"'Dinna set yer heart ower muckle on that bairn,' he cried oot, sharp like. 'I was aince like her, an' I used to hing aboot my mother, too, in that very roady. Ay, I thocht I was fond o' her, an' she thocht it too. Tak' a care, wuman, 'at that bairn doesna grow up to murder ye.' "He gae a lauch when he saw me tak haud o' the bairn, an' syne a' at aince he gaed awa quick. But he wasna far doon the brae when he turned an' came back. "'Ye'll, mebbe, tell me," he said, richt low, 'if ye hae the furniture 'at used to be my mother's?' "'Na,' I said, 'it was roupit, an' I kenna whaur the things gaed, for me an' my man comes frae Tilliedrum.' "'Ye wouldna hae heard,' he said, 'wha got the muckle airm-chair 'at used to sit i' the kitchen i' the window 'at looks ower the brae?' "'I couldna be sure,' I said, 'but there was an airm-chair at gaed to Tibbie Birse. If it was the ane ye mean, it a' gaed to bits, an' I think they burned it. It was gey dune.' "'Ay,' he said, 'it was gey dune.' "'There was the chairs ben i' the room,' he said, after a while. "I said I thocht Sanders Elshioner had got them at a bargain because twa o' them was mended wi' glue, an' gey silly. "'Ay, that's them,' he said, 'they were richt neat mended. It was my mother 'at glued them. I mind o' her makkin' the glue, an' warnin' me an' my father no to sit on them. There was the clock too, an' the stool 'at my mother got oot an' into her bed wi', an' the basket 'at Leeby carried when she gaed the errands. The straw was aff the handle, an' my father mended it wi' strings.' "'I dinna ken,' I said, 'whaur nane o' thae gaed; but did yer mother hae a staff?' "'A little staff,' he said; 'it was near black wi' age. She couldna gang frae the bed to her chair withoot it. It was broadened oot at the foot wi' her leanin' on't sae muckle.' "'I've heard tell,' I said, ''at the dominie up i' Glen Quharity took awa the staff.' "He didna speir for nae other thing. He had the gate in his hand, but I dinna think he kent 'at he was swingin't back an' forrit. At last he let it go. "'That's a',' he said, 'I maun awa. Good-nicht, an' thank ye kindly.' "I watched 'im till he gaed oot o' sicht. He gaed doon the brae." We learnt afterwards from the gravedigger that some one spent great part of that night in the graveyard, and we believe it to have been Jamie. He walked up the glen to the school-house next forenoon, and I went out to meet him when I saw him coming down the path. "Ay," he said, "it's me come back." I wanted to take him into the house and speak with him of his mother, but he would not cross the threshold. "I came oot," he said, "to see if ye would gie me her staff--no 'at I deserve 't."