Kirsty saw their shadows darken the wall, and turning from her work at the dresser, ran to the door to meet them.
‘God be thankit!’ cried David.
Marion gave her daughter one loving look, and entering cast a fearful, questioning glance around the kitchen.
‘Whaur’s Steenie?’ she said.
‘He’s wi’ Phemy, I’m thinkin,’ faltered Kirsty.
‘Lassie, are ye dementit?’ her mother almost screamed. ‘We’re this minute come frae there!’
‘He is wi’ Phemy, mother. The Lord canna surely hae pairtit them, gangin in maist haudin han’s!’
‘Kirsty, I haud ye accoontable for my Steenie!’ cried Marion, sinking on a chair, and covering her face with her hands.
‘It’s the wull o’ God ’at’s accoontable for him, wuman!’ answered David, sitting down beside her, and laying hold of her arm.
She burst into terrible weeping.