nd
laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Had they both been standing
the gesture would have been impossible to Dr Drummond with dignity;
as it was, it had not only that, but benignance, a kind of tender good
will, rare in expression with the minister, rare, for that matter, in
feeling with him too, though the chord was always there to be sounded.

"Finlay," he said; "Finlay!"

Between two such temperaments the touch and the tone together made an
extraordinary demonstration. Finlay, with an obvious effort, let it lie
upon him. The tension of his body relaxed, that of his soul he covered,
leaning forward and burying his head in his hands.

"Will you say I have no claim to speak?" asked Dr Drummond, and met
silence. "It is upon my lips to beg you not to send that letter,
Finlay." He took his hand from the young man's shoulder, inserted a
thumb in each of his waistcoat pockets, and resumed his walk.

"On my own account I must send it," said Finlay. "On Miss
Murchison's--she bids me to. We have gone into the matter together."

"I can imagine what you made of it together. There's a good deal of her
father in Advena. He would be the last man to say a word for himself.
You told her this tale you have told me, and she told you to get Miss
Christie out and marry her without delay, eh? And what would you expect
her to tell you--a girl of that spirit?"

"I cannot see why pride should influence her."

"Then you know little about women. It was pride, pure and simple,
Finlay, that made her tell you that--and she'll be a sorry woman if you
act on it."

"No," said Finlay, suddenly looking up, "I may know little about women,
but I know more about Advena Murchison than that. She advised me in the
sense she thought right and honourable, and her advice was sincere. And,
Dr Drummond, deeply as I feel the bearing of Miss Murchison's view of
the matter, I could not, in any case, allow my decision to rest upon it.
It must stand by itself."

"You mean that your decision to marry to oblige your aunt should not be
influenced by the fact that it means the wrecking of your own happiness
and that of another person. I can't agree, Finlay. I spoke first of
Advena Murchison because her part and lot in it are most upon my heart.
I feel, too, that someone should put her case. Her own father would
never open his lips. If you're to be hauled over the coals about this
I'm the only man to do it. And I'm going to."

A look of sharp determinati