“It 's no siller or plenishing a'm thinkin' aboot; it's the hoose ye brocht me tae that day, an' the room ma bairns were born in, an' the gairden she played in, an' whar a' think o' her in the gloamin'. “It 's mair than a' can bear tae pairt wi' ma hame, an' the kirkyaird, an' gang into a strange place where a' ken naebody and naebody kens us. It 'ill brak ma hert. “Are ye fixed aboot this maitter, John?... there's no muckle difference aifter a'.... Dr. Davidson's a fine man, an' a've herd ye praise him yersel... if ye promised tae gang at a time, maybe....” And Jean touched Burnbrae timidly with her hand. “A' want tae dee here and be beeried wi' Jeannie.” “Dinna try me like this,” Burnbrae cried, with agony in his voice, “for the cross is heavy eneuch already withoot the wecht o' yir plead-in'. “Ye dinna see the nicht what ye are askin', for yir een are blind wi' tears. If a' gied in tae ye and did what ye ask, ye wud be the sorriest o' the twa, for nane hes a truer hert than ma ain' wife. “If it wes onything else ye askit, ye wud hae it, Jean, though it cost me a' my gear, but a' daurna deny my Lord, no even for yir dear sake.... He died for us... an' this is a' He asks.... “A' maun sae no tae the factor the mornin', an' if ye 're against me it 'ill be hard on flesh and blood.... Say yir wullin', an' a' fear nae evil, Jean.” “A'm tryin' hard, John,” and they spoke together with a low voice, while the kindly darkness fell as a sacred cover round about them; and when they came into the light of the kitchen, where the family was waiting, there was victory on the face of Burnbrae and Jean his wife. “Well, Baxter,” said the factor in his room next day, “your offer is all right in money, and we 'ill soon settle the building. By the way, I suppose you 've thought over that kirk affair, and will give your word to attend the Established Church, eh?” “Ye may be sure that a've gien a' ye said ma best judgment, an' there's naething I wudna dae to be left in Burnbrae, but this thing ye ask a' canna grant.” “Why not?” and the factor, lounging in his chair, eyed Burnbrae contemptuously as he stood erect before him. “My groom tells me that there is not a grain of difference between all those kirks in Scotland, and that the whole affair is just down-right bad temper, and I believe he 's right.” “A' wudna say onything disrespectfu', sir, but it's juist possible that naither you nor your groom ken the history o' the Free Church; but ye may be sure sensible men and puir fouk dinna mak sic sacrifices for bad temper.” “Come along, then,” and the factor allowed himself to be merry, “let's hear a sermon. You Scotchmen are desperate fellows for that kind of thing. Does the Free Kirk sing Psalms one way and the Established Kirk another? It's some stark nonsense, I know.” “It may be to you, but it is not to us; and at ony rate, it is the truth accordin' tae ma licht, an' ilka man maun gae by that as he sall answer at the Judgment.”