"Do you mean, lassie," said the General, with a sudden suspicion, lilting her face till he saw her eyes, "that you are going to accept Hay in order to keep the old home? You must not do this, for it would not . . . don't you see that I . . . could not accept this at your hands?" "You cannot prevent your daughter marrying Lord Hay if your daughter so decides, but as yet she is in doubt, very great doubt, and so I am going for a long walk on the big moor, and you . . . well, why not take lunch with the Padre at the manse?" "Hay is a straight young fellow, and Kate would supply what he wants--a dash of go, you know"--so the General was summing up the situation to his old friend; "but my girl is not to marry Hay or any other man for my sake, and that is what she thinks of doing." "Did it ever occur to you, Carnegie, that Kate had a . . . well, kindly feeling for any other man?" "Plenty of fellows tried their luck: first subalterns, then aides-de-camp, and at last commissioners; it was no easy affair to be her father," and Carnegie gave Davidson a comic look. "I used to scold her, but upon my word I don't know she was to blame, and I am certain she did not care for one of them; in fact, she laughed at them all till--well, in fact, I had to interfere." "And since you came to the Lodge"--the Doctor spoke with meaning--"besides Lord Hay?" "Why, there is just yourself"--the Doctor nodded with much appreciation--"and that Free Kirkman. . . . Davidson, do you mean that--oh, nonsense, man; she was quite angry one day when I suggested a parson. Kate has always said that was the last man she would marry." "That is an evidence she will." The General stared at the oracle, and went on: "She has made his life miserable at the Lodge with her tongue; she delighted in teasing him. Your idea is quite absurd." "Carnegie, did you ever hear the classical couplet-- "Scarting and biting Mak Scots fouk's 'ooing;" and although I admit the description applies in the first instance to milkmaids, yet there is a fair share of national character in the Carnegies." "Do you really think that Kate is in . . . has, well, a, eh, tenderness to Carmichael? it would never have occurred to me." "How would you look on Carmichael as a suitor?" "Well, if Kate is to marry--and mind you I always prepared myself for that--I would of course prefer Hay, not because he is a lord, or rich, or any snobbery of that kind--you know me better than that, Sandie--but because he 's . . . you know . . . belongs to our own set. "Don't you think there is something in that?" and the General tried to explain his honest mind, in which lived no unworthy or uncharitable thought. "I have not one word to say against Carmichael; he 's good-looking, and monstrous clever, and he has always made himself very agreeable, very, and the people swear by him in the Glen; but . . . you must understand what I mean, Davidson," and the General was in despair.