At the other end of the table a conversation of another character was in progress--one hardly less interesting to those who took part in it, and hardly more interesting to an outsider. It seemed that a wealthy congregation of United Presbyterians had built themselves an organ at considerable expense, without obtaining the sanction of their co-religionists; and an edict had gone forth that the organ must be silent on Sundays, but might be used for the delectation of those who attended the prayer-meeting on Wednesday evenings. ‘I look upon it as the thin end of the wedge,’ said the Reverend Hector MacTavish, D.D., striking his fist on his knee. ‘You begin with hymns, many of them wish-washy trash, some of them positively unscriptural. Then you must have a choir for the tunes, as if the old-fashioned long metre and common metre were not good enough; then comes an organ; then the Lord’s Prayer is used as a part of the ritual--mark you, as a part of the ritual--I have no objection to the Lord’s Prayer when it is not used on formal, stated occasions. After that, you have a liturgy.’ ‘No, no, Doctor; you are going too fast,’ murmured one of the audience. ‘And I maintain that with a liturgy there is an end to the distinctively Presbyterian form of worship.’ ‘But where would you draw the line?’ inquired a mild, sallow-faced young man who had imbibed his theological opinions at Heidelberg, and was in consequence suspected of latitudinarianism, if not of actual heresy. ‘Where our fathers drew it, at the Psalms of Tavid!’ thundered Mr. MacTavish, striking his unoffending knee once more. ‘Then I fear you render Union impossible,’ said the young minister. ‘And what if I do, sir?’ said Dr. MacTavish loftily; ‘in my opinion we Free Churchmen are ferry well as we are, and need no new lights to illuminate us.’ The young man received the covert sneer at his German training and his liberal ideas with a smile; and Alec listened no longer, but relapsed into dreamland. The dispute, however, continued long after most of the men had returned to the drawing-room, and Alec rose from his chair while an animated discussion was in progress on the point whether the use of an organ was favourable to spiritual worship or tended to sensuousness, and whether the fact that the New Testament was silent on the subject, condemned the organ and its followers by anticipation. When Alec entered the drawing-room, Miss Mowbray was singing. He retreated to a corner and stood as one spell-bound. He watched for an opportunity of speaking to her again, but there was none; however, on passing him on her way to the door on her uncle’s arm, she gave him a little bow and smile, which he regarded as another proof of her sweetness of disposition. The theologians had not finished their disputations, and were continuing them in a corner of the drawing-room, when Alec took his departure.