very picture, Marion, as like you as--God forbid that she ever be like
you!"

The wretched mother was unable to resist the energy of her sister's
appeal, and, bursting into tears, wept bitterly for some time.

Elspa, compassionating her contrition, rose, and, taking her kindly by
the hand, said, "Come, Marion, we'll gang hame--let us leave this guilty
city--let us tarry no longer within its walls--the curse of Heaven is
darkening over it, and the storm of the hatred of its corruption is
beginning to lighten:--let us flee from the wrath that is to come."

"I'll no gang back to Crail--I dare na gang there--everyone would haud
out their fingers at me--I canna gang to Crail--Eppie, dinna bid
me--I'll mak away wi' mysel' before I'll gang to Crail."

"Dinna say that," replied her sister: "O, Marion, if ye felt within the
humiliation of a true penitent, ye would na speak that way, but would
come and hide your face in your poor mother's bosom; often, often,
Marion, did she warn you no to be ta'en up wi' the pride an' bravery of
a fine outside."

"Ye may gang hame yoursel'," exclaimed the impenitent woman, starting
from her seat; "I'll no gang wi' you to be looket down on by every one.
If I should hae had a misfortune, nane's the sufferer but mysel'; and
what would I hae to live on wi' my mother? She's pinched enough for her
ain support. No; since I hae't in my power, I'll tak my pleasure o't.
Onybody can repent when they like, and it's no convenient yet for me.
Since I hae slippit the tether, I may as well tak a canter o'er the
knowes. I won'er how I could be sae silly as to sit sae lang willy-waing
wi' you about that blethering bodie, James Kilspinnie. He could talk o'
naething but the town-council, the cost o' plaiding, and the price o'
woo'. No, Eppie, I'll no gang wi' you, but I'll be glad if ye'll gang
o'er the gait and tak your bed wi' me. I hae a braw bower--and, let me
tell you, this is no a house of the best repute."

"Is yours ony better?" replied Elspa, fervently. "No, Marion; sooner
would I enter the gates of death, than darken your guilty door. Shame
upon you, shame!--But the sweet Heavens, in their gracious hour of
mercy, will remember the hope that led me here, and some day work out a
blessed change. The prayers of an afflicted parent, and the cries of
your desolate babies, will assuredly bring down upon you the purifying
fires of self-condemnation. Though a wicked pride at this time withholds
you from sub