Crauford laid down the sheet of paper; he was not apt to seize on hidden things, but the little touch of nature which cropped up, like a daisy from a rubbish-heap, in the end of his father’s letter gave him sympathy to imagine what the atmosphere of Fordyce Castle must have been when it was written. He respected his mother, not by nature, but from habit, and the experiences he had sometimes undergone had never shaken his feelings, but only produced a sort of distressed bewilderment. He was almost bewildered now. He turned again to Sir Thomas’s letter, and re-read it for comfort. The enclosure he had found from his sister was much shorter. ‘MY DEAR BROTHER, ‘Mary and I wish to send you our very kind love, and we hope that you will be happy. Is Miss Raeburn dark or fair? We hope she is fond of tambour-work. We have some new patterns from Edinburgh which are very pretty. We shall be very glad when you return. Our mother is not very well. There is no interesting news. Mrs. Fitz-Allen is to give a fête-champêtre with illuminations next week, but we do not know whether we shall be allowed to go as she behaved _most unbecomingly_ to our mother, trying to take precedence of her at the prize-giving in the Lanark flower show. Lady Maria Milwright is coming to visit us in September. We shall be very pleased. ‘Your affectionate sister, ‘AGNETA FORDYCE.’ Fullarton’s good-humour was quite restored as uncle and nephew paced up and down the twilit avenue that evening. A long silence followed the announcement which the young man had just made. ‘Do you think I am doing wisely, sir?’ he said at last. Fullarton smiled faintly before he replied; Crauford sometimes amused him. ‘In proposing to Cecilia? One can hardly tell,’ he replied; ‘that is a thing that remains to be seen.’ Perplexity was written in Crauford’s face. ‘But surely--surely--’ he began, ‘have you not a very high opinion of Miss Raeburn?’ ‘The highest,’ said the other dryly. ‘But then----’ ‘What I mean is, do you care enough to court a possible rebuff? You are not doing wisely if you don’t consider that. I say, a _possible_ rebuff,’ continued his uncle. ‘Then you think she will refuse me?’ ‘Heaven knows,’ responded Robert. ‘I can only tell you that to-day, when Miss Robertson inquired where you were, and I said that you were walking home from Morphie kirk with Cecilia, Speid was standing by looking as black as thunder.’ To those whose ill-fortune it is never to have been crossed in anything, a rival is another name for a rogue. Fordyce felt vindictive; he breathed heavily. ‘Do you think that Miss Raeburn is likely to--notice Speid?’ Robert’s mouth twitched. ‘It is difficult not to notice Gilbert Speid,’ he replied. ‘I really fail to see why everyone seems so much attracted by him.’ ‘I am not sure that he attracts me,’ said the elder man. ‘He looks extremely ill-tempered--most unlikely to please a young lady.’