yes. Upon her
appearing the young man stood looking upon her without a word. As a
matter of fact, he was struggling with a problem; a problem that was
quite bewildering; the problem, namely, "How could hair ever manage
to get itself into such an arrangement of waves and curls, and golden
gleams and twinkles?" Struggling with this problem, he became conscious
of her voice gravely questioning him. "You were wishing to see my
brother?" The young man came back part way, and replied, "Oh! how does
it--? That is--. I beg your pardon." The surprise in her face brought
him quite to the ground, and he came at once to his business. "I am Mr.
Martin," he said in a quick, sharp voice. "I know your brother and Mr.
Dunn." He noted a light dawn in her eyes. "In fact, I played with them
on the same team--at football, you know."

"Oh!" cried the girl, relief and welcome in her voice, "I know you,
Mr. Martin, quite well. I know all about you, and what a splendid
quarter-back you are." Here she gave him both her hands, which Mr.
Martin took in a kind of dream, once more plunged into the mazes of
another and more perplexing problem, viz., Was it her lips with that
delicious curve to them? or her eyes so sunny and brown (or were they
brown?) with that alluring, bewitching twinkle? or was it both lips and
eyes that gave to the smile with which she welcomed him its subtle power
to make his heart rise and choke him as it never had been known to do in
the most strenuous of his matches? "I'm awfully glad," he heard himself
say, and her voice replying, "Oh, yes! Allan has often and often spoken
of you, Mr. Martin." Mr. Martin immediately became conscious of a
profound and grateful affection to Allan, still struggling, however,
with the problem which had been complicated still further by the charm
of her soft, Highland voice. He was on the point of deciding in favour
of her voice, when on her face he noted a swift change from glad welcome
to suspicion and fear, and then into her sunny eyes a sudden leaping of
fierce wrath, as in those of a lioness defending her young.

"Why do you look so?" she cried in a voice sharp and imperious. "Is it
my brother--? Is anything wrong?"

The shock of the change in eyes and voice brought Martin quite to
himself.

"Wrong? Not a bit," he hastened to say, "but just the finest thing in
the world. It is all here in this letter. Dunn could not come himself,
and there was no one else, and he thought Cameron ought to