“Oh,” said Miss Eliza, “Mr. Dean knows well what I think. There’s no man I like so well to hear, but his views are whiles very papistical. He would just like to be the bishop and more. He’s no sound for Presbytery. He would like vestments and that kind of thing, and incense, perhaps, for anything I can tell. I would not wonder but he would put on a white surplice, if that is what they call it, if he could get one over his decent black gown.” “I was an Episcopalian before I married Mr. Wedderburn,” said the fat lady. “I do not regret it, for Mr. Dean knows we are all uncommonly well pleased with him. And a surplice would become him very well.” “It’s a very becoming thing,” said another of the ladies. “We’re very glad to come to hear Mr. Dean, but we’re all Episcopalians when we’re at home.” “It’s the fashion,” said Mrs. Wedderburn, folding her fat hands. “I’ve no desire to enter into that question. I’m saying nothing but that the minister is no very sound on certain points. I’ve said it to his face, and he just laughs, as you see. But, bless me! this conversation has wandered far from where it began, for I was asking Mr. Rowland, in the interests of all the nieces and the nephews, whether he had not, as we’ve been informed, some young folk.” Rowland had dropped out of the talk a little, and had forgotten that he was being cross-examined. He woke up suddenly at this question with a start. The lingering smile disappeared from his mouth. He put up shutters at all his windows, so to speak. The light went out in his eyes. “Yes,” he said in a voice which he felt to be as dull as his countenance was blank; “I have a son and a daughter.” “That was just what I heard,” said Miss Eliza with triumph. “We have usually some young folk staying with us up at the Burn. My sister and me, we are overrun with nieces and nephews. It’s just a plague. There is scarcely a boat but brings one at the least. I hope your two will come and see them. There is aye something going on; a game at that tennis, or whatever they call it, or a party on the water, or a climb up the hills. If they will just not stand upon ceremony, but come any day----” “When they are here,” said Rowland stolidly; “as yet they are not here. The house will not be ready for a week or more.” “Oh, I beg your pardon. We thought--there were so many waggons coming and going, and the dog-cart out at the pier.” “I hope you don’t think,” he said, “that I would take home my wife either in a waggon or a dog-cart?”