Betty raised her pretty lips and gave the weather-beaten cheek of Sir John Crawford an unwilling kiss. Sylvia and Hetty clasped each other's hands, clung a little more closely together, and remained mute. "Come, come," said Sir John; "we mustn't be miserable, you know! I hope that good Jean has got you something for supper, for the air up here would make any one hungry. Shall we go into the house? We all have to start at cockcrow in the morning. Donald knows, and has arranged, he tells me, for a cart to hold your luggage. Let's come in, children. I really should be glad to get out of this bitter blast." "It is just lovely!" said Betty. "I am drinking it in all I can, for I sha'n't have any more for many a long day." Sir John, who had the kindest face in the world, accompanied by the kindest heart, looked anxiously at the handsome girl. Then he thought what a splendid chance he was giving his young cousins; for, although he allowed them to call him uncle, the relationship between them was not quite so close. They all entered the sparsely furnished and bare-looking house. Six deal boxes, firmly corded with great strands of rope, were piled one on top of the other in the narrow hall. "Here's our luggage," said Betty. "My dear children--those deal boxes! What possessed you to put your things into trunks of that sort?" "They are the only trunks we have," replied Betty. "And I think supper is ready," she continued; "I smell the grouse. I told Jean to have plenty ready for supper." "Good girl, good girl!" said Sir John. "Now I will go upstairs and wash my hands; and I presume you will do the same, little women. Then we'll all enjoy a good meal." A few minutes later Sir John Crawford and the three Misses Vivian were seated round a rough table, on which was spread a very snowy but coarse cloth. The grouse were done to a turn. There was excellent coffee, the best scones in the world, and piles of fresh butter. In addition, there was a small bottle of very choice Scotch whiskey placed on the sideboard, with lemons and other preparations for a comforting drink by and by for Sir John. The girls were somewhat silent during the meal. Even Betty, who could be a chatterbox when she pleased, vouchsafed but few remarks. But when the supper-things had been cleared away Sir John said emphatically, turning to the three girls, "You got my telegram, with its splendid news?" "We got your telegram, Uncle John," said Hetty. "With its splendid news?" repeated Sir John. Hetty pursed up her firm lips; Sylvia looked at him and smiled; Betty crossed the room and put a little black kettle on the peat fire to boil. "You would like some whisky-punch?" Betty said. "I know how to make it." "Thank you, my dear; I should very much. And do you three lassies object to a pipe?"