am going to look in at the Milburns', Advena. Good night, Mr
Finlay."

Advena, walking on with Finlay, became suddenly aware that he had not
once addressed her. She had the quick impression that Lorne left him
bereft of a refuge; his plight heartened her.

"If the politicians on both sides were only as mutually appreciative,"
she said, "the Empire would soon be knit."

For a moment he did not answer. "I am afraid the economic situation is
not quite analogous," he said, stiffly and absently, when the moment had
passed.

"Why does your brother always call me 'Mr' Finlay?" he demanded
presently. "It isn't friendly."

The note of irritation in his voice puzzled her. "I think the form is
commoner with us," she said, "even among men who know each other fairly
well." Her secret glance flashed over the gulf that nevertheless divided
Finlay and her brother, that would always divide them. She saw it with
something like pain, which struggled through her pride in both. "And
then, you know--your calling--"

"I suppose it is that," he replied, ill content.

"I've noticed Dr Drummond's way," she told him, with rising spirits.
"It's delightful. He drops the 'Mr' with fellow-ministers of his own
denomination only--never with Wesleyans or Baptists, for a moment. He
always comes back very genial from the General Assembly, and full of
stories. 'I said to Grant,' or 'Macdonald said to me'--and he always
calls you 'Finlay,'" she added shyly. "By the way, I suppose you know
he's to be the new Moderator?"

"Is he, indeed? Yes--yes, of course, I knew! We couldn't have a better."

They walked on through the early autumn night. It was just not raining.
The damp air was cool and pungent with the smell of fallen leaves, which
lay thick under their feet. Advena speared the dropped horse chestnut
husks with the point of her umbrella as they went along. She had picked
up half a dozen when he spoke again. "I want to tell you--I have to tell
you--something--about myself, Miss Murchison."

"I should like," said Advena steadily, "to hear."

"It is a matter that has, I am ashamed to confess, curiously gone out
of my mind of late--I should say until lately. There was little until
lately--I am so poor a letter writer--to remind me of it. I am engaged
to be married!"

"But how interesting!" exclaimed Advena.

He looked at her taken aback. His own mood was heavy; it failed to
answer this lightness from her. It is hard to know what he expected,