Arthur Townshend found himself shaking hands with the president of the Fellowship Meeting, who said "Pleased to meet you," in the most friendly way, and proceeded to go round the room shaking hands warmly with everyone. "Sit down and have some lunch," said Mr. Seton. "Thank you, Mr. Seton, no. I just brought in Miss Seton's tracts." He did not go away, however, nor did he sit down, and Arthur Townshend found it very difficult to go on with his luncheon with this gentleman standing close beside him; no one else seemed to mind, but went on eating calmly. "A good meeting this morning," said Mr. Seton. "Very nice, Mr. Seton. Pleasant to see the younger members coming forward as, I think, you observed in your remarks." "Quite so," said Mr. Seton. "How is your aunt?" Elizabeth asked him. "Poorly, Miss Seton; indeed I may say very poorly. She has been greatly tried by neuralgia these last few days." "I'm so sorry. I hope to look in to see her one day this week." "Do so, Miss Seton; a visit from you will cheer Aunt Isa, I know. By the way, Miss Seton, I would like to discuss our coming Social Evening with you, if I may." "Yes. Would Thursday evening suit you?" "No, Miss Seton. I'm invited to a cup of tea on the Temperance Question on Thursday." "I see. Well, Saturday?" "That would do nicely. What hour is most convenient, Miss Seton?" "Eight--eight-thirty; just whenever you can come." "Thank you, Miss Seton. Good morning. Good morning, Mr. Seton." He again went round the room, shaking hands with everyone, and withdrew. "Did you recognize the chairman of the Fellowship Meeting?" Elizabeth asked Arthur Townshend. "Isn't he a genteel young man?" "He has very courtly manners," said Arthur. "Yes; and his accent is wonderful, too. He hardly ever falls through it. I only once remember him forgetting himself. He was addressing the Young Women's Bible Class on Jezebel, and he got so worked up he cried, 'Oh, girrls, girrls, Jezebel was a bad yin, girrls.' I wonder why he didn't talk about the Social here and now? He will come trailing up to the house on Saturday and put off quite two hours." "My dear," said her father, "don't grudge the time, if it gives him any pleasure. Remember what a narrow life he has, and be thankful little things count for so much to him. To my mind, Hugh M'Auslin is doing a very big thing, and the fine thing about him is that he doesn't see it." "But, Father, what is he doing?" "Is it a small thing, Lizbeth, for a young man to give up the best years of his life to a helpless invalid? Mr. M'Auslin," Mr. Seton explained to Arthur Townshend, "supports an old aunt who cared for him in his boyhood. She is quite an invalid and very cantankerous, though, I believe, a good woman. And--remember this, you mocking people, when you talk of courtly manners--his manners are just as 'courtly' when his old aunt upbraids him for not spending every minute of his sparse spare time at her bedside."