t it's
a very good exercise for the memory, as well as teaching me about Church
things. Sometimes Mr. Mackenzie preaches a sermon for children in the
afternoon, and then it's quite different; I could remember every word.
But the funny thing is that uncle never wants me to write them!"

"Too easy, I suppose!"

Blanche laughed again, such a joyous laugh that Marjory was infected by
it and laughed too. Blanche was a child of most unusual beauty, though
she herself seemed quite unconscious of it. Her face in repose wore an
expression of innocent loveliness which went straight to the heart. Her
skin was fair and soft, her eyes large and dark and of an indescribable
colour, neither brown nor gray, and her hair was like burnished copper,
with pretty waves in it, and the dearest little fine tendrils curling
about her neck and ears. Her childhood had been very happy. Surrounded
and protected by the loving care of devoted parents, she had grown to
look out upon the world with happy eyes, and her sunshiny disposition
made pleasure for herself and for others. Marjory had fallen in love
with her at first sight, and felt that she could never tire of looking
at her friend's sweet face.

They found tea laid for them in the dining-room. It was a pleasant room,
long and low-ceilinged, with oak beams and high panelled doors. At one
end of it stood an old-fashioned dresser, its shelves decorated with
precious china and silver. On the walls were pictures of bygone Hunters
in various costumes, Marjory's favourite being a dashing young cavalier,
with hat and feather, collar and frills of costly lace, and all the
other appointments of the period. Marjory used to amuse herself trying
to imagine her Uncle George dressed in such a style. There was the
admiral in cocked hat and gold lace; the minister in black gown and
orthodox white bands; there was the brave young soldier who had died for
Prince Charlie; and there were many others, most of them celebrated in
some way, for the Hunters had been a race of strong men.

Lisbeth, resplendent in a black silk dress, with muslin apron and cap in
honour of the occasion, stood at the door to meet the girls. On such a
day as this, Jean, the young maid, gave place to her superior.

"This is Blanche Forester," said Marjory by way of introduction; and
turning to Blanche, "This is dear old Lisbeth."

"I'm pleased to see ye," said the old lady graciously, nodding with
satisfaction, her eyes fixed upon Blan