For a few moments both were silent.
'There's been some ill news, they tell me, Mrs.Faukner,' he said at length, when the silence had grown painful.
'Humph!' returned the old lady, her face becoming stony with the effort to suppress all emotion.

'Nae aboot Anerew ?' ''Deed is 't, mem.

An' ill news, I'm sorry to say.' 'Is he ta'en ?' 'Ay is he--by a jyler that winna tyne the grup.' 'He's no deid, John Lammie?
Dinna say 't.' 'I maun say 't, Mrs.Faukner.I had it frae Dr.Anderson, yer ain cousin.

He hintit at it afore, but his last letter leaves nae room to doobt upo' the subjeck.

I'm unco sorry to be the beirer o' sic ill news, Mrs.Faukner, but I had nae chice.' 'Ohone! Ohone! the day o' grace is by at last! My puir Anerew!' exclaimed Mrs.Falconer, and sat dumb thereafter.
Mr.Lammie tried to comfort her with some of the usual comfortless commonplaces.