"It's the wean I'm thinkin' of, Jamie," she whispered.

"He's asleep, at last, but he's nae richt, Jamie--he's far frae richt." Jamie sighed, and turned to the stove.

He put the kettle on, that he might make himself a cup of tea.

Annie was not strong enough to get up and do any of the work, though it hurt her sair to see her man busy about the wee hoose.

She could eat no solid food; the doctor had ordered milk for her, and beef tea, and jellies.