“How is that, my lassie?” asked the Prince, coming up all flushed and breathless when the ballet was over. “It was splendid! I never went to the theatre but once, and the dancing was not half so pretty as this. What clever boys you must be!” said Rose, smiling upon her kinsmen like a little queen upon her subjects. “Ah, we're a fine lot, and that is only the beginning of our larks. We haven't got the pipes here or we'd, 'Sing for you, play for you A dulcy melody,'” answered Charlie, looking much elated at her praise. “I did not know we were Scotch; papa never said anything about it, or seemed to care about Scotland, except to have me sing the old ballads,” said Rose, beginning to feel as if she had left America behind her somewhere. “Neither did we till lately. We've been reading Scott's novels, and all of a sudden we remembered that our grandfather was a Scotchman. So we hunted up the old stories, got a bagpipe, put on our plaids, and went in, heart and soul, for the glory of the Clan. We've been at it some time now, and it's great fun. Our people like it, and I think we are a pretty canny set.” Archie said this from the other coach-step, where he had perched, while the rest climbed up before and behind to join in the chat as they rested. “I'm Fitzjames and he's Roderick Dhu, and we'll give you the broadsword combat some day. It's a great thing, you'd better believe,” added the Prince. “Yes, and you should hear Steve play the pipes. He makes 'em skirl like a good one,” cried Will from the box, eager to air the accomplishments of his race. “Mac's the fellow to hunt up the old stories and tell us how to dress right, and pick out rousing bits for us to speak and sing,” put in Geordie, saying a good word for the absent Worm. “And what do you and Will do?” asked Rose of Jamie, who sat beside her as if bound to keep her in sight till the promised gift had been handed over. “Oh, I'm the little foot-page, and do errands, and Will and Geordie are the troops when we march, and the stags when we hunt, and the traitors when we want to cut any heads off.” “They are very obliging, I'm sure,” said Rose, whereat the “utility men” beamed with modest pride and resolved to enact Wallace and Montrose as soon as possible for their cousin's special benefit. “Let's have a game of tag,” cried the Prince, swinging himself up to a beam with a sounding slap on Stevie's shoulder. Regardless of his gloves, Dandy tore after him, and the rest swarmed in every direction as if bent on breaking their necks and dislocating their joints as rapidly as possible. It was a new and astonishing spectacle to Rose, fresh from a prim boarding-school, and she watched the active lads with breathless interest, thinking their antics far superior to those of Mops, the dear departed monkey.