‘One may be well occupied there also,’ said Miss Hersey, from the liberality of her Episcopalian point of view. ‘I did not know that he was a Presbyterian.’ ‘Neither is he,’ said Fullarton, raising his eyebrows oddly, ‘but he has lately professed to admire that form of worship.’ Miss Robertson felt that there was the suspicion of something hidden in his words, and was a little uncomfortable. She did not like the idea of anything below the surface. The two women beside her, who were more accustomed to such allusions, smiled. ‘I do not understand, sir,’ said the old lady. ‘You seem to have some other meaning.’ ‘I fancy there is another meaning to his zeal, and that it is called Cecilia Raeburn,’ said Fullarton. ‘Oh, indeed!’ exclaimed one of the ladies, putting on an arch face, ‘that is an excellent reason for going to church.’ Robert saw that Miss Hersey was annoyed by her tone. ‘I dare say he profits by what he hears as much as another,’ he said. ‘One can hardly be surprised that a young fellow should like to walk some of the way home in such attractive company. There is no harm in that, is there, Miss Robertson?’ ‘No, no,’ said Miss Hersey, reassured. ‘Mr. Crauford Fordyce has a fine property in Lanarkshire, I am told,’ said one of the ladies, who seldom took the trouble to conceal her train of thought. ‘His father has,’ replied Fullarton. Gilbert had entered quietly, and, in the babble of voices, Miss Hersey had not heard him announced. Having paid his respects to her sister, he did not disturb her, seeing she was occupied; but, for the last few minutes, he had been standing behind Fullarton in the angle of a tall screen. His face was dark. ‘Ah, Gilbert,’ exclaimed the old lady; ‘I was wondering where you could be.’ ‘Take my chair, Speid,’ said Fullarton. ‘I am sure Miss Robertson is longing to talk to you.’ ‘You are like a breath of youth,’ said Miss Hersey, as he sat down. ‘Tell me, what have you been doing since I saw you?’ Gilbert made a great effort to collect himself. The lady who had been speaking possessed an insatiable curiosity, and was bombarding Fullarton with a volley of questions about his nephew and the extent of his nephew’s intimacy at Morphie, for she was a person who considered herself privileged. ‘For one thing, I have bought a new cabriolet,’ said the young man. ‘And what is it like?’ asked Miss Hersey. Carriages and horses were things that had never entered the range of her interest, but, to her, any belonging of Gilbert’s was important. ‘It is a high one, very well hung, and painted yellow. I drive my iron-gray mare in it.’ ‘That will have a fine appearance, Gilbert.’ ‘It would please me very much to take you out, ma’am,’ said he, ‘but the step is so high that I am afraid you would find it inconvenient.’ ‘I am too old, my dear,’ said Miss Hersey, looking delighted; ‘but some day I will come to the head of the close and see you drive away.’