"Yes--gone! 'Garthowen shall not die of grief while I can help him,'
she said; 'I am going a long journey, child, and ye must not grieve for
me; I will come back and bring joy and comfort with me.' That's what
she said," and Morva nodded her head emphatically. "Oh, she will come,
she will come, as she has promised, and bring you comfort; what it will
be I cannot tell," and leaning her head coaxingly on the old man's arm
she asked, in a playful tone of mystery, "now what can it be, this
great blessing she is going to bring you?"

"I don't know," said the old man, taking scant interest in her
surmises; he was thinking how he would bear this fresh loss!

"But what do you think?"

"A Bible, perhaps."

"A Bible!" said Morva impatiently, "no--no, not a Bible; Sara knows you
have plenty of them at Garthowen, and she has too much sense to bring
you another--no! 'tisn't that! but oh, what will it be, I wonder?"

And day after day this was the question that ran through her thoughts,
"What will it be, I wonder?"

Sitting down to her milking she sang with full voice once more the old
song which Daisy loved. Of late her voice had been very low, and the
song scarcely reached beyond Daisy's sleek sides, but to-day it came
back, and the farmyard was filled with happy melody.

Everything went on as usual in the farm. Ann tried to let no