There was no disappointment in the glorious old Abbey and its Glen.

It was big enough and grand enough, and the memorable carved letters on the top of the tower--"King Robert The Bruce"-- filled my eye and my heart as fully as of old.

Nor was the Abbey bell disappointing, when I heard it for the first time after my return.

For this I was grateful.

It gave me a rallying point, and around the old Abbey, with its Palace ruins and the Glen, other objects adjusted themselves in their true proportions after a time.
My relatives were exceedingly kind, and the oldest of all, my dear old Auntie Charlotte, in a moment of exultation exclaimed: "Oh, you will just be coming back here some day and _keep a shop in the High Street_." To keep a shop in the High Street was her idea of triumph.