“Ane can never answer for the dead,” said the poor old Dragon. “Ane kens when a living person speaks, for ye can aye pit out your hand and touch them, and see that they’re by your side; but I pit out my hand here, Missie--it’s a’ clear air to me--but for aught I ken, an angel in white raiment may be standing on my stair-head, and anither within my door, laying a mark in the Book yonder that I may open it the night at ae special verse, and read that and nae ither. How is the like o’ me to ken? And you’ll no tell me that Mr. Hairy winna stand by the bride the morn, and be the first voice to wish her joy, though we may ne’er hear what he says.” With a slight tremble, Violet, putting away her flowers, leaned upon the step, and looked again into the darkening shadow of the trees; and Lettie tried to think, and to pray in her simplicity that her eyes might be opened to discern the spirits, and that she might see Harry, if he were here. But again the mortal shrank from the visible immortality, and Lettie covered her eyes with a thrill of visionary fear. “Dragon, look at Lettie’s flowers,” said Katie Calder; “she wants to put them on the table, where the minister’s to stand, instead of all the grand ones out of Lady Dunlop’s; and I never saw such grand flowers as Lady Dunlop’s, Dragon.” “The dew never falls on _them_,” said Lettie, starting to return to her occupation; “and if you were in the room in the dark, you would never know they were there; but I gathered this by the Lady’s Well, and this was growing at the foot of the stone where Lady Violet sat, and the brier and the hawthorn out of that grand hedge, Dragon, where a’ the flowers are; and if I put them on the table in the dark, the wee fairy that Dragon kens, will tell the whole house they’re there; but Lady Dunlop’s have no breath--and mine are far liker Rose.” As Lettie speaks, some one puts a hand over her shoulder, and lifting her flowers, raises them up very close to a glowing radiant face; and Dragon, hastily getting up from the easy-chair on his stair-head, jerks his dangling right arm upward towards the brim of the low rusty old hat, which he wears always. It is only persons of great distinction whom Dragon so far honours, and Dragon has forgotten “yon birkie,” in his excited glee about the approaching wedding, and his respect for the “groom.” “Very right, Lettie,” said the bridegroom, with a little laugh which has a tremble in it; “they are far liker Rose. And will you be able to come to the gate to-morrow, Dragon, and see me carry the flower of Allenders away?”