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seen something and such as had not； the apparition was naturally
associated with the lost chamber； as the place whence the spectre
issued； and whither he returned。
Donal's spare hours were now much given to his friend Andrew Comin。
The good man had so far recovered as to think himself able to work
again； but he soon found it was little he could do。 His strength was
gone； and the exertion necessary to the lightest labour caused him
pain。 It was sad to watch him on his stool； now putting in a stitch；
now stopping because of the cough which so sorely haunted his thin；
wind…blown tent。 His face had grown white and thin； and he had
nearly lost his merriment； though not his cheerfulness； he never
looked other than content。 He had made up his mind he was not going
to get better； but to go home through a lingering illness。 He was
ready to go and ready to linger； as God pleased。
There was nothing wonderful in this； but to some good people even it
did appear wonderful that he showed no uneasiness as to how Doory
would fare when he was gone。 The house was indeed their own； but
there was no money in itnot even enough to pay the taxes； and if
she sold it； the price would not be enough to live upon。 The
neighbours were severe on Andrew's imagined indifference to his
wife's future； and it was in their eyes a shame to be so cheerful on
the brink of the grave。 Not one of them had done more than peep into
the world of faith in which Andrew lived。 Not one of them could have
understood that for Andrew to allow the least danger of evil to his
Doory； would have been to behold the universe rocking on the
slippery shoulders of Chance。
A little moan escaping her as she looked one evening into her
money…teapot； made Donal ask her a question or two。 She confessed
that she had but sixpence left。 Now Donal had spent next to nothing
since he came； and had therefore a few pounds in hand。 His father
and mother had sent back what he sent them； as being in need of
nothing： sir Gibbie was such a good son to them that they were
living in what they counted luxury： Robert doubted whether he was
not ministering to the flesh in allowing Janet to provide beef…brose
for him twice in the week！ So Donal was free to spend for his next
neighboursjust what his people； who were grand about money； would
have had him do。 Never in their cottage had a penny been wasted；
never one refused where was need。
〃An'rew；〃 he saidand found the mother…tongue here fittest〃I'm
thinkin' ye maun be growin' some short o' siller i' this time o'
warklessness！〃
〃'Deed； I wadna won'er！〃 answered Andrew。 〃Doory says naething aboot
sic triffles！〃
〃Weel；〃 rejoined Donal； 〃I thank God I hae some i' the ill pickle o'
no bein' wantit； an' sae in danger o' cankerin'； an' atween brithers
there sudna be twa purses！〃
〃Ye hae yer ain fowk to luik efter； sir！〃 said Andrew。
〃They're weel luikit efterbetter nor ever they war i' their lives；
they're as weel aff as I am mysel' up i' yon gran' castel。 They hae
a freen' wha but for them wad ill hae lived to be the great man he
is the noo； an' there's naething ower muckle for him to du for them；
sae my siller 's my ain； an' yours。 An'rew； an' Doory's！〃
The old man put him through a catechism as to his ways and means and
prospects； and finding that Donal believed as firmly as himself in
the care of the Master； and was convinced there was nothing that
Master would rather see him do with his money than help those who
needed it； especially those who trusted in him； he yielded。
〃It's no； ye see；〃 said Donal； 〃that I hae ony doobt o' the Lord
providin' gien I had failt； but he hauds the thing to my han'； jist
as muckle as gien he said； 'There's for you； Donal！' The fowk o'
this warl' michtna appruv； but you an' me kens better； An'rew。 We
ken there's nae guid in siller but do the wull o' the Lord wi'
'tan' help to ane anither is his dear wull。 It's no 'at he's short
o' siller himsel'； but he likes to gie anither a turn！〃
〃I'll tak it；〃 said the old man。
〃There's what I hae；〃 returned Donal。
〃Na； na； nane o' that！〃 said Andrew。 〃Ye're treatin' me like a
muckle； reivin'； sornin' beggarofferin' me a' that at ance！ Whaur
syne wad be the prolonged sweetness o' haein' 't i' portions frae
yer han'； as frae the neb o' an angel…corbie sent frae verra hame
wi' yer denner！〃Here a glimmer of the old merriment shone through
the worn look and pale eyes。〃Na； na； sir；〃 he went on； 〃jist talk
the thing ower wi' Doory； an' lat her hae what she wants an' nae
mair。 She wudna like it。 Wha kens what may came i' the
