Jock, on the other hand, seemed more solemnised than gleeful.
"That's the first time I've ever had a prayer answered," he announced.
"I couldn't do my Greek last night, and I prayed that I wouldn't be at the class--and I won't be.

Gosh, Maggie!" "Oh, Jock," his sister protested, "that's not what prayers are for." "Mebbe not, but I've managed it this time," and, unrepentant, Jock started on another slice of bread and butter.
Jean told Pamela of Jock's prayer as they went together to fetch Mhor from school.
"But Mhor is a much greater responsibility than Jock.

You know where you are with Jock: underneath is a bedrock of pure goodness.

You see, we start with the enormous advantage of having had forebears of the very decentest--not great, not noble, but men who feared God and honoured the King--men who lived justly and loved mercy.

It would be most uncalled for of us to start out on bypaths with such a straight record behind us.
But Mhor, bless him, is different.