have just been giving him a good hot cup of tea; for he never touches
wine or spirits."

She was evidently betrayed by my apparent lack of inquisitiveness into
a relation of the details I was longing to hear.

"To think," she continued, "of the creature walking down in such
weather, and he such a frail old mortal, too, just to make sure of Mass
to-morrow for his wife's anniversary. I can't help thinking, Mr.
Edmund, that some of us might take an example in many things from poor
old Archie McLean!"

"Does he live far away?" I asked--just to encourage the flow of the
narrative.

"A good three miles--and his rheumatism something hawful," exclaimed
Penny, now thoroughly started on her recital. I had but to lend an
ear, and my curiosity would be satisfied.

Archie, it appeared, had been a soldier in his young days, but when he
came to settle in Ardmuirland his time of service had expired; that was
long ago, for he was now quite an elderly man. He took up his
residence in a deserted mill, by the Ardmuir Burn. As he proved to be
thoroughly quiet and inoffensive, the neighbors--true to their national
character, not speedily attracted by strangers--began in course of time
to make his acquaintance, and he eventually became a great favorite
with all. When younger, Penny had been told, he had been "a wonderful
good gardener," and for trifling payment, or in return for a meal,
would always "redd-up" the gardens of the district. Thus he acquired
the designation of "Airchie Gairdener," and by that was usually known.