But all that was over. She felt as if she could no longer ask her husband to be amused by her childish experiences; and as for writing to her father, she dared not write to him in her present mood. Perhaps some happier time would come. Sheila paid her bill. She had heard her husband and Mr. Ingram talking about tipping waiters, and knew that she ought to give something to the man who had attended on her. But how much? He was a very august-looking person, with formally-cut whiskers and a severe expression of face. When he had brought back the change to her she timidly selected a half-crown and offered it to him. There was a little glance of surprise; she feared she had not given him enough. Then he said “Thank you!” in a vague and distant fashion, and she knew that she had not given him enough. But it was too late. Bras was summoned from under the table, and again she went out into the fresh air. “Oh, my good dog!” she said to him, as they together walked up to the gates and into the Park, “this is a very extravagant country. You have to pay half-a-crown to a servant for bringing you a piece of cold pie, and then he looks as if he were not paid enough. And Duncan, who will do everything about the house, and will give us all our dinners, it’s only a pound a week he will get, and Scarlett has to be kept out of that. And wouldn’t you like to see poor old Scarlett again?” Bras whined, as if he understood every word. “I suppose now she is hanging out the washing on the gooseberry bushes, and you know the song she always used to sing then? Don’t you know that Scarlett carried me about long before you were born, for you are a mere infant compared with me? And she used to sing to me: “Ged’ bheirte mi’ bho’n bhas so, Mho Sheila bheag òg!” And that is what she is singing just now in the garden; and Mairi she is bringing the things out of the washing house. Papa is over in Stornoway this morning, arranging his accounts with the people there; and perhaps he is down at the quay, looking at the Clansman, and wondering when she is to bring me into the harbor. The castle is all shut up, you know, with cloths over all the wonderful things, and the curtains all down, and most of the shutters shut. Do you think papa has got my letter in his pocket, and does he read it over and over again, as I read all his letters to me over and over again? Ah-h! You bad dog!”