can hardly hope to
see it, though that would matter little if it were the best thing for
you. But what is to come after?" asked his mother with a sigh.

John could not tell her that. But there was nothing more certain than
that when he should be "thoroughly furnished," the right work would be
found--the very highest work--and a kind of life which would suit him,
though he might not grow rich in it.

"John," said his mother gravely, "I hardly think all that would help you
to live a better life than your father lived. It is not the _kind_ of
work that matters; it is the way it is done. Your father did his duty
in the sight of God and man, and went far beyond what folk whiles call
duty, never letting his left hand ken what his right hand was doing.
And I have ay hoped that ye might follow in his steps. It is like a
slight on your father, John, when ye speak of higher work."

"Mother! you cannot really think that of me! And, mother, you must mind
that my father meant me to do as I wish to do. It is only to begin a
little later than he hoped. And there is no fear but I shall see my
work when I am ready for it."

"And yet there is many a man in Scotland with a store o' book learning
who has done little work, or only ill work, for God and man. And even
with a good-will the opportunity doesna ay come."

"Well, never mind, mother. There is no pressing need to decide now, at
least till summer is over. We will wait to see what may happen." He
did not speak cheerfully, however.

"John," said his mother earnestly, "are ye sure that your heart is set
on this? What has come to you? Has anything happened to unsettle you,
lad? Tell your mother, John."

John laughed as he rose and then stooped down and kissed her.

"Nothing has happened. It is quite possible that you are right and that
I am wrong. We will just wait and see, and decide the matter later.
Even if we have to leave Nethermuir, it need not be till summer is over.
I am sorry that I have troubled you with this now. You will vex
yourself thinking about it all."

"'Deed I'll do nothing of the kind. I'll just leave it all in better
hands than either yours or mine. And as to your troubling me--Who has a
lad a right to trouble if it be not his ain mother? And when a' is
said, our way is laid out before us by Him who kens a' and cares for a'.
Why should I trouble myself taking thought to-day for the things o'
to-morrow? Go your ways to the manse, John,