This morning he was in high spirits, and inclined to be unusually talkative. But it was not until the meal was nearly over that he said: "There will be a new preacher in our church to-morrow morning. I am sorry I shall not be able to hear him. Dr. Robertson says he has a wonderful gift in expounding the Word."
"When did you see the doctor?" asked Mrs. Campbell.
"This morning. He called at my office on a little matter of business."
"And why will you not hear the new preacher?"
"I am going to England by the three o'clock train, mother."
At this answer Isabel looked at Christina, and Mrs. Campbell said: "I suppose you are going to Sheffield?"
"Yes, I shall go to Sheffield."
"You go there a great deal."
"It belongs to my duty to go there."
With these words he suddenly became—not exactly cross—but reserved and ungracious. His mother's words had betrayed her. As soon as she remarked on the frequency of his visits to Sheffield, he knew that she was aware of the facts that she had positively asserted she would not name, and he divined her intention to put him in the position of one who confesses a fault or acknowledges a weakness. He retired immediately into the fortress of his manly superiority. He was not going to be put to catechism by a cabal of women, so he hastily finished his lunch and rose from the table.