"Well then, my name be it. My name has been so much used lately, I think I will change it." "Take my name then. I will be proud indeed if you will." "You are aye daffing, Ian; I am o'er busy for nonsense the now. Give the Mac a hint that tartans are not necessary." "But I cannot do that. I am going to wear the Macrae tartan." "You can let that intent go by." "No, I can not! A certain 'yes' may depend on my wearing the Macrae tartan." "Well, checked cloth is bonnier than black broadcloth to some people. I don't think Thora Ragnor is among that silly crowd. There is not a more quarrelsome dress than a tartan kilt--and I'm thinking the Brodies were ill friends with the Macraes in the old days." "The Brodies are not Highlanders." "You are a shamefully ignorant man, Ian Macrae. The Brodies came from Moray, and are the only true lineal descendants of Malcolm Thane of Brodie in the reign of Alexander the Third, lawful King of Scotland. What do you think of the Brodies now?" "The Macrae doffs his bonnet to them; but----" "If you say another word, the McLeod will be out of it--sure and final." So Ian laughingly left the room, and Mistress Brodie walked to the window and watched him speeding towards the town. "He is a wonderful lad!" she said to herself. "And I wish he was my lad! Oh why were all my bairns lasses? They just married common bodies and left me! Oh for a lad like Ian Macrae!" Then with a great sigh, she added: "It is all right. I would doubtless have spoiled and mismanaged him!" It is not to be supposed that Sunna Vedder kept away from all this social stir and preparation. She was first and foremost in everything during Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday she reserved herself altogether for the evening. No one saw her until the noon hour; then she came to the dinner table, for she had an entirely fresh request to make, one which she was sure would require all her personal influence to compass. She prefaced it with the intelligence that Boris had arrived during the night, and that Elga had met him in the street--"looking more handsome than any man ought to look, except upon his wedding day." "And on that day," said Adam, gloomily, "a man has generally good cause to look ugly." "But if he was going to marry me, Grandfather, how then?" "He would doubtless look handsome. Men usually do when they are on the road of destruction." "Grandfather! I have made up my mind to marry Boris, and lead him the way I want him to go. That will always be the way thou chooseth." "How comes that?" "I loved thee first of all. I shall always love thee first. Boris played me false, I must pay him back. I must make him suffer. Those Ragnors--all of them--put on such airs! They make me sick." "What art thou after? What favour art thou seeking?" "Thou knows how the girls will try to outdress each other at this Brodie affair----" "It is too late for a new dress--what is it thou wants now?"