She asked Guy if he had done this. He had not. When she got home she asked all the inmates of Knowe Park if they had planted them;—they had not. She ran over in her mind every likely person, and asked as many as she came into contact with. All answered, No. It was only after getting Guy to watch very strictly, for other flowers had been added besides those she saw first, that she found out that it had been done by Dan.
Bell was amazed. “O’ a’ the folk in the world, Dan was the last onybody wad a’ thocht on. Mr. and Mrs. Barrie could never guess him. There’s mair gude in the craitur than ever I thocht. I like Dan. Noo when I think on’t, I’m awfu’ glad that it was Dan.”
As soon as Mr. Barrie heard of it, he called at Dan’s house. This was the first time a minister had ever been in it. Dan was a reckless, brave man, utterly indifferent about religion, and when he saw Mr. Barrie enter his house he got very uncomfortable—he felt the power of at least the presence of goodness, and what conscience he had waxed warm within him.
Mr. Barrie saw this, and knowing the way to Dan’s heart, began first to talk of his dog, then of his ferrets, until Dan felt more at ease, and even offered to give Mr. Barrie a young bull-dog, which Dan thus described:
“He’s pure bred, an’ the vera picture o’ Burke there; an’ his mither, auld Nancie that’s noo deid an’ gane, was the finest o’ her kind in Britain.”
“Then you miss old Nancie, Dan?”
“Miss her! miss her, Mr. Barrie!” said Dan, now quite at his ease; “I can hardly get ower her death.”
“Dan,” said Mr. Barrie, grasping his horny and by no means clean hand, “I loved my wee Nellie; and Mrs. Barrie and all of us thank you.” Here Dan started and said, “Oh!” but Mr. Barrie still pressed his hand and spoke on. “Yes, Dan, and we love you for loving her; and, Dan, wee Nellie would like to meet you in heaven to thank you herself.”
Here Dan started and said, “Me in heaven, Mr. Barrie! me in heaven—that’s what she’ll never see.”
“THE OLD, OLD STORY.”