Wat and Will slunk off without a word. They did not so much as smile at the manner of the gladness of women. Even when they were safe in the square, oak-panelled hall, they seemed to have little to say to each other, except as to the crops on Gordonstoun and concerning the planting of trees at Will's new house of Afton. Presently the women came back, whereupon, for no obvious reason, Wat and Will immediately plucked up heart and became suddenly voluble. "Wat," said Kate, daring him to a refusal with her eyes, "I am going over to Earlstoun to-morrow to see the baby." "What!" cried her husband, "why not fetch it here to-night? I will lead an expedition to bring it this very moment, and Scarlett and Will shall be my officers." "_It_, indeed, you--you _man_!" cried Kate, contemptuously. "Why, you could not be trusted with him." "We might break it," said Will Gordon, quietly, "or it might even cry, and then what should we do? Better is it that we should all return to the Earlstoun to-morrow. Sandy and Jean have gone to Afton for a while." And so it was arranged, perhaps because of the last-mentioned fact. But Kate cried out impetuously, after a silence of five minutes: "I do not believe that I can wait till to-morrow to see the lovely thing." "No, nor I either!" said Maisie, grievingly. She let her eyes rest a moment reproachfully on her husband, to convey to him that it was all his fault. The two men looked at each other. Their glances of mutual sympathy said each to each: "This it is to be wedded." "Well," said Wat, more cheerfully, like a man who knows it is vain to fight against his destiny, "let us all go there together to-night." The women sprang up and clapped their hands. "Scarlett," cried Kate, "ferry us across in the boat at once." "What may be the great hurry?" he said. "The trouts are frying fine." "We are going back to Earlstoun," said Kate, with decision in her tone. "Is the auld hoose on fire, or what's a' the red-hot haste?" called Scarlett, from the kitchen, where he was superintending the sprinkling of oatmeal on the trouts--a delicate operation. "Man, the bairn may be greeting!" said Will Gordon; whereat Wat Gordon suddenly laughed aloud--and then just judgment seemed about to descend upon them. But their several wives looked at each other to decide which should be the executioner. "After all," said the four eyes, as they took counsel, "is it worth it?" It was enough that they were _men_--nothing could be expected of that breed when it came to a matter of the finer feelings. Jean Gordon came anxiously panting up the stairs. "You will be the better o' your suppers afore ye gang ony sic roads at this time of night," she said, determinedly. So in a trice the trouts were brought in, and Scarlett sat down along with Lochinvar and his guests, for such was the sweet and honorable custom of the tower.