The first arrival was a sister of Mrs Whyte’s, a widow lady resident at Fendie. She was a querulous person, constitutionally inclined to look at the dark side of everything, a perfect contrast to the happier temper of her sister, but withal not destitute of a kindred kindliness. Only the youthful people patronized by Mrs Gray, were sedulously tutored into a melancholy certainty of the inevitable miseries of the world. She tried, good gloomy woman, to charge the natural atmosphere of hope with the vapoury fears in which she herself found a certain sombre satisfaction, and now and then she was temporarily successful. The drawing-room was not very much crowded. Besides these, there were only Lilias, Halbert, Helen, and the banker Oswald and his wife. The last two were invited by Mr Insches for some unexplained reason. They were certainly his very good friends, but that was not the cause; he had many good friends in Fendie quite as eligible; but the Reverend Robert had once or twice encountered William in the immediate vicinity of Mrs Buchanan’s house, and had an idea that his rival, like himself, was kept back by scruples of pride, or by consideration of what “the world” would say. Consequently, William’s parents were invited to-night to show them that the step was taken, that the dignified youthful minister had made up his mind, and that Helen was about to be elevated to the lofty position of Mistress of the Manse. Helen herself, who had come with some reluctance, felt already uncomfortably hampered by her host’s attentions; there was a slight ostentation in them--a certain consciousness of derogation on his own part, and fear for her, lest the exaltation should dazzle her. Helen kept closely by the side of Lilias, amused, afraid, and suspecting some design upon her. Mrs Oswald seated herself beside the young friends. The banker kept apart, struggling very vainly against the curiosity which turned his eyes towards this group; he began to feel an interest in watching the colour fluctuate and change on Helen’s cheek, and to understand the half-suppressed, impatient motion and altered attitude, which testified some annoyance under those elaborate courtesies of Robert Insches. Mr Oswald was sadly inconsistent; he had a certain satisfaction in perceiving that these courtesies did not seem particularly acceptable to Helen. “My dear,” said the plaintive Mrs Gray, addressing Lilias, “I am glad to see you looking so much stronger: but perhaps you are flushed--just a little flushed to-night; you must be very careful as you go home that you don’t take cold.” “I heard Mrs Mense making a great provision of cloaks for my home-going,” said Lilias, smiling; “they are too careful of me, Mrs Gray. I shall not take cold if my good friends can guard me from it.”