The couch was spread for the watchers' alternate use, if so they chose; on a table burned shaded candles.

Strickland had a book in his pocket.

Sitting down, he produced this, for he would not seem to watch the man by the fire.
Alexander Jardine, large and strong of frame, with a countenance massive and thoughtful for so young a man, bronzed, with well-turned features, gazed steadily into the red hollows where the light played, withdrew and played again.

Strickland tried to read, but the sense of the other's presence affected him, came between his mind and the page.
Involuntarily he began to occupy himself with Alexander and to picture his life away from Glenfernie, away, too, from Edinburgh and Scotland.
It was now six years since, definitely, he had given up the law, throwing himself, as it were, on the laird's mercy both for long and wide travel, and for life among books other than those indicated for advocates.

The laird had let him go his gait--the laird with Mrs.
Jardine a little before him.