kie mechanically turned to the west, and then slowly let his
glance fall on the lovely face at his side.

"Christine," he asked softly, "how is all with you?"

"All is well, James."

Not another word was spoken until they reached David Cameron's home.
He was carefully reconsidering the sermon--going over every point on
his finger ends, lest he should drop any link of the argument; and
James and Christine were listening to his criticisms and remarks. They
all stopped before a shop over the windows of which was painted,
"David Cameron, Dealer in Fine Teas;" and David, taking a large key
from his pocket, opened the door, and said,

"Come in and eat wi' us, James; ye ken ye're welcome."

"Our friendship, Mr. Cameron, is a kind of Montgomery division--all on
one side, nothing on the other; but I am 'so by myself' that I thank
you heartily."

So David, followed by Christine and James, passed slowly through the
darkened store, with its faint smells of Eastern spices and fragrant
teas, into the little parlor beyond. The early winter night had now
fallen, and the room, having only an outlet into a small court, would
have been dark also but for the red glow of the "covered" fire. David
took the poker and struck the great block of coal, and instantly the
cheerful blaze threw an air of cosey and almost picturesque comfort
over the homelike room.

The two men sat down beside the fire, spreading their hands to its
warmth, and apparently finding their own thoughts excellent company,
for neither of them spoke or moved until Christine reappeared. She had
divested herself of the handsome black satin and velvet which formed
her kirk suit; but in her long, plain dress of gray winsey, with a
snowy lawn kerchief and cuffs, she looked still more fair and lovable.

James watched her as she spread the cloth and produced from various
cupboards cold meats and pastries, bread and cakes, and many kinds of
delicate preserves and sweetmeats. Her large, shapely hands among the
gold-and-white china fascinated him, while her calm, noiseless,
unhurried movements induced a feeling of passive repose that it
required an effort to dispel, when she said in a low, even voice,

"Father, the food is waiting for the blessing."

It was a silent but by no means an unhappy meal. David was a good man,
and he ate his food graciously and gratefully, dropping now and then a
word of praise or thanks; and James felt it delightful enough to watch
Christine. For