e was to her niece and nephew. Jock jollied the
aristocratic lady as freely as he did Drew, toward whom he held the
tolerant admiration that he had given him from the beginning. But poor
Jock was not to have his own easy planning of the new situation in all
directions. Constance Drew took a hand in the game, and Jock, with
trailing plume, plodded on behind her.

If _he_ could gibe and tease, she could bring him about with her cool
audacity and comical dignity.

The girl's splendid physique, her athletic tendencies, her endurance and
pluck, compelled Jock's masculine admiration. Her love for her brother,
her tenderness and cheerfulness toward him, won his heart; but her
mental make-up, her strange seriousness where her own private interests
were concerned, caused the young fellow no end of amusement and delight.
He had never seen any one in the least like her, and the new sensation
held him captive.

Poor Jock! He was never again to walk through life without a chain and
ball; but little he heeded that while he had strength and spirit to drag
them.

With Drew's partial recovery the bungalow household lost its head a
little. Aunt Sally's gratitude overflowed into every house in St. Ange.
She felt as if the natives, not the pine-laded air, had been
instrumental in this regained health and joyousness.

"I can never thank you enough," was her constant greeting; and so
sincere was her gratitude that eventually the back doors of the squalid
houses opened to her unconsciously--and of true friendship there is no
greater proof in a primitive village. Sitting in their kitchens, it was
easy for her to reach down into their hearts, and many a St. Ange woman
poured her troubles into Aunt Sally's ears, and went forever after with
uplifted head.

"Why, my dear," the old lady said to Ralph, after Peggy Falstar had
taken her into her confidence, "these people are much like others, only
they have the rough bark on. They are a great deal more vital--the bark
has, somehow, kept the sap richer."

Drew laughed heartily.

"The polishing takes something away, Auntie," he replied. "The bark is
hard to get through; it's tough and prickly and not always lovely, but
it's the sap that counts in every case, and that's what I used to tell
you and Connie. Every time I tapped these people up here, I saw and felt
the rich possibilities."

"Now, you go straight to sleep," his aunt always commanded at that
juncture.

She was not yet able to fa