"Grand words, and grand folk, Maggie; but there are far grander than thae
be."

"Than kings, and queens, and braw knights and fair leddies?" "Ay, what are
thae to angels and archangels, powers and dominions, purity, faith, hope,
charity? Naething at a'."

"Maybe; but I wish I could see them, and I wish I could see the man who
wrote anent them, and I wish you could write a book like it, Davie."

"Me! I have an ambition beyond the like o' that. To be His messenger and
speak the words o' truth and salvation to the people! Oh Maggie, if I
could win at that office, I wouldna envy king nor knight, no, nor the poet
himsel'."

"Did you see the minister?"

"Ay; bring your chair near me, and I'll tell you what he said. You'll be
to hear it, and as weel now, as again."

"Surely he had the kind word to-day, and you that fu' o' sorrow?"

"He meant to be kind. Surely he meant to be kind. He sent me word to come
up to his study, and wee Mysie Balmuto took me there. Eh, Maggie, if I had
a room like that! It was fu' o' books; books frae the floor to the
roof-place. He was standing on the hearth wi' his back to the fire, and
you ken hoo he looks at folk, through and through. 'Weel, Davie,' he said,
'what's brought you o'er the hills through wind and rain pour? Had you
work that must be pushed in spite o' His work?'"