The next evening the Torrance family were walking to meeting.  The student joined himself to Miss Torrance.  He greeted her with the whimsical look of grave humour.  ‘You are to take a pound of pins,’ he said.

‘I do not believe it would do any good,’ she interrupted eagerly.

It struck him as very curious that she should assert her unbelief.  He was too nonplussed to go on immediately.  Then he supposed it was part of the joke, and proceeded to give the other details.

’Mr. Howitt,’—­a tremulous pause,—­’it is very strange about poor Trilium, she has always been such a good, dear cow; the children are very fond of her, and my mother was very fond of her when she was a heifer.  The last summer before she died, Trilium fed out of mother’s hand, and now—­she’s in perfect health as far as we can see, but father says that if she keeps on refusing to give her milk he will be obliged to sell her.’

Miss Torrance, who was usually strong and dignified, spoke now in a very appealing voice.

‘Couldn’t you get an old farmer to look at her, or a vet?’

‘But why do you think she has suddenly stopped giving milk?’ persisted the girl.

‘I am very sorry, but I really don’t know anything about animals,’ said he.

‘Oh, then if you don’t know anything about them——­’ She paused.  There had been such an evident tone of relief in her voice that he wondered much what would be coming next.  In a moment she said, ’I quite agreed with you the other night when you said the superstition about witchcraft was degrading.’

‘No one could think otherwise.’  He was much puzzled at the turn of her thought.

’Still, of course, about animals, old people like Mistress Betty M’Leod may know something.’

As they talked they were walking down the street in the calm of the summer evening to the prayer meeting.  The student’s mind was intent upon his duties, for, as they neared the little white-washed church, many groups were seen coming from all sides across the grassy space in which it stood.  He was an earnest man, and his mind became occupied with the thought of the spiritual needs of these others who were flocking to hear him preach and pray.

Inside the meeting-room, unshaded oil lamps flared upon a congregation most serious and devout.  The student felt that their earnestness and devotion laid upon him the greater responsibility; he also felt much hindered in his speech because of their ignorance and remote ways of thought.  It was a comfort to him to feel that there was at least one family among his hearers whose education would enable them to understand him clearly.  He looked with satisfaction at the bench where Mr. Torrance sat with his children.  He looked with more satisfaction to where Miss Torrance sat at the little organ.  She presided over it with dignity and sweet seriousness.  She drew music even out of its squeaking keys.