Young Ross turned to call up Coinneach and Calum, who were waiting at the end of the quay, in order to give them instructions about the luggage; and it was at this moment that Mary stepped up to the stranger. "Instead of going to wait at the inn," said she, "wouldn’t you rather come with me? Lochgarra House is quite as near—and you would not be sitting alone." It was a gentle face that was regarding her, and a gentle voice that spoke. "Oh, yes, mem, if you will be so kind," was the answer. "Then tell Mr. Ross you have gone on with me; and he can send one of the men for you when he is ready," Mary said; and by this little arrangement she was saved the necessity of having any further conversation with young Ross of Heimra, if such was her intention. They moved away. "Do you think you will know many of the people about here, after so long a time?" asked Mary of her new acquaintance, as they left the quay—the silent, but not unobservant, nor yet unamused, Käthchen accompanying. "Oh, no, mem," was the answer (but, as she talked, the old woman turned from time to time to see if she could not get some brief further glimpse of her heart’s idol) "my people they were all about Dingwall; and it was from Dingwall I came over here to serve with Mrs. Ross. Ah, she was the noble lady, that!" continued the faithful Ann, looking back over many years. "When we heard of her death, it was then, more than ever, that I thought I must go away to Lochgarra, to see the young master. For she was so careful of his upbringing; and they were just constant companions; and he was always the little gentleman, and polite to everyone—except when Mrs. Ross had a headache—and then he would come down stairs, ay, into the servants’ hall, or even to the door of the kitchen—and proud and fierce, as if he would kill some one, and he would say ’What is this noise? I order you to be quiet, when my mamma is asleep!’ And you would have heard a pin drop after that, mem. Rather too fond of books he was," continued the silver-haired old dame, whose newly-found happiness had made her excitedly talkative, "and rather delicate in health; and then Mrs. Ross would be talking to him in different languages, neither the Gaelic nor the English, and he would be answering her as well as he could—the little gentleman!—when they were sitting at the table. Indeed, now, that was making the old Admiral—that was Mrs. Ross’s uncle—very angry; and he was swearing, and saying there was no use for any language but the English language; and many’s and many’s the time he was taking young Donald away with him in his yacht, and saying he would make a sailor and a man of him. Well, well, now, who would think the young master had ever been delicate like that, and fond of books—so fine and handsome he has grown—and the laugh he has—ay, a laugh that carries a good story of health and happiness with it!"