"Coining money off the sheep--eh, Donald? It’s you farmers who haul in the shekels in these days. What with taxes and reduced rents and what not, there’s little left for the poor landlord. You needn’t shake your head, my man. We’ll thrash it out another day, however. But you can’t get away from the fact that we can’t afford to live in our own house." Donald pulled his forelock and passed on with a mysterious Gaelic direction to the sheep-dog, which was attended with magical results. He was neither convinced nor deceived by Malcolm’s small hints. He knew him of yore; also Elspeth, having the most perfect faith in her big, silent husband, had not failed to confide to him the true story of the Americans’ coming to Achree. A few steps further on Malcolm saw in the distance two ladies, walking together, with shepherds’ crooks in their bare hands and with no hats upon their heads. Their bearing and carriage at once riveted his keen interest. Wherever there was a petticoat Malcolm Mackinnon was interested, and these ladies were evidently strangers to the Glen. One was very tall and slender, the other short in stature but neatly built, and both wore most workman-like country attire with a grace that he had never seen excelled. As he came nearer the face of the taller of the two attracted him still more. It was exquisitely beautiful, being chiselled on pure classical lines, and the skin was soft and clear, the colour so pale and delicate, without giving the smallest suggestion of ill-health, that he had never seen anything like it. The abundant dark hair, slightly waved in front and worn simply parted over her ears, gave a look of Madonna-like simplicity to the face, which, to Malcolm’s eyes, seemed most alluring. The other was more ordinary, though her face had a certain piquant charm. He wondered who they were and whether he dared make any remark as they passed, but they solved the difficulty by bidding him a pleasant good morning. Instantly his cap was in his hand, and he would have stopped, but they immediately passed on, evidently slightly surprised at his intention to detain them. He waited only until they were over the brow of the next little hill, and then he deliberately entered Donald Maclure’s pasture and crept back after them in shadow of the few scanty trees and shrubs that lined the road--and all just to watch where they would go! From the next hillock he could see the gate of Achree in the hollow, and, having waited sufficiently long, smoking another cigarette the while, he had the satisfaction of seeing them turn in at the Lodge. Then did an immense content steal over Malcolm Mackinnon. With two such charming inmates at Achree, life which had promised to be like a desert, suddenly began to blossom like the rose.