become a great man in the
community--after his own judgment at least; for although, with a few
exceptions, the missionars yielded him the influence he sought, nobody
respected him; they only respected his money. He had managed to secure
one of the most fashionable pews in the chapel; and now when Mrs
Forbes's party entered, and a little commotion arose in consequence,
they being more of gentlefolk than the place was accustomed to
entertain, Bruce was the first to walk from his seat, and request them
to occupy his pew. Alec would have passed on, for he disliked the man,
but Mrs Forbes having reasons for being complaisant, accepted his
offer. Colds kept the rest of the Bruces at home, and Annie was the
only other occupant of the pew. She crept up to the top of it, like a
little shy mouse, to be as far out of the way as possible.

"Come oot, Annie," said Bruce, in a loud whisper.

Annie came out, with a warm flush over her pale face, and Mrs Forbes
entered, then Kate, and last of all, Alec, much against his will. Then
Annie re-entered, and Bruce resumed his place as Cerberus of the
pew-door. So Annie was seated next to Alec, as she had never been, in
church or chapel, or even in school, before, except on that memorable
day when they were both _kept in_ for the Shorter Catechism. But Annie
had no feeling of delight and awe like that with which Alec sat close
to his beautiful cousin. She had a feeling of pleasure, no doubt, but
the essence of the pleasure was faith. She trusted him and believed in
him as much as she had ever done. In the end, those who trust most will
find they are nearest the truth. But Annie had no philosophy, either
worldly or divine. She had only common sense, gentleness, and
faithfulness. She was very glad, though, that Alec had come to hear Mr
Turnbull, who knew the right way better than anybody else, and could
show it quite as well as Evangelist in the _Pilgrim's Progress_.

Nor was she far wrong in her judgment of the height of Mr Turnbull's
star, calculated from the horizon of Glamerton. He was a good man who
ventured to think for himself--as far as that may be possible for one
upon whose spirit have converged, even before he was born, the
influences of a thousand theological ancestors.

After reading the curses on Mount Ebal, he preached an eloquent sermon
from the text:

"Thou art wearied in the greatness of thy way; yet saidst thou not
'there is no hope.'"

He showed his hearers that they