“Oh, no! All that I have to do can be done after,” said John. “Will it be too soon for you?”
Allison’s modest “providing” had been growing under her own busy hands, during the brief leisure which her daily duties left her. It was all of the plainest and simplest, but it was sufficient in her esteem.
“Yes,” said she after a moment’s hesitation, “I can be ready, and—whatever more you think I need—you will have to give me, John.”
John laughed and kissed her hand. Then he said gravely:
“And, dear, I made a promise once, for you and for myself. I said, if this happy day should ever come, I would take my wife, first of all, to the manse of Kilgower—to get an old man’s blessing.”
Kilgower! At the name, a shadow of the old trouble fell on Allison’s face—for the last time.
“I will go anywhere with you, John,” said she.
The next day Allison went home to the manse—another “happy homecoming,” as Marjorie called it,—though she was to be there only a little while. There were few changes in the manse since the old days. There was a gleam of silver on the dark hair of the minister, and the face of the minister’s wife showed a touch of care, now and then, when she fell into silence. But in the home there were cheerfulness and content, and a hopeful outlook as there had always been, and the peace which comes as the fulfilment of a promise which cannot be broken.
The boys had grown bigger and stronger, and they had three sisters now. Jack was not at home. Jack was in the South learning to make steam engines, and when he had learned, he was going to America to make his fortune, like John Beaton. And so was Davie. Only Davie was to have land—a farm of a thousand acres. To America the thoughts and hopes of all the young people of the manse were turning, it seemed, and the thoughts of a good many in the town, as well.
John Beaton’s success in the new country to which he had gone, was the theme of admiring discussion among the townsfolk, and when John came to Nethermuir, before the week was over, he found that all arrangements had been made for a lecture about America, which was to be delivered in the kirk. John saw at once that he could not refuse to speak. But it would be no lecture that he could give, he declared. If any one had any questions to ask, he would answer them as well as he could. And this he did, to the general satisfaction.