As he took his place behind the counter, Coulson said to him in a low voice,—­

‘Jeremiah Foster has been round to bid us to sup wi’ him to-night.  He says that he and John have a little matter o’ business to talk over with us.’

A glance from his eyes to Philip told the latter that Coulson believed the business spoken of had something to do with the partnership, respecting which there had been a silent intelligence for some time between the shopmen.

‘And what did thou say?’ asked Philip, doggedly unwilling, even yet, to give up his purposed visit.

’Say! why, what could a say, but that we’d come?  There was summat up, for sure; and summat as he thought we should be glad on.  I could tell it fra’ t’ look on his face.’

‘I don’t think as I can go,’ said Philip, feeling just then as if the long-hoped-for partnership was as nothing compared to his plan.  It was always distasteful to him to have to give up a project, or to disarrange an intended order of things, such was his nature; but to-day it was absolute pain to yield his own purpose.

‘Why, man alive?’ said Coulson, in amaze at his reluctance.

‘I didn’t say I mightn’t go,’ said Philip, weighing consequences, until called off to attend to customers.

In the course of the afternoon, however, he felt himself more easy in deferring his visit to Haytersbank till the next evening.  Charley Kinraid entered the shop, accompanied by Molly Brunton and her sisters; and though they all went towards Hester’s side of the shop, and Philip and Coulson had many people to attend to, yet Hepburn’s sharpened ears caught much of what the young women were saying.  From that he gathered that Kinraid had promised them new year’s gifts, for the purchase of which they were come; and after a little more listening he learnt that Kinraid was returning to Shields the next day, having only come over to spend a holiday with his relations, and being tied with ship’s work at the other end.  They all talked together lightly and merrily, as if his going or staying was almost a matter of indifference to himself and his cousins.  The principal thought of the young women was to secure the articles they most fancied; Charley Kinraid was (so Philip thought) especially anxious that the youngest and prettiest should be pleased.  Hepburn watched him perpetually with a kind of envy of his bright, courteous manner, the natural gallantry of the sailor.  If it were but clear that Sylvia took as little thought of him as he did of her, to all appearance, Philip could even have given him praise for manly good looks, and a certain kind of geniality of disposition which made him ready to smile pleasantly at all strangers, from babies upwards.