confidence of all vows and promises. Among these simple,
straight-forward people, there are no secrecies in love affairs; and
the first thing Jamie did was to return to the cottage with Christina
to make known the engagement they had entered into.

They met Andrew on the sands. He had been disappointed. Sophy had gone
out with a friend, and her aunt had seemed annoyed and had not asked
him to wait. He was counting up in his mind how often this thing had
happened lately, and was conscious of an unhappy sense of doubt and
unkindness which was entirely new to him. But when Christina stepped to
his side, and Jamie said frankly, "Andrew, your dear sweet sister loves
me, and has promised to be my wife, and I hope you will give us the
love and favour we are seeking," Andrew looked tenderly into his
sister's face, and their smiles met and seemed to kiss each other. And
he took her hand between his own hands, and then put it into Jamie's.

"You shall be a brother to me, Jamie," he said; "and we will stand
together always, for the sake of our bonnie Christina." And Jamie could
not speak for happiness; but the three went forward with shining eyes
and linked hands, and Andrew forgot his own fret and disappointment, in
the joy of his sister's betrothal.

Janet came home as they sat in the moonlight outside the cottage. "Come
into the house," she cried, with a pretense of anger. "It is high time
for folk who have honest work for the morn to be sleeping. What hour
will you get to the week's work, I wonder, Christina? If I leave the
fireside for a minute or two, everything stops but daffing till I get
back again. What for are you sitting so late?"

"There is a good reason, Mother!" said Andrew, as he rose and with