CHAPTER XI.
A WEDDING AT BRANXHOLM.
George's eyes were full of suppressed fun and triumph when Mr. McCallum met him at the door as he carried in the milk-pails for Jessie. He knew by intuition who the visitor was.
"Well, Miss Lindsay," said the tall raw-boned Scotchman, extending his hand to her, "I hope ye're nae waur." This was his customary salutation to young ladies, combining, as he thought, a little facetiousness with the simple wish for health.
"I'm very well, I thank you," said she, "but I must put past the milk before I go ben the house. You'll find my father there, and he'll be glad to see you."
"Aye, aye, careful and managing as ever. The milk maun be looked to first. I wish my old woman at Aralewin had half your skill. But
