“There’s a man there I never saw before,” she added, after a pause, “standing closer to my nephew Thomas Heriot and that old fool, Charlie, than a stranger should be. If he was a chief mourner he could not be nearer. If any of them had any sense they would see that was my Lord Largo’s place. After the near friends comes the highest rank. I wonder what Thomas can be thinking of; and I would like to know who is yon man.” “It is Mr. Fanshawe, poor Tom’s friend,” said Mrs. Murray, with a half-restrained sob, “that nursed him when he had the accident, and sent for them, and has been the kindest friend. It was him that brought Mr. Heriot down, heart-broken as he was. Marjory could never have done it without him, as I hear. Mrs. Simpson was over,” added the old lady, apologetically, afraid of seeming to know better than “a relation,” “to settle about some of the servants’ mourning, and it was from her I heard.” “Marjory could never have done it!” said Miss Jean, with some scorn. “If Marjory is at the bottom of everything, she should learn better than to make difficulties. When a woman sets up for being helpless, she can aye get help; but when she sets up for being the mainspring of everything, she has to give up such pretences. Marjory could not have done without him--He’s come to help Marjory, has he? I know what that means. For once in their lives the Heriots are going to show a little judgment and marry Marjory. In that way ye can understand yon stranger being so near.” “Oh, Miss Jean, God forgive you!” said Mrs. Murray. “Why should you judge the worst? It is nothing of the sort.” “I’ll keep my opinion, and you’ll keep yours,” said Miss Jean, grimly. “Am I blaming them? The girls that have been born Heriots have never had anything done for them. Every thing for the lads; for the lasses they took their chance. If a good man came, good and well; if it was but an indifferent man, they did what they liked--took him or not according to their fancy; as may be well seen, for all the daughters have married badly, everyone, except those that did not marry at all. Na, na, I’m not blaming them. There’s even myself; if my father and my brother had taken an interest--if they had put themselves out of their way--I might have had bairns and grandbairns of my own, and held up my head as high as any. But I was left a motherless thing to do what I liked, to refuse good offers, and act like a fool, and throw away my prospects before I knew what they meant. If Thomas Heriot is taking more thought for his girrl, it’s no’ from me that he’ll have any blame.” “Poor man!” said the Minister’s wife, “this is not a moment to expect him to take much thought.”