o catechise the bairns--
though I'm no' for Sabbath sleeping as an ordinary thing. Will you no'
lie down? Well, you might step over as far as the pasture-bars and see
if all is right with old Kelso and her foal, for here come the bairns
and their mother, and there will be no peace with them till they get
their supper, and your head will be none the better for their noise."

And so she got him away, going with him a few steps up the field. She
turned in time to meet the troop of children who, in a state of subdued
mirthfulness suitable to the day and their proximity to their
grandfather, were drawing near. She had a gentle word of caution or
chiding to each, and then she said softly to Katie:

"You'll go up the brae with your grandfather and help him if there is
anything wrong with old Kelso. And cheer him up, my lassie. Tell him
about the meeting, and the Sunday-school; say anything you think of to
hearten him. You ken well how to do it."

"But, grannie," said Katie, startled, "there is nothing wrong, is
there?"

"Wrong," repeated her grandmother. "Ken you anything wrong, lassie,
that you go white like that?"

The brave old woman grew white herself as she asked, but she stood
between Katie and the rest, that none might see.

"I ken nothing, grannie, only grandfather didna bide to the meeting
to-day, Ben told me."

"Didna bide to the meeting? Where went he, then? He has only just come
home."

"It was because of Jacob Holt," Ben said.

"But Katie, my woman, you had no call surely to speak about the like of
that to Ben Holt?"

"I didna, grannie. I just heard him and came away. And, grannie, I
think maybe grandfather was at Pine-tree Hollow. It would be for a
while's peace, you ken, as the bairns were at home."

"Pine-tree Hollow! Well, and why not?" said grannie, too loyal to the
old man to let Katie see that she was startled by her words. "It has
been for a while's peace, as you say. And now you'll run up the brae
after him, and take no heed, but wile him from his vexing thoughts, like
a good bairn as you are."

"And there's nothing wrong, grannie?" said Katie, wistfully.

"Nothing more than usual; nothing the Lord doesna ken o', my bairn. Run
away and speak to him, and be blithe and douce, and he'll forget his
trouble with your hand in his."

Katie's voice was like a bird's as she called: "Grandfather,
grandfather, bide for me."

The old man turned and waited for her.

"Doesna your