“When a’ lookit at the doctor’s face,” Marget said, “a’ thocht him the winsomest man a’ ever saw. He wes transfigured that nicht, for a’ ‘m judgin’ there’s nae transfiguration like luve.”
“It’s God’s wull an’ maun be borne, but it’s a sair wull fur me, an’ a’ ‘m no ungratefu’ tae you, doctor, for a’ ye’ve dune and what ye said the nicht,” and Tammas went back to sit with Annie for the last time.
Jess picked her way through the deep snow to the main road, with a skill that came of long experience, and the doctor held converse with her according to his wont.
“Eh, Jess, wumman, yon wes the hardest wark a’ hae tae face, and a’ wud raither hae taen ma chance o’ anither row in a Glen Urtach drift than tell Tammas Mitchell his wife wes deein’.
“A’ said she cudna be cured, and it was true, for there’s juist ae man in the land fit for ‘t, and they micht as weel try tae get the mune oot o’ heaven. Sae a’ said naethin’ tae vex Tammas’s hert, for it’s heavy eneuch withoot regrets.
“But it’s hard, Jess, that money will buy life after a’, an’ if Annie wes a duchess her man wudna lose her; but bein’ only a puir cotter’s wife, she maun dee afore the week ‘s oot.
“Gin we hed him the morn there’s little doot she wud be saved, for he hesna lost mair than five per cent. o’ his cases, and they ‘ill be puir toons-craturs, no strappin’ women like Annie.
“It’s oot o’ the question, Jess, sae hurry up, lass, for we’ve hed a heavy day. But it wud be the grandest thing that wes ever done in the Glen in oor time if it could be managed by hook or crook.
“We’ll gang and see Drumsheugh, Jess; he’s anither man sin’ Geordie Hoo’s deith, and he was aye kinder than fouk kent.” And the doctor passed at a gallop through the village, whose lights shone across the white frost-bound road.
“Come in by, doctor; a’ heard ye on the road; ye ‘ill hae been at Tammas Mitchell’s; hoo’s the gudewife? A’ doot she’s sober.”