mbie," said Mrs Beaton when she heard his voice.
"I have been wishing to see you this while."

Then there were a few words spoken between them about the sorrow which
had come upon him, and of his wife's last days, and of the long journey
he had taken to lay her in the grave. Saunners told of the bonny, quiet
place on the hillside, where he had laid her down, and before he had
taken time to consider, the name of Allison Bain had been uttered.

"I saw the names of her father and her mother--`John Bain and Allison
his wife'--on a fine, new headstane that had been put over them by their
son. They hae been dead a year and more. Decent folk they seem to hae
been. He farmed his ain land. I heard about it from a wee bowed wifie
who was there in the kirkyard. She had something to say o' Allison Bain
as well."

And then Crombie came to a pause. Mrs Beaton was startled by his
words, but kept silence, for she saw that he had not meant to speak.
But in a little he went on.

"It was a queer story that she told altogether, and I hae been in a
swither as to what I was to do with it, or if I was to do anything with
it. I cam' the day to speak to your son aboot it, but taking a' the
possibeelities into consideration, I'm no' sure but what I hae to say
should be said to a prudent woman like yoursel'. I would be loth to
harm the lass."

"I will never believe an ill word of Allison Bain till she shall say it
to me with her own lips," said Mrs Beaton, speaking low.

"Weel, I have no ill to say o' her. There was no ill spoken o' her to
me. That is, the woman thought no ill, but quite the contrary--though
mair micht be said. Ye're her friend, it seems, and should ken her
better than I do. I'se tell ye all I ken mysel', though it was to ye're
son I meant to tell it."

"And why to my son?" asked Mrs Beaton gravely.

It is possible that Crombie might have given a different answer if the
door had not opened to admit John himself. The two men had met before
in the course of the day, and all had been said which was necessary to
be said about the death and burial of Crombie's wife, and in a minute
Crombie turned to Mrs Beaton again.

"As to the reason that I had for thinkin' to speak to your son, there
was naebody else that I could weel speak to about it. No' the minister,
nor his wife. It would be a pity to unsettle them, or to give them
anxious thoughts, and that maybe without sufficient reason. And John's
a sensible lad