d over the features of the
child. At length, with her hands still resting upon Annie's head, she
uttered her judgment.

"Ay. Some like him, nae doot. But she'll be a heap liker him whan she
sees him as he is."

When a Christian proceeds to determine the rightness of his neighbour
by his approximation to his fluctuating ideal, it were well if the
judgment were tempered by such love as guided the hands of blind Tibbie
over the face of Annie in their attempt to discover whether or not she
was like the Christ of her visions.

"Do ye think _ye_'re like him, Tibbie?" said Annie with a smile, which
Tibbie at once detected in the tone.

"Hoots, bairn! I had the pock dreidfu', ye ken."

"Weel, maybe we a' hae had something or ither that hauds us ohn been
sae bonny as we micht hae been. For ae thing, there's the guilt o'
Adam's first sin, ye ken."

"Verra richt, bairn. Nae doot that's blaudit mony a face--'the want o'
original richteousness, and the corruption o' our whole natur'.' The
wonner is that we're like him at a'. But we maun be like him, for he
was a man born o' a wumman.' Think o' that, lass!"

At this moment the latch of the door was lifted, and in walked Robert
Bruce. He gave a stare when he saw Annie, for he had thought her out of
the way at Howglen, and said in a tone of asperity,

"Ye're a' gait at ance, Annie Anderson. A doonricht rintheroot!"

"Lat the bairn be, Maister Bruce," said Tibbie. "She's doin' the Lord's
will, whether ye may think it or no. She's visitin' them 'at's i' the
prison-hoose o' the dark. She's ministerin' to them 'at hae mony
preeviledges nae doot, but hae room for mair."

"I'm no saying naething," said Bruce.

"Ye are sayin'. Ye're offendin' ane o' his little anes. Tak ye tent o'
the millstane."

"Hoot toot! Tibbie. I was only wissin 'at she wad keep a sma' part o'
her ministrations for her ain hame and her ain fowk 'at has the
ministerin' to her. There's the mistress and me jist mairtyrs to that
chop! And there's the bit infant in want o' some _ministration_ noo and
than, gin that be what ye ca' 't."

A grim compression of the mouth was all Tibbie's reply. She did not
choose to tell Robert Bruce that although she was blind--and probably
_because_ she was blind--she heard rather more gossip than anybody else
in Glamerton, and that consequently his appeal to her sympathy had no
effect upon her. Finding she made no other answer, Bruce turned to
Annie.

"Noo, Annie," said he,