"Tak’ in yer chair, Maister Hall,"--Jock could hardly believe his ears!--"and mak’ what supper ye can," said Mrs. Hugh. "We’re plain kintra folk hereawa’,"--an apology to Jock for their having nothing extra at supper to mark their respect for a friend of the Sergeant’s! What were his thoughts? The character of an impostor seemed forced upon him when he most desired to be an honest man. Then the old man reverently took off his "Kilmarnock cool", a coloured worsted night-cap, and said grace, thanking God for all His mercies, "of the least of which," he added, "we are unworthy". After supper Mrs. Hugh gave a long account of the labours of the day, and of the big washing, and told how she had met Lady Mary, and Lady Caroline, and Lord Bennock, and how they had been talking to the children, and "speering for faither and grandfaither". A happy family was that assembled under the keeper’s roof. The youngest child, a boy, was ever welcome on old John’s knee, who never seemed able to exhaust the pleasure he derived from his grandson’s prattle. His large watch, which approached in size to a house clock, with its large pewter seal, was an endless source of amusement to the child; so also was the splendid rabbit shadowed on the wall, with moving ears and moving mouth, created by John’s hands; and his imitation of dogs, cats, and all other domestic animals, in which he was an adept;--nay, his very crutches were turned to account to please the boy, and much more to please himself. The elder daughters clung round their mother in a group, frankly talking to her in mutual confidence and love. The boys enjoyed the same liberty with their father, and indulged unchecked in expressions of affection. All was freedom without rudeness, play without riot, because genuine heartfelt affection united all. Jock did not join in the conversation, except when he was asked questions by Mrs. Hugh about Drumsylie, its shops and its people. On the whole he was shy and reserved. Anyone who could have watched his eye and seen his heart would have discovered both busy in contemplating a picture of ordinary family life such as the poor outcast had never before beheld. But Jock still felt as if he was not in his right place--as if he would have been cast out into the darkness had his real character been known. His impressions of a kind of life he never dreamt of were still more deepened when, before going to bed, the large Bible was placed on the table, and Hugh, amidst the silence of the family, said, "We’ll hae worship." The chapter for the evening happened to be the fifteenth of St. Luke. It was as if written expressly for Jock. Are such adaptations to human wants to be traced to mere chance? Surely He who can feed the wild beasts of the desert, or the sparrow amidst the waste of wintry snows, can give food to the hungry soul of a Prodigal Son, as yet ignorant of the food he needs and of the Father who alone can supply it.