David had suspected his sister's propriety, and was anxious to shelter her
under the spotless integrity of Janet Caird's good name.

"And for the sake o' the family I sall watch her well," she decided; "she
sall na lightly either the Cairds or the Promoters if I ken mysel'": and
from the moment of that resolve, Allan was ranged in her mind, "among the
wolves that raven round the fold."

There was nothing in the parting to strengthen her suspicions. Maggie was
indeed white and silent, but Allan went almost hurriedly away: as if he
were weary of the circumstances surrounding him. David thought him cool
and cross, and was pained by the mood; but Maggie knew the meaning of the
worried, slightly haughty manner; for in one quick glance, he had made her
understand how bitter it was to leave her in her worse than loneliness;
and how painful in his present temper was the vulgar effusiveness of
Janet Caird's thanks and noisy farewells.

An hour upon the sea cured him. "David," he said, "I was very cross. I did
not like that woman in your home. She spoils my memory of it."

"She is my fayther's sister, sir."

"Forgive me, David. Let us speak of other things. You have found
comfortable lodgings, I hope?"

"Ay, sir. Willie Buchan's third cousin married a Glasgow baker, who has a
gude place in the Candleriggs Street. That is close by the High Street and
vera convenient as to locality. The charges also are sma'. I hae a
comfortable room and my bite and sup for ten shillings weekly."