In a few minutes Rowena heard the sound of the men's voices and a clear treble between them. Then suddenly her window, which was half shut, swung open, and a child with sunny brown curls falling over her shoulders, dashed in. "Granny Mactavish, I've come to tea with you!" She stopped short at the sight of Rowena on her couch. She was in a kilt which was wringing wet and dripped on the ground as she moved. But she held herself squarely and proudly, then doffed her bonnet like a boy. "I didn't know there was anybody here." "Come and speak to me," said Rowena, with her sunshiny smile. "I am not an old lady, only a prisoner." The child looked up at her with bright interested eyes. "Who put you in prison?" "An old man I call Niddy-Noddy." "Oh, what a lovely name! Tell me about him. What's he like?" "He speaks like this—" Rowena drew in her lips till her mouth looked as if she had no teeth—she lowered her brows fiercely, and then nodded her head up and down very wisely. "This child is wet. Take her clothes off, put her to bed, and a hot basin of bread-and-milk and a good sleep will prevent a chill." The child's peal of delighted laughter rang through the room. "Is that what he would say to me? Why, rain and water is nothing important to me! I get drowned nearly, over and over again." "All the same you are making pools over my carpet. I must suggest that you have your kilt dried and then come and have tea with me. You can tell me then what possessed you to take a boat out on a day like this." "I'll go to Granny in the kitchen." She darted out as quickly and lightly as a bird. Rowena was always fond of children, and she felt strangely drawn to this little person. There was something in her small finely-cut face and blazing brown eyes which was very attractive. "Why," said Rowena to herself, "she must be General Macdonald's neglected child! She speaks very good English. I had no idea she was so big." It was some little time before Mysie returned, and when she did so she was wrapped round in one of Granny's red flannel petticoats. She seemed quite proud of her attire. "My kilt is steaming like a kettle! It's filling the kitchen with its smoke! Granny has put it before the fire." She was dancing round the room as she spoke; then caught sight of Shags, and sitting down on the floor, she took him on her lap and cuddled him. "He is a bonny thing!" she cried. "Do you know you might have been drowned this afternoon?" Rowena said gravely. "If I hadn't seen you through my glass and sent the boat out, what would you have done?" Mysie looked up rather carelessly. "Nan tells me I have nine lives like a cat. I am thinking Angus would have come after me. He's a Macdonald, you know, and loves Dad. It was really the oars' fault, they weren't able to beat through the waves prop'ly—and then they hurt my hands awful!" She held up two little blistered palms.