Roderick lay and listened. The free and friendly tone did not look as if his suit had been received unfavourably, and yet it was alluded to in no way whatever. He gathered courage at last to enquire for Sophia, and was answered that she was laid up with a severe cold, but the manner of the reply was the most simple and ordinary, and showed no sign of an idea that more could be meant by the enquirer than met the ear. Roderick inferred that the old man was favourable to his suit, and that the young lady was taking time to make up her mind. For the moment, therefore, his hopes rose, his mind grew easier, his body more at rest, and he spent a calmer evening and night than the preceding. On Monday morning he was very hopeful. She had had a long Sunday undisturbed by the possibility of doing anything else, for it had rained steadily, to reflect on his petition, and she must surely return him an answer to-day. Neither message, letter, or visitor appeared, however. 'Ah well,' he concluded at last, 'her father will no doubt bring it with him in the evening, when he comes to be present at the meeting of Session.' The evening came. Roderick's study had been transferred as far as possible into a fitting meeting-place. The screen which closed off his sleeping corner from the room was removed, the writing table and books moved aside as well as might be, and a dozen chairs or more arranged in front of his bed. The clock over the fireplace marked the quarter to seven, but no one came. It seemed strange that all that day no one should have come to see him. He had lived in the completest harmony with his people, and when in health had had some one always dropping in for a 'crack,' so that it had often been difficult for him to secure the privacy necessary to prepare his sermons. The sudden change was altogether inexplicable to him. Every one seemed to stand aloof, and he seemed to be put under a taboo by the entire population of the glen. Mary went to the window. No one appeared to be coming, she then went to the door, but the village street was deserted save by a few grimy children tumbling in the gutter. Looking across the road, however, where a lane ran down to the waterside, she descried one or two figures standing. They stood well up to the wall of a house and were nearly hidden from where she stood. Indeed she would have supposed they were actually hiding themselves there and watching, but that she could imagine no possible reason for such a proceeding.