“You,” said Drumcarro hastily, “ye were never an example. Let them speak for themselves. I’ve heard all the story from beginning to end. They’re weary of their life here, and they think if they went to this folly, they might maybe each get a man to deliver them.” “Father!” cried Kirsteen springing to her feet, with blazing eyes. To her who knew better, who had not only the pride of her young womanhood to make that suggestion terrible, but the secret in her heart which made it blasphemy--there was something intolerable in the words and laugh and jibe, which roused her mother to a wondering and tremulous confidence, and made Mary’s heart bound with anticipated delight. But no notice was taken of Kirsteen’s outcry. The laird’s harsh laugh drew forth a tremulous accompaniment, which was half nervous astonishment and half a desire to please him, from his more subservient womankind. “Well, Drumcarro,” said his wife timidly, “it would just be the course of nature; and I’m sure if it was men that would make them happy, it’s no me that would ever say them nay.” “You!” said her husband again. “Ye would not say nay to a goose if ye saw him waddlin’ ben. It’s not to your judgment I’m meaning to trust. What’s Kirsteen after there, with her red head and her e’en on fire? Sit down on your chair and keep silent if ye have nothing pleasant to say. I’m not a man for weirdless nonsense and promiscuous dancing and good money thrown away on idle feasts and useless claes. But if there’s a serious meaning at the bottom of it, that’s just another matter. Eelen, I suppose, that’s in all the folly of the place, and well known to the Duke and his family, as she has a good right to be from her name, will understand all about it, and how to put them forth and set them out to the best advantage. It must be well done, if it’s done at all.” “There’s a great many things that they will want, Drumcarro; none of mine are fit to wear, and the fashion’s all changed since my time. They will want----” “Oh, mother, not half what you think; I’ve my cairngorms that Aunt Mary left me. And Kirsteen, she has a very white skin that needs nothing. It’s just a piece of muslin for our gowns----” “Eh, me,” said Mrs. Douglas, “when I mind all my bonny dyes, and my pearlins and ribbons, and high-heeled shoes, and my fan as long as your arm; and washes for my skin and cushions for my hair!” She sat up in her chair forgetting her weakness, a colour rising in her pale cheeks, her spirit rising to the unaccustomed delightful anticipation which was half regret and recollection, so that for once in her life she forgot her husband and escaped from his power. “Ah!” she exclaimed again with a little outcry of pain, “if I had but thought upon the time I might have lasses of my ain and keepit them for my bairns----” “Ye may make yourself easy on that point,” said Drumcarro, pushing back the chair he had taken, “for ye never had a thing but was rubbish, nothing fit for a daughter of mine.”