on came into the minister's eyes; he had the
momentary air of a small Scotch terrier with a bidding. Finlay looked at
him in startled recognition of another possible phase of his dilemma; he
thought he knew it in every wretched aspect. It was a bold reference
of Dr Drummond's; it threw down the last possibility of withdrawal for
Finlay; they must have it out now, man to man, with a little, perhaps,
even in that unlikely place, of penitent to confessor. It was an
exigency, it helped Finlay to pull himself together, and there was
something in his voice, when he spoke, like the vibration of relief.

"I am pained and distressed more than I have any way of telling you,
sir," he said, "that--the state of feeling--between Miss Murchison and
myself should have been so plain to you. It is incomprehensible to
me that it should be so, since it is only very lately that I have
understood it truly myself. I hope you will believe that it was the
strangest, most unexpected, most sudden revelation."

He paused and looked timidly at the Doctor; he, the great fellow, in
straining bondage to his heart, leaning forward with embarrassed tension
in every muscle, Dr Drummond alert, poised, critical, balancing his
little figure on the hearthrug.

"I preach faith in miracles," he said. "I dare say between you and her
it would be just that."

"I have been deeply culpable. Common sense, common knowledge of men and
women should have warned me that there might be danger. But I looked
upon the matter as our own--as between us only. I confess that I have
not till now thought of that part of it, but surely--You cannot mean
to tell me that what I have always supposed my sincere and devoted
friendship for Miss Murchison has been in any way prejudicial--"

"To her in the ordinary sense? To her prospects of marriage and her
standing in the eyes of the community? No, Finlay. No. I have not heard
the matter much referred to. You seem to have taken none of the ordinary
means--you have not distinguished her in the eyes of gossip. If you had
it would be by no means the gravest thing to consider. Such tokens are
quickly forgotten, especially here, where attentions of the kind often,
I've noticed, lead to nothing. It is the fact, and not the appearance of
it, that I speak of--that I am concerned with."

"The fact is beyond mending," said Finlay, dully.

"Aye, the fact is beyond mending. It is beyond mending that Advena
Murchison belongs to you and you to h