"

Then he covered his eyes with his hand as though he were blinded.

"Dinna look at me sae, lass!" he cried, and fell on his knees, kissing
the picture, hugging it to him and sobbing passionately.

Red Wull came up and pushed his face compassionately into his master's;
but the little man shoved him roughly away, and the dog retreated into a
corner, abashed and reproachful.

Memories swarmed back on the little man.

It was more than a decade ago now, and yet he dared barely think of that
last evening when she had lain so white and still in the little room
above.

"Pit the bairn on the bed, Adam man," she had said in low tones. "I'll
be gaein' in a wee while noo. It's the lang good-by to you--and him."

He had done her bidding and lifted David up. The tiny boy lay still a
moment, looking at this white-faced mother whom he hardly recognized.

"Minnie!" he called piteously. Then, thrusting a small, dirty hand into
his pocket, he pulled out a grubby sweet.

"Minnie, ha' a sweetie--ain o' Davie's sweeties!" and he held it out
anxiously in his warm plump palm, thinking it a certain cure for any
ill.

"Eat it for mither," she said, smiling tenderly; and then: "Davie, ma
heart, I'm leavin' ye."

The boy ceased sucking the sweet, and looked at her, the corners of his
mouth drooping pitifully.

"Ye're no gaein' awa', mither?" he asked, his face all working. "Ye'll
no leave yen wee laddie?"

"Ay, laddie, awa'--reet awa'. HE's callin' me." She tried to smile; but
her mother's heart was near to bursting.

"Ye'll tak' yen wee Davie wi' ye mither!" the child pleaded, crawling up
toward her face.

The great tears rolled, unrestrained, down her wan cheeks, and M'Adam,
at the head of the bed, was sobbing openly.

"Eh, ma bairn, ma bairn, I'm sair to leave ye!" she cried brokenly.
"Lift him for me, Adam."

He placed the child in her arms; but she was too weak to hold him. So he
laid him upon his mother's pillows; and the boy wreathed his soft arms
about her neck and sobbed tempestuously.

And the two lay thus together.

Just before she died, Flora turned her head and whispered:

"Adam, ma man, ye'll ha' to be mither and father baith to the lad noo";
and she looked at him with tender confidence in her dying eyes.

"I wull! afore God as I stan' here I wull!" he declared passionately.
Then she died, and there was a look of ineffable peace upon her face.

* * * * *

"Mither and fath