His instinct of what was fitting withheld him from attempting to entangle his friend in his more genial moments, in any kind of promise or consent, so long as a breath, however groundless, hung over his reputation. It was true that the Laird did not believe a syllable to his disadvantage, but on that very account he felt so deeply indebted to him, when all the world beside had turned its back, that he could not take advantage of the old man's goodwill. Whether the Laird saw more than Roderick put in words, it would not be easy to say; but it is certain that at that time an understanding sprung up between himself and his daughter which had not existed before. He had hitherto regarded her simply as a child, female child, belonging to his wife, and rather a dull one as that. It now first seemed to dawn on him that she was a woman, a distinct person, and his own daughter, and that it was in her to become the dearest companion of his life. What he may have known of her relations with her mother, incident to Roderick's letter, cannot be known, for he never told; but from the evening after the congregational council, when she plucked up courage to enter into conversation with him, and glean such news about the proceedings as she could ask or he communicate, they found they had entered upon new relations with each other. It may have been the Sangster element in her, of which her mother so loudly complained that engaged his sympathy so directly, or it may have been the incense of her feminine hero worship, seeing that he appeared to her so great, and strong, and good, in opposing himself singly to the universal prejudice, and manfully espousing the cause of worth and innocence maligned, but certainly from that day forth, father and daughter became fast friends and constant companions. Often she would accompany him in his walks to the village, and though she would not defy her mother by accompanying him to the Browns', still her father would carry messages to and fro between her and Mary, which brought assurance both to Roderick and herself that they were not parted. The old lady was the only party dissatisfied with these new combinations. She felt her authority slipping from her fingers. Her daughter had, she could not tell how, developed an independent personality of her own, and was evidently now held in allegiance to herself only by a sense of duty. The daughter was also establishing a hold on her father's regard, which her mother herself had long since allowed to pass from her, as costing too much trouble to retain; and Mrs. Sangster beheld already in prophetic vision, herself as a meek old lady seated by her work-table near the fire, while Sophia, the mistress of Auchlippie, ruled the roast! The meekness of her future rôle had not as yet, however, come to Mrs. Sangster. She fumed and fretted like a spirit in chains, and the mornings which mother and daughter spent together were by no means smooth or enjoyable for poor Sophia.