birth and manners to receive the visit, and to make her house agreeable
to Miss Bertram. A home, therefore, and an hospitable reception were
secured to her, and she went on with better heart to pay the wages and
receive the adieus of the few domestics of her father's family.

Where there are estimable qualities on either side, this task is always
affecting; the present circumstances rendered it doubly so. All received
their due, and even a trifle more, and with thanks and good wishes, to
which some added tears, took farewell of their young mistress. There
remained in the parlour only Mr. Mac-Morlan, who came to attend his guest
to his house, Dominie Sampson, and Miss Bertram. 'And now,' said the poor
girl, 'I must bid farewell to one of my oldest and kindest friends. God
bless you, Mr. Sampson, and requite to you all the kindness of your
instructions to your poor pupil, and your friendship to him that is gone.
I hope I shall often hear from you.' She slid into his hand a paper
containing some pieces of gold, and rose, as if to leave the room.

Dominie Sampson also rose; but it was to stand aghast with utter
astonishment. The idea of parting from Miss Lucy, go where she might, had
never once occurred to the simplicity of his understanding. He laid the
money on the table. 'It is certainly inadequate,' said Mac-Morlan,
mistaking his meaning, 'but the circumstances--'

Mr. Sampson waved his hand impatiently.--'It is not the lucre, it is not
the lucre; but that I, that have ate of her father's loaf, and drank of
his cup, for twenty years and more--to think that I am going to leave
her, and to leave her in distress and dolour! No, Miss Lucy, you need
never think it! You would not consent to put forth your father's poor
dog, and would you use me waur than a messan? No, Miss Lucy Bertram,
while I live I will not separate from you. I'll be no burden; I have
thought how to prevent that. But, as Ruth said unto Naomi, "Entreat me
not to leave thee, nor to depart from thee; for whither thou goest I will
go, and where thou dwellest I will dwell; thy people shall be my people,
and thy God shall be my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will
I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death do
part thee and me."'

During this speech, the longest ever Dominie Sampson was known to utter,
the affectionate creature's eyes streamed with tears, and neither Lucy
nor Mac-Morlan could refrain from sympathising wit