He was interrupted by the youngest of his sisters, who came running out, and, speaking in a constrained voice, as if to stifle some emotion, called out to him, “What are ye doing there, Hobbie, fiddling about the naig, and there’s ane frae Cumberland been waiting here for ye this hour and mair? Haste ye in, man; I’ll take off the saddle.” “Ane frae Cumberland!” exclaimed Elliot; and putting the bridle of his horse into the hand of his sister, he rushed into the cottage. “Where is he? where is he!” he exclaimed, glancing eagerly around, and seeing only females; “Did he bring news of Grace?” “He doughtna bide an instant langer,” said the elder sister, still with a suppressed laugh. “Hout fie, bairns!” said the old lady, with something of a good-humoured reproof, “ye shouldna vex your billy Hobbie that way.--Look round, my bairn, and see if there isna ane here mair than ye left this morning.” Hobbie looked eagerly round. “There’s you, and the three titties.” “There’s four of us now, Hobbie, lad,” said the youngest, who at this moment entered. In an instant Hobbie had in his arms Grace Armstrong, who, with one of his sister’s plaids around her, had passed unnoticed at his first entrance. “How dared you do this?” said Hobbie. “It wasna my fault,” said Grace, endeavouring to cover her face with her hands to hide at once her blushes, and escape the storm of hearty kisses with which her bridegroom punished her simple stratagem,--“It wasna my fault, Hobbie; ye should kiss Jeanie and the rest o’ them, for they hae the wyte o’t.” “And so I will,” said Hobbie, and embraced and kissed his sisters and grandmother a hundred times, while the whole party half-laughed, half-cried, in the extremity of their joy. “I am the happiest man,” said Hobbie, throwing himself down on a seat, almost exhausted,--“I am the happiest man in the world!” “Then, O my dear bairn,” said the good old dame, who lost no opportunity of teaching her lesson of religion at those moments when the heart was best open to receive it,--“Then, O my son, give praise to Him that brings smiles out o’ tears and joy out o’ grief, as He brought light out o’ darkness and the world out o’ naething. Was it not my word, that if ye could say His will be done, ye might hae cause to say His name be praised?” “It was--it was your word, grannie; and I do praise Him for His mercy, and for leaving me a good parent when my ain were gane,” said honest Hobbie, taking her hand, “that puts me in mind to think of Him, baith in happiness and distress.” There was a solemn pause of one or two minutes employed in the exercise of mental devotion, which expressed, in purity and sincerity, the gratitude of the affectionate family to that Providence who had unexpectedly restored to their embraces the friend whom they had lost.