"Yon's her step ... an' she's carryin' a licht in her hand; a' see it
through the door.

"Mither! a' kent ye wudna forget yir laddie for ye promised tae come,
and a've feenished ma psalm.

"And in God's house for evermore
My dwelling-place shall be.

"Gie me the kiss, mither, for a've been waitin' for ye, an' a'll sune be
asleep."

The grey morning light fell on Drumsheugh, still holding his friend's
cold hand, and staring at a hearth where the fire had died down into
white ashes; but the peace on the doctor's face was of one who rested
from his labours.