"Shags, you show your mistress an example of cheerful equanimity of soul! You are just as ready to wag your tail when the day is sodden and dreary as when the sun shines out; and as it will be my fate to be here through the very darkest, wettest months in the year, I am a poor wisp of a creature to be beaten down by one rainy week in June. It must not and shall not happen again, Shags! My universe does not begin and end with succulent luxury. Oh, Shags, you villain! I know what you're asking me! We'll have the window open, and then you will be free to gambol outside." She rang the bell. Shags was waiting by the window expectantly, and when Janet opened the glass doors out he bounded. The air was sweet and fresh; the scent of a sweetbrier bush outside made Rowena's pulses beat with joy. She gazed out upon her green lawn. Shags went round it, sniffing at an old-fashioned flower-border. He unearthed a snail, turned it over with his nose in disgust, then made for a pert tom-tit strutting up and down the gravel path. The tom-tit flew away derisively, and Shags next examined with great interest a long tuft of grass. A frog leaped out. It was the first one he had seen, and he backed away from it in fright. Rowena watched him. Then the light on the opposite hills brought a gleam of delight to her eyes. It was so alluring, so exquisite, so varied in its movement and colour! Granny came in later to inquire how she was getting on. "Feeding my soul, Granny." "Your soul wants bonnier feedin' than a' that." Granny was deeply religious. Rowena was not. "Now you are not to make me discontented! I have a soul that wants beauty, and that will not be satisfied without it." "I reckon there be mair beauty in the Creator than in His works." "Granny, how do you like the new minister? Have you heard him preach?" "Oh, aye—I went to kirk this Sabbath back." "And does he preach well?" "He does that, mem. His heart leapeth into his e'en wi' earnestness o' purpose an' persuasion. Eh, if ye cud get across in the wee boatie!" "I can't, Granny. He will have to come and preach to me. He's a remarkably good-looking boy. I should like to see his heart leaping. Didn't you know he was the minister when you first asked me to give him shelter?" "Deed an' no, mem, for 'twas in oilskins he were an' his mither was so spry in rinnin' ower to the hoos, that I fair speired she were just a lassie." "I like them both. I told them to come over again soon." "'Twill be mair company ye'll be gettin' nex' month," said Grannie comfortingly. "The lodges will be fillin' oop, an' Sir Robert Fraser be openin' his hoos nex' Tuesday!"