'Soon?'
'Immediately,' he replied recklessly.
They reached the gates, and, as Mary held out her hand, the small basket was tilted upon her arm, and a card fluttered out.
'It is a Christmas card a little boy in one of those houses gave me,' she said, as Rob returned it to her. 'Have you got many Christmas cards to-day, Mr. Angus?'
'None,' said Rob.
'Not even from your relatives?' asked Mary, beginning to pity him more than was necessary.
'I have no relatives,' he replied; 'they are all dead.'
'I was in Scotland two summers ago,' Mary said, very softly, 'at a place called Glen Quharity; papa was there shooting. But I don't suppose you know it?'
'Our Glen Quharity!' exclaimed Rob; 'why, you must have passed through Thrums?'
'We were several times in Thrums. Have you been there?'