woman will count life itself a small sacrifice for love," and Kate went
over to the grave.

A thrush was singing as they turned to go, and nothing was said on the
way home till they came near the Lodge.

"Who can that be going in, Kate? He seems a padre."

"I do not know, unless it be our fellow traveller from Muirtown; but he
has been redressing himself, and is not improved.

"Father," and Kate stayed the General, as they crossed the threshold of
their home, "we have seen many beautiful things to-day, for which I
thank you; but the greatest was love."

CHAPTER VII.

A WOMAN OF THE NEW DISPENSATION.

Carmichael's aunt, who equipped his house, was determined on one point,
and would not hear of a clerical housekeeper for her laddie. Margaret
Meiklewham--a woman of a severe countenance, and filled with the spirit
of the Disruption--who had governed the minister of Pitscowrie till his
decease, and had been the terror of callow young probationers, offered
herself, and gave instances of her capability.

"Gin ye leave yir nephew in my hands, ye needna hae ony mair concern.
A 'll manage him fine, an' hand him on the richt road. Ye may lippen
tae 't, a' wesna five and thirty year wi' Maister MacWheep for naethin'.

"He wes a wee fractious and self-willed at the off-go, an' wud be
wantin' this an' that for his denner, but he sune learned tae tak' what
wes pit afore him; an' as for gaein' oot withoot tellin' me, he wud as
sune hae thocht o' fleein'; when he cam' in he keepit naethin' back at
his tea.

"Preachin' wes kittle wark in Pitscoorie, for the fouk were awfu'
creetics, though they didna maybe think sae muckle o' themselves as
Drumtochty. A' aye githered their jidgment through the week, an' gin
he hed made a slip meddling wi' warks or sic-like in his sermon, it wes
pit richt next Sabbath, and sovereignty whuppit in at the feenish.

"Ye ken the Auld Kirk hes tae be watchit like a cat wi' a moose, an'
though a' say it as sudna, Maister MacWheep wud hae made a puir job o'
the business himsel'. The pairish meenister wes terrible plausible,
an' askit oor man tae denner afore he wes settled in his poopit, an' he
wes that simple, he wud hae gaen," and Margaret indicated by an
uplifting of her eyebrows the pitiable innocence of MacWheep.

"Ye guidit him, nae doot?" inquired Carmichael's aunt, with interest.

"'Maister MacWheep,' says I," and Miss Meiklewham's lips were very
firm, "'a 'll no deny that the