“I don’t suppose they have any friends,” said Colin, who had by this time forgotten the suggestion of his English acquaintances. “He would never have brought his sister here with him if he had had anyone to leave her with--that is, if he believed, as he says he does, that he was going to die,” said the young man, with a pang of fellow-feeling and natural pity, “which are terrible words to say.” “I’m no so sure about either of your propositions,” said Lauderdale; “I’ve very little objection to die, for my part. No to speak of hopes a man has as a Christian--though I maybe canna see them as clear as that poor callant thinks he does--it would be an awfu’ satisfaction to ken what was the meaning of it all, which is my grand difficulty in this life. And I cannot say I am satisfied, for that matter, that he brought his sister here for want of somebody to leave her with; she’s a kind of property that he wouldna like to leave behind. He was not thinking of her when they started, but of himsel’; nor can I see that his mind’s awakening to any thought of her even now, though he’s awfu’ anxious, no doubt, about her soul, and yours, and mine. Whisht! it’s temperament, callant. I’m no blaming the poor dying lad. It’s hard upon a man if he cannot be permitted to take some bit female creature that belongs to him as far as the grave’s mouth. She maun find her way back from there the best way she can. It’s human nature, Colin, for a’ you look like a glaring lion at me.” “I prefer your ordinary manner of expounding human nature,” said Colin. “Don’t talk like this; if Miss Meredith is left so helpless and solitary, at all events, Lauderdale, she can rely on you and me.” “Ay,” said the philosopher shortly; “and grand protectors we would be for the like of her. Two men no her equals in the eye of the world--I’m no heeding your indignant looks, my freend; I’m a better judge than you of some things--and one of us no of an age to be over and above trusted. A lad like you can take care of a bit thing like her only in one way; and that’s out of the question under present circumstances--even if either of you were thinking of such vanities, of which I see no sign.” “None whatever,” said Colin, with momentary heat. “She is not in my way; and, besides, she is greatly too much occupied to think of any such vanities, as you say.” Lauderdale cast a half-amused, suspicious look at his companion, whose face was flushed a little. Colin was thinking only of Alice’s want of comprehension and sympathy on the previous night; but the touch of offence and mortification was as evident as if she had been unkind to him in more important particulars.