"Mr. Smith was so kind as to bring me a cup of tea." "What," he says again—and he is obviously greatly delighted. "Of his own making? I did not think he had as much gumption." "I beg your pardon, sir?" said she. She had been startled by the whistling of a curlew close by, and had not heard him distinctly. "I said he was a smart lad," said the Laird, unblushingly. "Oh, ay, a good lad; ye will not find many better lads than Howard. Will I tell ye a secret?" "Well, sir—if you like," said she. There was a mysterious, but humorous look about the Laird; and he spoke in a whisper. "It is not good sometimes for young folk to know what is in store for them. But I mean to give him Denny-mains. Whish! Not a word. I’ll surprise him some day." "He ought to be very grateful to you, sir," was her answer. "That he is—that he is," said the Laird; "he’s an obedient lad. And I should not wonder if he had Denny-mains long before he expects it; though I must have my crust of bread, ye know. It would be a fine occupation for him, looking after the estate; and what is the use of his living in London, and swallowing smoke and fog? I can assure ye that the air at Denny-mains, though it’s no far from Glasgow, is as pure as it is in this very Loch Speliv." "Oh, indeed, sir." They had another couple of turns in silence. "Ye’re verra fond of sailing," says the Laird. "I am now," she says. "But I was very much afraid before I came; I have suffered so terribly in crossing the Channel. Somehow one never thinks of being ill here—with nice clean cabins—and no engines throbbing——" "I meant that ye like well enough to go sailing about these places?" "Oh yes," says she. "When shall I ever have such a beautiful holiday, again?" The Laird laughed a little to himself. Then he said with a business-like air: "I have been thinking that, when my nephew came to Denny-mains, I would buy a yacht for him, that he could keep down the Clyde somewhere—at Gourock, or Kilmun, or Dunoon, maybe. It is a splendid ground for yachting—a splendid! Ye have never been through the Kyles of Bute?" "Oh, yes, sir; I have been through them in the steamer." "Ay, but a yacht; wouldn’t that be better? And I am no sure I would not advise him to have a steam-yacht—ye are so much more independent of wind and tide; and I’m thinking ye could get a verra good little steam-yacht for 3,000*l*." "Oh, indeed." "A great deal depends on the steward," he continues, seriously. "A good steward that does not touch drink, is jist worth anything. If I could get a first-class man, I would not mind giving him two pounds a week, with his clothes and his keep, while the yacht was being used; and I would not let him away in the winter—no, no. Ye could employ him at Denny-mains, as a butler-creature, or something like that." She did not notice the peculiarity of the little pronoun: if she had, how could she have imagined that the Laird was really addressing himself to her?