At length, when the last of the men had made themselves, as they thought, presentable, they began to make their approach to the tables, slowly and shyly for the most part, each waiting for the other. Aleck McRae, however, knew little of shyness, but walked past the different groups of girls, throwing on either hand a smile, a wink, or a word, as he might find suitable. Suddenly he came upon the group where the minister's wife and her niece were standing. Here, for 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 Mrs. Murray saw this, she refused to notice it. She was none the less anxious to win 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 with the legs tucked neatly into the tops of his boots, she thought he was the trimmest figure she had seen since coming to the country. She took Aleck's hand and shook it warmly, the full admiration in his handsome black eyes setting her blood tingling with that love of conquest that lies in every woman's heart. So she flung out her flag of war, and smiled back at him her sweetest. “You have a fine team, I hear,” she said, as her aunt moved away to greet some of the other men, who were evidently waiting to get a word with her. “That I have, you better believe,” replied Aleck, proudly. “It was very clever of Ranald to come so near beating you, wasn't it?” she said, innocently. “He must be a splendid driver.” “He drives pretty well,” admitted Aleck. “He did nothing else all last winter in the shanties.” “He is so young, too,” went on Maimie. “Just a boy, isn't he?” Aleck was not sure how to take this. “He does not think so,” he answered, shortly. “He thinks he is no end of a man, but he will have to learn something before he is much older.”