mselves too
weary to undertake the walk. It was a very lovely morning. Here and
there a yellow birch, or a crimson maple bough, gave token that the
dreary autumn was not far-away; but the air was mild and balmy as June,
and the bright sunlight made even the rough road and the low-lying
stubble-fields look lovely, in Christie's eyes.

"How quiet and peaceful all things are!" she thought.

The insects were chirping merrily enough, and now and then the voice of
a bird was heard, and from the woodland pastures far-away the tinkle of
sheep-bells fell pleasantly on the ear. But these sounds in no way
jarred on the Sabbath stillness; and as Christie followed her sister
along the narrow path that led them by a near way across the fields to
the half-mile corner where the road took a sudden turn to the right, a
strange feeling of peace stole over her. The burden of vexing and
discontented thoughts, that too frequently weighed on her heart, seemed
to fall away under the pleasant influence of the sunshine and the quiet,
and she drew a long sigh of relief as she said, softly:

"Oh, Effie! such a bonny day!"

"Yes," said Effie, turning round for a moment, and smiling at her
sister's brightening face. "It seems just such a day as one would
choose the Sabbath to be--so bright, yet so peaceful. I am very glad."

But they could not say much yet; for the path was narrow, and there were
stones and rough places, and now and then a little water to be avoided;
so they went on quietly till they reached the low stone wall that
separated the field from the high-road. The boughs of the old tree that
hung over it were looking bare and autumn-like already, but under the
flickering shadow they sat down for a while to rest.

"Hark!" said Christie, as the sound of wheels reached them. "That must
be the Nesbitts. They never go to the Gaelic service. I dare say they
will ask us to ride." There was an echo of disappointment in her tone;
and in a moment she added:

"It is such a bonny day, and the walk would be so pleasant by and by in
the cool shade!"

"Yes," said Effie. "But if they ask us we'll ride; for six miles is a
long walk for you. And it will be nice to ride, too."

And so it was. The long wagon was drawn by two stout horses. No one
was in it but John Nesbitt and his mother; and they were both delighted
to offer a seat to the young girls. Christie sat on the front seat with
John, who was quite silent, thinking his own t