"You've been right, Merran," he said. "It does look now as if we were in for a spell of real summer weather. And who'd have thought it this time yesterday. If only it lasts till we get the hay in." "It will, uncle, it will. You'll see," said she. "Just you trust me a bit. I'll know, I'm sure, when it's going to change." And strange to say, no one laughed at her or her predictions. On the contrary, all of the family seemed impressed. Dirk's remarks the evening before were not forgotten. And for some time to come Merran had no reason for misgiving. Morning after morning the lovely fairy parasol flew open at her tiniest touch; morning after morning the umbrella refused to yield in even the faintest degree. So the Seaview Farm hay was mown, and dried, and stacked under the most favourable circumstances, and more than one of the neighbouring yeomen wished that they had been as quick about it as Mac and his sons, though at the first start most of the wiseacres had told them they would find it had been better to put off a while. And once it was all safe, there came a change. One warm bright morning, Merran looked up at the sky silently and then turned to her uncle. "It's going to rain," she said. "Before night it'll be raining heavily." The farmer glanced in his turn at the blue, almost cloudless heavens. "Not a bit of it," he said. "You're out for once, child. No sign whatever of rain. It's market-day, and I'm off. I've got a good bit of business to see to, to-day, at the town. No, no, the weather's all right. You'll see. I may be a trifle late, dame. Don't you be uneasy." "You'll take your overcoat, anyway, father," said his wife, who was not so unbelieving in Merran's foresight as her husband. He replied by a hearty laugh. "Overcoat," he repeated. "Bless me, what are you thinking of? Overcoat in weather like this! Why, it's as settled as can be--warm and fine, like it's been for the last week or two. Couldn't be more settled." "That's a new word to use for these parts," said Dirk quietly. Merran said nothing. The dame turned to her sons. "Which of you's going with father?" she said, adding in a whisper to Dirk, who was next her at table, "You'll see to it if you go," she said, "see that he takes his coat. Think of his rheumatism if he gets soaked." But Dirk shook his head, which was explained by the farmer's next words. "None of 'em," he said, in reply to the goodwife's enquiry. "There's too much to do at home just now for more than me to be spared. You've all got your work cut out for you--eh, boys?" Then followed some field and crops talk, and no more was said about the weather, and soon after Farmer Mac set off.