a beating heart, in case granny’s oft-repeated prophecy should prove true, and the dreaded notice to quit should really be coming at last.  But instead of any such terrible communication, after he had stood the penetrating glance of the bald-headed factor, a kindly nod used generally to follow, and presently Geordie was galloping home at the top of his speed to assure his grandmother that there was no word of “a flittin’” this Martinmas.  And now he felt that their home was more secure than ever, for had not the lady said that she was sure nobody wanted to turn them out of it?

Geordie’s chief source of delight during his walk home was the thought of what a pleasant outing the walk to Kirklands would be for Jean, for there were many things within the lodge gates that she had heard of and would like to see.  Perhaps they might get a glimpse of the walled-in garden as they passed, which Geordie had heard of from his master, who was a friend of old Adam the gardener, and had been sometimes invited by him to take a turn through his domain.  But the happiest thought of all was, that, perhaps, Jean might get more interested in her alphabet when the young lady taught her.  He resolved that he must not forget to take the “Third Primer” with him, for it was possible that the young lady might not exactly understand what they needed to be taught; for, after all, she did not look so very old, he pondered, as he compared her appearance with Mistress Gowrie’s, the one grown specimen of the female sex, except his grandmother, who made up his small world.

CHAPTER III.

THE FIRST SCHOLARS

Grace Campbell hurried home with not less eagerness than her future scholar, to tell the news of her expedition at Kirklands.  Her Aunt Hume was only half awakened from her afternoon nap, and glanced with dropsy eyes at the glowing face, as she listened to her niece’s description of how and where she had found Geordie.

“Baxter!  I do not remember that name; I must ask Mr. Graham who they are, and all about them, nest time he comes,” said Miss Hume, after Grace had finished her eager narration, and stood twirling her hat in her hand, hesitating whether she should tell her aunt Geordie’s impression of what sort of people the “Kirklands folk” were; but just at that moment tea was brought, and on reflection, Grace resolved that, for the present, it would be wise to keep silent on that point.  Two days passed quickly, and Sunday afternoon found Grace hovering about the door of the little room which her aunt had given to her for her class.  She had been seated in state at a table which Margery had placed for her, at what the old nurse considered a suitable angle of distance from the form arranged for the scholars; but Grace began to think it felt rather formidable to be waiting seated there, so she gathered up the books again, and wandered between the avenue and the little room, waiting with impatience the arrival of her first scholars, and having a vague fear lest they might not be forthcoming after all.