“Come away, my bairn; Donald will have plenty to say to you another time,” said Mrs. Duncan, kindly. “He is a bit drowsy now, and he is apt to wander at such times.” But the minister heard her, and a sort of holy smile lit up his rugged face.
“Ay, but He’ll not let me wander far; I have always got a grip of His hand, and if my old feet stumble a bit I’m just lifted up. No, I could not forget His name, which is just Love, and nothing else. But perhaps you are right, Jennie, lass, and I am a bit sleepy. Take both the bairns away, and watch over them as though they were lambs of the fold—and so they are lambs of His fold,” finished the old man. “And may be the Shepherd found them straying, poor bit creatures, and sent them here for you and me to mind, my woman.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
TRACKED AT LAST.
Thus it was granted me
To know that he loved me to the depth and height
Of such large natures; ever competent,
With grand horizons by the sea or land,
To love’s grand sunrise.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
It was at the close of a lovely September day that Raby Ferrers sat alone in the piazza of a large fashionable boarding-house in W——. This favorite American watering-place was, as usual, thronged by visitors, who came either to seek relief for various ailments from the far-famed hot springs, or to enjoy the salubrious air and splendid scenery that made W—— so notorious.