to myself ilka hour of the day, and I believe it
surely. But oh, mother," Janet's voice failed her. She could say no
more.

"I ken weel, Janet," continued her mother, gravely, "it will be a great
charge and responsibility to you, and I dare say whiles you are ready to
run away from it. But you'll do better for them than any living woman
could do. The love you bear them, will give you wisdom to guide them,
and when strength is needed, there's no fear but you'll get it. The
back is aye fitted for the burden. Let them gang or let them bide, you
canna leave them now."

She turned her face away from her mother, and for her life Janet could
not have told whether the tears that were streaming down her cheeks,
were falling for joy or for sorrow. There was to be no struggle between
her and her mother. That was well; but with the feeling of relief the
knowledge brought, there came a pang--a foretaste of the home-sickness,
which comes once, at least, to every wanderer from his country. By a
strong effort she controlled herself, and found voice to say,--

"I shall never leave them while they need me. I could be content to
toil for them always. But, ah! mother, the going awa' over the sea--"

Her voice failed her for a minute, then she added,--

"I hae wakened every mornin' with this verse of Jeremiah on my mind:
`Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him, but weep sore for him
that goeth away, for he shall return no more nor see his native
country.'" Janet made no secret of her tears now.

"Hoot fie, Janet, woman," said her mother, affecting anger to hide far
other feelings. "You are misapplyin' Scripture altogether. That was
spoken o' them that were to be carried away captive for their sins, and
no' o' honest folk, followin' the leadings o' Providence. If there's
ony application it's to me, I'm thinkin'. It's them that bide at hame
that are bidden weep sore;" and she seemed much inclined to follow the
injunction. She recovered in a minute, however, and added,--

"But I'm no' going to add to your trouble. You dinna need me to tell
you I'll have little left when you're awa'. But, if it's your duty to
go with them, it canna be your duty to bide with me. You winna lose
your reward striving in behalf o' these motherless bairns, and the Lord
will hae me and Sandy in his keeping, I dinna doubt."

There was a long silence after this. Each knew what the other suffered.
There was no need to speak of it, and s