'Greatly better, thank you; I think I could take another cup of your tea, it seems quite to invigorate me. The rich cream, I suppose, and the fine mountain air. You have many mercies, Mrs. Boague, many mercies, and I hope you are duly thankful.'

'Ou ay, mem. Rael thankfu'; but I'm thinkin' it's what cam frae Stephen's crame pat 'at maks the tea sae nappy. It's Luckie Tuppeny's gill stoup gae that crame, an' no the kye here-awa I'm thinkin'. An' as for thankfu'ness for our mercies, we beut a' to hae that, as the minister says. It's o' the Lord's mercies we're no consumed, gentle and simple thegither; we're a' John Tamson's bairns sae far as that gangs, or aiblins Auld Nick's, wha kens? gin we dinna repent.'

'Ah! very true, and a solemn thought,' said Mrs. Sangster. She was accustomed to do the Scripture quoting and solemn warnings herself, when she visited her poorer neighbours, sandwiching her dole-bread with rich and succulent slices of good advice; but here for once the tables were turned. It was Mrs. Boague this time, who was performing the act of mercy, and she realized the privileges of her position. While proud and pleased to show hospitality to Mrs. Sangster, she was not going to submit to exhortation such as flesh and blood can only tolerate in view of an eleemosynary accompaniment. Mrs. Boague saw in Mrs. Sangster a fellow-member of the Free Church, a Christian sister, and was disposed to be very sisterly indeed. Mrs. Sangster liked Christian sisterhood too, but it was sisterhood with Lady Grizel Pitlochrie, and other Free Churchwomen of noble birth. We all like to look upwards, even in bestowing our best and purest affections, and feel it easier to realize the brotherhood of man in connection with Lord Dives in his coach, than with poor Lazarus who sweeps the crossing, and gets the mud spatters from his Lordship's wheels.

Mrs. Sangster held the old-fashioned notion, that God, having made her a lady, meant her to rule, instruct, rebuke and direct the lower classes in the paths of holiness; but, alas! the Free Church movement, which gave this idea increased occupation, was sapping the foundations on which it rested. A secession from, and a protest against authority in Church and State, it asked the rich to induce and influence the poor, while itself courted them by dwelling strongly on their equal standing in the Church. It has certainly led to a more democratic state of feeling in the country, and this may or may not be a good thing, according as the democracy is wise or the reverse. Meanwhile, it has loosened old ties of interdependence, and helped to widen the gulf between the classes; but then all advancement has to be paid for--Adam and Eve got their eyes opened, but, to compensate, they were turned out of the garden. The question in either case is, is the gain worth the price paid for it?

The price Mrs. Sangster had to pay for her entertainment, and she was quick enough to see it at once and to submit, was familiarity: so she repeated, 'Very true, indeed, Mrs. Boague, and really Stephen's cream-pot brings out the flavour of the tea. It's a grand idea, I must give Mr. Sangster some the next time he is kept late at a meeting of the Presbytery or the Kirk-session. He comes home so tired sometimes. These are searching times, Mrs. Boague, we have all need to keep our loins girded and our lamps burning. But you know that yourself, Mrs. Boague. And a sweet quiet home you have here, and such fine healthy children. It must be sweet to live here in the great solitude of nature, and most imposing. Away from the temptations of the world, you must have much time for meditation and the perusal of the Word.

'I'm no sae sure o' that, mem. Gin ye had sax bairns to tent an' skelp an' do for, ye'd find yer haunds braw an' fu', no to mention the ither clout that's aye wantin' on yer gudeman's breeks. It's sma' time I hae for Bible readin' 'at canna get a steek peuten in my ain claes whiles. Whaur wad I be gin I gaed meditatin', an' a' thae bairns wi' naething i' their wee wames, skirlin' for a piece, round a teum aumbry? Na, na, mem! The better pairt's no for puir folk! gin that means glowerin' at print. It maun be for you gentles, 'at gars ither folk do yer wark, an' sits a' day fornent the fire toastin' yer hirdies.'

'Ah, Mrs. Boague! wealth and station bring great anxieties, duties, and temptations. The rich are not to be envied.'

'Belike no, mem; but I ne'er saw the ane wad gie up the siller sae lang as they cud hing on til't. An' as for the solitude o' natur, what thocht ye o't yersel', whan ye cam spielin' doun the braeside an hour syne?'

'Ah! Indeed, Mrs. Boague, that was a painful experience, and very thankful I am to be in bigget land again. Indeed, I almost gave up hope of ever coming down alive, and if it had not been for Roderick Brown, that good young man, I believe I would have stuck fast. It was a fearsome road. We came through burns and down crags, but he has brought me safe down, like the good pastor he is, guiding the trembling steps of a lamb of his flock.'

'Ou ay, mem; mony's the time my gudeman Stephen diz the same, whan he finds some teough auld yow stucken faur up amang the scaurs. He juist pu's her doon by the lug an' the horn, an' she'll come hirplin' hame ahint him, juist sic like as it micht be yersel'.'