rom her pocket a piece of knitting. It was a shawl
twelve yards round, yet of such exquisite texture that she drew it
easily through a wedding ring. Beautiful it was as the most beautiful
lace, and the folds of fine wool fell infinitely softer than any fold
of fine flax could do. It was a marvelous piece of handiwork, and Dr.
Balloch praised it highly.

"I am going to send it to the Countess of Zetland," she said. "I have
no doubt she will send me as many orders as I can fill. Each shawl is
worth L7, and I can also do much coarser work, which I shall sell at
the Foy."

"Would thou not rather work for me than for the Countess?"

"Thou knowest I would, ten thousand times rather. But how can I work
for thee?"

"What is there, Margaret, on the long table under the window?"

"There is a large pile of newspapers and magazines and books."

"That is so. None of these have I been able to read, because my sight
has failed me very much lately. Yet I long to know every word that is
in them. Wilt thou be eyes to an old man who wishes thee only well,
Margaret? Come every day, when the weather and thy health permits, and
read to me for two hours, write my letters for me, and do me a message
now and then, and I will cheerfully pay thee L50 a year."

"I would gladly do all this without money, and think the duty most
honorable."

"Nay, but I will pay thee, for that will be better for thee and for
me."

Now all good work is good for far more than appears upon its surface.
The duties undertaken by Margaret grew insensibly and steadily in
beneficence and importance. In the first place, the effect upon her
own character was very great. It was really two hours daily study of
the finest kind. It was impossible that the books put into her hand
could be read and discussed with a man like Dr. Balloch without
mental enlargement. Equally great and good was the moral effect of the
companionship. Her pen became the pen of a ready writer, for the old
clergyman kept up a constant correspondence with his college
companions, and with various learned societies.

About three months after this alliance began, the doctor said one day,
"Thou shalt not read to me this morning, for I want thee to carry some
wine and jelly to old Neill Brock, and when thou art there, read to
him. Here is a list of the Psalms and the Epistles that will be the
best for him." And Margaret came back from her errand with a solemnly
happy light upon her face. "It was a bl