But she met him with hearty kindness, and after he had been rested and refreshed he took a letter from his pocket and said, "Jennie, this came from Davie six months syne, but I thought then it would be seeking trouble to answer it." "Why, Matt, this letter is directed to me! How dared you open and keep it ?" "Dared, indeed! That's a nice way for a woman to speak to her eldest brother!' Read it, and then you'll see why I kept it from you." Poor Jennie's eyes filled fuller at every line.

He was sick and wounded and coming home to die, and wanted to see his old home and friends once more.
"O Matt! Matt!" she cried; "how cruel, how shameful, not to answer this appeal." "Well, I did it for the best; but it seems I have made a mistake.

Sam and I both thought an ailing body dovering round the hearthstone and doorstone was not to be thought of--and nobody to do a hand's turn but old Elsie, who is nearly blind--and Davie never was one to do a decent hand job, let by it was herding sheep, and that it was not like he'd be fit for; so we just agreed to let the matter lie where it was." "Oh, it was a cruel shame, Matt." "Well, it was a mistake; for yesterday Sam went to Kendall, and there, in the Stramon-gate, he met Tom Philipson, who is just home from India.

And what does Tom say but, 'Have you seen the general yet ?' and, 'Great man is Gen.

Denton,' and, 'Is it true that he is going to buy the Derwent estate ?' and, 'Wont the Indian Government miss Gen.
Denton!' Sam wasn't going to let Tom see how the land lay, and Tom went off saying that Sam had no call to be so pesky proud; that it wasn't him who had conquered the Mahrattas and taken the Ghiznee Pass." Jennie was crying bitterly, and saying softly to herself, "O my brave laddie! O my bonnie lile Davie!" "Hush, woman! No good comes of crying.