"She's mickle as ye laft her, Miss Flora, only weaker; I'm thinkin' she'll no be lang the now. But come ben, my bonnie lassie; you're as welcome as flowers in May. And how's a' wi' ye?" Flora answered as we were following Elsie down the chamber and round a screen which boxed off the end of it. Behind the screen was a bed, and on it lay, as I thought, the oldest woman on whom I ever set my eyes. Her face was all wrinkled up, yet there was a fresh colour in her cheeks, and her eyes, though much sunk, seemed piercingly bright. "Ye're come at last," she said, in a low clear voice, as Flora sat down on the bed, and took the wrinkled brown hand in hers. "Yes, dear Mirren, come at last," said she. "I'm very glad to get home." "Ay, and that's what I'll be the morn." "So soon, Mirren?" "Ay, just sae soon. I askit Him to let me bide while ye came hame. I ay thocht I wad fain see ye ance mair--my Miss Flora's lad's lassie. He's gi'en me a' that ever I askit Him--but ane thing, an' that was the vara desire o' my heart." "You mean," said Flora, gently, "you wanted Ronald to come home?" "Ay, I wanted him to come hame frae the far country!" said old Mirren with a sigh. "I'd ha'e likit weel to see him come hame to Abbotscliff-- vara weel. But I longed mickle mair to see him come hame to the Father's house. It's no for his auld minnie to see that. But if it's for the Lord to see some ither day, I'm content. And He has gi'en me sae monie things that I ne'er askit Him wi' ane half the longing that I did for that, I dinna think He'll say me nay the now." "Is He with you, Mirren dear?" I could not imagine how Flora thought Mirren was to know that. But she answered, with a light in those bright eyes,-- "Ay, my doo. `His left haun is under my heid, and His richt haun doth embrace me.'"