"And why not?" said he, boldly. "Oh, I suppose you consider that effeminate: you would rather have him living among rocks and caves, like this smuggling fellow, and shooting seagulls for his dinner? However, look at my position. I ask him to come down with me, at your suggestion. I tell him it isn’t a grand shooting—and that he’ll get more sea-trout than salmon in the river—but he comes all the same; and then we discover that the whole place is at the mercy of this idling blackguard of a fellow—if we get a few birds or find a pool undisturbed, it is with his sufferance——" "So you have acquired all this information at Inverness?" said she. "But I wouldn’t entirely trust it if I were you. I am afraid Mr. Purdie is rather prejudiced. He may have been exaggerating. However, if there is any truth in what he says, I’ll tell you what you ought to do: ask Mr. Ross to join your shooting and fishing parties. You’ll meet him to-night at dinner." "Here—in this house?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Mamie, are you mad?" "I hope not," she said quietly. "But Mr. Ross has been very kind to me of late, in helping me in various little ways; and as I couldn’t well ask him to dinner when only Kate and I were in the house, I took the first opportunity after your arrival——" "And so Frank and I, after being warned that the great annoyance and vexation we should find in the place is this fellow Ross, are coolly informed that we are to meet him at dinner, and I suppose we are expected to be civil to him!" "I certainly do expect you to be civil to him," said Mary. "Oh, but it’s too bad!" he said, impatiently, and he went to the window and turned his back on her. And then he faced round again. "I wonder what Frank will think! I was almost ashamed to ask him to come here, even as it was—a small shooting, not much fishing, and the stalking merely a chance; but, all the same, he accepts; then the first thing we hear of on reaching Inverness is all about this vexation and underhand going on; and the next thing is that we are asked to meet at dinner the very person who causes all the trouble! Now, Mamie, I appeal to yourself, don’t you think it is a little too hard?" She hesitated. She began to fear she had been thoughtless—indiscreet—too much taken up with her own plans and projects. "At all events, Fred," she pleaded, "your meeting Mr. Ross at dinner can’t matter one way or the other—and you will be able to judge for yourself. To me he does not seem the kind of young man you would suspect of spending his time in poaching; in fact, as I understand it, he is looking forward to being called to the Bar, and I should think he was busier with books than with cartridges or salmon flies." "You are sure he said he would come to-night?" asked this young Fred Stanley, looking at his sister. "Yes." "Definitely promised?" "Yes." "Well, I don’t think he will." "Why?"