had spoken from the highest
motives. But he sighed when he thought how much better Duncan Polite
would have dealt with the situation. Wee Andra was the only one who
was quite at his ease; he seemed to realise that this pastoral
visitation was something less rigid than former affairs of the sort,
and chewed a straw with unconscious impudence. Mrs. Johnstone talked a
little, but nervously and in an absent-minded manner, fearing that
every word she uttered was keeping the minister from giving voice to
the solemn truths he was waiting to pour forth. Janet sat on the
extreme edge of the sofa, her hands folded, her golden head drooping
and the unhappy young pastor sat at the other end and made desperate
efforts to raise the social atmosphere.

He spoke kindly to Kirsty, a tall, fine-looking girl, very much more
composed than the daughter of the house; and he asked Jimmie Bailey
about the calves and the lambs, wondering all the while at the
oppressive silence. Then he turned to Janet and tried to open up a
conversation with her. He had noticed that the stern visage of the
ruling elder relaxed almost into tenderness whenever his eye fell upon
his daughter and the wily young man guessed that he might reach the
father's heart through her. He inquired if Janet played the organ,
and, learning that she did, he requested her to favour them with some
music.

"Go on, Jinny," said her brother with suspicious heartiness, "give us a
rousin' old jig."

Janet glanced at her mother in alarm. To play the organ when the
minister was making a pastoral call was surely not to be thought of.
But her mother nodded, as Mr. Egerton insisted, and the girl went
reluctantly forward, feeling as if she were guilty of sacrilege. She
stumbled awkwardly through a loud, noisy march, which made the visitor
want to grind his teeth, and as she finished Wee Andra came to life
again.

"Won't you sing something, Mr. Egerton?" he asked cordially. "He can
sing jist boss, father; you ought to hear him."

Old Andrew drew in a deep breath, but made no reply. The minister
demurred at first, but finally yielded. If there was anything in the
old adage that "music hath charms," he told himself grimly that now was
the time to put it to the test. He took up a hymn book and selected a
hymn Janet could play. The leader of the Methodist Choir condescended
to flop down noisily from his oblique position and join him. Janet's
sweet, timid voice made a pleasan