To know one person who is positively to
be trusted, will do more for a man's moral nature--yes, for his
spiritual nature--than all the sermons he has ever heard or ever
can hear.
One evening, Malcolm thought he would pay Joseph a visit, but when
he reached Scaurnose, he found it nearly deserted: he had forgotten
that this was one of the nights of meeting in the Baillies' Barn.
Phemy indeed had not gone with her father and mother, but she was
spending the evening with the laird. Lifting the latch, and seeing
no one in the house, he was on the point of withdrawing when he
caught sight of an eye peeping through an inch opening of the door
of the bed closet, which the same moment was hurriedly closed. He
called, but received no reply, and left the cottage wondering. He
had not heard that Mrs Mair had given Lizzy Findlay shelter for a
season. And now a neighbour had observed and put her own construction
on the visit, her report of which strengthened the general conviction
of his unworthiness.
Descending from the promontory, and wandering slowly along the shore,
he met the Scaurnose part of the congregation returning home. The
few salutations dropped him as he passed were distant, and bore
an expression of disapproval. Mrs Mair only, who was walking with
a friend, gave him a kind nod. Blue Peter, who followed at a little
distance, turned and walked back with him.
"I'm exerceesed i' my min'," he said, as soon as they were clear
of the stragglers, "aboot the turn things hae taen, doon by at the
Barn.
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