On a morning two days later, Christina called Mercy, rather imperiously, to get ready at once for their usual walk. She obeyed, and they set out. Christina declared she was perishing with cold, and they walked fast. By and by they saw on the road before them the two brothers walking slow; one was reading, the other listening. When they came nearer they descried in Alister's hand a manuscript volume; Ian carried an old-fashioned fowling-piece. It was a hard frost, which was perhaps the cause of Alister's leisure so early in the day. Hearing the light steps of the girls behind them, the men turned. The laird was the first to speak. The plough and the fierce bulls not there to bewilder their judgment, the young women immediately discovered their perception in the matter of breeding to be less infallible than they had imagined it: no well bred woman could for a moment doubt the man before them a gentleman--though his carriage was more courteous and more natural than is often seen in a Mayfair drawing-room, and his English, a little old-fashioned. Ian was at once more like and more unlike other people. His manner was equally courteous, but notably stiffer: he was as much at his ease, but more reserved. To use a figure, he did not step out so far to meet them. They walked on together. "You are a little earlier than usual this morning, ladies!" remarked the chief. "How do you know that, Mr. Macruadh?" rejoined Christina. "I often see you pass--and till now always at the same hour." "And yet we have never met before!" "The busy and the"--he hesitated a moment--"unbusy seldom meet," said the chief. "Why don't you say the IDLE?" suggested Christina. "Because that would be rude." "Why would it be rude? Most people, suppose, are more idle than busy!" "IDLE is a word of blame; I had no right to use it." "I should have taken you for one of those who always speak their minds!" "I hope I do when it is required, and I have any to speak." "You prefer judging with closed doors!" The chief was silent: he did not understand her. Did she want him to say he did not think them idle? or, if they were, that they were quite right? "I think it hard," resumed Christina, with a tone of injury, almost of suffering, in her voice, "that we should be friendly and open with people, and they all the time thinking of us in a way it would be rude to tell us! It is enough to make one vow never to speak to--to anybody again!" Alister turned and looked at her. What could she mean? "You can't think it hard," he said, "that people should not tell you what they think of you the moment they first see you!" "They might at least tell us what they mean by calling us idle!" "I said NOT BUSY." "Is EVERYBODY to blame that is idle?" persisted Christina. "Perhaps my brother will answer you that question," said Alister. "If my brother and I tell you honestly what we thought of you when first we saw you," said Ian, "will you tell us honestly what you thought of us?"