Mr Burnett suffered himself to be led back wondering greatly. He had caught a glimpse of the chauffeur, a clean-shaven, well-turned-out man, sitting back in his seat with his cap far over his eyes, and even in that hurried glance at part of his face he had been struck with something curiously familiar about the man; though whether he had seen him before, or, if not, who he reminded him of, he was quite unable to say. And then there was Mr Taylor's extraordinary change of manner the very moment he started to see the chauffeur. He could make nothing of it at all, but for some little time afterwards he had a vague sense of disquiet. Mr Taylor, on his part, had recovered his cheerfulness as quickly as he had lost it. "Forgive me, my dear Mr Burnett," he said earnestly, yet always with the rich jolly note in his voice. "I must have seemed a perfect maniac. The truth is, between ourselves, I had a terrible suspicion you were going to offer my good James whisky!" "Oh," said the minister. "Is he then--er--an abstainer?" Mr Taylor laughed pleasantly. "I wish he were! A wee drappie is his one failing; ha, ha! I never allow my chauffeur to touch a drop while I'm on the road, Mr Burnett--never, sir!" Mr Burnett was slow to suspect ill of any one, but he was just as slow in getting rid of a suspicion. With all his simplicity, he could not but think that Mr Taylor jumped extraordinarily quickly to conclusions and got excited on smaller provocation than any one he had ever met. Over his first cup of tea he sat very silent. In the meantime the sociable Mary had been suffering from a sense of disappointment. Surely the beautiful liveried figure in the car would require his tea and eggs like his master? For a little she sat awaiting his arrival in the kitchen, with her cap neatly arranged, and an expectant smile. But gradually disappointment deepened. She considered the matter judicially. Clearly, she decided, Mr Burnett had forgotten the tradition of hospitality associated with that and every other manse. And then she decided that her own duty was plain. She went out of the back door and round the house. There stood the car, with the resplendent figure leaning back in his seat, his cap still over his eyes, and his face now resting on his hand, so that she could barely see more than the tip of his nose. He heard nothing of her approach till she was fairly at his side, and in her high and penetrating voice cried-- "Will ye not be for a cup of tea and an egg to it, eh?" The chauffeur started, and Mary started too. She had seen his face for an instant, though he covered it quickly, but apparently quite naturally, with his hand. "No, thanks," he said brusquely, and turned away his eyes. Mary went back to the kitchen divided between annoyance at the rebuff and wonder. The liveried figure might have been the twin-brother of the minister. III. ON THE CLIFF.