e
needed for her bairns; and Mrs. Galloway, o' Little Lochend, slipt in to
me a peck o' meal ae morning when I had naething for breakfast."

"And these shall be at our marriage, Mary," said he. "They shall be
dressed to make their eyes doubtful if they are themselves. John Gilmour
will wonder how these pounds of his rent he passed you from have grown
to hundreds; Mrs. Paterson's shilling will have grown as the widow's
mite never grew, even in heaven; and Mrs. Galloway's peck of meal will
be made like the widow's cruse of oil--it will never be finished while
she is on earth."

Whereupon Mary raised her head. The blank eyes were turned upon him, and
something like a smile played over the thin and wasted face. At the same
moment a fair-haired girl of twelve years came jumping into the room,
and only stopped when she saw a stranger.

"That is Helen Kemp," said Mary, who knew her movements. "I forgot
Helen; she lights my fire, and when I was able to gae out used to lead
me to the Park."

"And she shall be one of the favoured ones of the earth," said he, as he
took by the hand the girl, whom the few words from Mary had made sacred
to him, adding, "Helen, dear, you are to be kinder to Mary than you have
ever been;" and, slipping into the girl's hand a guinea, he whispered,
"You shall have as many of these as will be a bigger tocher to you than
you ever dreamed of, for what you have done for Mary Brown."

And thus progressed to a termination a scene, perhaps more extraordinary
than ever entered into the head of a writer of natural things and events
not beyond the sphere of the probable. Nor did what afterwards took
place fall short of the intentions of a man whose intense yearnings to
make up for what had been lost led him into the extravagance of a vain
fancy. He next day took a great house, and forthwith furnished it in
proportion to his wealth. He hired servants in accordance, and made all
the necessary arrangements for the marriage. Time, which had been so
cruel to him and his sacred Mary, was put under the obligation of
retribution. John Gilmour, Mrs. Paterson, Mrs. Galloway, and Helen Kemp
were those, and those alone, privileged to witness the ceremony. We
would not like to describe how they were decked out, nor shall we try to
describe the ceremony itself. But vain are the aspirations of man when
he tries to cope with the Fates! The changed fortune was too much for
the frail and wasted bride to bear. She swooned at