“Jenny says you want me, Mrs. Patterson,” said Marjory, sitting down on the chair which Jenny carefully dusted and placed in front of the fire. It was a small room, with but a little space between the bed and the fire, and with one window veiled by an immense geranium stretched upon a fan-like frame, which was the pride of its mistress’s heart, consumed half the air and light in the little place, and curiously enough condescended to grow with splendid luxuriance. Jenny’s mother was an invalid, but a good needlewoman, who got through a great deal of “white-seam” in her chair by the fire, and lived, she, her daughter, and her geranium on the earnings thus acquired, supplemented by help from her sons. Jenny stood by smiling and open-mouthed, twisting up the hair which invariably came down when she flew out into the street on any errand; and little Milly, familiar to the place, actually took the independent step of going to the window, and chirruping to the canary which hung above that geranium forest, and was the best singer in all Comlie, not even excepting the Minister’s bullfinch, a strange and foreign bird. “Dinna think I’m wanting anything from you, Miss Marjory. The worst o’ puir folk is that they’re aye wanting. Na, na, it was only for a sight o’ your face, which does a poor body good, and to read ye my Willie’s letter. Jenny, ye taupie, bring me Willie’s letter. I can maistly say it off by heart, but Miss Heriot will like to see it, and I might forget something. Eh, I’m a happy woman! The captain o’ the ‘William and Mary’s’ dead out yonder (pointing her thumb over her shoulder, which was the way or indicating distance in Comlie), and Willie’s to bring the boat home. It’s as good as a ship to him; for ance a captain aye a captain, and his owners are no the men to put him back in a mate’s place.” “I am very glad to hear of Willie’s promotion,” said Marjory; “was the captain a Comlie man?” “Eh, you’ll think me awfu’ hard-hearted,” said Mrs. Patterson, struck with compunction, and pausing with her large horn spectacles in her hand; “but you canna suppose I would have spoke as free and been as thankfu’ if he had been a Comlie man. Na, na, if another house in the town had been mourning I would have held my peace. I’ve had trouble enough myself to have mair feeling; but he’s no frae Comlie nor nearhand. He’s a Dundee man, and I ken naething about him. His name was Brown, like mony mair, and he’s no even married that I ever heard tell of, and it’s to be hoped he’s in a better place.” With this the new captain’s mother dismissed the old one, and put on her big spectacles. “It’s dated Riga, the fourteenth February, for that’s the port where they were bound. ‘My dear mother, I hope you and Jenny’s in good health as this leaves me. Many and many a time I think of you and the cosy little room, and the flower, and the canary-bird--’ Bless the laddie,” said Mrs. Patterson, stopping abruptly, “he had aye the kindest heart!”