And ye see Jeames Johnstone's no an ill-nater'd man like me.

He's a douce man, and he's sure to be weel-pleased and come till's tay.

Na, na; ye needna come back.

Guid nicht to ye, my dawtie.

The Lord bless ye for comin' to pray wi' an ill-nater'd man." Annie sped upon her mission of love through the murky streets and lanes of Glamerton, as certainly a divine messenger as any seraph crossing the blue empyrean upon level wing.