Chapter 1. An Old-Fashioned Little Pair
_ CHAPTER I. AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR
Sun and shower--sun and shower--
Now rough, now smooth, is the winding way；
Thorn and flower--thorn and flower--
Which will you gather? Who can say?
Wayward hearts, there‘s a world for your winning,
Sorrow and laughter, love or woe:
Who can tell in the day‘s beginning
The paths that your wandering feet shall go?
--MARY MACLEOD.
The village choir were practicing in the church--their voices, somewhat harsh and uncultivated, were sending forth volumes of sound into the summer air. The church doors were thrown open, and a young man dressed in cricketing-flannels was leaning against the porch. He was tall, and square-shouldered, with closely-cropped dark hair, and a keen, intelligent face.
When the music became very loud and discordant he moved impatiently, but as the human voices ceased and the sweet notes of the voluntary sounded in full melody on the

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