“Did I, Angus? I beg your pardon.”
Angus muttered something which I did not hear, and was silent. I thought I had better let the subject drop.
But before we went to bed, something happened which I never saw before. Mr Keith took a book from his pocket, and sat down at the table. Flora rose and went to the sofa, motioning to me to come beside her. Even Angus twisted himself round, and sat in a more decorous way.
“What are we going to do?” I asked of Flora.
“The exercise, dear,” said she.
“Exercise!” cried I. “What are we to exercise?”
A curious sort of gurgle came from Angus’s part of the room, as if a laugh had made its way into his throat, and he had smothered it in its cradle.
“The word is strange to Miss Caroline,” said Mr Keith, looking round with a smile. “We Scots people, Madam, speak of exercising our souls in prayer. We are about to read in God’s Word, and pray, if you please. It is our custom, morning and evening.”
“But how can we pray?” said I. “There is no clergyman.”
“Though I am not a minister,” replied Mr Keith, “yet I trust I have learned to pray.”