d face, and the news that her mistress
was not in her room. The laird's loose mouth dropped looser.

"Miss Galbraith did us the honour to sleep at our house last night,"
said Mr. Sclater deliberately.

"The devil!" cried the laird, relieved. "Why!--What!--Are you aware
of what you are saying, sir?"

"Perfectly; and of what I saw too. A blow looks bad on a lady's
face."

"Good heavens! the little hussey dared to say I struck her?"

"She did not say so; but no one could fail to see some one had. If
you do not know who did it, I do."

"Send her home instantly, or I will come and fetch her," cried the
laird.

"Come and dine with us if you want to see her. For the present she
remains where she is. You want her to marry Fergus Duff; she
prefers my ward, Gilbert Galbraith, and I shall do my best for
them."

"She is under age," said the laird.

"That fault will rectify itself as fast in my house as in yours,"
returned the minister. "If you invite the publicity of a legal
action, I will employ counsel, and wait the result."

Mr. Sclater was not at all anxious to hasten the marriage; he would
much rather, in fact, have it put off, at least until Gibbie should
have taken his degree. The laird started up in a rage, but the room
was so small that he sat down again. The minister leaned back in
his chair. He was too much displeased with the laird's behaviour to
lighten the matter for him by setting forth the advantages of having
Sir Gibbie for a son-in-law.

"Mr. Sclater," said the laird at length, "I am shocked, unspeakably
shocked, at my daughter's conduct. To leave the shelter of her
father's roof, in the middle of the night, and--"

"About seven o'clock in the evening," interjected Mr. Sclater.

"--and take refuge with strangers!" continued the laird.

"By no means strangers, Mr. Galbraith!" said the minister. "You
drive your daughter from your house, and are then shocked to find
she has taken refuge with friends!"

"She is an unnatural child. She knows well enough what I think of
her, and what reason she has given me so to think."

"When a man happens to be alone in any opinion," remarked the
minister, "even if the opinion should be of his own daughter, the
probabilities are he is wrong. Every one but yourself has the
deepest regard for Miss Galbraith."

"She has always cultivated strangely objectionable friendships,"
said the laird.

"For my own part," said the minister, as if heedless