"What can be better?" I answered. "You have such charming ideas!" replied Cecilia. She put in another word, which I never heard before, and I don't know what it means. She brought it with her from the South, I suppose. Unso--unsophy--no, unsophisticated--I think that was it. It sounded uncommon long and fine, I know. "I suppose Scotch ministers have not much money?" continued Cecilia. "I don't know--I think not," I answered. "But I rather fancy my Uncle Drummond has a little of his own." Cecilia darted another look at me, and then dropped her eyes as if she were studying the grass. "And Mr Keith?" she said presently, "is he a relation?" "I don't know much about him," said I, "only what I have heard Flora say. He is no relation of theirs, I believe. I think he is the squire's son." "The squire's son!" cried Cecilia, in a more interested tone. "And who is the squire?--is he rich?--where is the place?" "As to who he is," said I, "he is Mr Keith, I suppose. I don't know a bit whether he is rich or poor. I forget the name of the place--I think it is Abbotsmuir, or something like that. Either an abbot or a monk has something to do with it." "And you don't know if Mr Keith is a rich man?" said Cecilia, I thought in rather a disappointed tone. "No, I don't," said I. "I can ask Flora, if you want to know." "Not for the world!" cried Cecilia, laying her hand again on mine. "Don't on any account let Miss Drummond know that I asked you such a question. If you like to ask from yourself, you know--well, that is another matter; but not from me, on any consideration." "I don't understand you, Miss Osborne," said I. "No, you dear little thing, I believe you don't understand me," said Cecilia, kissing me. "What pretty hair you have, and how nice you keep it, to be sure!--so smooth and glossy! Come, had we not better be going down, do you think?" So down we came, and found dinner ready; and I do not think I ever thought of it again till I was going to bed. Then I said to Flora,--"Do you like Cecilia Osborne?" "I--think we had better not talk about people, Cary, if you please." But there was such a pause where I have drawn that long stroke, that I am sure that was not what she intended to say at first. "Then you don't," said I, making a hit at the truth, and, I think, hitting it in the bull's eye. "Well, no more do I." Flora looked at me, but did not speak. Oh, how different her look is from Cecilia's sudden flashes! "She has been trying to pump me, I am sure, about you and Angus, and Mr Keith," said I; "and I think it is quite as well I knew so little." "What about?" said Flora. "Oh, about money, mostly," said I. "Whether Uncle had much money, and if Mr Keith was a rich man, and all on like that. I can't bear girls who are always thinking about money."