“It was many years ago, before that Allan will be going many times to America, and he will neffer hef seen such fine shops and ta big houses and hundreds and hundreds of people, every one with shoes on their feet. And he will say to John, ‘John, ef I had known in time I should hef been born here.’ But no one will believe it iss true, he is such a teffle of a liar, that John; and he will hef some stories about Mr. Mackenzie himself, as I hef been told, that he will tell when he goes to Styornoway. But John is a ferry cunning fellow, and will not tell any such stories in Borva.” “I suppose if he did, Duncan, you would dip him in Loch Roag.” “Oh, there iss more than one,” said Duncan, with a grim twinkle in his eye--“there iss more than one that would hef a joke with him if he was to tell stories about Mr. Mackenzie.” Lavender had been standing listening, unknown to both. He now went forward and bade them good-morning, and then, having had a look at the trout that Duncan had caught, pulled Ingram up from the bank, put his arm in his and walked away with him. “Ingram,” he said, suddenly, with a laugh and a shrug, “you know I always come to you when I’m in a fix.” “I suppose you do,” said the other, “and you are always welcome to whatever help I can give you. But sometimes it seems to me you rush into fixes with the sort of notion that I am responsible for getting you out.” “I can assure you nothing of the kind is the case. I could not be so ungrateful. However, in the meantime--that is--the fact is, I asked Sheila last night if she should marry me.” “The devil you did!” Ingram dropped his companion’s arm and stood looking at him. “Well, I knew you would be angry,” said the younger man in a tone of apology. “And I know I have been too precipitate, but I thought of the short time we should be remaining here, and of the difficulty of getting an explanation made at an another time; and it was really only to give her a hint as to my own feelings that I spoke. I could not bear to wait any longer.” “Never mind about yourself,” said Ingram, somewhat curtly. “What did Sheila say?” “Well, nothing definite. What could you expect a girl to say after so short an acquaintance? But this I can tell you, that the proposal is not altogether distasteful to her, and that I have permission to speak to her at some future time, when we have known each other longer.” “You have?” “Yes.” “You are quite sure?” “Certain.” “There is no mistake about her silence, for example, that might have led you into misinterpreting her wishes altogether?” “Nothing of the kind is possible. Of course I could not ask the girl for any promise, or anything of that sort. All I asked was, whether she would allow me at some future time to ask her more definitely; and I am so well satisfied with her reply that I am convinced I shall marry her.” “And is this the fix you wish me to help you out of?” said Ingram, rather coldly.