“Is’t true he’s gaun to take Allender Mains into his ain hands?” said Geordie. “I hear the land’s to bear threple crops when the laird’s new manager comes. I’ll no say but it might if it was weel lookit after; and I would like to say a word to him mysel about that new harrow and better graith for the beasts. I’m saying, auld man--do ye think Allenders is sure to haud at it, if he begins wi’ the farm?” “Man, he delved and dibbled in the garden ae night for a haill hour!” exclaimed the applauding Dragon. Geordie shook his head. “I’m no sae sure that’s a good sign. And then, ye see, the farming takes siller. I would like to ken if it’s true what they say, uncle, that this lad was naething but a puir lad afore he wan to Allenders; but if he hasna siller o’ his ain, he ne’er can carry on at this rate. Ony way, it’s a comfort the land maun aye be tilled, and that ane gets anes bread whaever’s maister. But here’s Mysie. Guid day to ye, auld man.” “And I’ll away in, Missie, to see about my kail,” said Dragon. “It’s eleven in the day by the sun. Ye should gang to Mysie, and get a piece yoursel.” The old man shuffled away, and Lettie, swinging round the thick trunk of the oak, suddenly came upon Rose. The child’s eyes were glistening, dark and wistful, and there was a cloud of the old vague gloom and discouragement upon her face. “What way do they ask if Harry has siller, Rose?” asked Lettie, anxiously; “what way do they say he hasna enough? Was Allenders no a grand fortune when Harry got it? and what way is it no a grand fortune now?” “I cannot tell, Lettie,” said Rose, sadly. “Come away, and we’ll go in, and you’ll read a book to Martha and me.” Lettie put her hand into her sister’s quietly, and they went in together. Martha was still at her window--still working with her old silent assiduity--and Rose drew a chair to the opposite side of the little table, and, greatly subdued and sobered, took up out of Martha’s basket, a piece of embroidery, and began to “open” it as busily as of yore. This work was still regularly supplied to Martha by Uncle Sandy in Ayr. It was a satisfaction to her to pursue those unknown labours day by day; and Rose, too, began with a kind of desperate energy--as if such a pittance as she could earn could have any effect upon the fortunes of Harry; but still it was a satisfaction to do what she could. Katie Calder came in from the garden, flushed and merry, and could not comprehend the quietness which had fallen upon Rose and her little playfellow, though Lettie’s changing moods ceased to surprise her constant companion; so Katie resumed her pilgrimages between Martha’s room, and the dressmaker’s, and began her doll’s bonnet with great success and _éclat_; while Violet again seated on the carpet, solemnly commenced to read “Hydrotaphia” to her quite uninterested auditors; but finding this would not do, suddenly threw it down, and began to tell them Dragon’s story.