his story, Rahal Ragnor hired the girl, taught her how to
sew, how to mend and darn and in many ways use her needle. Then
discovering that she had a genius for dressmaking, she placed her with
a first-class modiste in Edinburgh to be properly instructed and
liberally attended to all financial requisites; for Rahal Ragnor could
not do anything unless it was wholly and perfectly done. Then Thora
had dressed Jean from her own wardrobe and asked her father to send
their protegee to Edinburgh on one of the vessels he controlled. And
Jean had been heartily grateful, had done well, and risen to a place
of trust in her employer's business; and a few times every year she
wrote to Mrs. Ragnor or Thora. All these circumstances were remembered
by Thora in a moment. "Jean Hay!" she exclaimed. "Well, Jean, you
must wait a few minutes, until I have taken off my wedding dress. I am
sorry I had to put it on--it was not very kind or thoughtful of Mrs.
Beaton to ask me--I don't believe mother liked her doing so--mother
has a superstition or fret about everything. Well, then, it is no way
spoiled----" and she lifted it and the white silk petticoat belonging
to the dress and carefully put them in the place Rahal had selected as
the safest for their keeping. It was a large closet in the spare room
and she went there with them. As she returned to her own room she
heard her mother welcoming a favourite visitor and it pleased her.
"Now I need not hurry," she thought. "Mistress Vorn will stay an hour
at least, and I can take my own time."

"Taking her own time" evidently meant to Thora the reading of Ian's
letter over again. And also a little musing on what Ian had said.
There was, however, no hurry about Jean Hay's letter and it was so
pleasant to drift among the happy thoughts that crowded into her
consideration. So for half an hour Jean's letter lay at her side
untouched--Jean was so far outside her dreams and hopes that
afternoon--but at length she lifted it and these were the words she
read:

DEAR MISS THORA:

I was hearing since last spring that thou wert going to be married
on the son of the Rev. Dr. Macrae--on the young man called John
Calvin Macrae. Very often I was hearing this, and always I was
answering, "There will be no word of truth in that story. Miss
Ragnor will not be noticing such a young man as that. No,
indeed!"

Here Thora threw down the letter and sat looking at it upon the floor
as if she would any mom