There was something so sweet and consolatory in the way she said this, that although it moved all present to tears, they were tears without the wonted bitterness of grief. Accordingly, I knelt down and did as she had required, and there was a great stillness while I prayed. At the conclusion we looked to the bed, but the spirit had, in the mean time, departed, and there was nothing remaining but the clay tenement. It was expected by the parish, considering the vast affluence of the daughters, that there would have been a grand funeral, and Mrs. Howard thought it was necessary; but her sister, who had from her youth upward a superior discernment of propriety, said, “No, as my mother has lived, so shall be her end.” Accordingly, everybody of any respect in the clachan was invited to the funeral; but none of the gentry, saving only such as had been numbered among the acquaintance of the deceased. But Mr. Cayenne came unbidden, saying to me, that although he did not know Mrs. Malcolm personally, he had often heard she was an amiable woman, and therefore he thought it a proper compliment to her family, who were out of the parish, to show in what respect she was held among us; for he was a man that would take his own way, and do what he thought was right, heedless alike of blame or approbation. If, however, the funeral was plain, though respectable, the ladies distributed a liberal sum among the poor families; but before they went away, a silent token of their mother’s virtue came to light, which was at once a source of sorrow and pleasure. Mrs. Malcolm was first well provided by the Macadams, afterwards the Howards settled on her an equal annuity, by which she spent her latter days in great comfort. Many a year before, she had repaid Provost Maitland the money he sent her in the day of her utmost distress; and at this period he was long dead, having died of a broken heart at the time of his failure. From that time his widow and her daughters had been in very straitened circumstances; but unknown to all but herself, and HIM from whom nothing is hid, Mrs. Malcolm from time to time had sent them, in a blank letter, an occasional note to the young ladies to buy a gown. After her death, a bank-bill for a sum of money, her own savings, was found in her scrutoire, with a note of her own writing pinned to the same, stating, that the amount being more than she had needed for herself, belonged of right to those who had so generously provided for her; but as they were not in want of such a trifle, it would be a token of respect to her memory, if they would give the bill to Mrs. Maitland and her daughters, which was done with the most glad alacrity; and, in the doing of it, the private kindness was brought to light. [Picture: The Millwright]