There was a good reason for that in John’s esteem, and in Allison’s. Saunners appreciated the honour which was done him. He also did honour to the occasion—pronouncing with unction over the bride and bridegroom the blessings so long ago spoken at the gate of Bethlehem.

It was not quite springtime yet, but the day was like a spring day, with a grey sky, and a west wind blowing softly, when John and Allison came in sight of the kirk of Kilgower. Only the voice of the brown burn broke the stillness, murmuring its way past the manse garden, and the kirkyard wall, and over the stepping-stones on which Allison had not dared to rest her tired feet, on the morning when she saw it last, and she said in her heart:

“Oh! can it be that I am the same woman who would fain have died on that day?”

They went into the kirkyard first. The tears which fell on the white headstone were not all tears of sorrow. They told of full submission, of glad acceptance of God’s will in all the past, and of gratitude for all that the future promised.

“John,” said she softly. But her voice failed her to say more.

“We will come again, dear,” said he gently, and he led her away.

And so they went on to the manse, and Allison bowed her head while the good old man blessed her, and was glad, though the tears were very near her eyes. John had much to tell the minister about his son and his happy family, and of their way of life, and the good which they did in the town; and after a little Allison smiled as she met her husband’s kind eyes, and was ready with her answers when Dr Hadden turned to her.

They were to stay over the Sabbath. Surely they must stay over the Sabbath, the minister said, and the reason which he gave for their staying was the one which John would have given for wishing to go away.

“There will be so many at the kirk who will like to see Allison Bain’s face again,” said he.

But when he added reverently, “And doubtless it is in her heart to thank God in His own house, for all the way by which He has led her since that sorrowful day,” what could they do but promise to remain?