ragedy of Jess's life.

Twenty years ago, and still Jess sat at the window, and still she heard
that woman scream. Every other living being had forgotten Joey; even
to Hendry he was now scarcely a name, but there were times when Jess's
face quivered and her old arms went out for her dead boy.

"God's will be done," she said, "but oh, I grudged Him my bairn
terrible sair. I dinna want him back noo, an' ilka day is takkin' me
nearer to him, but for mony a lang year I grudged him sair, sair. He
was juist five minutes gone, an' they brocht him back deid, my Joey."

On the Sabbath day Jess could not go to church, and it was then, I
think, that she was with Joey most. There was often a blessed serenity
on her face when we returned, that only comes to those who have risen
from their knees with their prayers answered. Then she was very close
to the boy who died. Long ago she could not look out from her window
upon the brae, but now it was her seat in church. There on the Sabbath
evenings she sometimes talked to me of Joey.

"It's been a fine day," she would say, "juist like that day. I thank
the Lord for the sunshine noo, but oh, I thocht at the time I couldna
look at the sun shinin' again."

"In all Thrums," she has told me, and I know it to be true, "there's no
a better man than Hendry. There's them 'at's cleverer in the wys o'
the world, but my man, Hendry McQumpha, never did naething in all his
life 'at wasna weel intended, an' though his words is common, it's to
the Lord he looks. I canna think but what Hendry's pleasin' to God.
Oh, I dinna ken what to say wi' thankfulness to Him when I mind hoo
guid he's been to me. There's Leeby 'at I couldna hae done withoot, me
bein sae silly (weak bodily), an' ay Leeby's stuck by me an' gien up
her life, as ye micht say, for me. Jamie--"

But then Jess sometimes broke down.

"He's so far awa," she said, after a time, "an' aye when he gangs back
to London after his holidays he has a fear he'll never see me again,
but he's terrified to mention it, an' I juist ken by the wy he taks
haud o' me, an' comes runnin' back to tak haud o' me again. I ken fine
what he's thinkin', but I daurna speak.

"Guid is no word for what Jamie has been to me, but he wasna born till
after Joey died. When we got Jamie, Hendry took to whistlin' again at
the loom, an' Jamie juist filled Joey's place to him. Ay, but naebody
could fill Joey's place to me. It's different to a man. A bairn's