erself in longings that, amid
the influences of a time so solemn and so sweet, Dan might find that
which should make him wise and strong, and place him far beyond all her
doubts and fears for ever.

It was a day in the beginning of harvest--a rainy day, coming after so
long a time of drought and dust and heat that all rejoiced in it, even
though it fell on golden sheaves and on long swaths of new-cut grain.
It was not a misty, drizzling rain; it came down with a will in sudden
showers, leaving little pools in the chip-yard and garden-paths. Every
now and then the clouds broke away, as if they were making preparation
for the speedy return of the sunshine; but the sun did not show his face
till he had only time to tinge the clouds with golden glory before he
sank behind the forest.

"Carry me to the window, Dan," said Hamish. "Thank you: that is nice.
You carry me as strongly and firmly as Allister himself. You are as
strong, and nearly as tall, I think," continued he, when he had been
placed in the great chair and had rested a little. At any other time
Dan would have straightened himself up to declare how he was an eighth
of an inch taller than Allister, or he would have attempted some
extraordinary feat--such as lifting the stove or the chest of drawers--
to prove his right to be called a strong man. But, looking down on his
brother's fragile form and beautiful colourless face, other thoughts
moved him. Love and compassion, for which no words could be found,
filled his heart and looked out from his wistful eyes. It came to him
as it had never come before--what a sorrowful, suffering life his
brother's had been; and now he was dying! Hamish seemed not to need
words in order that he might understand his thoughts.

"I used to fret about it, Dan; but that is all past. It does not
matter, as I am lying now. I would not change my weakness for your
strength to-day, dear lad."

A last bright ray of sunlight lighted up the fair, smiling face, and
flecked with golden gleams the curls that lay about it. There came into
Dan's mind thoughts of the time when Hamish was a little lad, strong and
merry as any of them all; and his heart was moved with vague wonder and
regret at the mystery that had changed his happy life to one of
suffering and comparative helplessness. And yet, what did it matter,
now that the end had come? Perhaps all that trouble and pain had helped
to make the brightness of to-day, for there was no s