The sisters listened with quiet pleasure; they did not always understand Lettie, in her reveries and dreamings, and she was naturally shy of speech; but Martha had already been startled on more than one occasion by the strange intuitive perceptions of her youngest “bairn,” and she said with an affectionate smile when the story ended. “You will be like Lady Violet, Lettie--you will make ballads too.” A burning flush crossed the child’s face, and she did not speak for some time. Then she looked up to say: “Dragon says Harry’s no a canny name for the Lairds of Allenders, and there never has been one, Martha, from Lady Violet’s time till now.” A cloud passed over Martha’s face--a very slight fantastic thing was enough at this time to leave a permanent shadow. And it was a week before Harry returned; and he came back sullen, gloomy, and exhausted, with nothing to tell them, as he said--nor had he seen Charteris except once, and that on the first day he spent in Edinburgh. Poor Harry! he had not yet expended a farthing on his farming operations, and he dared not think how little remained of Miss Jean’s thousand pounds. CHAPTER XVII. The wind blows east, the wind blows west, And then comes both sun and rain. CARLYLE. THE autumn passed with many ordinary vicissitudes, with times of peacefulness, and times of trouble; and in the house of Allenders another baby son was born. It was just when Harry was beginning the business of his farm, and after a time of great abstraction and excitement, during which he had visited Edinburgh once or twice, and was evidently occupied with some business which he could not confide to any one at home. But Harry’s mind had been lightened before his baby came; the farm-manager had arrived; Geordie, the nephew of the feeble Dragon, had spoken his mind to Allenders about the new harrow and the plough-graith, and had been graciously heard--so graciously, that Geordie immediately decided on an affirmative answer to the question which agitated the whole population of Maidlin Cross, and ever after maintained that “the laird _had_ siller o’ his ain, bye the lands, and that he was just living free and open-handed, as a gentleman should live.” It was one of Harry’s sunshine times; and many a heart wished kindly wishes for him, as he stood in Maidlin Church, his young wife in her graceful weakness, and his sisters seated by his side, and held up his child to receive the baptismal sprinkling, and to be named with the name of the Lord. “He has the kindliest face I ever saw--ane’s heart warms to the lad--blessings on him,” said an old woman on the pulpit stairs; and Martha’s heart swelled with the echoed blessing.