“But ye cudna ca' Burnbrae a shairp business man,” said Jamie Soutar critically; “he keepit Jess Stewart daein' naethin' for five year, and gared her believe she wes that usefu' he cudna want her, because Jess wud suner hae deed than gaen on the pairish. “As for puir fouk, he wes clean redeeklus; there wesna a weedow in the Glen didna get her seed frae him in a bad year. He hed abeelity in gaitherin', but he wes wastefu' in spendin'. “Hooever, he 's gone noo, an' we maunna be sayin' ill o' the dead; it's no what he wud hae dune himsel. Whatna day's the beerial?” inquired Jamie, anxiously. “Beerial? Losh preserve's, Jamie,” began Hillocks, but Drumsheugh understood. “Jamie hes the richt o't; if Burnbrae hed slippit awa, yir faces cudna be langer. He's no oot o' the Glen yet, and wha kens gin he mayna beat the factor yet? “It's no muckle we can dae in that quarter but there's ae thing in oor poor. We can see that Burnbrae hes a gude roup, an' gin he maun leave us that he cairries eneuch tae keep him an' the gude wife for the rest o' their days. “There's a wheen fine fat cattle and some gude young horse; it wud be a sin tae let them gae below their price tae the Muirtown dealers. Na, na, the man that wants tae buy at Burn-brae's roup 'ill need tae pay.” The countenance of the kirkyard lifted, and as Hillocks followed Drumsheugh into kirk, he stopped twice and wagged his head with marked satisfaction. Three days later it was understood at the “smiddy” that Burnbrae's roup was likely to be a success. Thursday was the chosen day for roups in our parts, and on Monday morning they began to make ready at Burnbrae. Carts, engrained with the mud of years, were taken down to the burn, and came back blue and red. Burnbrae read the name of his grandfather on one of the shafts, and noticed it was Burnebrae in those days. Ploughs, harrows, rollers were grouped round a turnip sowing machine (much lent to neighbours), and supported by an array of forks, graips, scythes, and other lighter implements. The granary yielded a pair of fanners, half a dozen riddles, measures for corn, a pile of sacks, and some ancient flails. Harness was polished till the brass ornaments on the peaked collars and heavy cart saddles emerged from obscurity, and shone in the sunshine. Jean emptied her dairy, and ranged two churns, one her mother s, a cheese-press, and twenty-four deep earthenware dishes at the head of a field where the roup was to take place. “Dinna bring oot yir dairy, Jean wumman,” Burnbrae had pleaded in great distress; “we 'ill get some bit placey wi' a field or twa, and ye 'ill hae a coo as lang as ye live. A' canna bear tae see ma wife's kirn sold; ye mind hoo a' tried tae help ye the first year, an' ye splashed me wi' the milk. Keep the auld kirn, lass.”