I shook my head.

"I'm no hand at riddles."

"Well, there's a marriage to come off in our parish before long, if
matters can be satisfactorily arranged."

"A marriage!" That roused me; it would be the first function of the
kind I had seen in Ardmuirland. For our lads usually fetched partners
from elsewhere, and maidens being accustomed to migrate to service in
the south, found mates there--even as the swallows.

"I thought that would fetch you!" cried Val triumphant. "And now give
a guess."

But I racked my brains to no purpose.

"It's not Widow Lamont, and it's not Robina----"

"Why not?" he asked. But I saw he was quizzing.

"It's a widow," he said. "I'll tell you that much."

Even then I was nonplussed.

"Ted, you've no imagination! Is Christian Logan too old?"

"Christian Logan! Of course not! Who's the happy man?"

"He's not altogether happy yet," returned Val. "There are obstacles in