ow of death."'

'My uncle, and Thomas, and William have gone before you, auntie.'

'Ay'--with a satisfied smile--'they've gone before.'

'You know who I am?' he said again.

She knew him, and took leave of him. She took leave of each of her
daughters, but in a calm, weak way, as one who had waded too far into
the river of death to be much concerned with the things of earth.

The doctor pressed her hand, and the faithful nurse. The minister,
feeling that justice should be done to one whose wit had brought great
relief, bid the maid go forward.

She was weeping, but she spoke in the free, caressing way that she had
used so long.

'Ye know who I am, ma'am?'

The dying eyes looked her full in the face, but gave no recognition.

'It's Jeanie Trim.'

'Na, na, I remember a Jeanie Trim long syne, but you're not Jeanie
Trim!'

The maid drew back discomfited.

The minister began to repeat a psalm that she loved. The daughters sat
on the bedside, holding her hands. So they waited, and she seemed to
follow the meaning of the psalm as it went on, until suddenly----

She turned her head feebly towards a space by the bed where no one
stood. She drew her aged hands from her daughters', and made as if to
stretch them out to a new-comer. She smiled.

'Mr. Kinnaird!' she murmured; then she died.

'You might have thought that he was there himself,' said the daughters,
awestruck.

And the minister said within himself, 'Who knows but that he was
there?'

II

A MARRIAGE MADE IN HEAVEN

In the backwoods of Canada, about eighty miles north of Lake Ontario,
there is a chain of three lakes, linked by the stream of a rapid river,
which leads southward from the heart of a great forest. The last of the
three lakes is broad, and has but a slow current because of a huge dam
which the early Scottish settlers built across its mouth in order to
form a basin to receive the lumber floated down from the lakes above.
Hence this last lake is called Haven, which is also the name of the
settlement at the side of the dam. The worthy Scotsmen, having set up a
sawmill, built a church beside it, and by degrees a town and a
schoolhouse. The wealth of the town came from the forest. The half-breed
Indian lumber-men, toiling anxiously to bring their huge tree-trunks
through the twisting rapids, connected all thoughts of rest and plenty
with the peaceful Haven Lake and the town where they received their
wages; and, perhaps because they