road.

"I don't know," said the young man. "Sometimes I think I'd like to go
in for medicine. But my four years in Arts will put me hopelessly
behind John. I really haven't decided what I'll do."

"I remember you used to be divided between the ministry and veterinary
surgery," reminded Elizabeth.

He laughed. "I think there is about equal chances between them still,"
he said, and Elizabeth's older self saw he did not wish to pursue the
subject. She was very sorry for Mother MacAllister, but on the whole
she still thought Charles Stuart was wise in choosing some less
exacting profession than the ministry.

But the joyous holidays, driving over the country with John and Charles
Stuart, wandering on berry-picking tramps with Archie and Jamie, or
spending hours of adoration before the Vision, could not last forever.
Malcolm's departure after his short vacation saw the beginning of the
end. The last week of August came and Jean packed her books and went
back to her teaching, her studies, and her beloved Miss Mills. And
then September ripened into October, and college days had come.

As the day of the boys' departure approached, Elizabeth felt as though
she had come to the end of all things. Her own High School days were
over, ended in failure; she was not needed at home, she was no use away
from home, and she had a vague feeling that she was not wanted anywhere.

The night before the boys left, Charles Stuart came over to say
good-by, and before he went home Mr. Gordon led family worship. He
read the 91st Psalm, that one he always chose for the evening reading
the night before any of his loved ones left the home nest. He had read
it often by this time, but it never lost its effect upon the young
people's hearts. It made a grand farewell from the father to his
children, a promise to both of perfect security in the midst of all
dangers.

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide
under the shadow of the Almighty.... Surely He shall deliver thee from
the snare of the