‘Curious,’ ejaculated the minister.  ’This Jeanie will have grown old and died, perhaps, forty years ago, and my aunt’s speaking of her as if she was a young thing at work in the next room!’

‘And what did you say to Mistress Macdonald?’ the doctor asked, with a cheerful purpose in his tone.

‘I explained to her that her poor head was wandering.’

’Nay, now, but, Miss Macdonald, I’m thinking if I were you I would tell her that the curly cow had her calf.’

’I never’—­tearfully—­’told my mother a falsehood in my life, except when I was a very little girl, and then’—­Miss Macdonald paused to wipe her eyes—­’she spoke to me so beautifully out of the Bible about it.’

The married sister chimed in mournfully, ’How often have I heard my mother say that not one of her children had ever told her a lie!’

‘Yes, yes, but——­’ There was a tone in the doctor’s voice as if he would like to have used a strong word, but he schooled himself.

‘It’s curious the notion she has got of not eating,’ broke in the minister.  ‘I held the broth myself, but she would have none of it.’

In the next room the flames of a large fire were sending reflections over the polished surfaces of massive bedroom furniture.  The wind blew against this side of the house and rattled the windows, as if angry to see the picture of luxury and warmth within.  It was a handsome stately room, and all that was in it dated back many a year.  In a chintz arm-chair by the fireside its mistress sat—­a very old lady, but there was still dignity in her pose.  Her hair, perfectly white, was still plentiful; her eye had still something of brightness, and there was upon the aged features the cast of thought and the habitual look of intelligence.  Beside her upon a small table were such accompaniments of age as daughter and nurse deemed suitable—­the large print Bible, the big spectacles and caudle cup.  The lady sat looking about her with a quick restless expression, like a prisoner alert to escape; she was tied to her chair—­not by cords—­by the failure of muscular strength; but perhaps she did not know that.  She eyed her attendant with bright furtive glances, as if the meek sombre woman who sat sewing beside her were her jailer.

The party in the dining-room broke up their vain discussion, and came for another visit of personal inspection.

’Mother, this is the doctor come to see you.  Do you not remember the doctor?’

The old lady looked at all four of them brightly enough.  ’I haena the pleasure of remembering who ye are, but perhaps it will return to me.’  There was restrained politeness in her manner.

The doctor spoke.  ’It’s a very bad tale I’m hearing about you to-day, that you’ve begun to refuse your meat.  A person of your experience, Mistress Macdonald, ought to know that we must eat to live.’  He had a basin of food in his hand.  ‘Now just to please me, Mistress Macdonald.’