'Duty, brother! duty!' cried Mr. Geddie. 'That should be the watchword of every true soldier of the cross! Likings and dislikes will go for nothing in the eyes of true wisdom when duty calls, and _her_ ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace!' CHAPTER XXVII. _DEALING WITH A SINNER IN LOVE AND FAITHFULNESS_. The next day Roderick, having slept well, was greatly refreshed, and felt strong enough to move to his easy chair by the fire. Mary had heaped up the peat and coppice oak on the hearth, and thrown open the window till the air grew sweet and wholesome, and the clammy damps of their hovel were dissipated like the nightmares that had been oppressing his brain all through the past dreary week. 'And what can the rumours be that Sophie spoke of, Mary?' he asked. 'I really am curious to know. I suspect they have influenced more people than that absurd Duchess. That would account for the way the people have stayed away from me, which has been surprising and even distressing me a good deal. However, I am getting better now; a day or two more and I shall be out among them, and I shall find it all out. But I really feel hurt by their coldness and indifference to me.' 'Nonsense, Roddie! They are a foolish and ungrateful lot; never mind them. You must follow the doctor's advice, and go south for the winter, as soon as you are able to travel. Just look at the walls! green with damp, and the moisture trickling down the plaster; and yet this is only October! What will it be in January? It is fine weather now, and we are burning as much fuel as can be done without setting the house on fire, and it takes it all to drive the horrid mouldiness even temporarily out of the air. When winter comes and the rain is incessant out of doors, except when it snows, perhaps, for a change, the window must be kept closed, and the mouldiness and the damp will turn the place into a very cave, and, as the doctor said, after this attack a very little matter will drive you into a consumption. You must not think of it--it terrifies me, and, indeed, I am afraid even for myself. As for the people--I think they will very likely think better of you after we are gone. When your charities among them are suspended, very likely they may think more of you and them. It will serve them right, and be a warning against wagging their tattling tongues so freely for the future. Have done with them! They are a worthless set.'