and wondered; his wife noticed and smiled
sometimes, but oftener sighed, wisely keeping silence, for she knew that
in times like this the best words were those unspoken.

The happiest day of all for Ranald was the last, when, after a long
tramp with Harry through the woods, he drove him back to the manse,
coming up from the gate to the door like a whirlwind.

As Lisette stood pawing and tossing her beautiful head, Mrs. Murray, who
stood with Maimie watching them drive up, cried out, admiringly: "What a
beauty she is!"

"Isn't she!" cried Harry, enthusiastically. "And such a flyer! Get in,
auntie, and see."

"Do," said Ranald; "I would be very glad. Just to the church hill and
back."

"Go, auntie," pleaded Harry. "She is wonderful."

"You go, Maimie," said her aunt, to whom every offered pleasure simply
furnished an opportunity of thought for others.

"Nonsense!" cried Harry, impatiently. "You might gratify yourself a
little for once in your life. Besides," he added, with true brotherly
blindness, "it's you Ranald wants. At least he talks enough about you."

"Yes, auntie, do go! It will be lovely," chimed in Maimie, with
suspicious heartiness.

So, with many protestations, Mrs. Murray took her place beside Ranald
and was whirled off like the wind. She returned in a very few minutes,
her hair blown loose till the little curls hung about her glowing face
and her eyes shining with excitement.

"Oh, she is perfectly splendid!" she exclaimed. "And so gentle. You must
go, Maimie, if only to the gate." And Maimie went, but not to turn at
even the church hill.

For a mile down the concession road Ranald let Lisette jog at an easy
pace while he told Maimie some of his aims and hopes. He did not mean
to be a farmer nor a lumberman. He was going to the city, and there
make his fortune. He did not say it in words, but his tone, his manner,
everything about him, proclaimed his confidence that some day he
would be a great man. And Maimie believed him, not because it seemed
reasonable, or because there seemed to be any ground for his confidence,
but just because Ranald said it. His superb self-confidence wrought in
her assurance.

"And then," he said, proudly, "I am going to see you."

"Oh, I hope you will not wait till then," she answered.

"I do not know," he said. "I cannot tell, but it does not matter much. I
will be always seeing you."

"But I will want to see you," said Maimie.

"Yes," said Ranald, "I know y