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How glad then had Rob been to see Jeanie! And even when he began to have “grand friends,” and to eschew his uncle’s shop, her smiling looks, her soft sympathy, had kept him always faithful. And Jeanie had not thought very much of the two years of silence since she came back to Fife. They were both young, and she knew that Rob’s mother was not likely to smile upon so humble a daughter-in-law. But his return had roused all the past, and the thought of meeting him again had stirred Jeanie’s being to the depths. Even this visit had changed the aspect of affairs for her. For it had not seemed possible that Rob could have entirely neglected her father, whom everybody esteemed, and she had come to the Kirkton—honestly to ask counsel in her difficulty, yet not without hope of hearing something that might charm all difficulty away.

“Jeanie,” said her father, at last, “whatever we meet with in this world there’s aye but one path for right-minded folk. You maun neither flee from your duty nor gang beyond your duty. We’ve nae business to rin away from trouble because its trouble, but we’ve nae call to put oursels in its way. If it’s clear that no person can let the lad in but you, open the door till him, take him up the stair—do it, my woman, and never think twice; but if it’s no needfu’, forbear. And as for leaving it on him to own you for a friend, you must not do that; it would be untruthful on your part, for I hope you’re ower weel bred, my bonnie woman, to pass any person you ken without a smile or a pleasant word. You wouldna disown your friend if he turned poor, and why should he, when he’s turned rich? or I should say grand in his ways, for rich Rob Glen will never be. Sae it will be but honest when you see the lad to say ‘How is a’ wi’ you, Robin,’ or ‘I hope you’re keeping your health,’ or the like of that. Say nothing of other things. Let no lad think you are seeking him; but neither should any lad think you are feared to let it be seen you ken him. Na, I’ll hear o’ nae concealments; my Jeanie must be as clear as the running water, aye true, and scornin’ to deceive. ‘Ay,’ you’ll say, ‘Miss Margaret, I ken Robert Glen.’”