the "stair across the hall," in front of the old
chimney-piece, and so, just beneath the picture of the fir trees. The
painting was a fine one, and represented a landscape with firs in the
foreground. It had hung there since the days of the earlier Cromartys,
and was a valuable work of art.

Patty had always loved the picture, even before the added interest of
learning the truth about the fir trees, and they all knew it was one of
her favourites among the many art treasures of the old house.

"I was going to make this speech when the party was here," proceeded
Sinclair, "but I didn't, partly because I feared it might embarrass
Patty, and partly because I like it better to have only our own people
here. But the speech itself is this: We, the Cromartys of Cromarty Manor,
realising that we can never liquidate the great debt of gratitude we owe
to our beautiful and beloved friend, Miss Patty Fairfield, wish, at
least, to give her a token of our affection and a memento of her noble
deed. We, therefore, one and all of the household of Cromarty, offer her
this picture of fir trees, this painting by Hobbema, and we trust that
she will accept it in the spirit it is tendered."

Sinclair bowed and sat down, and Patty sat for a moment in awestruck
silence.

Then, "The Hobbema!" she cried, "I won't take it! The idea of giving me
that painting! Why, it's one of the gems of the house!"

"That's why we want you to have it, Patty dear," said Grandma Cromarty,
gently. "It is one of our treasures, and for that very reason it is
worthy to be presented as a souvenir to one who so gloriously deserves
it."

"Hear! Hear!" cried Bob. "Grandy makes a better speech than you, Clair."

Patty's scruples were lovingly overcome, and she was made to realise that
she was the owner of a real masterpiece of art, that would be to her a
lifelong delight.

"But what will take its place?" she said. "It has hung there so many
years."

"It hung there," said Mrs. Hartley, "until its mission was fulfilled. Now
that there is nothing to be searched for 'between the fir trees and the
oak,' it need hang there no longer. It is fitting that we retain the
'oak' and you possess the 'fir trees,' thus assuring an everlasting bond
of union between the fir trees and the oak."

"Bravo, Mater!" cried Bob. "You're coming out strong on speechifying,
too. Mabel, we must look out for our laurels."

But Mabel was too near the verge of tears to trust her voice, so she