“When I called on him with Harry in July--I would not say, in presence of ladies, what my impulse was,” said Gilbert, lifting his large bony hand, and displaying his ringed finger in relief against the black brushwood about his chin. “He looked at me with a malice which disgusted me. I suppose he thought I was in his way,” added Mr. Gilbert, complacently, bestowing upon Rose, who had just turned her head, roused and defiant, a most emphatic look of admiration. And Harry laughed: Rose turned her eyes to him slowly, and felt her heart burn--that Harry should think so meanly of her as to fancy Gilbert Allenders could stand in Cuthbert’s way! “But when Mr. Charteris looks at you, Rosie,” whispered Violet, “his lip aye moves, and the lid comes over his eye. Last time, he looked as if he could greet: what was that for, Rose?” But Rose made no reply. There were, as Gilbert prophesied, great preparations in Allenders for Harry’s departure, and various purchases made, that Harry’s appearance away from home might be worthy the station which his little wife thought so exalted. None of them were quite prepared for the total insignificance which always falls upon a solitary visitor to London; and when Gilbert, putting up his own little carpet-bag, took occasion to remark, sneeringly, upon the great, new, shining portmanteau which Harry carried, neither himself nor Agnes, who had come to Stirling to see him away, were angry. They said “Poor Gilbert!” in a sympathetic look, and compassionated him, who had neither rank to maintain, nor a little wife to help him to maintain it; and when Agnes, as she went away, casting wistful looks behind her at Harry, caught a glimpse of Gilbert’s great, sallow, unwholesome face, surmounted by its little travelling-cap, and encircled by its coarse, wiry hair, she could almost have been bold enough to turn back, and follow Harry. She contrasted them in her mind a hundred times, during her melancholy drive home, and had many a dreary thought about temptation, and evil company, and Harry “led away.” Poor Harry! he was always “led away;” for not one of his anxious watchers, could prevail with herself to speak of his errors in harder words than these.