meantimeDeith himsel'； maybe！ Or seegie Doory a five shillins；
an' whan that's dune she can lat ye ken！〃
Donal was forced to leave it thus； but he did his utmost to impress
upon Doory that all he had was at her disposal。
〃I had new clothes；〃 he said； 〃before I came； I have all I want to
eat and drink； and for books； there's a whole ancient library at my
service！what possibly could I wish for more？ It's a mere luxury to
hand the money over to you； Doory！ I'm thinkin'； Doory；〃 for he had
by this time got to address her by her husband's name for her；
〃there's naebody i' this warl'； 'cep' the oonseen Lord himsel'；
lo'es yer man sae weel as you an' me； an' weel ken I you an' him wad
share yer last wi' me； sae I'm only giein' ye o' yer ain gude wull；
an' I'll doobt that gien ye takna sae lang as I hae。〃
Thus adjured； and satisfied that her husband was content； the old
woman made no difficulty。
CHAPTER XLIII。
EPPY AND KENNEDY。
When Stephen Kennedy heard that Eppy had gone back to her
grandparents； a faint hope revived in his bosom； he knew nothing of
the late passage between the two parties。 He but knew that she was
looking sad： she might perhaps allow him to be of some service to
her！ Separation had fostered more and more gentle thoughts of her in
his heart； he was ready to forgive her everything； and believe
nothing serious against her； if only she would let him love her
again。 Modesty had hitherto kept him from throwing himself in her
way； but he now haunted the house in the hope of catching a glimpse
of her； and when she began to go again into the town； saw her
repeatedly； following her to be near her； but taking care she should
not see him： partly from her self…absorption he had succeeded in
escaping her notice。
At length； however； one night； he tried to summon up courage to
accost her。 It was a lovely； moonlit night； half the street black
with quaint shadows； the other half shining like sand in the yellow
light。 On the moony side people standing at their doors could
recognize each other two houses away； but on the other； friends
might pass without greeting。 Eppy had gone into the baker's； Kennedy
had seen her go in； and stood in the shadow； waiting； all but
determined to speak to her。 She staid a good while； but one
accustomed to wait for fish learns patience。 At length she appeared。
By this time； however； though not his patience； Kennedy's courage
had nearly evaporated； and when he saw her he stepped under an
archway； let her pass； and followed afresh。 All at once resolve；
which yet was no resolve； awoke in him。 It was as if some one took
him and set him before her。 She started when he stepped in front；
and gave a little cry。
〃Dinna be feart； Eppy；〃 he said； 〃I wudna hurt a hair o' yer heid。 I
wud raither be skinned mysel'！〃
〃Gang awa；〃 said Eppy。 〃Ye hae no richt to stan' i' my gait！〃
〃Nane but the richt o' lo'ein' ye better nor ever！〃 said Kennedy；
〃gien sae be as ye'll lat me ony gait shaw 't！〃
The words softened her； she had dreaded reproach； if not indignant
remonstrance。 She began to cry。
〃Gien onything i' my pooer wud mak the grief lichter upo' ye； Eppy；〃
he said； 〃ye hae but to name 't！ I'm no gauin' to ask ye to merry
me； for that I ken ye dinna care aboot； but gien I micht be luikit
upon as a freen'； if no to you； yet to yoursalloot onyw'y to help
i' yer trible； I mean； I'm ready to lay me i' the dirt afore ye。 I
hae nae care for mysel' ony mair； an' maun do something for
somebodyan' wha sae soon as yersel'； Eppy！〃
For sole answer； Eppy went on crying。 She was far from happy。 She
had nearly persuaded herself that all was over between her and lord
Forgue； and almost she could； but for shame； have allowed Kennedy to
comfort her as an old friend。 Everything in her mind was so
confused； and everything around her so miserable； that she could but
cry。 She continued crying； and as they were in a walled lane into
which no windows looked； Kennedy； in the simplicity of his heart；
and the desire to comfort her who little from him deserved comfort；
came up to her； and putting his arm round her； said again；
〃Dinna be feart of me； Eppy。 I'm a man ower sair…hertit to do ye ony
hurt。 It's no as thinkin' ye my ain； Eppy； I wud preshume to du
onything for ye； but as an auld freen'； fain to tak the dog aff o'
ye。 Are ye in want o' onything？ Ye maun hae a heap o' trible； I weel
ken； wi' yer gran'father's mischance； an' it's easy to un'erstan'
'at things may well be turnin' scarce aboot ye； but be sure o' this；
that as lang's my mither has onything； she'll be blyth to share the
same wi' you an' yours。