name!"

He walked now beside Jarvis Barrow. The old man's stride was hardly
shortened by age. The two kept ahead of the two women, Greenlaw,
Thomas, and the sheep-dog Sandy.

"It's a bonny day, White Farm!"

"Aye, it's bonny eneuch, Glenfernie. Are ye for kirk?"

"Maybe so, maybe not. I take much of my kirk out of doors. Moors make
grand kirks. That has a sound, has it not, of heathenish brass
cymbals?"

"It hae."

"All the same, I honor every kirk that stands sincere."

"Wasna your father sincere? Why gae ye not in his steps?"

"Maybe I do.... Yes, he was sincere. I trust that I am so, too. I
would be."

"Why gae ye not in his steps, then?"

"All buildings are not alike and yet they may be built sincerely."

"Ye're wrong! Ye'll see it one day. Ye'll come round to your father's
steps, only ye'll tread them deeper! Ye've got it in you, to the far
back. I hear good o' ye, and I hear ill o' ye."

"Belike."

"Ye've traveled. See if ye can travel out of the ring of God!"

"What is the ring of God? If it is as large as I think it is," said
Glenfernie, "I'll not travel out of it."

He looked out over moor and moss. There breathed about him something
that gave the old man wonder. "Hae ye gold-mines and jewels,
Glenfernie? Hae the King made ye Minister?"

The wandering laird laughed. "Better than that, White Farm, better
than that!" He was tempted then and there to say: "I love your
granddaughter Elspeth. I love Elspeth!" It was his intention to say
something like this as soon as might be to White Farm. "I love Elspeth
and Elspeth loves me. So we would marry, White Farm, and she be lady
beside the laird at Glenfernie." But he could not say it yet, because
he did not know if Elspeth loved him. He was in a condition of hope,
but very humbly so, far from assurance. He never did Elspeth the
indignity of thinking that a lesser thing than love might lead her to
Glenfernie House. If she came she would come because she loved--not
else.

They left the moor, passed through the hollow of the stream and by the
mill, and began to climb the village street. Folk looked out of door
or window upon them; kirk-goers astir, dressed in their best, with
regulated step and mouth and eyes set aright, gave the correct
greeting, neither more nor less. If the afternoon breeze, if a little
runlet of water going down the street, chose to murmur: "The laird is
thick with White Farm! What makes the laird so thick with White Farm?"
tha