The younger members of the Torrance family fixed their eyes upon him with apprehensive stare.

‘You can’t imagine anything more degrading,’ continued the student, who came from afar.

‘Degrading, of course.’  Mr. Torrance sipped his tea hastily.  ’The Cape Breton people are superstitious, I believe.’

An expression that might have betokened a new resolution appeared upon the fine face of the eldest daughter.

‘We are Cape Breton people, father,’ she said, with dignified reproach.  ’I hope’—­here a timid glance, as if imploring support—­’I hope we know better than to place any real faith in these degrading superstitions.’

Howitt observed nothing but the fine face and the words that appeared to him natural.

Torrance looked at them both with the air of an honest man who was still made somewhat cowardly by new-fashioned propriety.

‘I never put much o’ my faith in these things myself,’ he said at last in broad accents, ’still,’—­an honest shake of the head—­’there’s queer things happens.’

’It is like going back to the Middle Ages’—­Howitt was still impervious—­’to hear some of these poor creatures talk.  I never thought it would be my lot to come across anything so delightfully absurd.’

’Perhaps for the sake of the ministry ye’d better be careful how ye say your mind about it,’ suggested Mr. Torrance; ’in the hearing of the poor and uneducated, of course, I mean.  But if ye like to make a study o’ that sort of thing, I’d advise ye to go and have a talk with Mistress Betty M’Leod.  She’s got a great repertory of tales, has Mistress Betty.’

Mary spoke again.  Mary was a young woman who had the courage of her opinions.  ’And if you go to Mistress M’Leod, Mr. Howitt, will you just be kind enough to ask her how to cure poor Trilium? and don’t forget anything of what she says.’

Miss Torrance gave her sister a word of reproof.  There was still upon her face the fine glow born of a new resolution never again to listen to a word of witchcraft.

As for Howitt, there came across his clever face the whimsical look which denoted that he understood Mary’s fun perfectly.  ’I will go to-morrow,’ he cried.  ’When the wise woman has told me who has bewitched Trilium, we will make a waxen figure and stick pins in it.’

The next day Howitt walked over the hills in search of Mistress Betty M’Leod.  The lake of the Bras d’Or held the sheen of the western sun in its breast.  The student walked upon green slopes far above the water, and watched the outline of the hills on the other side of the inlet, and thought upon many things.  He thought upon religion and philosophy, for he was religious and studious; he thought upon practical details of his present work, for he was anxious for the welfare of the souls under his charge; but on whatever subject his thoughts dwelt, they came back at easy intervals to the fair, dignified face of his new friend, Miss Torrance.