"Of course they wouldn't have been fairy pipes, if they hadn't been able to change. Fairies always play tricks like that. Did he never get his bonnet back again? I expect the fairies used it to sleep in. It would keep them warm on a wet night. Do tell me some more stories." So Rowena produced all the fairy stories she could think of, and Mysie drank them in like water. One day she arrived over in a breathless state of excitement. "Dad is coming to-morrow. He has been ill since the war, and he's been from one hospital to another; and now he's well again, only he wants to get away from people, and have a rest and quiet. He told Nan so in a letter. She's to get the house ready, and she's not to tell anyone that he's coming." "And here have you told me!" "So I have! What a pity! But you're in your prison. I call you the prisoner of Tarlie. You won't tell anybody, will you? It's to be a secret. And I've quite made up my mind to get into his house and see him one day. I shan't mind if he points a pistol at me!" "At his own child! Is he a pirate king?" "No—but he's a Macdonald." Here the child threw her curls back and raised her head almost haughtily. "Angus tells me stories of all that the Macdonalds have said and done. He is one himself, so he kens well. And they never let anyone defy them or get the better of them, and Dad doesn't want to see me. He has said it when Nan has asked him. He would like me swept away!" Here she threw out her small arms tragically. "But I mean to know him. I shall make him speak to me. I ought to be living in his house, not with Nan." Rowena looked at her with wonder. "You are growing," she said; "but you are still a baby in years, and your father knows it. Do you want to be sent to school? I suppose by rights you ought to be there now. I can't think how you have escaped the school authorities!" "But I told you; I learn lessons with the schoolmaster." "Oh, so you do; I had forgotten. Well, I hope you and your father will have a happy meeting." With a little wistfulness in her eyes, Mysie went down on her knees beside Rowena's couch. Putting her arms round her neck she whispered: "Do you think it could happen that he might love me?" "I think it more than likely," said Rowena, kissing her as she spoke. And then Mysie sprang up and danced out into the sunshine. "I have ridden over to tell you, and now I am going back to Nan; for I am going to help her get his house ready."