their hamely affairs, and seldom visiting the aged or the sick among
them. Shortly, however, before the death of the doctor, Mr Pittle had
been very attentive to my wife's full cousin, Miss Lizy Pinkie, I'll no
say on account of the legacy of seven hundred pounds left her by an uncle
that made his money in foreign parts, and died at Portsmouth of the liver
complaint, when he was coming home to enjoy himself; and Mrs Pawkie told
me, that as soon as Mr Pittle could get a kirk, I needna be surprised if
I heard o' a marriage between him and Miss Lizy.

Had I been a sordid and interested man, this news could never have given
me the satisfaction it did, for Miss Lizy was very fond of my bairns, and
it was thought that Peter would have been her heir; but so far from being
concerned at what I heard, I rejoiced thereat, and resolved in secret
thought, whenever a vacancy happened, Dr Swapkirk being then fast wearing
away, to exert the best of my ability to get the kirk for Mr Pittle, not,
however, unless he was previously married to Miss Lizy; for, to speak
out, she was beginning to stand in need of a protector, and both me and
Mrs Pawkie had our fears that she might outlive her income, and in her
old age become a cess upon us. And it couldna be said that this was any
groundless fear; for Miss Lizy, living a lonely maiden life by herself,
with only a bit lassie to run her errands, and no being naturally of an
active or eydent turn, aften wearied, and to keep up her spirits gaed may
be, now and then, oftener to the gardevin than was just necessar, by
which, as we thought, she had a tavert look. Howsever, as Mr Pittle had
taken a notion of her, and she pleased his fancy, it was far from our
hand to misliken one that was sib to us; on the contrary, it was a duty
laid on me by the ties of blood and relationship, to do all in my power
to further their mutual affection into matrimonial fruition; and what I
did towards that end, is the burden of this current chapter.

Dr Swapkirk, in whom the spark of life was long fading, closed his eyes,
and it went utterly out, as to this world, on a Saturday night, between
the hours of eleven and twelve. We had that afternoon got an inkling
that he was drawing near to his end. At the latest, Mrs Pawkie herself
went over to the manse, and stayed till she saw him die. "It was a
pleasant end," she said, for he was a godly, patient man; and we were
both sorely grieved, though it was a thing for w