In Harry’s eye shines an unusual gaiety; and the confidence which sometimes deserts him, leaving him in such morose and sullen melancholy, has returned to-day. Not all natural is this renewal; for excitement, which makes Martha crush her hands together, and sends Agnes away secretly to weep, animates him with its passing gleam; but still he has command of himself, and is above Gilbert’s sneers. “What’s to become of the land? It will do famously, of course!” said Harry; “and it’s only Armstrong’s caution that makes him quiet about it. If Fairly remains in the market for a year or two, I think I will buy it, Gilbert. They say it once belonged to the estate of Allenders, and Hoolie too, which is now Sir John’s. I should like to bring the land up to what it was in the old times; and I say, Gibbie, man, you shall have a house, a regular red pill-box, with just such a surgery as will suit you; and settle down, and have an appointment at once, to doctor all my tenants. I should have quite a band of retainers if Fairly were added to Allenders.” “It’s very well _you_ got the estate, Harry,” said Gilbert, with a sneer, which poor Harry could not see. “If it had fallen into our hands, it might have remained as it was, till the end of time, and neither been improved nor increased. Thank you for the pill-box, Harry; I always knew you were a warm friend. I’ll depend on getting it, I promise you.” “And so you shall, Gilbert,” said Harry; “but I’m not quite prepared to buy Fairly now. I’ve ordered home a great stock of fine cattle. I don’t know if we’ll have room for them all; plough horses--magnificent fellows!--and the finest cows that ever were seen in the respectable Carse of Stirling; but they take a lot of money, all these things; and I should be very glad to have the harvest over.” “The harvest? But this first year, I suppose, you don’t expect very much from it?” said Gilbert. “Don’t I? Well, we’ll see,” said Harry, laughing; “but I must be economical this year, Gilbert--going on at this rate won’t do. I’ve spent a small fortune this year; to be sure, it was on the land,” said Harry, musing; “cattle, stables, byres, Armstrong and all his labourers, not to speak of the plough graith, and the harrows, and the thrashing-machine, and all the things they have bothered me about; but we must be thrifty this year.” “I believe you’ve no memorandum of the money you lent me. I must make out one for you to-night, Harry,” said Gilbert, carelessly. “Do you know how much it is?” “Not I,” said the lofty Harry; “nor do I care to know. Never mind memorandums--we know each other too well for that.”