As he sang this rather pretty song in the voice of a cracked tea-kettle, a thrill of delight ran through the company when deaf Mrs Crowder, being ignorant of what was going on, suddenly said that as there seemed to be a pause in the flow of soul, she, although a woman, would venture to express a sentiment, if not to propose a toast. This was of course received with a shout of joy, which effectually quenched Mr Smart. In a sweet tremulous little voice the old lady said, “let us wish, with all our hearts, that health, happiness, charity, and truth may dwell as long as it shall stand, under the roof-tree of Loch Dhu!”

Of course this called McLeod to his legs again, after which there were more speeches and more songs—both grave and gay—until “nature’s sweet restorer, balmy sleep,” began gently to tickle the guests, reminding them that felicity is not less enhanced by occasions of exuberant mirth than by periods of tranquil repose.

What more can we say, good reader, than that old Mrs Crowder’s wish was fulfilled to the letter, for a large family, trained by Redding and Flora to respect the laws of God and love the name of Jesus, caused the roof-tree of Loch Dhu to ring full many a year thereafter with joyous tones, that were the direct result of “health, happiness, charity, and truth.”

McLeod senior dwelt hard by, and was made glad, as well as thoughtful, by the sight. Ian and Kenneth made a comfortable livelihood out of the saw-mill at Jenkins Creek, which ultimately became a populous settlement, whither the young Reddings went annually in summer to enjoy themselves, in which enjoyment they were greatly aided by Jonas Bellew the trapper. Roderick was equally prosperous with Barker’s Mill at Partridge Bay. Rooney continued to the end of his days in the service of his old master, while Le Rue and Elise, a happy couple, became respectively butler and cook at Loch Dhu, over the door of which establishment Redding had engraved his father-in-law’s favourite motto—“Wrecked but not Ruined.”