who are never weary of well-doing.  And what was more extraordinary, one verse of the psalm—­that which we have quoted—­had special reference to the manner of her death, and her deliverance from condemnation in the world to come.  No doubt the man who meditates upon his own crime or folly at the very moment when he is suffering from its sharp recalcitrations, is just about as miserable a wretch as the reformatory of the world can present; but when, to the effects upon himself, he is compelled to think of the cruelty he has exercised towards others—­and those perhaps found out to be his best friends—­we doubt if there are any words beyond the vocabulary of the condemned that are sufficient to express his anguish.  Even this did not comprehend all the suffering of Mr. Dodds, for, was he not under doom without knowing what form it was to assume, whether the spectre (whose cookery might be a sham) would choke him, burn him, or run away with him?

Deeply steeped in this remorseful contemplation, during which the figure of his ill-used wife flitted before the eye of his fancy with scarcely less of substantial reality than she had shown in her spectral form, he found that he had lost all regard to time.  The night was fast setting in, the shadows of the tall houses were falling deeper and deeper on the room, and the Sabbath stillness was a solemn contrast to the perturbations inside the chamber of his soul, where “the serpents and the cockatrices would not be charmed.”  Still, everything within and without was dreary, and the spoliation of his means did not tend to enliven the outer scene, or impart a charm to the owner.  While in this state of depression, Tammas heard a knock at the door.  It was not, as on the former occasions, what is called a tirl.  It might be a neighbour, or it might be an old crony, and he stood in need of some one to raise his spirits, so he went to the door and opened it.  But what was his horror when he saw enter a female figure, in all respects so like his feared visitor that he concluded in the instant that she was the same! nor could all his penitence afford him resolution enough to make a proper examination; besides, it was grey dark, and even a pair of better eyes than he could boast of, might, under the circumstances soon to appear, have been deceived.  Retreating into the kitchen, he was followed by this dubious, and yet not dubious visitor, who, as he threw himself upon a chair, took a seat right opposite to him.

“Ye’ll no ken me, Tammas Dodds?” said she.

Whereupon Tammas looked and looked again, and still the likeness he dreaded was so impressive, that, in place of moving his tongue, he moved, that is, he shuddered, all over.

“What—­eh?” at length he stuttered; “ken ye? wha in God’s name are ye?  No surely Mrs. Janet Dodds in the likeness of the flesh!”

“No, but her sister, Mrs. Paterson,” replied the other.  “And is it possible ye can hae forgotten the only woman who was present at your first marriage?”