"He has got younger, and she has got older," was Rowena's conviction. She took Rowena downstairs, and General Macdonald rose to greet her with a bright smile of welcome. He pulled an easy-chair before the fire for her, and Mysie squatted down on the hearthrug and leant her brown curly head against her knees. "Isn't this comfy, just us three! Dad and I often wanted you when the days got dark after you left us. And do you know I've got a new name for you. I used to call you the prisoner—now I call you Miss Mignon. I learn French now, so I know a lot of fresh words!" Rowena laughed. "Oh, Flora, it is nice to hear you talk again! Tell me all you have been doing." Mysie was only too delighted to chatter away. She appealed to her father very often, and he sat for the most part listening to his small daughter, but sometimes putting in a word himself. "Dad says you live with an old lady now. Couldn't you leave her, and come and stay with us for a nice long visit? Dad and I thought you were still in India; we would have come to see you long ago, wouldn't we, Dad, if we had known you were in London." "I'm sorry to tell you that young Macintosh is leaving us," said General Macdonald. "He has been offered a Church in Edinburgh. That is one of the causes which has brought us to town. We are going to try another governess, but we have decided that she must be quite old; somebody who will be content to sit at home over the schoolroom fire whilst Mysie and I tramp the country together." "I hope you will find her," said Rowena gaily. "But I am sorry the Macintoshes are leaving. I liked them so much." Then she turned to General Macdonald. "Are you more at home now? Perhaps you have finished your work?" "It finished me unfortunately. I had a breakdown, and was ordered back to my native air. A quiet life is the only thing I'm fit for." "Oh, I'm sorry, and yet I know Mysie must be glad—and your tenants!" "That's a fact!" said Mysie, nodding her head. "And how are the Kelpies and the fairies?" Rowena inquired. Mysie began to tell her a fresh story she had heard from an old Highland woman of the fairies' existence. "How is your Highland book?" asked General Macdonald. "Oh," said Rowena with a little sigh, "I have never got any forrarder. I took it out to India with me, meaning to complete it there; but somehow I couldn't get on with it. The atmosphere was lacking, and then poor Ted died, and I haven't had the heart to touch it since." "You must finish it." "Perhaps I will. You have stirred me up afresh." Presently Mysie slipped away. "I'm going to hurry up tea," she said importantly. "Dad and I think Cousin Bel's old servants all go to bed in the afternoon. None of them can be found anywhere till tea-time, and sometimes we don't have it till half-past five!" When she had gone, General Macdonald turned to Rowena. "Why did you not answer that letter of mine?"