CHAPTER XXVII

A TWOSOME


I believe it was about the fifth day, and I know at least that James was
in one of his fits of gloom, when I received three letters. The first
was from Alan, offering to visit me in Leyden; the other two were out of
Scotland and prompted by the same affair, which was the death of my
uncle and my own complete accession to my rights. Rankeillor's was, of
course, wholly in the business view; Miss Grant's was like herself, a
little more witty than wise, full of blame to me for not having written
(though how was I to write with such intelligence?) and of rallying talk
about Catriona, which it cut me to the quick to read in her very
presence.

For it was of course in my own rooms that I found them, when I came to
dinner, so that I was surprised out of my news in the very first moment
of reading it. This made a welcome diversion for all three of us, nor
could any have foreseen the ill consequences that ensued. It was
accident that brought the three letters the same day, and that gave them
into my hand in the same room with James More; and of all the events
that flowed from that accident, and which I might have prevented if I
had held my tongue, the truth is that they were preordained before
Agricola came into Scotland or Abraham set out upon his travels.

The first that I opened was naturally Alan's; and what more natural than