athe a word against his father in his presence,
Splinterin' Andra's son would soon have shown himself worthy of his
sire's appellation; nevertheless, partly from love of fun and partly
through a good-natured stupidity, he proved a veritable thorn in the
flesh to his unhappy father. So old Andrew was looking forward to the
visit of his pastor with the hope that his example and admonition would
have a steadying effect upon his frivolous son. Like Duncan Polite,
the elder looked upon the young minister as the deliverer of the people
of Glenoro church from the spirit of worldliness which he felt
characterised them. So, when his daughter came to summon him to the
house to put on a coat and collar, as the minister had been sighted on
the road not half a mile away, he hurried in with great alacrity to
greet his visitor.

Tea at Elder Johnstone's was no light ceremony under any circumstances.
His was not a place where people went for relaxation and jollity,
except on the rare occasions when the old folks were away and Wee Andra
held sway. The young minister, anxious to please and be friendly, felt
from the moment he opened the gate and went up the path, where neat
beds of onions and cabbages encroached upon the very doorstep, that it
was going to be something of an ordeal.

His opinion did not alter when he found himself seated at the
well-laden table in the big spotless dining room. He could not help
contrasting the stiff formality with the ease and gaiety of the
Hamilton household. Old Andrew sat, stern and dignified, at the head
of the table. Ordinarily he was talkative, but on this evening he
restrained himself, for a gentleman of the old school did not consider
it good manners to talk too much in the presence of so superior a
person as the minister. At the other end of the table Mrs. Johnstone,
red-faced and anxious, bustled nervously with the new china cups and
saucers. Beside the minister sat Janet, the only daughter, a fair, shy
girl of sixteen, afraid to look up, and the son of the house sat
opposite in his shirtsleeves responding to Mr. Egerton's friendly
advances with monosyllabic answers, a puzzling contrast to his
uproarious geniality at their former meetings. Of course, John Egerton
could not guess that the young man was holding down his laughter by
superhuman efforts and could not afford to waste any strength upon
conversation.

There was a very depressing atmosphere over the whole table, but the
vi