“Oh, you are very kind,” said Mrs. Douglas, her faint colour rising, her whole being inspired. “If gentlemen were all like you, there would be little reason for any uneasiness; but that is more than we can expect, and to trust your bairns to another’s guidance is always a very heavy thought.” “Madam, you will soon have to trust them to the guidance of husbands, there can be little doubt.” “But that’s very different: for then a parent is free of responsibility,” said the mother, rising to the occasion; “that is just the course of nature. And if they are so happy as to chance upon good, serious, God-fearing men.” “Let us hope,” said Glendochart, not without a glance at Kirsteen, “that your bonny young misses will be content with that sober denomination; but they will no doubt add for themselves, young and handsome and gay.” “No, no,” Mrs. Douglas said, led away by enthusiasm, “you will hear no such wishes out of the mouths of lassies of mine.” “Let them answer for themselves,” said Drumcarro, “they’re old enough: or maybe they will wait till they’re asked, which would be the wisest way. Glendochart, I am very sorry to name it, and if ye would take a bed with us, I would be most pleased. But if you’re determined to go to-day, I must warn ye the days are short and it’s late enough to get daylight on the ford.” “If ye would take a bed--“ Mrs. Douglas repeated. The visitor protested that he was much obliged but that he must go. “But I will take your permission to come again,” he said, “and my only fear is that you will see too much of me, for there are strong temptations here.” “Ye cannot come too often nor stay too long; and the more we see of you, the more we will be pleased,” said the mistress of the house. And the girls went out to see him mount his horse, which the boys had gone to fetch from the stable. Never was a visitor more honoured. A third person no doubt might have thought the welcome excessive and the sudden interest in so recent an acquaintance remarkable. But no one, or at least very few are likely to consider themselves and the civilities shown to them in the same light as an impartial spectator would do. It seems always natural that friends new or old should lavish civilities upon ourselves. Glendochart rode away with a glow of pleasure. He was not at all afraid of the ford, dark or light. He was as safe in his saddle as he ever had been, and had no fear of taking cold or getting damp. He feared neither rheumatism nor bronchitis. He said to himself, as he trotted steadily on, that fifty-five was the prime of life. He was a little over that golden age, but not much, nothing to count; and if really that bonny Kirsteen with her Highland bloom, and her fine spirits, and her sense--It was a long time since that tragedy of which he had told her. Perhaps, as his Grace had said, it was never too late.