‘Tut, tut, tut, tut!’ he said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. ‘My only comfort is that she promised to say nothing to Miss Raeburn; I sincerely trust she may keep her word. I am almost afraid she may write to my mother, and I really do not know what might happen if she did. That is what I dread, and she is capable of it.’ ‘She is an old termagant,’ said the other. ‘But what am I to do? What can I do?’ There was a silence in which the two men sat without speaking a word. Barclay crossed his knees, and clasped his hands round them; Fordyce’s eyes rested earnestly upon his complacent face. ‘I suppose you know that she used to set her cap at your uncle years ago?’ said the lawyer at last. ‘I knew they were old friends.’ ‘You must persuade him to go and put everything straight. He can if he likes; she will keep quiet if he tells her to do so, trust her for that. That’s my advice, and you will never get better.’ Fordyce’s face lightened; he had so lost his sense of the proportion of things that this most obvious solution had not occurred to him. ‘It seems so simple now that you have suggested it,’ he said. ‘I might have thought of that for myself.’ ‘What did I tell you about the two heads, eh?’ ‘Then you really think that my uncle can make it smooth?’ ‘I am perfectly sure of it. Will you take another hint from a well-wisher, Mr. Fordyce?’ ‘Of course, I shall be grateful!’ ‘Well, do not let the grass grow under your feet, for Speid is looking that way too, if I am not mistaken.’ Crauford made a sound of impatience. Barclay leaned forward, his eyes keen with interest. ‘Then you don’t like him?’ he said. ‘Oh, I scarcely know him,’ replied Fordyce, a look that delighted the lawyer coming into his face. ‘He is one of those who will know you one day and look over your head the next. It would be a shame if you were set aside for a conceited coxcomb of a fellow like that--a sulky brute too, I believe. I hate him.’ ‘So do I,’ exclaimed Crauford, suddenly and vehemently. Barclay wondered whether his companion had any idea of the tissue of rumours hanging round Gilbert, but he did not, just then, give voice to the question. It was a subject which he thought it best to keep until another time. Fullarton might return at any minute and he would be interrupted. The friendly relations which he determined to establish between himself and Fordyce would afford plenty of opportunity. If he failed to establish them, it would be a piece of folly so great as to merit reward from a just Providence. All he could do was to blow on Crauford’s jealousy--an inflammable thing, he suspected--with any bellows that came to his hand. Speid should not have Cecilia while he was there to cheer him on. ‘You should get Mr. Fullarton to go to Morphie to-morrow, or even this afternoon; my business with him will not take long, and I shall make a point of going home early and leaving you free.’