“Being agreed on that point, it’s easier to manage the rest,” Lauderdale resumed, with the ghost of a smile; “and I dinna pretend, for my own part, to be a fit guardian for a young leddy. It’s a’ very well for Telle-machus to wander about the world like this, but I’m no qualified to keep watch and ward over the princess. Poor thing!” said the philosopher, “it’s awfu’ early to begin her troubles; but I would be easy in my mind, comparatively, if we could find out about their friends. She’s no so very communicative in that particular; and she has her bit woman’s whiles, innocent as she looks. She’ll give me no satisfaction, though I’m awfu’ cunning in my questions. What was it yon silly woman said about some Meredith of some place? I’m no without suspicions in my own mind.” “What sort of suspicions?” said Colin. “She said Meredith of Maltby. I wrote it down somewhere. There was a row about him in the papers--don’t you remember--a few years ago.” “Oh ay, I remember,” said Lauderdale; “one of them that consume widows’ houses, and for a pretence make long prayers. The wonder to me is how this callant, if he should happen to be such a man’s son, did not take a sickening at religion altogether. That’s the consequence in a common mind. It gives me a higher notion of this poor lad. He has his faults, like most folk I ken,” said Lauderdale. “He’s awfu’ young, which is the chief of all, and it’s one that will never mend in his case in this life; but, if he’s yon man’s son, no to have abandoned a’ religion, no to have scorned the very name of preaching and prayer, is a clear token to me that the root of the matter’s in him; though he may be a wee unrighteous to his ain flesh and blood”--the philosopher went on philosophically--“that’s neither here nor there.” “If religion does not make us righteous to our own flesh and blood, what is the good of it?” said Colin. “To care for souls, as you say, but not to care for leaving his sister so helpless and desolate, would be to me as bad as his father’s wickedness. Bah! his father!--what am I saying? He is no more his father than the Duke is mine. It is only a coincidence of name.” “I’m making no assertions,” said Lauderdale. “It may be or it may not be; I’m no saying: but you should aye bear in mind that there’s an awfu’ difference between practice and theory. To have a good theory--or, if ye like, a grand ideal--o’ existence, is about as much as a man can attain to in this world. To put it into full practice is reserved, let us aye hope, for the life to come. However, I wouldna say,” said Colin’s guardian, changing his tone, “but that kind of practical paradox might run in the blood. Our friend Arthur, poor man! has no meaning of neglect to his sister. Do no man injustice. Maybe the other had as little intention of cheating them that turned out his victims. An awfu’ practical accident like that might be accompanied by a beautiful theory. Just as in the case of his son--”