nows there's company when the dogs bark
and he'll hurry in."

While they waited Auntie Flora took Christina into the parlour to show
her a new song-book Gavin had brought home the Saturday previous.

Christina's fascinated gaze went around the wonderful framed wreaths on
the wall, one made of cotton-batting flowers, another of coloured
feathers and the most interesting one fashioned of flowers made from
hair. Auntie Flora went over each blossom tenderly. This rose at the
top was made of mother's hair. Wasn't her hair beautiful and soft and
shining? Nobody in the family had hair like mother's. And the one
just beside it of darker grey, was father's. Father's hair was rich
and beautiful too. The dark brown one was Janet's and the fair one
Elspie's.

"And ye can tell whose is the mouse-coloured one," said Auntie Janet
teasingly.

"Aye," said Auntie Flora. "They're never done talkin' about my
mouse-coloured hair; but they'll soon have to stop because it's gettin'
white!" she added gaily.

And the next flower that beautiful brown, was made from Duncan's, the
only brother who died when he was in his first year in college. He was
to have been a minister. Mother had saved his curls from the time he
was just a wee laddie. Duncan had died twenty years ago but his
sisters could not yet speak of him without tears.

Then they brightened when Flora pointed out the next and the last--that
shiny black bit, it couldn't be anybody's but Gavie's; hair as black as
that. Did Christina mind what beautiful curly hair he had when they
got him first? And such a time as they had getting him to let it grow
long enough to get a piece for the wreath. It was just getting nice
once, but the boys teased him about it at school, and what did he do
but get the shears one night and cut it all off that close that he
nearly cut the skin, and a sight the rascal was, with bare white
patches all over his black head!

But Janet saved what was cut and they managed to make this little
flower and put it in the wreath next to Duncan's. Gavie was just such
another boy as Duncan was, and the Lord had been good indeed to give
him to them in their old age.

Gavin did not appear quite so soon as expected. He came up slowly from
the barn, and spent a very long time over the little wash-bench at the
wood-shed door. At last he came in, fondling the dogs that kept
circling about him, and shook hands with Christina very hurriedly, as
though he had