one
the house was almost in its first condition. White paint and soap and
water, bees'-wax and turpentine, needle and thread, did wonders. On
the evening of the eleventh day, Margaret and Elga went from attic to
cellar with complete satisfaction. Every thing was spotless, every
thing was in its old place. Jan's big cushioned chair again stood on
the hearth, and little Jan took possession of it. Many a night,
wearied with play, he cuddled himself up among its cushions, and had
there his first sleep. It is easy to imagine what Margaret's thoughts
were with such a picture before her--tender, regretful, loving
thoughts most surely, for the fine shawl or stocking she was knitting
at the time was generally wet with her tears.

The day after all was in its place and settled, she went to see Dr.
Balloch. It was in the early morning when every thing was sweet, and
cool and fresh. The blue-bells and daisies were at her feet, the sea
dimpling and sparkling in the sunshine, the herring-fleet gathering
in the bay. Already the quays and streets were full of strangers, and
many a merry young fisherman with a pile of nets flung over his
shoulders passed her, singing and whistling in the fullness of his
life and hope. All of them, in some way or other, reminded her of Jan.
One carried his nets in the same graceful, nonchalant way; another
wore his cap at the same angle; a third was leaning against his oars,
just as she had seen Jan lean a hundred times.

The minister sat at his open door, looking seaward. His serene face
was full of the peace and light of holy contemplation. His right hand
was lovingly laid on the open Bible, which occupied the small table by
his side.

"Come in, Margaret," he said pleasantly. "Come in; is all well with
thee now?"

"Every thing is well. The house is in order and Snorro hath promised
to plant some berry bushes in my garden; he will plant them to-day
with the flower seeds thou gave me. The snowdrops are in bloom
already, and the pansies show their buds among the leaves."

"Dost thou know that Snorro hath left thy father?"

"He told me that he had taken John Hay's cottage, the little stone one
on the hill above my house, and that in three days he would go to the
fishing with Matthew Vale."

"Now, then, what wilt thou do with thy time? Let me tell thee, time is
a very precious gift of God; so precious that he only gives it to us
moment by moment. He would not have thee waste it."

Margaret took f