"Ay," answered another deacon, "and did you notice his brows? They were sorely vexed and troubled. And the eyes that had to live under them! They gave you a heartache if he but cast them on you."
"We'll be having a great sermon come the Sabbath Day, no doubt," said the leading Elder; "and, the finances being in such good shape, what think you if we give the Minister's daughter a handsome bridal gift?"
"It isn't an ordinary thing to do, Elder."
"The Minister is getting a very good salary."
"He is an uncommonly proud man, too."
"And his daughter is marrying a lord."
"Well," answered the proposer of the gift, "there's plenty of time to think the matter over," and all readily agreed to this wise delay.
Though the Minister had left the session early, it was late when he reached home, weary and hungry, and glad of Mrs. Caird's kind words and plate of cold beef and bread.
"Where on earth have you been, Ian?" she asked. "Do you know it is past eleven?"
"I have been going up and down and to and fro in the city, watching the unceasing march of the armies of labor. The crowd never rested. When the day workers stopped the night workers began—weary, joyless men. It was awful, Jessy."