Kilmeny of the Orchard

“ I’ll try to remember,” she wrote, “ but oh, Aunt Janet, I am so glad I am not ugly. It is not wrong to be glad of that, is it? ”

The older woman’s face softened.

“ N o, I don’t suppose it is, lassie,” she conceded. “ A comely face is something to be thankful for—as none know better than those who have never possessed it. I remember well when I was a girl—but that is neither here nor there. The Mas- ter thinks you are wonderful bonny, Kil- meny,” she added, looking keenly at the girl. Kilmeny started and a scarlet blush scorched her face. That, and the expres— sion that flashed into her eyes, told Janet Gordon all she wished to know. With a stifled sigh she bade her niece good night and went away.

Kilmeny ran fleetly up the stairs to her dim little room, that looked out into the spruces, and flung herself on her bed, burying her burning face in the pillow.

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