withal—everything seemed against her. It was but little use her endeavouring to assume a majestic manner when her appearance was somehow suggestive of a glass case; and the sharpness of her tongue, which was considerable, seemed to be but little heeded even in her own house, for both her husband and her daughter were persons of an easy good humour, and rather inclined to pet her in spite of herself. ’Good morning, Mrs. Douglas,’ Ronald said respectfully, and he raised his cap as they drew near. ’Good morning, Mr. Strang,’ she said, with much precision, and scarcely glancing at him. She turned to Meenie. ’Williamina, how often have I told you to shut the gate after you when you go out?’ she said sharply. ’Here has the cow been in again.’ ’It cannot do much harm at this time of the year,’ Meenie said lightly. ’I suppose if I ask you to shut the gate that is enough? Where have you been? Idling, I suppose. Have you written to Lady Stuart to thank her for the Birthday Book?’ It seemed to Ronald (who wished to get away, but could scarcely leave without some civil word of parting) that she referred to Lady Stuart in an unmistakably clear tone. She appeared to take no notice of Ronald’s presence, but she allowed him to hear that there was such a person as Lady Stuart in existence. ’Why, mother, it only came yesterday, and I haven’t looked over it yet,’ Meenie said. ’I think when her ladyship sends you a present,’ observed the little woman, with severe dignity, ’the least you can do is to write and thank her at once. There are many who would be glad of the chance. Go in and write the letter now.’ ’Very well, mother,’ said Meenie, with perfect equanimity; and then she called ’Good morning, Ronald!’ and went indoors. What was he to do to pacify this imperious little dame? As a gamekeeper, he knew but the one way. ’Would a hare or two, or a brace of ptarmigan be of any use to you, Mrs. Douglas?’ said he. ’Indeed,’ she answered, with much dignity, ’we have not had much game of any kind of late, for at Glengask they do not shoot any of the deer after Christmas.’ This intimation that her cousin, Sir Alexander, was the owner of a deer-forest might have succeeded with anybody else. But alas! this young man was a keeper, and very well he knew that there was no forest at all at Glengask, though occasionally in October they might come across a stag that had been driven forth from the herd, or they might find two or three strayed hinds in the woods later on; while, if Mrs. Douglas had but even one haunch sent her in the year—say at Christmas—he considered she got a very fair share of whatever venison was going at Glengask. But of course he said nothing of all this.