"The joy is there, the victory is won, and the blessing is for a' generations," she said. "I'll never be missed in the crowd, and I can sing 'Glory be to God' in my ain house. So I'll stay where I'm needed, by my dear auld man; it was for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in joy, or in sorrow, while baith our lives lasted," she mused, "and Janet Semple isna one to forget that bargain." She went quickly back to her room, spoke only into the ear of God her joy and her thanksgiving, and then taking off her festival garments, knocked at Neil's door as she went down stairs. "Are you going out, Neil?" "No; I shall stay with father. I am just going to him." They went together, and as they entered the room, the Elder looked up: "Aren't you going to see the show, Neil?" he asked. "I prefer to stay with you, sir," was the answer. The old man looked from his son to his wife gratefully, and murmuring, "Thank you baith," he fainted away. Tenderly they lifted him to a couch, and he soon responded to the remedies applied; but Janet gave him a soothing draught, and they sat the afternoon through, watching him. They could hear the joyful acclaims--the shouts and songs of a redeemed people--the noise of a multitude giving itself to a tumultuous joy; but the real gladness of grateful hearts was by the rekindled hearth fires. Fathers and mothers at home again! After seven years' wandering, they knew what Home meant. Their houses were dismantled, but they had Liberty! Their gardens were destroyed, their shade trees burnt, but they had Liberty! Their churches were desecrated, but they had Liberty! Their trade was gone, their fair city mutilated and blackened with fire, her streets torn up, and her wharfs decayed, but thank God, they had Liberty! Never again would they be the subjects of any king, or the victims of any imposed tyranny. They were free men. They had won their freedom, and they who have once tasted of the sharp, strong wine of Freedom will drink thereof forever. * * * * *