Of late it has truly been a time of startling events with me. One surprise has followed hard on the heels of another, and possibilities new to my horizon are before me, bidding fair to alter—and may I trust perfect?—my whole line of life. And yet I am not excited or exercised in mind. I wonder is this because my drama is being acted on staging of God's own making, and amidst scenery painted by His own hand? I know how strongly we are all influenced by environment. A thunderstorm over the busy city, raging around crowded haunts and up with its fire all of man's handiwork, is to me and menacing; in the country, among the echoing hills and sombre woods, it is grand and inspiring. When I think of it, it is not unlikely that a closer acquaintance with Nature and an insight into the marvellous laws which govern her have brought to me a keener sense of the true proportion of things. The pulsing sap in a February sprig of is wonderful and mysterious, more wonderful far than Joe's acquaintance with Toledo or my meeting Désirée Stuart in Nithbank Wood.  
Accompanied by Bang and Jip, I walked out to the station yesterday to meet Murray Monteith, and when I saw him step from the train to the platform I felt what Betty calls a 'ruggin'' at my heart, for very emphatically he appeared as a link me to a life which I know I must soon re-enter, and which I have lately ignored and well-nigh forgotten.
 
Monteith is one of the of our profession, a gentleman by breeding and nature from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot. Quiet, reserved, well knit and well , he fills the eye and takes the heart wherever he goes, and as I shook hands with him I felt a secret pride in the knowledge that he is my partner.
 
I welcomed him warmly to the strath of his , and assured him that if his knife and fork happened to be reversed at dinner, or if any one offered a left-hand shake, he must just count it an accident, as we had long ago ceased to remember the disreputable part his namesake played in pre-Bannockburn days.
 
We had a twelve o'clock dinner: —not the kind everybody or anybody makes, but Betty's broth—boiled beef, with potatoes in their skins, followed by a jam-roll, of which Monteith had two liberal . I told him that long ago it was usual to finish up a dinner with another plateful of broth, and he assured me that had he not partaken of the jam-roll he would gladly have revived the custom. I didn't forget to tell Betty of the , and I know it pleased her, for when we drew in our chairs for a smoke I heard her voice from the back-kitchen raised, as timmer as of old, in the lilting strains of 'The Farmer's Boy.'
 
Then through tobacco-reek we talked business—at least Monteith did, and I listened. He had much to tell me, and he talks well. After disposing of some private matters, we the all-important object of our visit to Mrs Stuart, and it was only when we came to the unpleasant part of Miss Stuart's affairs that I told him of my wonderful discovery and the astonishing part that Joe had played in it.
 
Dressed in his Sunday best, Joe was awaiting his call in the kitchen, and on being brought in he was closely questioned by Monteith. Not only did Joe confirm all he had told me before, but he added to our knowledge by giving us the exact date of the baptism of the Major's baby. It synchronised with the date of a black day in Joe's life, when a girl died of whom he was very fond. When I was thinking of his tragedy, and making allowances for much that Betty , Monteith, with arched , was staring at him through a monocle, thanking for having so sent him our way, and counting him a means to a successful end.
 
Long after Joe had left the room, Murray Monteith sat lost in thought. Monteith cannot leave a fire alone when he is thinking anything out. His room in our in Charlotte Square adjoins mine, and if I hear through the wall a vigorous and smashing going on I know he is tackling a problem. Yesterday, in five minutes, he 'bashed' Betty's fire out of recognition; and when for the tenth time he had lifted and dropped the he turned to me suddenly and said, 'By Jove, Russell, this will be a bitter pill for our friends Smart & Scobie!' I told him I didn't care a rap for that; what gratified me beyond measure was the fact that a sweet, sensitive girl had been spared , and that, instead of being a nameless lassie, she was Miss Stuart of Abereran.
 
I very feelingly, and Monteith wasn't slow to notice it. He focussed me slowly through his monocle. 'I share that sentiment with you, Russell,' he said. 'I am not unmindful of her, though I give voice to my feeling of in scoring a point. I trust Miss Stuart has no inkling of what has been in our way to prevent a settlement in her affairs. You—you haven't met her yet?'
 
'Oh yes; we are a small community here, and I have spoken to her once or twice.'
 
'Then you............