“Sir Andra cam roond and heard the accoont, an' he saw me greetin'—a' cudna help it, Jamie,—an' he read ma name at the tap o' the bed.
“'You 're from my country,' he said, but he didna need tae tell me, for a' caught the soond in his voice, an' ma hert warmed; 'don't be cast down, Lily;' a' coontit it kind tae use ma name; 'we 'ill do all we can for you.'
“'A' ken a'm deein',' a' said, 'an' a'm no feared, but a' canna thole the thocht o' slippin' awa in a hospital; it wud hae been different at hame.'
“'Ye 'ill no want a hame here, Lily;' it wes braid Scotch noo, an' it never soonded sae sweet; “an', Jamie”—here the whisper was so low, Jamie had to bend his head—“a' saw the tears in his een.”
“Rest a wee, Lily; a 'm followin'; sae he took ye tae his ain hoose an' pit ye in the best room, an' they've waitit on ye as if ye were his ain dochter;... ye dinna need tae speak; a' wudna say but Sir Andra micht be a Christian o' the auld kind, a' mean, 'I was a stranger, and ye took Me in.'”
“Jamie,” whispered Lily, before he left, “there's juist ae thing hurtin' me a wee; it's the wy ma mistress... hes treated me. A' tried tae be faithfu', though maybe a' didna answer the bells sae quick the laist sax months,... an' a' thocht she micht... hae peetied a lone cratur mair.
“It's no that a' hev ony cause o' complaint aboot wages or keep—a' wes twice raised, Jamie, an' hed a'thing a' needed, an' a'm no hurt aboot bein' cairried tae the hospital, for there were five stairs tae ma room, an'... it wudna hae been handy tae wait on me.
“Na, na, Jamie, a'm no onreasonable, but... a' houpit she wud hae come tae see me or... sent a bit word; gin a body's sober (weak) like me, ye like tae be remembered; it... minds you o' the luve o' God, Jamie,” and Lily turned her face away. “A' wes prayin' tae see a Drumtochty face aince mair, an' a've gotten that, an' gin ma mistress hed juist said,... “Ye've dune as weel as ye cud,... a' wudna ask mair.”
“Ye hae't then, Lily,” said Jamie, takingan instant resolution, “for a've been tae see yir mistress, an' a' wes fair... ashamed the wy she spoke aboot ye, being Drumtochty masel, an' no' wantin' tae show pride.
“As sure 's a'm here, she cudna find words for her thochts o' ye; it wes naethin' but yir faithfulness an' yir gude wark, hoo a'body liket ye an' hoo gratefu' she wes to you. A' wes that affeckit that a' hed tae leave.