We returned, and found Mary preparing the evening meal. We gathered round the table, and though each of us tried to talk the meal was almost a silent one. The "wag-at-the-wa’" ticked off the relentless minutes; the sun sank to his rest; the night came, and still there was no sign of Andrew. The slow-footed moments dogged each other by and still he did not come. When the hands of the clock marked the hour of ten, I rose and went to the door. The night was still; the stars looked down on the thatched roof of Daldowie, heedless of the dread that brooded over it. I strained my ears to catch any sound of approaching footsteps, but all was silent as the grave. I rejoined Jean and Mary beside the fire. They were gazing anxiously into its embers. Mary lifted her eyes with a question flashing from them. I shook my head, and she turned her gaze once more on the glowing hearth. "Whatever can be keepin’ the man?" said Jean, looking up suddenly. "It’s nearly ten oors sin’ he left us. Mary," she said, turning to her daughter and speaking firmly, "ye’d better awa’ to your bed. Your faither’ll be vexed if he sees ye sittin’ up for him; but afore ye gang, bring me the Book." Adjusting her horn-rimmed spectacles she said, "We’ll juist ha’e the readin’," and opening the Book she read the 46th Psalm. When she had finished she took her spectacles off and wiped them with her apron. "I feel better noo," she said. "I ha’e been a silly, faithless woman. Whatever would Andra think o’ me, his wife, if he kent the way I ha’e been cairryin’ op this day. He’ll be back a’ richt afore lang. Gang your ways tae bed, Mary." Mary took the Book from her mother and bore it to its accustomed place on the dresser. Then she came back and standing behind her mother placed a hand upon each cheek and tilting the careworn face upward, kissed her upon the forehead. With a demure "Good night" to me, she was about to go, but I sprang up and, clasping her to me, kissed her. Her cheeks were pale and cold, but the ardour of my lips brought a glow to them ere I let her escape. Her mother and I sat by the fire so wrapt in thought that we did not observe how it was beginning to fail; but at last I noticed it and picking up fresh peats laid them upon the embers.