"Bring my study Bible," he said to her feebly.
She went and brought it--a large quarto Bible.
"Here, Annie," said the dying man, "here's my Bible that I've made but
ower little use o' mysel'. Promise me, if ever ye have a house o' your
own, that ye'll read out o' that book every day at worship. I want you
not to forget me, as, if all's well, I shall never forget you."
"That _will_ I, sir," responded Annie earnestly.
"And ye'll find a new five-pound note between the leaves. Take it, for
my sake."
Money! Ah, well! Love can turn gold into grace.
"Yes, sir," answered Annie, feeling this was no time for objecting to
anything.
"And good-bye, Annie. I can't speak more."
He drew her to him again, and kissed her for the last time. Then he
turned his face to the wall, and Annie went home weeping, with the
great Bible in her arms.
In the inadvertence of grief, she ran into the shop.
"What hae ye gotten there, lassie?" said Bruce, as sharply as if she
might have stolen it.
"Mr Cowie gave me his Bible, 'cause he's dein' himsel', and doesna want
it ony langer," answered Annie.
"Lat's luik at it."
Annie gave it up with reluctance.
"It's a braw buik, and bonnie buirds--though gowd an' purple maitters
little to the Bible.
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