r cousin Maimie."

Hughie went up shyly to his cousin and offered a grimy hand. Maimie,
looking at the ragged little figure, could hardly hide her disgust as
she took the dirty, sticky little hand very gingerly in her fingers. But
Hughie was determined to do his duty to the full, even though Ranald was
present, and shaking his cousin's hand with great heartiness, he held up
his face to be kissed. He was much surprised, and not a little relieved,
when Maimie refused to notice his offer and turned to look at Ranald.

She found him scanning her with a straight, searching look, as if
seeking to discover of what sort she was. She felt he had noticed her
shrinking from Hughie, and was annoyed to find herself blushing under
his keen gaze. But when Mrs. Murray presented Ranald to her niece,
it was his turn to blush and feel awkward, as he came forward with a
triangular sort of movement and offered his hand, saying, with an access
of his Highland accent, "It is a fine day, ma'am." It required all
Maimie's good manners to keep back the laugh that fluttered upon her
lips.

Slight as it was, Ranald noticed the smile, and turning from her
abruptly to Mrs. Murray, said: "We were thinking that Friday would be a
good day for the sugaring-off, if that will do you."

"Quite well, Ranald," said the minister's wife; "and it is very good of
you to have us."

She, too, had noted Maimie's smile, and seeing the dark flush on
Ranald's cheek, she knew well what it meant.

"Come and sit down a little, Ranald," she said, kindly; "I have got some
books here for you and Don to read."

But Ranald would not sit, nor would he wait a moment. "Thank you,
ma'am," he said, "but I will need to be going."

"Wait, Ranald, a moment," cried Mrs. Murray. She ran into the next
room, and in a few moments returned with two or three books and some
magazines. "These," she said, handing him the books, "are some of Walter
Scott's. They will be good for week-days; and these," giving him the
magazines, "you can read after church on Sabbath."

The boy's eyes lighted up as he thanked Mrs. Murray, and he shook hands
with her very warmly. Then, with a bow to the company, and without
looking at Maimie again, he left the room, with Hughie following at his
heels. In a short time Hughie came back full of enthusiastic praise of
his hero.

"Oh, mother!" he cried, "he is awful smart. He can just do anything.
He can make a splendid bed of balsam brush, and porridge, and