THE LOGGING BEE
the moment, his ease forsook him, but Mrs. Murray came to meet him with outstretched hand.
"So you still retain your laurels?" she said, with a frank smile. "I hear it was a great battle."
Aleck shook hands with her rather awkwardly. He was not on the easiest terms with the minister and his wife. He belonged distinctly to the careless set, and rather enjoyed the distinction.
"Oh, it was not much," he said; "the teams were well matched."
"Oh, I should like to have been there. You should have told us beforehand."
"Oh, it was more than I expected myself," he said. "I didn't think it was in Farquhar's team."
He could not bring himself to give any credit to Ranald, and though Murray saw this, she refused to notice it. She was none the less anxious to Aleck's confidence, because she was Ranald's friend.
"Do you know my niece?" she said, turning to Maimie.
Aleck looked into Maimie's face with such open admiration that she felt the blush come up in her cheeks.
"Indeed, she is worth knowing, but I don't think she will care to take such a hand as that," he said, stretching out a hand still grimy in spite of much washing. But Maimie had learned something since coming to her aunt, and she no longer judged men by the fit of their clothes, or the color of their skin, or the length of their hair; and indeed, as she looked at Aleck, with his close-buttoned smock, and overalls
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