and belike we shall soon be with her. Anyhow, God's will be done."

"Dear Gregory," I muttered, and crept nearer to him for warmth. He was
talking still, and again about our mother, when I fell asleep. In an
instant--or so it seemed--there were many voices about me--many faces
hovering round me--the sweet luxury of warmth was stealing into every
part of me. I was in my own little bed at home. I am thankful to say,
my first word was "Gregory?"

A look passed from one to another--my father's stern old face strove in
vain to keep its sternness; his mouth quivered, his eyes filled slowly
with unwonted tears.

"I would have given him half my land--I would have blessed him as my
son,--oh God! I would have knelt at his feet, and asked him to forgive
my hardness of heart."

I heard no more. A whirl came through my brain, catching me back to
death.

I came slowly to my consciousness, weeks afterwards. My father's hair
was white when I recovered, and his hands shook as he looked into my
face.

We spoke no more of Gregory. We could not speak of him; but he was
strangely in our thoughts. Lassie came and went with never a word of
blame; nay, my father would try to stroke her, but she shrank away; and
he, as if reproved by the poor dumb beast, would sigh, and be silent and
abstracted for a time.