"And Effie?" repeated her affectionate sister again and again. "And—and" (fain would she have said Butler, but she modified the direct inquiry)—"and Mr. and Mrs. Saddletree—and Dumbiedikes—and a' friends?"
"A' weel—a' weel, praise to His name!"
"And—Mr. Butler—he wasna weel when I gaed awa?"
"He is quite mended—quite weel," replied her father.
"Thank God—but O, dear father, Effie?—Effie?"
"You will never see her mair, my bairn," answered Deans in a solemn tone— "You are the ae and only leaf left now on the auld tree—hale be your portion!"
"She is dead!—She is slain!—It has come ower late!" exclaimed Jeanie, wringing her hands.
"No, Jeanie," returned Deans, in the same grave melancholy tone. "She lives in the flesh, and is at freedom from earthly restraint, if she were as much alive in faith, and as free from the bonds of Satan."
"The Lord protect us!" said Jeanie.—"Can the unhappy bairn hae left you for that villain?"
"It is ower truly spoken," said Deans—"She has left her auld father, that has wept and prayed for her—She has left her sister, that travailed and toiled for her like a mother—She has left the bones of her mother, and the land of her people, and she is ower the march wi' that son of Belial—She has made a moonlight flitting of it." He paused, for a feeling betwixt sorrow and strong resentment choked his utterance.