isits were rather unreasonably lengthened. Archie she never addressed
but in terms of the deepest commiseration. At every visit she saw, or
seemed to see, that he was changing for the worse; and "poor, helpless
bairn!" or "poor pining laddie!" were the most cheerful names she gave
him. Her melancholy anecdotes of similar cases, and her oft-repeated
fears that "he would never see the month of June," vexed and troubled
Lilias greatly. At first they troubled Archie too; but he soon came not
to heed them; and one day, when she was in a more than usually doleful
mood, wondering what Lilias would do without him, and whether it would
save his life if his leg were cut off, he quite offended her by laughing
in her face.

"To think of me wasting good breath sympathising with you!" she
exclaimed. "No, no! You're not so near heaven as I thought you.
You're none too good to bide in this world a while yet. To think of the
laddie laughing at me!"

CHAPTER FIVE.

SUMMER DAYS AT KIRKLANDS.

And so the winter passed away, and the spring came again,--the sunshine
and showers of April, more than renewing the delight of the children's
first weeks in Kirklands. They had never been in the country in the
early spring before; and even "bonny Glen Elder," in the prime of
summer, had no wonders such as revealed themselves day by day to their
unaccustomed eyes. The catkins on the willows, the gradual swelling of
the hawthorn-buds, the graceful tassels of the silver birch, were to
them a beauty and a mystery. The gradual change of brown fields to a
living green, as the tender blades of the new-sown grain sprang up, was
wondrous too. The tiny mosses on the rocks, the ferns hidden away from
other eyes, were searched for and rejoiced over. No wild flower by the
wayside, no bird or butterfly, no new development of life in any form,
but won from them a joyful greeting.

And so there were again the pleasant wanderings among hills and glens,
and the pleasanter restings by the burn-side. But they were not so
frequent now, for Lilias' life was a very busy one, and she could not,
even if she had wished, have laid aside the duties she had taken upon
herself. But her freedom was all the sweeter when her duties were done;
and seldom a day passed without an hour or two of bright sunshine and
fresh air, and never before had the world seemed half so beautiful.

And Lilias had another source of happiness, better than birds or flowers
or sun