A minute after she whispered, "Pray for me," and he cried, "My
mother, my mother."

It was a full prayer, and left nothing unasked of Mary's Son.

"John," said his aunt, "your mother is with the Lord," and he saw
death for the first time, but it was beautiful with the peace that
passeth all understanding.

Five years had passed, crowded with thought and work, and his aunt
wondered whether he remembered that last request, or indeed had
heard it in his sorrow.

"What are you thinking about, aunt? Are you afraid of my theology?"

"No, John, it's no that, laddie, for I ken ye 'ill say what ye
believe to be true withoot fear o' man," and she hesitated.

"Come, out with it, auntie: you're my only mother now, you know,"
and the minister put his arm round her, "as well as the kindest,
bonniest, goodest auntie ever man had."

Below his student self-conceit he was a good lad, and sound of
heart.

"Shame on you, John, to make a fule o' an auld dune body, but ye'll
no come round me with yir flattery. I ken ye ower weel," and as she
caught the likeness in his face, her eyes filled suddenly.