re of my purse; and I have more--a great
deal more;" and Fay held out to the dazzled eyes of the old lady a
purse full of bank-notes and glittering gold pieces, which seemed
riches itself to her Highland simplicity.

"Ay, and just look at the diamonds and emeralds on your fingers, my
dearie; your man must have plenty of this world's goods. What do they
call him, my bairn, and where does he live?" But Fay skillfully fenced
these questions. She called herself Mrs. St. Clair, she said, and her
husband was a landed proprietor, and lived in one of the midland
counties in England; and then she turned Mrs. Duncan's attention by
asking if she and baby might have the room her father slept in. Then
Jean brought in the tea and buttered scones, and the milk for the
baby; and while Mrs. Duncan fed him, she told Fay about her own
trouble.

For the kind, white-headed minister, whom Fay remembered, was lying
now in his last illness; he had had two strokes of paralysis, and the
third would carry him off, the doctor said.

"One blessing is, my Donald does not suffer," continued Mrs. Duncan,
with a quiver of her lip; "he is quite helpless, poor man, and can not
stir himself, and Jean lifts him up as though he were a baby; but he
sleeps most of his time, and when he is awake he never troubles--he
just talks about the old time, when he brought me first to the Manse;
and sometimes he fancies Robbie and Elsie are pulling flowers in the
garden--and no doubt they are, the darlings, only it is in the garden
of Paradise; and may be there are plenty of roses and lilies there,
such as Solomon talked about in the Canticles."

"And who takes the duty for Mr. Duncan?" asked Fay, who was much
distressed to hear this account of her kind old friend.

"Well, our nephew, Fergus, rides over from Corrie to take the services
for the Sabbath. He is to be wedded to Lilian Graham, down at the farm
yonder, and sometimes he puts up at the Manse and sometimes at the
farm; and they do say, when my Donald has gone to the land of the
leal, that Fergus will come to the Manse; for though he is young he is
a powerful preacher, and even Saint Paul bids Timothy to 'let no one
despise his youth;' but I am wearying you, my bairn, and Jean has
kindled a fire in the pink room, for the nights are chilly, and you
and me will be going up, and leaving the big doggie to take care of
himself."

But "the big doggie" was of a different opinion; he quite approved of
his hostess