But he's vexed me, and set himself agin me, and stiffened my back,
and ye ken hoo I was aye quick to tak' offence. But I'll mak' it up to
him--mak' it up to him, and mair. I'll humble masel' afore him, and
that'll be bitter enough. And I'll be father and mither baith to him.
But there's bin none to help me; and it's bin sair wi'oot ye. And--.
but, eh, lassie, I'm wearyin' for ye!"

It was a dreary little procession that wound in the drizzle from
Kenmuir to the little Dale Church. At the head stalked James
Moore, and close behind David in his meagre coat. While last of
all, as if to guide the stragglers in the weary road, come Owd Bob.

There was a full congregation in the tiny church now. In the
squire's pew were Cyril Gilbraith, Muriel Sylvester, and, most
conspicuous, Lady Eleanour. Her slender figure was simply draped
in gray, with gray fur about the neck and gray fur edging sleeves
and jacket; her veil was lifted, and you could see the soft kair
about her temples, like waves breaking on white cliffs, and her
eyes big with tender sympathy as she glanced toward the pew upon
her right.

For there were the mourners from Kenmuir: the Master, tall, grim,
and gaunt; and beside him Maggie, striving to be calm, and little
Andrew, the miniature of his father.

Alone, in the pew behind, David M'Adam in his father's coat.

The back of the church was packed with farmers from the whole
March Mere Estate; friends from Silverdale and Grammoch-town;
and nearly every soul in Wastrel-dale, come to show their