d I was persuaded into
thinking I had gotten it. But you see my heart was set on it from the
very first--guiding or no guiding--and now the Lord has seen fit to
punish me for my self-seeking."

"Oh, Janet!" said Graeme, remonstratingly.

"My dear, it's true, though it sets me ill to vex you with saying it
now. I have more need to take the lesson to heart. May the Lord give
me grace to do it."

Graeme could say nothing, and Janet continued--

"It's ill done in me to grieve for her. She is far better off than ever
I could have made her with the best of wills, and as for me--I must
submit."

"You have Sandy still."

"Aye, thank God. May He have him in His keeping."

"And he will come yet."

"Yes, I have little doubt. But I'll no' set myself to the hewing out of
broken cisterns this while again. The Lord kens best."

After that night Mrs Snow never left the house for many hours at a time
till Menie went away. Graeme never told her father of the sorrow that
was drawing near. As the days went on, she saw by many a token, that he
knew of the coming parting, but it did not seem to look sorrowful to
him. He was much with her now, but all could see that the hours by her
bedside were not sorrowful ones to him or to her. But to Graeme he did
not speak of her sister's state till near the very last.

They were sitting together in the firelight of the study, as they seldom
sat now. They had been sitting thus a long time--so long that Graeme,
forgetting to wear a cheerful look in her father's presence, had let her
weary eyes close, and her hands drop listlessly on her lap. She looked
utterly weary and despondent, as she sat there, quite unconscious that
her father's eyes were upon her.

"You are tired to-night, Graeme," said he, at last. Graeme started, but
it was not easy to bring her usual look back, so she busied herself with
something at the table and did not speak. Her father sighed.

"It will not be long now."

Graeme sat motionless, but she had no voice with which to speak.

"We little thought it was our bonny Menie who was to see her mother
first. Think of the joy of that meeting, Graeme!"

Graeme's head drooped down on the table. If she had spoken a word, it
must have been with a great burst of weeping. She trembled from head to
foot in her effort to keep herself quiet. Her father watched her for a
moment.

"Graeme, you are not grudging your sister to such blessedness?"

"Not now, papa,