e and there about the kitchen and out of
it, that he might have his tea in peace. When his meal was finished and
the dishes put away, she sat down again, and another glance at the bowed
head and the wrinkled, careworn face, gave her courage to say:

"I am sorry for your trouble."

Saunners answered with a sigh.

"Ye must be worn out wi' that lang road and your heavy heart."

"Ay. It was far past gloaming o' the second day ere I wore to the end
o' the journey. The langest twa days o' a lang life they were to me.
But it was her wish to be laid there wi' her ain folk, and I bid to gie
her that last pleasure. But it was a lang road to me and Girzzie, too,
puir beast."

"And had ye no friend to be with ye all that time?"

Saunners shook his head.

"Peter Gilchrist offered to go wi' me. But he was ahind with his farm
work, an' I wasna needin' him. Twa folk may shorten a lang day to ane
anither, but it's no ay done to edification. But the warst o' a' was
coming hame to a forsaken hoose."

The old man shivered at the remembrance and his grey head drooped lower.

"I'm sorry for your trouble," repeated Allison. "It's the forsaken home
that at first seems the worst to bear."

"Ay, do ye ken that? Weel, mine's a forsaken hoose. She was but a
feckless bodie, and no' ay that easy to deal wi', but she's a sair miss
in the hoose. And I hae but begun wi't," added Saunners with a sigh.
Then there was a long silence. "It's a bonny place yon, where I laid
her down," said he at last, as if he was going on with his own thoughts.
"It's a bonny spot on a hillside, lying weel to the sun, wi' a brown
burn at the foot. I got a glimpse over the wall of the manse garden.
The minister's an auld man, they say. I didna trouble him. He could
hae dane nae gude either to her or to me. It's a fine, quiet spot to
rest in. I dinna wonder that my Eppie minded on it at last, and had a
longing to lie there with her kin. It is a place weel filled--weel
filled indeed."

Allison's work had fallen on her lap, and she sat with parted lips and
eager eyes gazing at him as he went on.

"I saw the name o' Bain on a fine new headstane there. An only son had
put it up over his father and his mother, within a few months, they
said. I took notice of it because o' a man that came in and stood
glowering at it as we were finishing our job. It was wi' nae gude
intent that he cam', I doubt. He was ane that middled with maist things
in the pa