After having greeted his aged grandmother, his first visit was to Woodend, where he was received by Jeanie with warm cordiality, arising from recollections which had never been dismissed from her mind, by Rebecca with good-humoured hospitality, and by old Deans in a mode peculiar to himself.
Highly as Douce Davie honoured the clergy, it was not upon each individual of the cloth that he bestowed his approbation; and, a little jealous, perhaps, at seeing his youthful acquaintance erected into the dignity of a teacher and preacher, he instantly attacked him upon various points of controversy, in order to discover whether he might not have fallen into some of the snares, defections, and desertions of the time.
Butler was not only a man of stanch Presbyterian principles, but was also willing to avoid giving pain to his old friend by disputing upon points of little importance; and therefore he might have hoped to have come like fine gold out of the furnace of Davie's interrogatories.

But the result on the mind of that strict investigator was not altogether so favourable as might have been hoped and anticipated.

Old Judith Butler, who had hobbled that evening as far as Woodend, in order to enjoy the congratulations of her neighbours upon Reuben's return, and upon his high attainments, of which she was herself not a little proud, was somewhat mortified to find that her old friend Deans did not enter into the subject with the warmth she expected.

At first, in he seemed rather silent than dissatisfied; and it was not till Judith had essayed the subject more than once that it led to the following dialogue.
"Aweel, neibor Deans, I thought ye wad hae been glad to see Reuben amang us again, poor fellow." "I _am_ glad, Mrs.Butler," was the neighbour's concise answer.
"Since he has lost his grandfather and his father (praised be Him that giveth and taketh!), I ken nae friend he has in the world that's been sae like a father to him as the sell o'ye, neibor Deans." "God is the only father of the fatherless," said Deans, touching his bonnet and looking upwards.

"Give honour where it is due, gudewife, and not to an unworthy instrument." "Aweel, that's your way o' turning it, and nae doubt ye ken best; but I hae ken'd ye, Davie, send a forpit o' meal to Beersheba when there wasna a bow left in the meal-ark at Woodend; ay, and I hae ken'd ye." "Gudewife," said Davie, interrupting her, "these are but idle tales to tell me; fit for naething but to puff up our inward man wi' our ain vain acts.