his wife wasna vexed to pairt wi' him when the time cam' for him to leave, an' he said he didna ken, for he didna see her. "Ye didna see her!" said I. "Hoo was that?" "Oh," said he, "she was busy at her wark up the stairs, so I cried to her that I was away, an' she cried back, 'Right you are, Joe; so long till next July,' and that was a'." Imphm! isn't that a queer state o' maitters, Maister Weelum? Mind you, I dinna a'thegither blame her. I ken the Hebrons. They're a queer, quate family. Ye never can tell what they're thinkin'. I've the best o' them--ay, the best--an' I often shut my een an' thank God for Nathan; but if he had marrit ony ither woman--I mean a woman wha didna ken him as I do, or mak' allowances as I can, an' though she had been an angel frae heaven--she wad ha'e been as meeserable as I am happy. Ay, it was lang, lang before I understood Nathan, an' the kennin' o' him was a dreich job, but it was worth it a'. Ye see, the Hebrons havena got the faculty o' expressin' their feelin's. They may be pleased or angry--it's a' yin--they never let on in their speech, but they show it in their actions; at least my Nathan does, an' my impression is that Joe's wife--Sally her name is--doesna ken Joe yet. He'll no' ha'e met her half-road, as it were, an' gi'en her a chance o' gettin' to the bedrock, an' she tak's his quateness for indifference; an' the upshot is, as ye see, that for the best pairt o' a year she's as happy in Brighton as he is in Thornhill, an' for the rest they put up wi' yin anither for the sake o' the siller their united efforts bring in. Ay, it's a queer world for some folk. But I'm deavin' ye. Joe'll be oot o' a job, too, an' to keep him richt I maun keep him workin' the day;' and she bustled off to encourage Joe in well-doing. Later I consulted with Betty about Murray Monteith's visit, and we arranged to get the south bedroom prepared for his reception. So I wrote him to-day at some length, extending Betty's invitation, and expressing my willingness to accompany him to Nithbank House. After I had finished my letter I perambulated the dining-room round and round, for the day was wet and boisterous, and I could not go out of doors. Bang and Jip, evidently conscious of the fact that a walk was out of the question, were making themselves at home on the hearthrug, and I was just finishing half a mile of carpet-walking when the street door opened, and Nathan's step sounded in the lobby. Betty had gone out on an errand, so I went in to the kitchen. 'Hallo, Nathan!' I said; 'have you got a holiday to-day?' Nathan looked up at me as he sat down in his arm-chair near the fire. 'I've ta'en yin, Maister Weelum,' he said. 'I've ta'en yin--very much against the grain, though. I'm--I'm no' feelin' very weel, so I thocht I wad juist come hame.' 'You did well to come home, Nathan, and I'm sorry to know you are not up to the mark. You're cold-looking. Do you feel cold?'