trying moments has often
surprised me--but, like all the young of the human species, there are
times when their feelings become too much for them. Then, if the
occasion is too formal for unrestrained shrieks, they silently
interdigitate.)

"That is a Scottish expression," said Robin, smiling upon us. "You must
pardon me, Mrs Inglethwaite. I should perhaps have said that I was an
adherent of Dr Strang's church--or rather," he added with a curious
little touch of pride, "I am a communicant now. I was just an adherent
at first."

We assented to this, politely but dizzily.

Scratch a Scot and you will find a theologian. Robin was fairly started
now; and he proceeded to enlarge upon various points of interest in the
parallel histories (given in full) of some three or four Scottish
denominations, interwoven with extracts from his own family archives.
His grand-uncle, it appeared, had been a minister himself, and had
performed the feat--to which I have occasionally heard other perfervid
Scots refer, and never without a kindling eye--known as "coming out in
the Forty-three."

"That," added Robin in parenthesis, "is why my second name is
Chalmers--after the great Doctor. You will have heard of him?"

(Polite but insincere chorus of pleased recognition.)

We were then treated to a brief _resume_ of the events leading up to a
religious controversy of colossal dimensions which was at that moment
threatening to engulf Scotland. Robin was deeply interested in the
matter, and gave us his reasons for being so. He passed some scathing
comments on the contumacy and narrow-mindedness of the sect who had the
misfortune to be his opponents; and after that he proceeded to say a few
words about Free Will and Predestination.

By this time lunch was over, but we sat on. I nodded gravely over my
coffee, saying "Quite so" when occasion seemed to demand it. Kitty was
completely out of her depth, but still maintained a brave appearance of
interest. It was the Twins who brought the _seance_ to a close. Placing
their hands before their mouths, they with difficulty stifled a pair of
cavernous yawns.

Next moment they were sorry. Robin stopped dead, flushed up, and said--

"Mrs Inglethwaite, I am sorry. I have been most inconsiderate and rude.
I have wearied you all. The truth is," he continued quite simply, "it is
so long since I sat at meat with friends, that I have lost the art of
conversation. I just run on, like--like a leading article.