’Do you think I am asking too much from you, Ronald?’ she said. ’Indeed not a bit,’ said he promptly. ’I will play or sing for them all the night long, if you want; and I’m sure it’s much better we should do it all ourselves, instead o’ having a lot o’ grown-up folk to make the bairns shy.’ ’It is not the chairman anyway, that will make them shy—if what they say themselves is true,’ said Meenie very prettily; and she folded up her programme and put it in her pocket again. She rose; and he whistled in the dogs, as if he would return to the village. ’I thought you were taking them for a run,’ said she. ’Oh, they have been scampering about; I will go back now.’ Nor did it occur to her for a moment that she would rather not walk back to the door of her mother’s house with him. On the contrary, if she had been able to attract his notice when he passed, she would have gone down to the little garden-gate, and had this conversation with him in view of all the windows. If she wanted him to do anything for her, she never thought twice about going along to his cottage and knocking at the door; or she would, in the event of his not being there, go on to the inn and ask if any one had seen Ronald about. And so on this occasion she went along the road with him in much good-humour; praising the dogs, hoping the weather would continue fine, and altogether in high spirits over her plans for the morrow. However, they were not to part quite so pleasantly. At the small garden-gate, and evidently awaiting them, stood Mrs. Douglas; and Ronald guessed that she was in no very good temper. In truth, she seldom was. She was a doll-like little woman, rather pretty, with cold clear blue eyes, fresh-coloured cheeks, and quite silver-white hair, which was carefully curled and braided—a pretty little old lady, and one to be petted and made much of, if only she had had a little more amiability of disposition. But she was a disappointed woman. Her big good-natured husband had never fulfilled the promise of his early years, when, in a fit of romance, she married the penniless medical student whom she had met in Edinburgh. He was not disappointed at all; his life suited him well enough; he was excessively fond of his daughter Meenie, and wanted no other companion when she was about; after the hard work of making a round of professional visits in that wild district, the quiet and comfort and neatness of the little cottage at Inver-Mudal were all that he required. But it was far otherwise with the once ambitious little woman whom he had married. The shadow of the dignity of the Stuarts of Glengask still dwelt over her; and it vexed her that she had nothing with which to overawe the neighbours or to convince the passing stranger of her importance. Perhaps if she had been of commanding figure, that might have helped her, however poor her circumstances might be; as it was, being but five feet two inches in height—and rather toy-like