m was wrong with Callum. That old
trouble that had arisen between him and Grandaddy the first winter of
the prayer meetings had been suddenly aggravated. Scotty had heard
rumours at school, and was vaguely conscious of the cause of the
dissension. Isabel was so quick, perhaps she could help him to find
out just what was wrong and suggest a remedy.

"Yon's a queer-lookin' thing comin' over the bars, Scotty," said his
grandfather, smilingly, from his place at the doorway.

Scotty turned eagerly; yes, there was a little blue figure scrambling
hastily over the fence into the pasture-field, followed by Weaver
Jimmie, as anxious and flustered as a hen with a wayward duckling. A
joyous scream announced that she had really come.

"It's her!" shouted the boy. "It's wee Isabel!"

He darted down the hill to meet her, but Callum was there first.
Callum was on his way up from the barn, and the little blue figure flew
to him and made the rest of the journey to the house perched
triumphantly upon his broad shoulder, screaming with delight, and
calling upon Scotty, her own dear Scotty, to come and meet her.

But for all his joy, as she approached Scotty drew back shyly behind
the rosebushes. The first meeting with Isabel was something of an
embarrassment, for she always pitched herself upon him and insisted
upon kissing him, more than once sometimes, if he wasn't watchful, and
it was certainly an unseemly thing for a boy of his size to be kissed
by anybody. But the ordeal was soon over, and when they had all
rejoiced over her and measured her height against the door-frame, where
two niches showed how she and Scotty had stood last summer, and admired
her growth, and warned Scotty to take care or she would soon be as tall
as he was, the elder folk gave their attention to Weaver Jimmie and
left the children to their own devices.

As usual the Weaver was the bearer of important tidings.

"It's a fine job Tom Caldwell thinks he's got this time!" he declared
with an embarrassed hitch of one big foot over the other, and a rather
nervous glance towards Callum.

"What's that?" inquired Rory, coming up to the door with his two pails
of foaming milk. "We always like to know what our relations will be
doing," he added with a sly chuckle.

Weaver Jimmie looked more embarrassed than ever. He attacked his
whiskers and became so absorbed in their subduing that his audience
grew impatient.

"Out with it, man!" cried Callum, and thu