Then they went in and had their mid-day meal together, once more attended by Beenie, with a world of meaning in every glance. “They are just twa bonnie doos crooning on a branch,” she said to Katrin, as she came down stairs for another dish. “Doos!” cried Katrin; “they have a very good will to their meat, that’s a’ that I can say.” “They are like twa bonnie squirrels in a wood,” cried Beenie, at her next dive into the kitchen, “givin’ aye a look the one to the ither.” “Squirrels, my certy! but I wouldna like to gether the nits for them a’ the year through,” said Katrin. But when Beenie came back for the pudding, and declared that “they were like twa bonnie fishes side by side in the burn, the ane mair silvery and golden than the other,” Katrin’s amazement and ridicule, and the excitement underneath, found vent in a shriek which brought Dougal hurrying in from the barn. “Losh, woman! are ye burnt in the fire, or have ye spilt the boiling pot upon ye, or what have ye done?” “I’ll gie you the boiling pot yourself, and a dishclout to pin to your tail, and that will learn ye to ask fule questions!” Katrin said. CHAPTER XVIII Ronald walked into Kinloch-Rugas after the plentiful lunch upon which Katrin had made so many remarks. His head was buzzing and his bosom thrilling with the excitement natural at that period of existence. He loved Lily--as well as he was capable of loving--with all the mingled sentiment and passion, the emotions high and low, the very human and half divine, which are involved in that condition of mind. He was a healthy, vigorous, and in no way vicious young man. If he had not the highest ideal, he had not at all the lowered standard of a man whose mind has been debased by evil communications. He was, in his way, a true lover, at the climax of life which is attained by a bridegroom. His thoughts were set to a kind of rhythmic measure of “Lily, Lily,” as he walked swiftly and strongly down the long road toward the village. If his mind had been laid bare by a touch of the angel’s spear, it would not, I fear, have satisfied Lily, nor any one who loved her, but it sufficiently satisfied himself. He did not want to look beyond the next step, which, he had convinced himself, was the right step to take; what was to follow was, he tried to assure himself, in the providence of God; or, if that was too serious (but Ronald was a serious man, willingly conceding to God the right to influence human affairs), it was open to all the developments, chances even, if you like to say so, of natural events. Who could say what would happen on the morrow? In the meantime a reasonable man’s concern was with the events of the day. And though he was not a highly strung person by nature, he was to-day all lyrical, and thrilling with the emotions of a bridegroom. He was not unworthy of the position. His very foot acknowledged that thrill, and struck the ground in measure, as if the iron strings of frost had been those of a harp.