It consisted of an old man and a young girl, evidently his daughter.

Both were strikingly handsome, and the girl was much better dressed than the majority of women who took the same road.

Long before they reached the Green they were joined by a younger man, whom the elder at once addressed in a reproving voice.
"Ye didna pay as much attention to the sermon as it behooved ye to do, James Blackie; and what for did ye speak to Robert Laird a'most within 'the Gates' ?" "I only asked if he had heard of the 'Bonnie Bess;' she is overdue five days, and eight good men in her, not to speak of the cargo." "It's no cannie to be aye asking questions.

Sit still and the news will come to ye: forbye, I'm no sure if yon was a lawfu' question; the Sabbath sun hasna set yet." James Blackie mechanically turned to the west, and then slowly let his glance fall on the lovely face at his side.
"Christine," he asked softly, "how is all with you ?" "All is well, James." Not another word was spoken until they reached David Cameron's home.
He was carefully reconsidering the sermon--going over every point on his finger ends, lest he should drop any link of the argument; and James and Christine were listening to his criticisms and remarks.

They all stopped before a shop over the windows of which was painted, "David Cameron, Dealer in Fine Teas;" and David, taking a large key from his pocket, opened the door, and said, "Come in and eat wi' us, James; ye ken ye're welcome." "Our friendship, Mr.Cameron, is a kind of Montgomery division--all on one side, nothing on the other; but I am 'so by myself' that I thank you heartily." So David, followed by Christine and James, passed slowly through the darkened store, with its faint smells of Eastern spices and fragrant teas, into the little parlor beyond.