I am sure," Ranald said, with sudden enthusiasm; "I
would just like to know him. If I thought Yankee would--"

"Oh, pshaw! Of course Yankee will milk the cows," exclaimed Hughie.
"Come on, come on in. And Ranald went to meet one of the great nights of
his life.

"Here is Ranald!" called Hughie at the top of his voice, as he entered
the room where the family were gathered.

"You don't say so, Hughie?" answered his cousin, coming forward. "You
ought to make that fact known. We all want to hear it."

Ranald liked him from the first. He was not a bit "proud" in spite of
his fine clothes and his head being "split in the middle."

"You're the chap," he said, stretching out his hand to Ranald, "that
snatched Maimie from the fire. Mighty clever thing to do. We have heard
a lot about you at our house. Why, every week--"

"Let some one else talk, Harry," interrupted Maimie, with cheeks
flaming. "We are going to have some singing now. Here is auntie. Mayn't
we use the piano?"

"Why, yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Murray. "I was glad to see your
father there to-night," she said to Ranald.

"And Yankee, mother."

"Hush, Hughie; you must call people by their right names. Now let us
have some singing. I hear Ranald is singing bass these days."

"And bully good bass, too," cried Hughie. "John 'Aleck' says that it's
the finest bass in the whole singing school."

"Well, Hughie," said his mother, quietly, "I don't think it is necessary
to shout even such pleasant information as that. Now go to your singing,
and I shall listen."

She lay back in the big chair, looking so pale and weary that Harry
hardly believed it was the same woman that had just been keeping a
hundred and fifty people keenly alert for an hour and a half, and
leading them with such intellectual and emotional power.

"That class is too hard for you, auntie," he said. "If I were your
husband I would not let you keep it on."

"But you see my husband is not here. He is twelve miles away."

"Then I would lock you up, or take you with me."

"Oh!" cried Hughie, "I would much rather teach the Bible class than
listen to another sermon."

"Something in that," said his cousin, "especially if I were the
preacher, eh?" at which they all laughed.

It was a happy hour for Ranald. He had been too shy to join the singing
school, and had never heard any part singing till he began to attend the
Bible class. There he made the delightful discovery that, without any
instr