oubt and pain and fear came into Macdonald's eyes.

"She never came forward," he said, hesitatingly. "She was afraid to
come."

"I have heard of her often, Mr. Macdonald, and I have heard that she was
a good and gentle woman."

"Aye, she was that."

"And kind to the sick."

"You may believe it."

"And she loved the house of God."

"Aye, and neither rain nor snow nor mud would be keeping her from it,
but she would be going every Sabbath day, bringing her stockings with
her."

"Her stockings?"

"Aye, to change her feet in the church. What else? Her stockings would
be wet with the snow and water."

Mrs. Murray nodded. "And she loved her Saviour, Mr. Macdonald."

"Indeed, I believe it well, but she was afraid she would not be having
'the marks.'"

"Never you fear, Mr. Macdonald," said Mrs. Murray. "If she loved her
Saviour she is with him now."

He turned around to her and lifted himself eagerly on his elbow. "And do
you really think that?" he said, in a voice subdued and anxious.

"Indeed I do," said Mrs. Murray, in a tone of certain conviction.

Macdonald sank back on his pillow, and after a moment's silence, said,
in a voice of pain: "Oh, but it is a peety she did not know! It is a
peety she did not know. For many's the time before--before--her hour
came on her, she would be afraid."

"But she was not afraid at the last, Mr. Macdonald?"

"Indeed, no. I wondered at her. She was like a babe in its mother's
arms. There was a light on her face, and I mind well what she said."
Macdonald paused. There was a stir in the kitchen, and Mrs. Murray,
glancing behind her, saw Ranald standing near the door intently
listening. Then Macdonald went on. "I mind well the words, as if it was
yesterday. 'Hugh, my man,' she said, 'am no feared' (she was from the
Lowlands, but she was a fine woman); 'I haena the marks, but 'm no
feared but He'll ken me. Ye'll tak' care o' Ranald, for, oh, Hugh! I ha'
gi'en him to the Lord. The Lord help you to mak' a guid man o' him.'"
Macdonald's voice faltered into silence, then, after a few moments, he
cried, "And oh! Mistress Murra', I cannot tell you the often these words
do keep coming to me; and it is myself that has not kept the promise I
made to her, and may the Lord forgive me."

The look of misery in the dark eyes touched Mrs. Murray to the heart.
She laid her hand on Macdonald's arm, but she could not find words to
speak. Suddenly Macdonald recalled himself.

"You will for