"She must! The tooth often bites the tongue, but they keep together."
"Poor woman! It is a hard road for her to walk on."
"It is the ground that we do not walk on, that supports us. Faith treads on the void, and finds the rock beneath. She has found that rock, or I am greatly mistaken."
"I feel sure she has found it. Angus, if you could get her to sing that prayer, 'O For the Wings of a Dove' in church, say, while the Elders went round with the collection boxes, it would do a deal of good. It would touch every heart—they wouldn't mind their pennies, they might even give a crown where they have given a shilling."
"That is a capital idea, but I should have to ask Campbell for his consent."
"He does not own her voice."
"He thinks he does, and he must have his say-so. But if she could touch every heart as she touched ours what a gracious gift of song it would be!"
"I believe she could. Ask Robert Campbell."
"I will."
Under all circumstances Robert would have received the minister with extreme courtesy, for a Scotchman can no more afford to quarrel with the dominie of his Kirk than a Catholic in Rome can afford to quarrel with the Pope in Rome. Also, he had a great respect for Dr. Robertson, and when he was told of the sermon he intended to preach on the following Sabbath he was very proud of the confidence, and still prouder to be of service in promoting its effectiveness.