the lump that had been gathering in his throat while his
father read, and he felt that to fail would be dreadful, so there was
silence still--

There was a little lingering round the fire after worship was over, but
when Arthur went quietly away the boys soon followed. Graeme would fain
have stayed to speak a few words to her father, on this first night of
his return. He was sitting gazing into the fire, with a face so grave
that his daughter's heart ached for his loneliness. But a peevish voice
from the cradle admonished her that she must to her task again, and so
with a quiet "good-night, papa," she took her little sister in her arms.
Up-stairs she went, murmuring tender words to her "wee birdie," her
"bonny lammie," her "little gentle dove," more than repaid for all her
weariness and care, by the fond nestling of the little head upon her
bosom; for her love, which was more a mother's than a sister's, made the
burden light.

The house was quiet at last. The boys had talked themselves to sleep,
and the minister had gone to his study again. This had been one of
Rosie's "weary nights." The voices of her brothers had wakened her in
the parlour, and Graeme had a long walk with the fretful child, before
she was soothed to sleep again. But she did sleep at last, and just as
Janet had finished her nightly round, shutting the windows and barring
the doors, Graeme crept down-stairs, and entered the kitchen. The red
embers still glowed on the hearth, but Janet was in the very act of
"resting the fire" for the night.

"Oh! Janet," said Graeme, "put on another peat. I'm cold, and I want
to speak to you."

"Miss Graeme! You up at this time o' the night! What ails yon cankered
fairy now?"

"Oh, Janet! She's asleep long ago, and I want to speak to you." And
before Janet could remonstrate, one of the dry peats set ready for the
morning fire was thrown on the embers, and soon blazed brightly up.
Graeme crouched down before it, with her arm over Janet's knee.

"Janet, what did your mother say? And oh! Janet, Arthur says my
father--" Turning with a sudden movement, Graeme let her head fall on
Janet's lap, and burst into tears. Janet tried to lift her face.

"Whist! Miss Graeme! What ails the lassie? It's no' the thought of
going awa', surely? You hae kenned this was to be a while syne. You
hae little to greet about, if you but kenned it--you, who are going
altogether."

"Janet, Arthur is to bide in Scotlan