Chapter XXXVII 

SECOND JOURNEY OF THE DOMINIE TO THRUMS DURING THE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. 

Here was a nauseous draught for me. Having finished my tale, I turned to Gavin for sympathy; and, behold, he had been listening for the cannon instead of to my final words. So, like an old woman at her hearth, we warm our hands at our sorrows and drop in faggots, and each thinks his own fire a sun, in presence of which all other fires should go out. I was soured to see Gavin prove this, and then I could have laughed without mirth, for had not my bitterness proved it too? 

"And now," I said, rising, "whether Margaret is to hold up her head henceforth lies no longer with me, but with you." 

It was not to that he replied. 

"You have suffered long, Mr. Ogilvy," he said. "Father," he added, wringing my hand. I called him son; but it was only an exchange of musty words that we had found too late. A father is a poor estate to come into at two and twenty. 

"I should have been told of this," he said. 

"Your mother did right, sir," I answered slowly, but he shook his head. 

"I think you have misjudged her," he said. "Doubtless while my fa- -, while Adam Dishart lived, she could only think of you with pain; but after his death--" 

"After his death," I said quietly, "I was still so horrible to her that she left Harvie without letting a soul know whither she was bound. She dreaded my following her." 
Did Gavin sympathize with him?
You have suffered long, Mr. Ogilvy