One wet and windy evening Bella sat waiting for Mawson to come in to supper.  She had gone to a week-night service at the church, greatly excited because the Bishop was to be present.  The supper was ready and keeping hot in the oven, the fire sparkled in the bright range, and Bella sat crocheting and singing to herself, “From Greenland’s icy mountains.”  For Bella was passionately interested in missions.  The needs of the heathen lay on her heart.  Every penny she could scrape together went into “the box.”  The War had reduced her small income, and she could no longer live without letting her rooms, but whatever she had to do without her contributions to missions never faltered; indeed, they had increased.  Missions were the romance of her life.  They put a scarlet thread into the grey.  The one woman she had ever envied was Mary Slessor of Calabar.

Mawson came in much out of breath, having run up the hill to get out of the darkness.

“Weel, and hoo’s the Bishop?” Bella said in jocular tones.

“Ow, ’e was lovely.  ’E said the Judgment was ’anging over all of us.”

“Oh, wumman,” said Bella, as she dumped a loaf viciously on the platter, “d’ye need a Bishop to tell ye that?  I’m sure I’ve kent it a’ ma days.”

“It gives me the creeps to think of it.  Imagine standin’ h’up before h’all the earth and ‘aving all your little bits o’ sins fetched out against you!  But”—­hopefully—­“I don’t see myself ’ow there’ll be time.”

“Ay, there’ll be time!  There’ll be a’ Eternity afore us, and as far as I can see there’ll be naething else to do.”

“Ow,” Mawson wailed.  “You do make it sound so ’orrid, Bella.  The Bishop was much more comfortable, and ’e ’as such a nice rosy face you can’t picture anything very bad ’appening to ’im.  But I suppose Bishops’ll be judged like everyone else.”

“They will that.”  Bella’s tone was emphatic, almost vindictive.

“Oh, well,” said Mawson, who looked consistently on the bright sides, “I dare say they won’t pay much h’attention to the likes of us when they’ve Kings and Bishops and M.P.’s and London ladies to judge.  Their sins will be a bit more interestin’ than my little lot....  Well, I’ll be glad of a cup of tea, for it’s thirsty work listening to sermons.  I’ll just lay me ’at and coat down ’ere, if you don’t mind, Bella.  Now, this is cosy.  I was thinkin’ of this as I came paddin’ over the bridge listening to the sound of the wind and the water.  A river’s a frightenin’ sort of thing at night and after ‘earin’ about the Judgment too.”

Miss Bathgate took a savoury-smelling dish from the oven and put it, along with two hot plates, before Mawson, then put the teapot before herself and they began.

“Whaur’s Miss Reston the nicht?” Bella asked, as she helped herself to hot buttered toast.

“Dinin’ with Sir John and Lady Tweedie.  She’s wearin’ a lovely new gown, sort of yellow.  It suited her a treat.  I must say she did look noble.  She is ’andsome, don’t you think?”