"If that iss all the business, Moderator, I hef to bring a case of discipline before the Session, and ask them to do their duty. It iss known to me that a young woman who hass been a member of this church hass left her home and gone into the far country. There will be no use in summoning her to appear before the Session, for she will never be seen again in this parish. I move that she be cut off from the roll, and her name iss "--and Lachlan's voice broke, but in an instant he recovered himself--"her name iss Flora Campbell." Carmichael confessed to me that he was stricken dumb, and that Lachlan's ashen face held him with an awful fascination. It was Burnbrae that first found a voice, and showed that night the fine delicacy of heart that may be hidden behind a plain exterior. "Moderator, this is a terrible calamity that hes befaen oor brither, and a'm feelin' as if a' hed lost a bairn o' my ane, for a sweeter lassie didna cross oor kirk door. Nane o' us want tae know what hes happened or where she hes gane, and no a word o' this wull cross oor lips. Her faither's dune mair than cud be expeckit o' mortal man, and noo we have oor duty. It's no the way o' this Session tae cut aff ony member o' the flock at a stroke, and we 'ill no begin with Flora Campbell. A' move, Moderator, that her case be left tae her faither and yersel, and oor neebur may depend on it that Flora's name and his ain will be mentioned in oor prayers, ilka mornin' an' nicht till the gude Shepherd o' the sheep brings her hame." Burnbrae paused, and then, with tears in his voice--men do not weep in Drumtochty--"With the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plenteous redemption." The minister took the old man's arm and led him into the manse, and set him in the big chair by the study fire. "Thank God, Lachlan, we are friends now; tell me about it as if I were your son and Flora's brother." The father took a letter out of an inner pocket with a trembling hand, and this is what Carmichael read by the light of the lamp:--