sank down upon the
piano-stool and let her hands fall upon the keys.

"Are you?" he demanded, ignoring the interruption.

With her head low down, while she struck the chords of the hymn they had
just sung, she said, hesitatingly, "I am not sorry."

"Sorry for what?" said Harry.

"Oh, nothing," said Maimie, lightly.

"Nobody is, if he has got any sense."

Then Mrs. Murray came in. "Won't you stay for supper, Ranald? You must
be hungry."

"No, thank you," said Ranald. "I must go now."

He shook hands with an ease and freedom that the minister had never seen
in him, and went out.

"That young man is coming on," said the minister. "I never saw any one
change and develop as he has in the last few months. Let me see. He is
only eighteen, isn't he, and he might be twenty-one." The minister spoke
as if he were not too well pleased with this precocity in Ranald.

But little did Ranald care. That young man was striding homeward through
the night, his head striking the stars. His path lay through the woods,
and when he came to the "sugar camp" road, he stood still, and let the
memories of the night when he had snatched Maimie from the fire troop
through his mind. Suddenly he thought of Aleck McRae, and laughed aloud.

"Poor Aleck," he said. Aleck seemed so harmless to him now. And then he
stood silent, motionless, looking straight toward the stars, but seeing
them not. He was remembering Maimie's face when she said, "Yes, Ranald,
I will always remember you and think of you"; and then the thought of
what followed, sent the blood jumping through his veins.

"She will not forget," he said aloud, and went on his way. It was his
happy night, the happiest of his life thus far, and he would always be
happy. What difference could anything make?

CHAPTER XV

THE REVIVAL

Those last days of Maimie's visit sped by on winged feet. To Ranald they
were brimming with happiness, every one of them. It was the slack time
of the year, between seeding and harvest, and there was nothing much
to keep him at home. And so, with Harry, his devoted companion, Ranald
roamed the woods, hitching up Lisette in Yankee's buckboard, put her
through her paces, and would now and then get up such bursts of speed as
took Harry's breath away; and more than all, there was the chance of
a word with Maimie. He had lost much of his awkwardness. He went about
with an air of mastery, and why not? He had entered upon his kingdom.
The minister noticed