The Bunnys had repeatedly asked her before to make her home with them, and they renewed this invitation now in so kind a manner that Halsa accepted. It was an invitation to stay until she could obtain some suitable employment; but a year passed--"And you found the employment," said Galbraith; "you have to take care of me now." And Halsa smiled at him from under her dark eye-lashes in reply. Back they came, then, and even Elder Bullin was there to receive them. "Let bygones be bygones, elder," said the pastor, as he shook the stiff fingers the old man held out. Bullin mumbled something which no one heard, but all believed that a reconciliation had taken place. Halsa entered heartily into her husband's work. She discarded the high straw hats, the red ribbons, and fluttering white raiment, and the only trace of her former somewhat coquettish taste in dress was now in the exceeding neatness of her sober-coloured garments. She was quick and clever at figures, and Galbraith willingly relinquished to her the charge of keeping the accounts of the tabernacle funds. She wore the key of the cash-box in a chain suspended round her neck; and at the monthly audit Elder Bullin confessed that never had the cash-book been so neat or so well kept. "I do believe the old man is getting fond of me," said Halsa, as she stood by her husband and watched the elder as he slowly walked up the garden toward the gate, his big umbrella spread over him. And Galbraith, being in love, did what was expected of him. Now all this time a nameless horror was approaching nearer and nearer. CHAPTER XII. THE DEVIL AT WORK.