Elgin; countryfolk, on a market day, would wait a quarter of an hour for the young man and think nothing of it; and I imagine Bofield found his account in the elevator, though he did complain sometimes that such persons went up and down on frivolous pretexts or to amuse the baby.  As a matter of fact, Elgin had begun as the centre of “trading” for the farmers of Fox County, and had soon over-supplied that limit in demand; so that when other interests added themselves to the activity of the town there was still plenty of room for the business they brought.  Main Street was really, therefore, not a fair index; nobody in Elgin would have admitted it.  Its appearance and demeanour would never have suggested that it was now the chief artery of a thriving manufacturing town, with a collegiate institute, eleven churches, two newspapers, and an asylum for the deaf and dumb, to say nothing of a fire department unsurpassed for organization and achievement in the Province of Ontario.  Only at twelve noon it might be partly realized when the prolonged “toots” of seven factory whistles at once let off, so to speak, the hour.  Elgin liked the demonstration; it was held to be cheerful and unmistakable, an indication of “go-ahead” proclivities which spoke for itself.  It occurred while yet Dr Drummond and Mr Murchison stood together in the store door.

“I must be getting on,” said the minister, looking at his watch.  “And what news have you of Lorne?”

“Well, he seems to have got through all right.”

“What—­you’ve heard already, then?”

“He telegraphed from Toronto on Saturday night.”  Mr Murchison stroked his chin, the better to retain his satisfaction.  “Waste of money—­the post would have brought it this morning—­but it pleased his mother.  Yes, he’s through his Law Schools examination, and at the top, too, as far as I can make out.”

“Dear me, and you never mentioned it!” Dr Drummond spoke with the resigned impatience of a familiar grievance.  It was certainly a trying characteristic of John Murchison that he never cared about communicating anything that might seem to ask for congratulation.  “Well, well!  I’m very glad to hear it.”

“It slipped my mind,” said Mr Murchison.  “Yes, he’s full-fledged ‘barrister and solicitor’ now; he can plead your case or draw you up a deed with the best of them.  Lorne’s made a fair record, so far.  We’ve no reason to be ashamed of him.”

“That you have not.”  Personal sentiments between these two Scotchmen were indicated rather than indulged.  “He’s going in with Fulke and Warner, I suppose—­you’ve got that fixed up?”

“Pretty well.  Old man Warner was in this morning to talk it over.  He says they look to Lorne to bring them in touch with the new generation.  It’s a pity he lost that son of his.”

“Oh, a great pity.  But since they had to go outside the firm they couldn’t have done better; they couldn’t have done better.  I hope Lorne will bring them a bit of Knox Church business too; there’s no reason why Bob Mackintosh should have it all.  They’ll be glad to see him back at the Hampden Debating Society.  He’s a great light there, is Lorne; and the Young Liberals, I hear are wanting him for chairman this year.”