ANGUS. 373 



close. The congregation was larger than used to assem- 

 ble in the parish church, and apparently more attentive. 

 It was striking enough to see the familiar faces in such 

 a place, ranged, not in the accustomed pews which some 

 of them have occupied in my recollection for full thirty 

 years, but all mixed up in one group, poor and rich 

 together. The day was gusty and fitful ; the surround- 

 ing walls of deep red, with their many windows, now glared 

 upon us in sunshine, now lay deep in shadow, there 

 was the occasional rattle of a window in the upper 

 stories as the gust shook the boards, and the measured 

 roar of the sea mingled from the beginning till the close 

 of the service with the tones of the psalmody and the 

 voice of the speaker. Poor Angus was greatly engaged 

 in carrying forms and chairs, and in looking, uncouthly 

 enough, after the comforts of a few favourites, mostly 

 old women. Aunt Jenny tells me that he prays every 

 night in his own peculiar style for " Miller and Miller's 

 boy." ' 



' 9 o'clock. 



c I have been seeing the old chapel of St Regulus 

 and poor Liza's grave. The little mound is as well 

 marked as it was four years ago, and it is now wrapped 

 over with a mound of rich unbroken turf. The little 

 head-stone bearing your and my name has whitened 

 somewhat under the influence of the weather, and leans 

 slightly to one side, but there is no other change. The 

 sun was hastening to his setting, red and broad, and 

 throwing a strong bright gleam on the upper foliage 

 of the surrounding wood, and on the top of the ruin, 

 while the tombs and graves lay in deep shadow. Poor 

 Liza ! The little events of her span-long life rose all 

 before me, from the time that I first felt that I was a 

 father, till I flung myself down in uncontrollable an- 



