Sweet was the incense of gratitude and praise that ascended from the family altar that night, as Uncle Malcolm led the devotions, and Madeline conducted the singing of the hymn. The next morning, after breakfast, Uncle Malcolm called Roland aside, and said, "Tak' me to the spot most sacred in America;" and, alone, they proceeded, with solemn step, to the cemetery. Standing at the foot of his mother's grave, the strong man stood for some minutes in silence, reading the inscription on the humble tomb-stone; then Uncle Malcolm, overpowered by the floods of sad and touching memories, lifted up his voice, and wept aloud. Roland stood with his arm around the old man, and whispered, "We must not mourn for her, dear uncle, a blessed spirit around the throne." "I dinna, Roland; but I could na but feel how happy I should hae made her; how I wad hae sheltered her frae the rough world; for while I was enjoying a' that wealth could gie, my puir Mary was suffering years o' penury an' toil." "It is past, dear uncle; through all her trials she enjoyed the peace of God, which passeth all understanding; and there is the blessed hope of reunion; do you not think that we shall know each other in the better land?" "I do, my son, confidently hope to meet that blessed spirit, purified an' full o' holy love, where there shall be nae mair parting; while I live, Roland, I shall luve her memory," (and he took out of his pocket-book once more the lock of golden hair,) "that must be buried wi' me, Roland." None asked where Uncle Malcolm had been, for the serious and tender expression that dwelt upon his face, and softened the tones of his voice throughout the day, spoke volumes. Interested in all the benevolent schemes around Woodcliff, Malcolm rode out with Roland; and, with a full heart, listened to the account of all their plans for good. On Sunday he attended the church at Glendale; and as he listened to the Christian statesman, seated so humbly before his large class of young men, he could not but bless God for the grace which had so faithfully directed the footsteps of this good steward of his Master's gifts. As he watched the earnest look, the respectful reverence, the deep interest of the youth who surrounded Roland, he rejoiced in the inward conviction that none of this good seed would fall to the ground unblessed; and many a tale of sacred influence and private benevolence reached the ears of Uncle Malcolm in his private visits among the people of Woodcliff, for Roland was not one to blazon his own good deeds. "We hae had a blessed day!" said the good man, at the close of a Sabbath-day at Woodcliff; "what a holy privilege we hae enjoyed in worshipping a common Saviour!" for they had attended on the services of each church, and had heard faithful discourses from both ministers. "Stanley seems a maist devoted mon," said Uncle Malcolm, "how meikle o' Christ there is in his sermons!"