w what Mr. Sinclair would do with a
young man who came under his influence. Mrs. Sutherland wanted Wallace
to be a good boy, of course, she confessed with tears in her eyes, and
she trusted he would always be religious and go to church as she had
taught him, but Mr. Sinclair never seemed to know where to stop in
matters of religion, and might spoil all the worldly prospects of a
young man like Wallace. There was that young Neil Lindsay. Her
brother always said that he was the brightest young man that Orchard
Glen had ever sent out, and that he would make his mark in the world,
and Mr. Sinclair had spread his blighting influence over him and now he
was studying to be a minister and would likely go away off into some
dreadful heathen country and never be heard of again. And indeed
Orchard Glen could furnish many another instance of his undoing a
promising career. And who knew what he might do with Wallace? Of
course ministers existed for the purpose of seeing that wayward sons
kept in the path of rectitude, but they ought to know there should be
temperance in all things. For while Mrs. Sutherland wanted her son to
have sufficient religion to keep him from going wrong and doing
anything disgraceful, she certainly did not want him to have so much
that it would interfere with his getting on in the world. And Mr.
Sinclair seemed to have no notion that getting on in the world mattered
at all.

Wallace continued to be as gay and good-natured as ever in the face of
his mother's tears and his uncle's temper. He would pull her ear
playfully when she admonished him, and when Uncle Peter grew cross and
grumpy he would go off whistling up the hill to the Lindsay farm.

As for Christina her golden dreams had all come true. She had at last
obtained that one great requisite to happiness, a special cavalier of
her own, to wait upon her and do her bidding. There was no more
slipping home alone forlornly from meetings, no more coaxing John to
take her to picnic or concert, no more fear of Gavin Grant seeing her
home. And not only was her cavalier always at her side on these
occasions, but he was the beau ideal of all the girls in Orchard Glen,
as Christina was the envy. Her sweetheart was young and handsome and
gallant and gay, indeed the very Dream Knight who had lingered so long
just beyond the horizon and had ridden at last up to her door.

Mary wrote her delight in Christina's good fortune, hinting just a
little surpris