a couthy word for sick fouk. Weemen hae nae discernment,
Milton; tae hear them speak ye wud think MacLure hed been a releegious
man like yersel, although, as ye said, he wes little mair than a Gallio.

"Bell Baxter was haverin' awa in the shop tae sic an extent aboot the wy
MacLure brocht roond Saunders when he hed the fever that a' gied oot at
the door, a' wes that disgusted, an' a'm telt when Tammas Mitchell heard
the news in the smiddy he wes juist on the greeting.

"The smith said that he wes thinkin' o' Annie's tribble, but ony wy a'
ca' it rael bairnly. It's no like Drumtochty; ye're setting an example,
Milton, wi' yir composure. But a' mind ye took the doctor's meesure as
sune as ye cam intae the pairish."

It is the penalty of a cynic that he must have some relief for his
secret grief, and Milton began to weary of life in Jamie's hands
during those days.

Drumtochty was not observant in the matter of health, but they had grown
sensitive about Dr. MacLure, and remarked in the kirkyard all summer
that he was failing.

"He wes aye spare," said Hillocks, "an' he's been sair twisted for the
laist twenty year, but a' never mind him booed till the year. An' he's
gaein' intae sma' buke (bulk), an' a' dinna like that, neeburs.

"The Glen wudna dae weel withoot Weelum MacLure, an' he's no as young as
he wes. Man, Drumsheugh, ye micht wile him aff tae the saut water atween
the neeps and the hairst. He's been workin' forty year for a holiday,
an' it's aboot due."

Drumsheugh was full of tact, and met MacLure quite by accident on the
road.

"Saunders'll no need me till the shearing begins," he explained to the
doctor, "an' a'm gaein' tae Brochty for a turn o' the hot baths; they're
fine for the rheumatics.

[Illustration]

"Wull ye no come wi' me for auld lang syne? it's lonesome for a solitary
man, an' it wud dae ye gude."

"Na, na, Drumsheugh," said MacLure, who understood perfectly, "a've dune
a' thae years withoot a break, an' a'm laith (unwilling) tae be takin'
holidays at the tail end.

"A'll no be mony months wi' ye a' thegither noo, an' a'm wanting tae
spend a' the time a' hev in the Glen. Ye see yersel that a'll sune be
getting ma lang rest, an' a'll no deny that a'm wearyin' for it."

As autumn passed into winter, the Glen noticed that the doctor's hair
had turned grey, and that his manner had lost all its roughness. A
feeling of secret gratitude filled their hearts, and they united in a
conspiracy