"Ay! And the sermon took a grip o' ye?--Nae doot, nae doot. Ay. Ay." "I canna help forgettin' _him_, Thomas." "But ye maun try and no forget him, lassie." "Sae I do. But it's dour wark, and 'maist impossible." "Sae it maun aye be; to the auld Aidam impossible; to the young Christian a weary watch." Hope began to dawn upon Annie. "A body micht hae a chance," she asked with meditative suggestion, "allooin' 'at she did forget him whiles?" "Nae doot, lassie. The nations that forget God are them that dinna care, that never fash their heids, or their herts aither, aboot him--them that were never called, never chosen." Annie's trouble returned like a sea-wave that had only retired to gather strength. "But hoo's a body to ken whether she _be_ ane o' the elec'?" she said, quaking. "That's a hard maitter. It's no needfu' to ken't aforehan'. Jist lat that alane i' the mean time." "But I canna lat it alane. It's no for mysel' aither a'thegither. Could _ye_ lat it alane, Thomas?" This home-thrust prevented any questioning about the second clause of her answer. And Thomas dearly loved plain dealing. "Ye hae me there, lassie. Na, I cudna lat it alane. An' I never did lat it alane. I plaguit the Lord nicht an' day till he loot me ken." "I tried hard last nicht," said Annie, "but the rottans war ower mony for me." "Sawtan has mony wiles," said the mason reflectively. "Do ye think they warna rottans?' asked Annie. "Ow! nae doot. I daursay." "'Cause, gin I thocht they war only deils, I wadna care a buckie (periwinkle) for them." "It's muckle the same what ye ca' them, gin they ca you frae the throne o' grace, lassie." "What am I to do than, Thomas?" "Ye maun haud at it, lassie, jist as the poor widow did wi' the unjust judge. An' gin the Lord hears ye, ye'll ken ye're ane o' the elec', for it's only his own elec' that the Lord dis hear. Eh! lassie, little ye ken aboot prayin' an' no faintin'." Alas for the parable if Thomas's theories were to be carried out in its exposition! For they would lead to the conclusion that the Lord and the unjust judge were one and the same person. But it is our divine aspirations and not our intellectual theories that need to be carried out. The latter may, nay must in some measure, perish; the former will be found in perfect harmony with the divine Will; yea, true though faint echoes of that Will--echoes from the unknown caves of our deepest humanity, where lies, yet swathed in darkness, the divine image. To Thomas's words Annie's only reply was a fixed gaze, which he answered thus, resuming his last words: