"
"Weel, I think we'll gang hame noo."
They rose, and went, hand in hand, over the bridge, and round the end
of its parapet, and down the steep descent to the cottage at its foot,
Tibbie's cloak shining all the way, but, now that the sun was down,
with a chastened radiance. When she had laid it aside, and was seated
on her low wooden chair within reach of her spinning-wheel,
"Noo," said Tibbie, "ye'll jist read a chapter till me, lassie, afore
ye gang hame, and syne I s' gang to my bed. Blin'ness is a sair savin'
o' can'les."
She forgot that it was summer, when, in those northern regions, the
night has no time to gather before the sun is flashing again in the
east.
The chapter Annie chose was the ninth of St John's Gospel, about Jesus
curing the man blind from his birth. When she had finished, Annie said,
"Michtna he cure you, Tibbie, gin ye spiered at him?"
"Ay micht he, and ay will he," answered Tibbie. "I'm only jist bidin'
his time. But I'm thinkin' he'll cure me better yet nor he cured that
blin' man. He'll jist tak' the body aff o' me a'thegither, and syne
I'll see, no wi' een like yours, but wi' my haill speeritual body. Ye
min' that verse i' the prophecees o' Ezakiel: I ken't weel by hert.
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