Then Thomas came to help his mother to her room, but she, with her eyes upon her husband, quietly put Thomas aside and said, "Donald, will you tak me ben ?" Rarely had she called him by his name before the family, and all felt that this was a most unusual demonstration of tenderness on her part.
The old man glanced quickly at her from under his overhanging eyebrows, and met her bright upward look with an involuntary shake of the head and a slight sigh.

Comfort was not for him, and he must not delude himself.

But with a little laugh she put her hand on his arm, and as if administering reproof to a little child, she said some words in Gaelic.
"Oh, woman, woman!" said Donald in reply, "if it was yourself we had to deal with--" "Whisht, man! Will you be putting me before your Father in heaven ?" she said, as they disappeared into the other room.
There was no fiddle that evening.

There was no heart for it with Thomas, neither was there time, for there was the milking to do, and the "sorting" of the pails and pans, and the preparing for churning in the morning, so that when all was done, the long evening had faded into the twilight and it was time for bed.
Before going upstairs, Thomas took Hughie into "the room" where his mother's bed had been placed.

Thomas gave her her medicine and made her comfortable for the night.
"Is there nothing else now, mother ?" he said, still lingering about her.
"No, Thomas, my man.