"Won’t you come along and look over her to-morrow morning, if the weather is fine?" said he, quickly. "Would you like to go, Käthchen?" asked Mary, with a little shyness. "Oh, I should be delighted," answered the useful Käthchen, divining what was wanted of her. "If you are sure it is not troubling you," said Mary to her departing guest. "Why, it will give me the greatest possible pleasure," said he. "Come as early as ever you like. It will be quite an event: it is many a day since I had the honour of receiving visitors on the little _Sirène_." "Then about eleven," said Mary; and therewith he took his leave. When they got back to the drawing-room, Kate Glendinning threw herself into the chair she had recently quitted. "Well, I think he is simply splendid!" said she, as if she had some difficulty in finding words to express her enthusiasm. "That’s all I can say—just splendid. He is so curiously straightforward, outspoken, independent; and yet all the time he is so careful to treat you with marked respect. If his eyes laugh at you, it is in such a good-natured way that you can’t take offence. And he never agrees with you for courtesy’s sake—never—oh, not a bit; but yet, as I say, to you he is always so respectful—in so many little ways—didn’t you notice? Ah, well, Mamie," continued the observant but nevertheless cautious-tongued Käthchen, "it’s a curious world, the way things happen in it. Do you remember, when you first came here, your distress about the destruction of Castle Heimra? You said nothing could ever atone for that; and I was of your opinion then. But I am not so sure now. I should not be so surprised, after all, if there were to be some atonement for the pulling down of Castle Heimra." Mary did not answer: she had gone to put some Japanese water-colours into a large portfolio. Nor could the expression of her face be seen; if there was any indignant colour there, any proud, maidenly reserve and resentment, it was invisible; for she remained standing by the portfolio for some time, turning over the leaves. CHAPTER IV. SLOW BUT SURE. The next morning was the very perfection of a September morning, clear, and crisp, and still; there was just enough wind to lift away the lazy blue smoke from the cottage chimneys, and to stir the smooth waters of the bay with a shimmering ripple. And here was the carriage in front of Lochgarra House, waiting for the two young ladies to come down. "Käthchen," said Mary, in an undertone, as they took their seats and were driven off, "supposing I should get a chance of speaking to Mr. Ross privately—for a minute or two—do you think I should venture to apologise to him for Fred’s outrageous conduct? What would you do if you were in my place?