Tragedy of a Mud House 139

I have loved beyond all others, when I say that
Nannie came between him and his prayer. Had
he been of God’s own image, unstained, he
would have forgotten all else in his Maker’s pres-
ence, but Nanny was speaking, too, and her words
choked his. At first she only whispered, but
soon what was eating her heart burst out pain-
fully, and she did not know that the minister had
stopped.

They were such moans as these that brought
him back to earth:

“T’ll hae to gang... I’m a base woman no
to be mair thankfu’ to them that is so good to
me... I dinna like to prig wi’ them to take a
roundabout road, and I’m sair fleid a’ the Roods
will see me . . . If it could just be said to poor
Sanders when he comes back that I died hur-
riedly, syne he would be able to haud up his
head . . . Oh, mither! . . . I wish terrible they
had come and ta’en me at nicht .. . It’s a dog-
cart, and I was praying it micht be a cart, so that
they could cover me wi’ straw.”

“This is more than I can stand,” the doctor
cried.

Nanny rose frightened.

“T’ve tried you, sair,” she said, “ but, oh, I’m
grateful, and I’m ready now.”

_ They all advanced towards the door without

another word, and Nanny even tried to smile.
But in the middle of the floor something came
over her, and she stood there. Gavin took her
hand, and it was cold. She looked from one to
the other, her mouth opening and shutting.

“ T canna help it,” she said.