Oh yes, they are fast friends, the two
Shenacs. You should have seen them the night Angus Dhu came to speak to
my mother about the letter that came from Evan. Our Shenac was as proud
of you as a hen is of one chicken, though she did not let the old man
see it; and Shenac Dhu was as bad, and said over and over again to her
father, `I told you, father, that Allister was good and true. He'll
never leave Evan; don't be afraid.' I doubt Evan was a wild lad out
yonder, Allister."
"Not wilder than many another," said Allister gravely. "But it is a bad
place for young men, Dan. Evan was like a brother to me always."
"You were a brother to him, at any rate," said Dan.
"We were like brothers," said Allister.
"Oh, well, it's all right, I daresay," said Dan. "It has come out like
a story in a book, you both coming home together. And, Allister, I was
wrong about our Shenac in one thing. She does not mind in the least
letting you do as you like. She seems all the better pleased when you
are pleased; but she was hard on me, I can tell you."
"That's queer, too," said Allister, with a look in his eyes that made
Dan laugh in spite of himself.
"Oh yes, I know what you are thinking: that there is a difference
between you and me. But there is a difference in Shenac too."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
Dan was right,--Shenac was changed. Even if Allister had not come home,
if the success of the summer's work had depended, as it had hitherto
mainly done, upon her, it would have been a very different summer from
the last. The labour, though it had been hard enough, from early
morning till night every day of the year, was not what had been worst
for her. The constant care and anxiety had been harder to bear. Not
the fear of want. That had never really troubled her. She knew that it
would never come to that with them. But the welfare of all the family
had depended on her strength and wisdom while they kept together, and
the responsibility had been too heavy for her. How much too heavy it
had been she only knew by the blessed sense of relief which followed its
removal.
But it would have been different now, even had her cares been the same,
for a new element mingled in her life--a firm trust in God. She had
known, in a way, all along that, labour as she might, the increase must
come from God. She had always assented to her brother's gentle
reminders of the heavenly care and keeping promised to the widow and the
fath
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