“It was not Ranald's fault, mother,” he declared. “You know Peter would not let him alone, and Ranald hit him in the nose, and served him right, too. But they made it all up, and they were just going into the church again, when that Aleck McRae pulled Ranald back, and Ranald did not want to fight at all, but he called Ranald a liar, and he could not help it, but just hit him.” “Who hit who?” said Maimie. “You're not making it very clear, Hughie.” “Why, Ranald, of course, hit Aleck, and knocked him over, too,” said Hughie, with much satisfaction; “and then Aleck--he is an awful fighter, you know--jumped on Ranald and was pounding him just awful, the great big brute, when out came papa. He stepped up and caught Aleck by the neck and shook him just like a baby, saying, all the time, 'Would ye? I will teach you to fight on the Sabbath day! Here! in with you, every one of you!' and he threw him nearly into the door, and then they all skedaddled into the church, I tell you, Don said. They were pretty badly scart, too, but Don did not know what papa did to Ranald, and he did not know where Ranald went, but he is pretty badly hurted, I am sure. That great big Aleck McRae is old enough to be his father. Wasn't it mean of him, mother?” Poor Hughie was almost in tears, and his mother, who sat listening too eagerly to correct her little boy's ethics or grammar, was as nearly overcome as he. She wished she knew where Ranald was. He had not appeared at the evening Bible class, and Murdie had reported that he could not find him anywhere. She put Hughie to bed, and then saw Maimie to her room. But Maimie was very unwilling to go to bed. “Oh, auntie,” she whispered, as her aunt kissed her good night, “I cannot go to sleep!” And then, after a pause, she said, shyly, “Do you think he is badly hurt?” Then the minister's wife, looking keenly into the girl's face, made light of Ranald's misfortune. “Oh, he will be all right,” she said, “as far as his hurt is concerned. That is the least part of his trouble. You need not worry about that. Good night, my dear.” And Maimie, relieved by her aunt's tone, said “good night” with her heart at rest. Then Mrs. Murray went into the study, determined to find out what had passed between her husband and Ranald. She found him lying on his couch, luxuriating in the satisfaction of a good day's work behind him, and his first pipe nearly done. She at once ventured upon the thing that lay heavy upon her heart. She began by telling all she knew of the trouble from its beginning in the church, and then waited for her husband's story. For some moments he lay silently smoking. “Ah, well,” he said, at length, knocking out his pipe, “perhaps I was a little severe with the lad. He may not have been so much to blame.” “Oh, papa! What did you do?” said his wife, in an anxious voice.