"Mr. Ross!" said Mary impatiently. "What does Mr. Ross know about such things? Why, it is necessary for your housekeeping, Martha!—and, besides, you must take it to please me; and it will remind you of our visit until we come back again—for I hope to come back and see you some day." "Yes, yes, and soon, mem," said the grateful Martha, who had been forced into compliance. "And I will be showing it to Mr. Ross, mem——" "Good-bye, then, Martha, and thank you for all your kindness," said Mary, as she was going. "No, no, mem, it is my thanks and service to you, mem," said Martha, and she timidly extended her hand. Mary had learnt the ways of this country. She shook hands with the old dame; and said good-bye again; and went her way. Then once more over the shining sea, with the light northerly breeze providing them a steady and continuous passage. Mary turned once or twice to look at the now receding island. "I suppose you get very much attached to a solitary home like that?" she said, absently. "But I like a few days on the mainland very well," said he, with much cheerfulness, "if there is anything to be done. When do you expect your photographer?" "To-morrow or next day." "I will wait for him," said he, promptly. "That will be very kind of you," said she; "for what would pictures of Lochgarra be to Mrs. Armour if you were not in them?" "And Saturday is Miss Stanley’s birthday," put in Käthchen. "You should stay over for that." "Saturday?" said he. "Oh, indeed. Oh, really." And then he added: "Why, they must get up a big bonfire on the top of Meall-na-Fearn." "No, no," said Mary, with an odd kind of look; "that is not for me. I must wait a little for anything of that sort. It must come spontaneously, if ever it comes." And then she suddenly changed her tone. "Well, Mr. Ross, since you are remaining on the mainland for a day or two, I hope you will come and see what I have been doing. I have started a few things——" "I know more about your work than you think," said he. "But I should be glad to go with you." "And then perhaps the people won’t treat me as a stranger," she said, with a touch of injury in her tone. "It is very ungrateful of them if they do," said he, with some emphasis. And so it came about, on the next day, that Lochgarra again beheld the spectacle of Young Donald of Heimra acting as escort to the English lady, while she was taking him about and showing him all she was doing or trying to do. And to Käthchen it was as clear as daylight that those people began to be a great deal more friendly—more willing to answer questions—more sympathetic in their looks. Why, when the two girls returned home that evening, they found the hall-door open, and Barbara in the act of lifting up two huge stenlock that had been laid on the stone slab. "Why, what’s this, Barbara?" Mary inquired.