his own person, make the "Sunday class" on which she had set her heart.

"But I thought ye couldn't bear poor folk at Kirklands," said Geordie,
reflectively, glancing at Grace, after he had pondered over the
invitation. "Granny's aye frightened they will be takin' our housie from
us, as they have done from so many puir folk;" and then the boy stopped
suddenly, and a deep red flush rose under his bronzed cheek as he
remembered that he must be speaking to one of those same "Kirklands
folk."

"Oh, your grandmother needn't be afraid of that. I am sure my aunt would
not wish to take away her home," replied Grace, hurriedly, also flushing
with vexation, and resolving that she would certainly listen with more
interest, if she happened to be present at the next interview, to Mr.
Graham's narratives concerning the improvements, seeing that they seemed
to involve the improving away of the natives off the face of the
country.

Just then the sound of a horn came across the heather, and Geordie
started off, saying, "There's Gowrie's horn sounding; I must away and
gather home the kye." And he darted off across the hillocks in search of
his scattered charges, giving a succession of whoops and shrieks as he
brandished his cudgel and whirled about in the discharge of his duty,
quite ignoring Grace, who still stood on the stepping-stones, feeling
rather sorry that the interview had terminated so abruptly, for she
remembered a great many questions she would like to have asked.

Presently Geordie, by dint of his exertions, managed to arrange the
cattle, with the formidable Blackie in front, in quite an orderly
procession, and he now prepared to move towards the farm, whose white