"But, my dear boy--remember September! September is coming, and if you
don't bestir yourself to take advantage of this last chance, you will be
bemoaning your hard fate, and calling out that your life is ruined! Do,
for goodness' sake, descend from the clouds and be practical for once!
I'd help you if I could, but how can I, when the man refuses even to
look at me?"
Margot's voice took a plaintive tone as she uttered those last words.
She was so unaccustomed to be ignored, that the editor's avoidance
rankled in her mind. She found her thoughts persistently returning to
him in every period of leisure; when he was near, she was acutely
conscious of his presence; when he was absent, her mind followed after
him, wondering where he was, what he was doing, and of what he was
thinking. Having once seen a glimpse of the real man when, in the
character of Elspeth, she had looked into his face, sparkling with
youth, kindliness, and humour, she understood that the abstracted figure
which sat at the table at meal-times was but the shell of the real
George Elgood, and that, if the barriers of shyness and reserve could
once be overcome, he would prove an even more fascinating companion than
his brother. The desire to know him grew daily in intensity, while,
unconsciously to herself, the personal element slowly predominated the
thought of Ron and Ron's future.
Now, as the brother and sister argued together, they were hurrying along
by the edge of the tarn on their way to service at the kirk, for this
was Sunday morning, the fifth day after their arrival at the Glen.
Ron, as usual, had been late in starting, and before the village was
reached his watch showed that it was already five minutes past the time
when service began. They had been sternly directed by Mrs McNab to go
to the kirk at the far end of the village, and inquire for the inn pew,
but as it would take several minutes longer to traverse the length of
the straggling street, Margot suggested that it would be wise to attend
the nearer of the two churches.
"There can be no difference. They are both Presbyterian," quoth she, in
her ignorance; so in they went, to be met in the doorway by an elder in
his Sabbath "blacks," his solemn face surrounded by a fringe of sandy
whisker. The pews were very narrow and very high, shut in a box-like
seclusion by wooden doors; the minister, in his pulpit, was just giving
out the number of the psalm, and the precentor, after tapping his
tuning-fork and holding it to his ear, burst forth into wailing notes of
surprising strength and volume. Margot rose automatically to her feet,
to subside in confusion, as the seated congregation gazed at her in
stolid rebuke. In this kirk it was the custom to sit while singing, and
stand during prayers--a seemly and decorous habit which benighted
Southerners had difficulty in understanding.