As the time of appointment drew near, Elspa Ruet was enabled to call in her wandering and anxious thoughts, and, strengthened by her duty, the blessing of the tranquil mind was shed upon her. Her tears were dried up, and her countenance shone with a serene benignity. When she was an aged, withered woman, my grandfather has been heard to say that he never remembered her appearance without marvelling at the special effusion of holiness and beauty which beamed and brightened upon her in that trying hour, nor without thinking that he still beheld the glory of its twilight glowing through the dark and faded clouds of her old age. They had not sat long when a tapping was heard at the widow's door, and my grandfather, starting up, retired into a distant corner of the room, behind a big napery press, and sat down in the obscurity of its shadow. Elspa remained in her seat beside the table, on which a candle was burning, and, as it stood behind the door, she could not be seen by any coming in till they had passed into the middle of the floor. In little more than the course of a minute, the voice of her sister was heard, and light footsteps on the timber stair. The door was then opened, and Marion swirled in with an uncomely bravery. Elspa started from her seat. The guilty and convicted creature uttered a shriek; but in the same moment her pious sister clasped her with loving-kindness in her arms, and bursting into tears, wept bitterly, with sore sobs, for some time on her bosom, which was wantonly unkerchiefed. After a short space of time, with confusion of face, and frowns of mortification, and glances of rage, the abandoned Marion disengaged herself from her sister's fond and sorrowful embraces, and, retreating to a chair, sat down, and seemed to muster all the evil passions of the guilty breast,--fierce anger, sharp hatred, and gnawing contempt; and a bad boldness of look that betokened a worse spirit than them all. "It was na to see the like of you I cam' here," said she, with a scornful toss of her head. "I ken that, Marion," replied Elspa, mournfully. "And what business then hae ye to come to snool me?" Elspa for a little while made no answer to this, but, drying her eyes, she went to her seat composedly, and then said,-- "'Cause ye're my sister, and brought shame and disgrace on a' your family. O, Marion, I'm wae to say this! but ye're owre brave in your sin." "Do ye think I'll e'er gae back to that havering, daunering cuif o' a creature, the Crail bailie?" "He's a man o' mair worth and conduct, Marion," replied her sister, firmly, "than to put that in your power--even, woman, if ye were penitent, and besought him for charity." "Weel, weel, no to clishmaclaver about him. How's a' wi' the bairns?" "Are ye no frighted, Marion, to speer sic a question, when ye think how ye left them, and what for ye did sae?" "Am na I their mither, have na I a right to speer?"