‘If you had an exam. to prepare for, you wouldn’t much care whether people thought you studious or not,’ he said. ‘How is your uncle?’ asked Laura. ‘I’m sure I can’t tell.’ ‘Can’t tell! You wicked, unnatural creature! I am quite shocked at you.’ ‘He was very well when I saw him last--that is, about three months ago--with the exception of a fearfully bad temper.’ ‘Don’t you know that it is highly unbecoming of you to speak of anyone older than yourself in that disrespectful way?’ But Laura’s look hardly seconded her words; and Alec went on: ‘It is quite true, though. I wonder Aunt Jean can put up with him.’ ‘Who is Aunt Jean? Miss Lindsay? The lady who lives with your uncle and keeps house for him?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘She is a relation of your uncle’s, isn’t she?’ ‘Oh yes; a cousin in some degree or other.’ ‘Mr. Lindsay never married, I believe,’ said Miss Mowbray. ‘No; he has no relations nearer than’--‘nearer than I am,’ he was going to have said; but he stopped and substituted--‘nearer than nephews and nieces.’ ‘And he has plenty of them, I suppose? All Scotch people seem to have so many relations; it is quite bewildering.’ ‘Uncle James is my father’s uncle, you understand,’ said Alec; ‘and there are only two in our family, my sister and I; that is not so very many.’ ‘No. But have you really a sister?’ exclaimed Laura, turning round so as to face her companion for an instant. ‘Yes, one sister: Margaret.’ ‘How lucky you are! I have no brothers or sisters; I have only my uncle. How I wish I knew your sister! And Margaret is such a pretty name.’ ‘It is common enough, anyway.’ ‘But not commonplace; oh! not at all commonplace. If I had a sister I would call her Margaret, whatever her real name might be. By the way, have you seen Mr. Semple since that night of the dinner-party?’ ‘No.’ ‘And you don’t seem very sorry for it?’ said the girl, with a little smile. ‘No; I can’t say I care much for Cousin James.’ ‘_He_ is a relation of Mr. Lindsay, too, isn’t he?’ ‘Yes; his mother was a Lindsay, a niece of my grand-uncle’s. He is in the oil-works; and I dare say he will become manager of them some day.’ Miss Mowbray was silent for a few moments; then she stopped and hesitated. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I ought to allow you to walk with me in this way. Suppose we were to meet anyone we knew!’ Alec flushed to the roots of his hair. ‘I beg your pardon!’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh, I don’t mind; but--Mrs. Grundy, you know.’ ‘Do you know that you can see Ben Lomond from the top of the hill?’ said Alec, suddenly changing the subject. ‘No; _really_?’ ‘Yes; won’t you let me show it to you? It’s a beautiful view, and only a few steps off.’ Miss Mowbray seemed to forget her scruples, for she allowed herself to be led up a narrow winding path, fringed with young trees, which led to the top of the rising ground.