whence he could wheel himself in and out as he pleased. To-day the
family table was outspread, and the family plate glittered, and the
family portraits stared down from the wall as the last Earl of
Cairnforth moved--or rather was moved--slowly down the long room.
Malcolm was wheeling him to a side seat well sheltered and comfortable,
when he said,

"Stop! Remember I am twenty-one to-day. I think I ought to take my
seat at the head of my own table."

Malcolm obeyed. And thus, for the first time since the late earl's
death, the place--the master's place--was filled.

"Mr. Cardross, will you say grace?"

The minister tried once--twice--thrice; but his voice failed him.
His tender heart, which had lived through so many losses, and this day
saw all the past brought before him vivid as yesterday, entirely broke
down. Thereupon the earl, from his seat at the head of his own table,
repeated simply and naturally the few words which every head of a
household--as priest in his own family--may well say, "For these
and all other mercies, Lord, make us thankful."

After that, Mr. Menteith took snuff vehemently, and Mr. Cardross openly
wiped his eyes. But Helen's, if not quite dry, were very bright. Her
woman's heart, which looked beyond the pain of suffering into the beauty
of suffering nobly endured, even as faith looks through "the grave and
gate of death" into the glories of immortality--Helen's heart was
scarcely sad, but very glad and proud.