' he had a grand time of it--till the husband came an'
dragged him oot an' thrashed him soundly. Then he left the
neighborhood--an' just th' ither day--he turned up in Glasgie."

Macfarlane paused and laughed again.

"Well?" said Lorimer, with some interest--"Did you meet him there?"

"That did I--but no to speak to him--he was for too weel lookit after to
need my services," and Macfarlane rubbed his great hands together with
an irrepressible chuckle. "There was a crowd o' hootin' laddies round
him, an' he was callin' on the heavens to bear witness to his purity.
His hat was off--an' he had a black eye--an' a' his coat was covered wi'
mud, an' a policeman was embracin' him vera affectionately by th' arm.
He was in charge for drunken, disorderly, an' indecent conduct--an' the
magistrate cam' down pretty hard on him. The case proved to be
exceptionally outrageous--so he's sentenced to a month's imprisonment
an' hard labor. Hard labor! Eh, mon! but that's fine! Fancy him at
work--at real work for the first time in a' his days! Gude Lord! I can
see him at it!"

"So he's come to that!" and Errington shrugged his shoulders with weary
contempt. "I thought he would. His career as a minister is ended, that's
one comfort!"

"Don't be too sure o' that!" said Sandy cautiously. "There's always
America, ye ken. He can mak' a holy martyr o' himsel' there! He may gain
as muckle a reputation as Henry Ward Beecher--ye canna ever tell what may
happen--'tis a queer warld!"

"Queer, indeed!" assented Lorimer as they all rose and left the
restaurant together. "If our present existence is the result of a
fortuitous conglomeration of atoms,--I think the atoms ought to have
been more careful what they were about, that's all I can say!"

They reached the open street, where Macfarlane shook hands and went his
way, promising to call on Errington as soon as Thelma should be again at
home.

"He's turned out quite a fine fellow," said Lorimer, when he had gone.
"I should never have thought he had so much in him. He has become a
philanthropist."

"I fancy he's better than an ordinary philanthropist," replied Philip.
"Philanthropists often talk a great deal and do nothing."

"Like members of Parliament," suggested Lorimer, with a smile.

"Exactly so. By-the-by--I've resigned my candidateship."

"Resigned? Why?"

"Oh, I'm sick of the thing! One has to be such a humbug to secure one's
votes. I had a wretched time yesterday,--speechifying