In the early spring, Annot returned to Scotland in company with the Norrises; she was sorely missed at Woodcliff, but warmly welcomed by Uncle Malcolm and Mrs. Lindsay, who could not but realize that she was greatly improved by her sojourn with Madeline. It was a sore trial to the good man to resign his beloved niece to any one, especially to one living in a foreign land; but, true to his noble character, seeking the happiness of those he loved, he said-- "Take her Edmund, she is yours; but ye maun leave her with us a year ere ye claim her hand, and visit us as often as ye can." "I know the sacrifice, dear Mr. Graham, but you need not fear to trust your darling to me; we are all in all to each other, and, I trust, humbly desire to live for a better world." "I canna separate young hearts, Edmund; I know the pang, and can ne'er inflict it on another." A pleasant visit of a few months, daily increased Uncle Malcolm's respect for Edmund Norris, and he felt before he left Graham Hall, that in him he had found another dear son. "I do not think that I shall always lead a city life, dear sir; our tastes are for the country, and as soon as it can be possible, that shall be our permanent home." "Would that it could be in Scotland, Edmund; I should be so happy to have ye with me." "That is a subject for future thought, dear sir; my mother's wishes must be consulted." The young pair bade farewell with the sweet hope of meeting again; but O, how long! for one whole year! and what might not happen? How many hearts have asked the same sad question? CHAPTER XXXI. REUNION. The church is finished--old Mr. Bruce is delighted, for he fancies that he has had much to do with its completion. Stanley is settled as the pastor, and ministers with great acceptance. The day has arrived for its opening, the ringing of the bell summons the worshippers from all quarters; and Madeline, with her bright and happy face, has taken charge of the choir, and sweet is the music which from grateful hearts rolls through the solemn edifice. At the close of the first Sabbath evening, the family of Woodcliff are gathered in the drawing-room. "How many do you number among your communicants, Stanley?" asked Roland. "About eighty," was the reply. "You may record me as another, Stanley, for as the head of a family, there must be no division in that important matter; and I can be very happy in worshipping with you, my dear friend, in your own solemn and holy forms of worship." "Thank you, dear Roland," said the wife, "this is so pleasant to have you with me as a fellow-communicant; we have been for a long time fellow-pilgrims, but this outward union is peculiarly gratifying." "You must make some allowances, dear, for my still liking a good old-fashioned doctrinal sermon, even if it is pretty long; and therefore, father and I must go once a day to the church of our ancestors, for that is all that I have to remind me of good old Scotland."