“Ay, ay,” said the minister, “we had heard something, but did not know it was so bad as that. But it will be a thing that will pass by; just some chill she has got out on the moor, or some other bit small matter. She has been very well and blooming, a fine young creature all the time we have had her here.” “I am by no means sure,” said Sir Robert, with a cloud on his brow, “that I did not make a mistake in sending her here. I had no intention to send her into a desert. My mind was full of the old times, when we were cheerful enough, as you will remember, Blythe, whatever else we might be. There was not much money going--nor perhaps luxury--but there was plenty of company. However, I’m glad you have so good a report to give of her. She’s neither well nor blooming, poor lassie, now.” The minister cleared his throat two or three times, as if he found it difficult to resume. “Sir Robert,” he said, and then made a pause, “I am not a man that likes to interfere. I have as little liking for that part as you or any man could have--to be meddled with in what you will think your own affairs.” Sir Robert stiffened visibly, uplifting his throat in the stiff stock, which, in his easiest moment, seemed to hold him within risk of strangulation. “I fail to see,” he said, “what there is in my affairs that would warrant interference from you or any man; but if you’ve got any thing to say, say it out.” “I meddle with nobody,” said the minister as proudly, “unless it is for the young of the flock. I can scarcely call you one of my flock, Sir Robert.” “A grewsome auld tup at the best, you’ll be thinking,” said Sir Robert, with a harsh laugh. “Man!” said the minister, “at the least of it we are old friends. We know each other’s mettle; if we quarrel, it’ll do little good or harm to any body. And if you like to fling off in a fit, you must just do it. What I’ve got to say is just this: Women folk are hard to manage for them that are not used to them. I’ve not just come as well out of it as I would have liked myself; and that little thing up at Dalrugas is a tender bit creature. She has blossomed like the flowers when she has been let alone, and never lost heart, though she has had many a dull day. Do not cross the lassie above what she is able to bear. If you’re still against the man she likes herself, for the love of God, Robert Ramsay, force no other upon her, as you hope to be saved!” The old minister was considerably moved, but this did not perhaps express itself in the most dignified way. What with the fervor of his mind, and the heat of the fire, and the little unusual exertion, the perspiration stood in great drops on his brow. “This is a very remarkable appeal, Blythe,” said Sir Robert. “_I_ force another man upon her! Granted there is one she likes herself, as you seem so sure--though I admit nothing of my own knowledge--am I a man to force a husband down any woman’s throat?”