lley rumbled up to the door, Sandy
McLachlan was there, stick in hand. He was a queer but intelligent old
man, who lived in a little house on the edge of the woods where the
Short Cut met the highway. He was quite alone in the world, except for
his little grand-daughter Eppie. Elizabeth knew Eppie well, as they
were about the same age, and in the same class in Sunday school. As
she alighted, she caught sight of the little girl in her coarse
homespun dress and heavy boots hiding shyly behind her grandfather. At
the sight of Elizabeth her face broke into a radiant smile. This was
her one schoolmate who was always kind to poor Eppie.

But, as Elizabeth hurried up the steps towards her, she almost stumbled
over Trip who came cowering behind. There were only two or three
things in the world that Trip was afraid of, and Martin's big yellow
dog was one of them. This terrible brute was slowly approaching with
gleaming teeth, bristling yellow hair, and terrible inward rumblings.
Scarcely knowing what she did, Elizabeth caught up the shivering little
terrier and rolled him under her pinafore. She looked about
distractedly for Charles Stuart, but both he and John had driven the
horses to the sheds. Elizabeth slowly approached the door in an agony
of uncertainty. It would be dreadfully wicked to take a dog into
church, even if one could pass old Sandy, but it was impossible to
leave Trip out there to be rent in pieces by those terrible yellow
jaws. She pressed behind Sarah Emily, striving to hide the squirming
little bundle beneath her pinafore.

"Are ye goin' to take him in?" whispered Eppie in dismay.

"I--I don't know what to do," faltered Elizabeth. "Brag 'll kill him
if I leave him here--and your grandpa won't let him in."

"Grandaddy 'll not be saying anything," whispered Eppie. "Jist be
slippin' in by."

As they approached the big knotted stick, Miss Gordon, leading Jamie by
the hand, passed in ahead of them. Sandy lowered his stick and made a
profound bow. He had been heard many times to declare that Miss Gordon
was the finest lady he had seen since he left the Old Country, and he
knew a lady when he saw one. Miss Gordon was aware of Sandy's opinion,
and as usual bowed to him most graciously, and under cover of her entry
Elizabeth, breathless with dread of the fell deed she was committing,
slipped inside and up to her class seat, still holding the trembling
little dog beneath her pinafore.

There wer