'Undoubtedly, but did you not say just now that you expected him to visit you at Inchbracken very shortly? Might it not be well to wait till then before saying anything to him whatever? It could then be mentioned to him carefully and gradually. Any clothing of the child that he might perhaps recognize, or even the child itself might be shown him, and then its story could be told. That would spare him the misery of suspense, and the possibility of disappointment; whereas if you write, the man will order post horses at once, and set out to investigate your story. Think of his impatience and suspense as he sits in the post chaise, thinking and thinking about it till he grows giddy. It will be twenty-four or perhaps thirty-six hours from the time he gets your letter till he can reach Glen Effick. He may fret himself into a fever in that time. You say he has been ill already, and he will be sure of a relapse if the child turns out not to be his.' 'I believe you are right, Mr. Sangster. I will merely write and urge him to come as early as possible. The season for shooting and visitors is about over, and he may be as quiet as he likes.' 'And are you really going to leave us, Mr. Roderick? asked the Laird. 'I remarked your saying so to Mr. Geddie, and was really tickled at his unwillingness to let you go away, even while he would not let you stay in the Church. That man would have made a fine grand inquisitor if he had been born in a Catholic country.' Roderick smiled, and answered in a low voice--'He is a good man, and very zealous. But it is quite true. If he had lived two centuries ago he would have wanted to burn every one who saw things differently from himself, and he would have thought he did God service in burning them. He thinks if he is right every body who differs from him must be wrong. He does not comprehend toleration, and he has no common sense. As my father would have said--"he wants a wife!" if only to teach him that there is a world of daily providence and common things, as well as the world of doctrines and theologies he lives in. But he is a worthy creature!' 'Yes!' he continued, still almost in a whisper. 'We shall go south--Ventnor or Torquay--for the winter. I shall write to enquire at once; but I am not fleeing from discipline, Mr. Sangster! I shall appoint an agent to protect my interests before the Presbytery.' 'Then,' said Mary, 'might we not stop over in Edinburgh, and show Major Steele the baby?' 'I did not propose to take it with us. Supposing Major Steele is unable to recognise it, it would have to come back here and raise more talk; and I fear we should not know what to do with it during our travels if we carried it south, so I think we shall have to leave it here with Eppie for the winter.' The tears stood in Mary's eyes. 'Oh, Roderick,' she said, 'I shall be so sorry to part with it.' 'Could you not remain too, Mary?' whispered Kenneth.