'Mother,' said the girl, 'you will dishearten me if you go on in this way.' Then smiling through the tears of affection that glistened on her eye, and assuming a tone of affected cheerfulness, 'Come now, dear mother, do drop this desponding tone. There's better days in store for us yet. We'll get above all this by-and-by. In the meantime it is our duty, as Christians, to submit to the destiny that has been decreed us with patience and resignation. Come, mother, I'll sing you the song you used always to like so well to hear me sing.' And, without waiting for any remark in reply, or pausing in her employment, the girl immediately began, in a voice whose richness of tone and deep pathos possessed the most thrilling power:-- 'A cheerfu' heart's been always mine, Whatever might betide me, O! In foul or fair, in shade or shine, I've aye had that to guide me, O! When luck cam chappin' at my door, Wi' right goodwill I cheered him, O! And whan misfortune cam, I swore The ne'er a bit I feared him, O!' 'O lassie, lassie!' exclaimed Jessy's mother, here interrupting her, and now smiling as she spoke--'how can ye think o' singing at such a time? But God lang vouchsafe ye sae light and cheerfu' a heart! It's a great blessing, Jessy, and canna be prized too highly.' 'I'm aware of it, mother,' replied her daughter, 'and am, I trust, thankful for it. I dinna see, after a', that anything should seriously distress us--but guilt. If we keep free o' _that_, what hae we to fear? A' ither mischances will mend, or if they dinna, they'll at least smooth doon wi' time.' 'But why are ye no puttin' up your silk goun, Jessy?' here interposed her mother, abruptly; seeing her daughter laying aside the article of dress she referred to, as if she did not intend it should have a place in the little chest she was packing. 'The silk gown, mother, I'll no tak wi' me,' replied Jessy, smiling; 'I'll leave't at hame till better times come roun'. It would hardly become my station now, mother, to be gaun flaunting about in silks.' 'Too true, Jessy,' said her mother with a sigh. 'It may be as weel, as ye say, to leave't at hame for a wee, till times mend wi' us at ony rate, although God only knows when that may be, if ever.' 'I'll keep it for my wedding gown, mother,' said Jessy, laughingly, and with an intention of counteracting the depressing tendency of her inadvertent remarks on the propriety of her leaving her silk gown behind. 'I'll keep it for my wedding dress, mother,' she said, 'although it's mair than likely that a plainer attire will be mair suitable for that occasion too.' 'Nae sayin', Jessy,' replied her mother. 'Ye'll maybe get a canny laird yet, that can ride to market wi' siller spurs on his boots and gowd lace on his hat.' 'Far less will please me, mither,' replied Jessy, blushing and laughing at the same time. 'I never, even in our best days, looked so high, and it would ill become me to do so now.'