“What a delightful man he is,” she proceeded--“so learned, and so clever, and so good! I don’t know that I ever met with such a man. If he were only not so weighed down with these children. Dear Mrs Ogilvy, don’t you think it is dreadful to see a poor man so burdened. If he had only some one to keep order a little and take proper care of him. My heart sinks for him whenever I go into his house.” Then there was a universal outcry, no longer capable of being controlled. “I cannot see that at all,” cried one. “He has Susie,” cried two or three together. “And where could he find a better? I wish, indeed, he was more worthy of such a daughter as that.” It was an afternoon of surprises, and of the most sensational kind, for just as the ladies of Eskholm were warming to this combat, in which so much more was meant than met the eye, and, a little flushed with the heat of the afternoon and the tea and rising temper, were turning fiery looks toward the interloper, the door opened quietly, without any preliminary bell or even knock at the door, and Susie Logan herself--Susie, in behalf of whom they were all so ready to do battle--walked quietly in. Susie herself was quite calm, perfectly fresh, though she had been walking in the hottest hour of the day,--her white straw hat giving a transparent shade to the face, her cotton dress so simple, fresh, and clean. Nobody ever managed to look so fresh and without soil of any kind as Susie, whatever she might do. There was a sudden pause again, a pause more dramatic than before, for the speakers had all been in full career, and some of them angry. Susie was very familiar at the Hewan--she was like the daughter of the house. She stopped short at the door and looked round, too much at home even to pretend that she did not see how embarrassing her appearance was. “I must have interrupted something?” she said. “Oh no, no, Susie.” “How could you interrupt anything?” “You are just the one that would know the most of it, whatever we were discussing,” the ladies hastened to say, one taking the word from another. Mrs Ogilvy held out her hand without moving. “Come in, come in,” she said; “and ye can leave the door a little open, Susie, for we’re all flushed a little with the heat and with our tea.” Mrs Ainslie was the one who gave Susan the most marked reception. She alone got up and took the girl in her arms. “How glad I should have been,” she said, “had I known I was to meet you here.” “Now, Susie, I will not have this,” said Mrs Ogilvy; “sit down and do not make yourself the principal person, my dear; for I was thinking it was me this lady was glad to see. As we are talking of marriages, I would like to know if anybody can tell me about that big lassie Thomasine that I’ve been hearing of--a creature that has a cottage and a kailyard, and not much of a head on her shoulders. Will he be a decent man?”