"I most bear the reproach, ma'am. I can not consent to be a hypocrite in
order to avoid being called one!"

Either Miss Fordyce had no answer to this, or did not choose to give
any. She was not troubled that Andrew would not go to church, but
offended at the unhesitating decision with which he set her counsel
aside. Andrew made her a respectful bow, turned away, put on his bonnet,
which he had held in his hand all the time, and passed through the
garden gate.

"Who is the fellow?" asked George, partaking sympathetically of his
companion's annoyance.

"He is Andrew Ingram, the son of a small farmer, one of my father's
tenants. He and his brother work with their father on the farm. They are
quite respectable people. Andrew is conceited, but has his good points.
He imagines himself a poet, and indeed his work has merit. The worst of
him is that he sets up for being better than other people."

"Not an unusual fault with the self-educated!"

"He does go on educating himself, I believe, but he had a good start to
begin with. My father took much pains with him at school. He helped to
carry you here after the accident--and would have taken you to his
father's if I would have let him."

George cast on her a look of gratitude.

"Thank you for keeping me," he said. "But I wish I had taken some notice
of his kindness!"