"Mr. Purdie," said Mary, interrupting him, "I presume from your name you belong to the south of Scotland. Well, I have been told that the Scotch—the people in the southern half of Scotland—do not understand the Highland character at all; and cannot understand it, for they have no sympathy with it. I have been told that the English have far more sympathy with the Highland nature. And I am English." "Ay, and who told ye that about the Scotch and the Highlanders?" he said, suddenly and sharply. She hesitated for a second. "It is of little consequence," she answered him. "But I would like to add this—that denunciations of the inhabitants of a whole country-side do not seem to me of much value. I suppose human nature is pretty much the same in Lochgarra as it is elsewhere. And—and—besides, Mr. Purdie—I do not wish to hear evil spoken of a people amongst whom I have many friends." She spoke with some dignity. "Evil speaking?" said he, with louring eyebrows, "I for one am not given to evil speaking—or the truth might have been told you ere now." "The truth?—what truth?" she demanded. "The truth about one that is too much at your right hand, Miss Stanley, if I may make bold to say so." At this moment they arrived at the door of the inn; and she paused, expecting him to leave her; but he said: "No, I will go on with you as far as Lochgarra House. It is time I should open my lips at last. I have been patient. I have stood by. I have heard what has been going on—and I have held my tongue. And why?—because there are things that it is difficult to speak of to an unmarried young woman." Mary was a trifle bewildered. They were walking along through the village, on this quiet afternoon, with nothing to interrupt the peaceful stillness save the recurrent plash of the ripples on the beach: it was hardly the time or the place to be associated with any tragic disclosure. Moreover, had she heard aright? Was it of Donald Ross he was speaking? "And I will say this for myself," the factor continued, "that I warned ye about the character of that young man, as plainly as I dared—ay, the very first day ye set foot in the place——" "You mean Mr. Ross?" said she, lightly. "Pray spare yourself the trouble, Mr. Purdie. You forget I have had some opportunities of studying Mr. Ross’s character. I know him a little. What did you say?—that you had something to tell? Oh, no; don’t give yourself the trouble. I know him a little." "You do not know him at all!" he said, with a vehemence that startled her. "I tell ye there is not one in this place who would dare to tell ye the story; and would I, unless I was bound to do it? If there was a married woman at Lochgarra House, it’s to her I would go; and she would tell ye; but I say it is my bounden duty to speak—and to speak plainly——" "Mr. Purdie, I do not wish to hear," she said, with some touch of alarm.