erwent a change; her uncompromising attitude of
disapproval giving place to one of almost servile anxiety to make a
good impression. She hurriedly removed and folded her apron, slipping
it into the dresser-drawer.

"Won't you come into the parlour, sir?" she said. "It's very kind of
you to call."

"Na, na, Mrs. Beendle," replied Mr. MacFie. "I joost cam in
to--to----" He hesitated.

"But won't you sit down, sir?" Mrs. Bindle indicated a chair by the
side of the table.

Mr. MacFie drew the chair towards him, sitting bolt upright, holding
his soft felt hat upon his knees.

Mrs. Bindle drew another chair from under the opposite side of the
table and seated herself primly upon it. With folded hands she waited
for the minister to speak.

Mr. MacFie was obviously ill at ease.

"Ye'll be comin' to the sairvice, the nicht, Mrs. Beendle?" he began.

"Oh, yes, sir," responded Mrs. Bindle, moving her head back on her
shoulders, depressing her chin and drawing in her lips with a simper.
"I wouldn't miss your address."

"Aye!" said Mr. MacFie, gazing into vacancy as if in search of
inspiration. Finding none, he repeated "Aye!"

Mr. MacFie's expression was one of persistent gloom. No smile was ever
permitted to wanton across his sandy features. After a few moments'
silence he made another effort.

"I'm sair consairned, Mrs. Beendle----" He stopped, wordless.

"Yes, sir," responded Mrs. Bindle encouragingly.

"I'm sair consairned no to see the wee lassie more at the kirk."

"Who, sir, Millie?" queried Mrs. Bindle in surprise.

"Aye!" responded Mr. MacFie. "The call of mammon is like the blairst
of a great trumpet, and to the unbelieving it is as sweet music. It is
the call of Satan, Mrs. Beendle, the call of Satan," he repeated, as
if pleased with the phrase. "I'd na like the wee lassie to--to----"

"I'll speak to Mr. Hearty, sir," said Mrs. Bindle, compressing her
lips. "It's very good of you, sir, I'm sure, to----"

"Na, na," interrupted Mr. MacFie hastily, "na, na, Mrs. Beendle, ma
duty. It is the blessed duty of the shepherd to be consairned for the
welfare----"

He stopped suddenly. The outer door had banged, and there was the
sound of steps coming along the passage. Bindle's voice was heard
singing cheerily, "I'd rather Kiss the Mistress than the Maid." He
opened the door and stopped singing suddenly. For a moment he stood
looking at the pair with keen enjoyment. Both Mrs. Bindle and Mr.
MacFie appeared s