A thought came into Cleg's mind at the time which bore fruit afterwards. He thought that, if at any time he should lose his position with the General, he knew what he should do. For Cleg was an optimist, and a working, scheming optimist as well. The man who succeeds in this world is doubtless the man who, according to the copybook maxim, gives his undivided attention to the matter in hand. But he is also the man who has always a scheme or two in reserve. He is the man who is ready, if need be, to "fight it out on this line all summer," but who has also at the same time other fighting lines in reserve for the autumn and winter campaigns. So Cleg, with his ready brain, turned the wild flowers into a means of getting the little house in the background for Vara and himself, even if the General's kindness should vanish away as quickly and unexpectedly as it had come. The house of Sandyknowes was very quiet. Mirren Douglas had put away vain regrets even as she had laid away Muckle Alick's things—and that was as neatly as if he was to need them next Sabbath when he made ready for the kirk. She had reviewed her position. And for four years, with Vara's and Cleg's help, she had owed no man anything, and had brought up Hugh and Gavin as if they were her own. But she never thought of herself as Alick's widow. She was his wife still. Alick and she had been saving people. Also he had been, as was said, "a weel-likit man aboot the station," and he had left her nearly four hundred pounds in the bank. But this Mirren, like a prudent woman, had resolved not to touch if she could help it. She had still six years to run of the nineteen years' lease of Sandyknowes—its grass parks and its gardens, its beeskeps and little office houses. But she was often a little wearied at night, cumbered with much service. She felt that now she needed help. Her thoughts fell on Vara. Should she not bring her home? But yet how could she take her away till the term from Mistress McWalter of Loch Spellanderie? At that very moment Vara herself opened the door and walked in. "Wi' lassie!" cried the astonished Mirren Douglas, "what for hae ye left your place? Hae ye gotten leave to bide a' nicht?" "I hae gotten my fee an' my leave, like the brownie Kit Kennedy sings aboot!" said Vara pleasantly. "And what's the reason o' that?" said Mirren, with great anxiety in her motherly face. "The master and the mistress fell oot aboot me," said Vara simply. "Then I needna ask what yin o' them was in your favour," said Mirren, sharply. "I must look out for a place," said Vara. "Oh, Mirren Douglas, ye hae been kind to me. But I couldna think o' puttin' you to fash and trouble ony longer, noo that I'm woman muckle, and able to be doin' for mysel'."