“What did I say?” asked the little minister, with misgivings.

“That there was great danger when people married out of their own rank of life.”

“Oh—­ah—­well, of course, that would depend on circumstances.”

“They were wise words, Gavin.  There was the sermon, too, that you preached a month or two ago against marrying into other denominations.  Jean told me that it greatly impressed the congregation.  It is a sad sight, as you said, to see an Auld Licht lassie changing her faith because her man belongs to the U. P.’s.”

“Did I say that?”

“You did, and it so struck Jean that she told me she would rather be an old maid for life, ‘the which,’ she said, ’is a dismal prospect,’ than marry out of the Auld Licht kirk.”

“It is harmless,” Gavin answered, going to the window.  He started back next moment, and crying, “Don’t look out, mother,” hastily pulled down the blind.

“Why, Gavin,” Margaret said in fear, “you look as if it had struck you.”

“Oh, no,” Gavin answered, with a forced laugh, and he lit her lamp for her.

But it had struck him, though it was not lightning.  It was the flashing of a lantern against the window to attract his attention, and the holder of the lantern was Babbie.

“Good-night, mother.”

“Good-night, Gavin.  Don’t sit up any later.”  Tammas, though he is so obstinate, has a love for you passing the love of woman.  These were her words.  Jean is more sentimental than you might think.”

“I wish he would show his love,” said Gavin, “by contradicting me less frequently.”

“You have Rob Dow to weigh against him.”

“No; I cannot make out what has come over Rob lately.  He is drinking heavily again, and avoiding me.  The lightning is becoming very vivid.”

“Yes, and I hear no thunder.  There is another thing, Gavin.  I am one of those that like to sit at home, but if you had a wife she would visit the congregation.  A truly religious wife would be a great help to you.”

“Religious,” Gavin repeated slowly.  “Yes, but some people are religious without speaking of it.  If a woman is good she is religious.  A good woman who has been, let us say, foolishly brought up, only needs to be shown the right way to tread it.  Mother, I question if any man, minister or layman, ever yet fell in love because the woman was thrifty, or clever, or went to church twice on Sabbath.”

“I believe that is true,” Margaret said, “and I would not have it otherwise.  But it is an awful thing, Gavin, as you said from the pulpit two weeks ago, to worship only at a beautiful face.”

“You think too much about what I say in the pulpit, mother,” Gavin said, with a sigh, “though of course a man who fell in love merely with a face would be a contemptible creature.  Yet I see that women do not understand how beauty affects a man.”

“Yes, yes, my boy—­oh, indeed, they do,” said Margaret, who on some matters knew far more than her son.