he visitor, in the same suit of hodden-grey, again entered,
passed the bolt, took off her plaid, hung it up, and began the duties
which she thought were suited to the day and the hour. So much being
thus alike, the couple in the bedroom no doubt augured a repetition of
the old process. They were right, and they were wrong. Their eyes were
fixed upon her, and watched her movements; but the watch was that of the
charmed eye, which is said to be without motive. They saw her once more
go deliberately and tentily through the old process of putting on the
fire, and they heard again the application of the bellows, every blast
succeeding another with the regularity of a clock, until the kitchen was
illuminated by the rising flame. This was all that could be called a
repetition; for in place of going for the porridge goblet, she went
direct for the tea-kettle, into which she poured a sufficient quantity
of water, saying the while to herself, "Tammas maun hae his tea
breakfast on Sabbath morning"--words which Thomas, as he now lay quaking
in bed, knew very well he had heard before many a time and oft. Nor were
the subsequent acts less in accordance with the old custom of the
dwelling. There was no sweeping of the floor or scouring of pans on the
sacred morning; in place of all which she had something else to do, for
surely we must suppose that this gentle visitor was a good Calvinist,
and would perform only the acts of necessity and mercy. These she had
done in so far as regarded necessity, and now they saw her go to the
shelf on which the Bible was deposited--a book which, alas! for seven
years had not been opened by either of the guilty pair. Having got what
she wanted, she sat down by the table, opened the volume at a place well
thumbed, and began to read aloud a chapter in the Corinthians, which
Thomas Dodds, the more by reason that he had heard it read two hundred
and fifty times, knew by heart. This being finished, she turned up a
psalm, yea, that very psalm which Janet Dodds had sung every Sunday
morning, and, presently, the kitchen was resonant with the rising notes
of the Bangor, as they came from a throat trembling with devotion--

"I waited on the Lord my God,
And patiently did bear;
At length to me He did incline
My voice and cry to hear.

"He took me from a fearful pit,
And from the miry clay,
And on a rock He set my feet,
Establishing my way."

The service finished, they saw her replace