The sun is full in the room when Menie wakes, and Mrs Laurie has but a moment since closed the door softly behind her, that the sleeper might not be disturbed. Even this tender precaution, when she finds it out, chills Menie to the heart; for heretofore her mother’s voice has roused her, and even her mother’s impatience of her lingering would be joy to her to-day; but Mrs Laurie is not impatient. Mrs Laurie thinks it better, for all the sun’s unceasing proclamation that night and sleep are past, to let the young heart refresh itself a little longer, to leave the young form at rest. Ay, Menie Laurie, kneel down by your bedside--kneel down and pray; it is not often that your supplications testify themselves in outward attitude. Now there is a murmur of an audible voice speaking words to which no mortal ear has any right to listen; and your downcast face is buried in your hands, and your tears plead with your prayers. For you never thought but to be happy, Menie, and the gentle youthful nature longs and yearns for happiness, and with the strength of a rebel fights against the pain foreseen--poor heart! “Eh, Jenny! you’re no keeping ill-will?” said a doleful voice upon the lawn below: very distinct, through the open window, it quickened Menie’s morning toilette considerably, and drew her forward, with a wondering face, to make sure. “I’m sure it’s no in me to be unfriends wi’ onybody; and after ane coming a’ this gate for naething but to ask a civil question, how you a’ was. I’m saying, Jenny? you’re no needing to haud ony correspondence wi’ me except ye like; it’s the mistress and Miss Menie I’m wanting to see.” “Am I to let in a’ the gaun-about vagabones that want to see the mistress and Miss Menie?” said Jenny’s gruff voice in reply. “I trow no; and how ye can have the face to look at Jenny after your last errand till her, I canna tell; ye’ll be for undertaking my service ance mair? but ye may just as weel take my word ance for a’--the mistress canna bide ye ony mair than me.” “Eh, woman, Jenny, ye’re a thrawn creature!” said Nelly Panton. “I’m sure I never did ye an ill turn a’ my days. But ye needna even the like o’ your service to me; I’m gaun to live wi’ our Johnnie, and keep his house, and Johnnie’s company are grander folk than the mistress; but I’m no forgetting auld friends, so I came to ask for Miss Menie because I aye likit her, and because she’s a young lass like mysel; and I’ll gang and speak to that ither servant-woman if ye’ll no tell Miss Menie I’m here.”