as not suitable for the Sabbath night. Then
Robin rose to go, and John went with him to the door. But he did not
linger there, or go out for a turn in the lane as he sometimes did, and
as his mother thought he would be sure to do. He came in and fell to
mending the fire again "for a last blaze," as he said.

"And, mother, is not it near time that we were beginning to think of the
flitting that is before us?"

"It's early days yet, John," said his mother.

"And you will be loth to leave your little home, mother dear?"

"It has been home to us both, John, and I like the place. But any place
will be home to me where you are, and if you think it wise to go I'll
soon be ready. And so ye have made up your mind to go to the college,
John?"

"I am not sure yet, but it is likely. Whether I do or not, I must be in
Aberdeen all the winter, and I will be happier and safer in my mother's
house than anywhere else. But I am sorry to disturb you, mother. Ye
have got used with the place and are happy here."

"I can be happy anywhere where it is wise and right for you to be. But
it is only August yet, and there is time enough to think about it."

"Yes, there is no hurry. But there are arrangements to be made. And
mother I have been thinking, how would it do for us to have Robin with
us for the winter? It would be a satisfaction to his father and mother,
and a safeguard to him."

"Surely, if you wish it. It will make a difference, but only a cheerful
difference. And it is a small thing to do for them who have been ay so
friendly."

"Well, that is settled then, and I will look out for rooms, or for a wee
house--that will be better wouldna it, mother dear?"

He did not need to ask. Anything that would please him would please his
mother also. But she was not so cheerful and eager about this as she
generally was about new plans and arrangements, John thought, and after
a little they fell into silence.

John woke his mother out of her morning sleep when he came to bid her
good-bye. She had only a single word to say to him:

"Dinna be long in coming home again, John," said she. And he promised
that he would not be long.

He kept his promise, coming even sooner than he was expected, and when
his mother saw his face she was glad. For there was on it no sign of
either gloom or grieving. It was John, "at his best and bonniest," she
said to herself with a glad heart, as he sat for a little while beside
her bed, fo