“Yes, lad, ’ee has certainly saved the little lady’s life. She will take no harm now. She is in a sound sleep and a gentle perspiration. She is perfectly safe now. So ’ee may rest satisfied.”
“‘Satisfied,’ dear granny!” exclaimed the youth, with a look of radiant happiness on his face. “‘Satisfied?’ Why, I am overjoyed, crowned, blessed! I would rather have saved her precious life than to have won all the wealth, fame, power and glory of this world!”
“I believe ’ee, lad! I believe ’ee!”
“But, what do I say? The glory of this world? Why, I would rather have saved her sacred life than have won Heaven!”
“Eh! Stop there, lad! ’Ee’s growing profane! Is that ’ee gratitude to the Lord? Stop at the glory of this world, lad, and do not compare any earthly good with the heavenly blessedness,” said the dame, laying down her knitting and placing her spectacles high on her cap that she might look him straight in the face with her earnest blue eyes.
“I did not mean to be profane,” said David, meekly.
The good woman resumed her work, and David took up his own, and they worked in silence until the hour for retiring drew near, when Dame Lindsay finally rolled up her knitting, took off her spectacles and put them both away, and said:
“Now, David, read a chapter from the Word, and then get ’ee to bed, lad.”
“And you, granny? Where will you sleep?” inquired the young man.
“I shall sit in my old arm-chair by the fire as long as I can keep up, and then I shall lie down on the bed beside the lassie, so as to wake readily if she should stir.”