Marjory felt she could well believe it, palpably unjust though such immunity might be, as she watched the laird give back the fervid greeting of the Reverend James Gillespie, who followed close on the tray of cake and wine. "My dear sir; welcome to the Glen," cried the young clergyman. "I have been up at the Big House, and, hearing you were at the Lodge, ventured to follow you. As parish clergyman----" "'Deed no! Gillespie," put in Mrs. Cameron, sharply. "I did not say minister, my dear Madam," retorted the Reverend James with uncommon spirit; "I said clergyman; and considering that the lairds of Gleneira have ever clung loyally to the Church." Here something in the old lady's face made him, as it were, climb down again. "Well, let us say parish priest." "'Deed no, again," interrupted the good lady, with a grim smile. "What would Father Macdonald be saying?" The Reverend Mr. Gillespie climbed down still further for the sake of peace, though the vexed question of effectual orders was a favourite hunting-ground of the Bishop's. "As a native of Gleneira, deeply interested in the spiritual and moral welfare of its inhabitants, allow me to express my sincere pleasure in your return. Believe me, Gleneira, the people welcome you to their midst." "It is really awfully kind of you all, when I have been such a shocking ne'er-do-weel absentee. I assure you, Miss Carmichael, that the number of times I've had to drink my own health in raw whiskey this morning is incredible; enough to ruin it for the next year." The Reverend James put on his most professional air. "Too true. As the Bishop says, whiskey is indeed the bane----" "Hoot, no!" interrupted Mrs. Cameron from the cake and wine; "good whiskey ne'er harmed a good man. It is just the idle, feckless bodies getting drunken that gives it a bad name." "But that is just the point, my dear lady," expostulated the young man, feeling sure of his ground. "It is for the sake of the weaker brother." "Havers!" began Mrs. Cameron; but the Reverend James was firm, and quoted the text. "Aye, aye!" continued the old lady, "I ken where it comes from fine, more's the pity, for I don't hold wi' it. It's just a premium on being a poor body, and is the clear ruination o' this world whatever it may be of the next. Gie me a useless, through--other man or woman, and hey! it's a weaker brother an' maun' be cockered up." She showed so much animation that her opponent retired from the contest discreetly by turning to the laird and beginning on a stock subject. "I am sorry to say, Gleneira, that despite my own efforts, and the Bishop's earnest desire for the erection of a church, matters remain much as they were, when you were here last. That is to say, service has still to be conducted in the school-house, which, er--in addition to other illegitimate uses"--he glanced casually at his old enemy at this point--"also serves as a post-office; a plan which has great and undeniable inconvenience."