“It wes the month o' May in an early spring that year, and the leaves were oot in their bonnie first green, an' the birds were busy wi' their nests, an' the lambs were still wi' their mithers in the field. A' nature wes glad wi' us, an' blessed oor luve.
“The gate hes fa'en tae pieces lang syne, and the gap's built up wi' a dyke, an' the trees are cut doon an' the hawthorn rooted up, but it's... the same place tae me.
“A' can see the tree where we sat, an' the primroses at oor feet, an' the sun shinin' on her face, an' the look in her eyes; a' see her wavin' her hand tae me on the road aifter we pairted, an' the glint o' her goon through the firs the last nicht.
“When a' cam the next day she wesna there, an' a hoddit amang the trees for a ploy, but it wes lang waitin', for she didna come, an' a' gied hame wi' fear in ma hert.
“It micht be that she cudna get awa, a' said tae masel as a' worked at a dyke, but the dread wes hangin' ower me, an' when there wes nae-body at the stile the next nicht, a' cud bide nae langer.
“A' set aff tae her hoose, and ilka turn o' the road a' lookit for Menie. Aince ma hert loupit in ma briest like a birdie in its cage, for a wumman cam along the near road frae Kildrummie, but it wesna Menie.
“When a' saw her brither wi' his face tae Drumtochty a' kent, afore he said a word, that he wes seekin' me, an' that Menie wes dead. Never a tear cam that day tae ma een, an' he telt me, stannin' in the middle o' the road where it begins tae gae doon the hill.
“'It wes her throat, an' the doctor wes feared frae the first day; the nicht she didna come she wes carried (delirious); she... said “Jamie, Jamie,” ower an' ower again, an' wanted tae rise.
“'Aboot daybreak she cam tae hersel, and knew oor faces. “A'm deein',” she said, “an' a' didna keep ma tryst last nicht. It's ower late noo, an' a 'll no see him on earth again.
“'“Tell James Soutar that it wesna ma blame a' failed, an' gie him ma Bible,” an' a while aifter she said, “A 'll keep the tryst wi' him some day,” an'... that 's a'.'
“Her brither gied me the book an' waited, expeckin' me tae say somethin', but a' hed nae words, an' he left me on the road, coontin' me hard o' hert; a' wes a' that nicht... at the stile.