“Finally, most merciful Father, we thank Thee for Thy patience with us and the goodness Thou hast bestowed upon us, and for as much as Thy servants have sinned against Thee beyond our knowledge, we beseech Thee to judge us not according to our deserts, but according to the merits and intercession of Jesus Christ our Lord.” He also pronounced the benediction--which was not his wont at family worship--and he shook hands with his two retainers; but he went with his guest to the outer door. “Good-bye, Drumsheugh... you have been... a faithful friend and elder.” When John paid his usual visit to the study before he went to bed, the Doctor did not hear him enter the room. He was holding converse with Skye, who was seated on a chair, looking very wise and much interested. “Ye're a bonnie beastie, Skye”--like all Scots, the Doctor in his tender moments dropped into dialect--“for a'thing He made is verra gude. Ye've been true and kind to your master, Skye, and ye 'ill miss him if he leaves ye. Some day ye 'ill die also, and they 'ill bury ye, and I doubt that 'ill be the end o' ye, Skye. “Ye never heard o' God, Skye, or the Saviour, for ye're juist a puir doggie; but your master is minister of Drumtochty, and... a sinner saved... by grace.” The Doctor was so much affected as he said the last words slowly to himself that John went out on tiptoe, and twice during the night listened--fancying he heard Skye whine. In the morning the Doctor was still sitting in his big chair, and Skye was fondly licking a hand that would never again caress him, while a miniature of Daisy--the little maid who had died in her teens, and whom her brother had loved to his old age--lay on the table, and the Bible was again open at the description of the New Jerusalem. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Afterwards, by Ian Maclaren