"I’m sure, Mrs. Mercer," he said, "I’m real sorry about the hale business; and I’m resolved, if possible, to get Adam oot o’ the han’s o’ the Session, and bring peace atween a’ parties." Katie shook her foot, twirled her thumbs, but said nothing. "It’s a pity indeed," the elder continued, "that a _bird_ should come atween an office-bearer like Adam and his minister and the Session! It’s no richt--it’s no richt; and yet neither you nor Adam could pit it awa, e’en at the request o’ the Session, wi’ yer ain haun’s. Na, na--that _was_ askin’ ower muckle." "Ye ken best, nae doot," said Katie, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice. "You and the Session hae made a bonnie job o’ the guidman noo!" "I’m real vexed he’s no’ weel," said Menzies; "but to be candid, Mrs. Mercer, it wasna a’ the faut o’ the Session at the warst, but pairtly his ain. He was ower stiff, and was neither to haud nor bin’." "A bairn could haud him noo, and bin’ him tae," said Katie. "There’s a chasteesement in ’t," remarked Menzies, becoming slightly annoyed at Katie’s cool reception of him. "He should hear the voice in the rod. Afflictions dinna come wi’oot a reason. They spring not from the grun’. They’re sent for a purpose; and ye should examine and search yer heart, Mrs. Mercer, in a’ sincerity and humility, to ken _why_ this affliction has come, and _at this time_," emphatically added Mr. Menzies. "Nae doot," said Katie, returning to the hem of her apron. The way seemed marvellously opened to Mr. Menzies, as he thought he saw Katie humbled and alive to the Sergeant’s greater share of wrong in causing the schism. He began to feel the starling in his hand,--a fact of which the bird seemed ignorant, as he whistled, "Wha’ll be king but Charlie?" Mr. Menzies continued--"If I could be ony help to ye, Mrs. Mercer, I wad be prood and thankfu’ to bring aboot freen’ship atween Adam and Mr. Porteous; and thus gie peace to puir Adam." "Peace tae Adam?" exclaimed Katie, looking up to the elder’s face. "Ay, peace tae Adam," said Mr. Menzies, encouraged to open up his plan; "but, I fear, as lang as that bird is in the cage, peace wull never be." Katie dropped her apron, and stared at Mr. Menzies as if she was petrified, and asked what he meant. "Dinna think, dinna think," said Mr. Menzies, "that I propose killin’ the bit thing"--Katie dropped her eyes again on her apron--"but," he continued, "I canna see what hairm it wad do, and I think it wad do a hantle o’ guid, if ye wad let me tak’ oot the cage, and let the bird flee awa’ tae sing wi’ the lave o’ birds. In this way, ye see----"