“Dear me, Claude! no harm, no harm, only _that_, that you are saying now--about writing fourscore. Oh, Claude, my dear, you give it far more thought than it deserves. We could have almost paid it off by this time, if it had been exacted from us. And when that good, kind, auld man said--more than saying--when he wrote down in his will--that it was to be a legacy, God bless him! when I heard that, with thanksgiving to the Lord, I just put it out of my mind--not to forget it, for it was a great deliverance--but surely not to be burdened by it, or to mistrust the good man in his grave!” The eyes of the minister’s wife filled with tears. It was she who was the preacher now, and her address was full of natural eloquence. But, like so many other eloquent addresses, her audience paid but little attention to it. Mr. Buchanan stopped short in his walk; he came back to his table and sat down facing her. When she ceased, overcome with her feelings, he began, without any pretence of sharing them, to question her hastily. “Where was Elsie, that she should hear what I said? and what did she hear? and how much does she know?” This new subject seemed to occupy his mind to the exclusion of the old. “Elsie? oh, she knows nothing. But she was in the turret there, where you encouraged them to go, Claude, though I always thought it a dangerous thing; for the parents’ discussions are not always for a bairn’s ears, and you never thought whether they were there or not. I have thought upon it many a day.” “And she knows nothing?” said Mr. Buchanan. “Well, I suppose there is no harm done; but I dislike anyone to hear what I am saying. It is inconvenient; it is disagreeable. You should keep a growing girl by your own side, Mary, and not let her stray idle round about the house.” He had not heard her complain against himself as encouraging the children to occupy the turret. His wife was well enough accustomed with his modes of thought. He ignored this altogether, as if he had no responsibility. And the thought of Elsie thus suggested put away the other and larger thought. “I should like exactly to know how much she heard, and whether she drew any conclusions. You can send her to me when you go down down-stairs.” “Claude, if you will be guided by me, no--do not put things into the bairn’s head. She will think more and more if her thoughts are driven back upon it. She will be fancying things in her mind. She will be----” “What things can she fancy in her mind? What thoughts can she have more and more, as you say? What are you attributing to me, Mary? You seem to think I have been meditating--or have done--something--I know not what--too dark for day.” He looked at her severely, and she looked at him with deprecating anxiety.