and good you are! I'm afraid I am not worthy
o' your love!"

"Vera likely you are not. Few brothers love their sisters as they
ought to. It willna be lang before you'll do like the lave o' them,
and put some strange lass before me."

"There's nae lass living that can ever be to me what you hae been, and
are. You hae been mother and sister baith, to me."

"Dear lad, I love thee with a' my heart. All that is mine, is thine,
for thy use and help, and between thee and me the word and the bond
are the same thing."

Christine was much pleased because Neil unconsciously had fallen into
his Scotch dialect. She knew then that his words were spontaneous, not
of consideration, but of feeling from his very heart.

In a week the change contemplated had been fully accomplished. Neil
had become accustomed to the luxury of his new home, and was making
notable progress in the work which had brought him there.

Twice during the week Margot had been made royally happy by large
baskets of wonderful flowers and fruit, from the Ballister gardens.
They were brought by the Ballister gardener, and came with Neil's love
and name, but Margot had some secret thoughts of her own. She
suspected they were the result of a deeper and sweeter reason than a
mere admiration for her wonderful little garden among the rocks; but
she kept such thoughts silent in her heart. One thing she knew well,
that if Christine were twitted on the subject, she would hate Angus
Ballister, and utterly refuse to see him. So she referred to the gifts
as entirely from Neil, and affected a little anxiety about their
influence on Ballister.

"I hope that young man isna thinking," she said, "that his baskets o'
flowers and fruit is pay enough for Neil's service."

"Mither, he promised to pay Neil."

"To be sure. But I didna hear o' any fixed sum. Some rich people hae a
way o' giving sma' favors, and forgetting standing siller."

"He seemed a nice young man, Mither, and he did admire your garden. I
am sure he has told Neil to send the flowers because you loved
flowers. When folk love anything, they like others who love as they
do. Mebbe they who love flowers hae the same kind and order o' souls.
You ken if a man loves dogs, he is friendly at once wi' a stranger who
loves dogs; and there's the Domine, who is just silly anent auld
coins--copper, siller or gold--he cares not, if they're only auld
enough. Nannie Grant, wha keeps his house, told Katie Tweedie that he
took