"I rather think he will," said Rowena gravely. "Of course Miss Falconer hasn't got a Dad to look after and to love; but your Dad will want you with him, I am sure. And by the time you will have lived with him a few more years, you will love him so much that you won't want to leave him."
"Perhaps he would like to come with me in my airship, but I should have to be captain. Miss Falconer says all men are worn out, and women are getting fresher and stronger every day. Dad is rather tired, you know; he says he is worn out. But I shan't be, and when I grow big I shall be stronger than him in every way. Isn't that splendid to think of?"
Rowena felt a blank dismay settle upon her as she listened to the child. She wondered how her father would like this style of teaching. Mysie was full of the superiority of the female sex and could talk of nothing else. It was quite a new idea to her, and she had seized hold of it with the greatest avidity. And Rowena felt it was impossible to contradict her governess's statements, for fear of upsetting her authority.
"Well," she said, "what do you really want to ask me?"
Mysie pursed her lips into a round ball.
"I want you to ask Dad to give me a dear little flying machine for my birthday. I really shan't care for anything else now. Miss Falconer told me girls can fly just as well as men. They can do everything better, she says. And I want to learn as soon and as fast as I can."
"That is a very big ask," said Rowena. "I think Dad would say you must grow up first, and by the time you have grown-up, Flora, the air machine will have grown less dangerous, and more easy to manage in every way."
"Ah, but I don't like easy things, and Miss Falconer says men have always given the easiest softest jobs to women, and they won't take them now."
"But you are not a woman, only a little girl. Look at Shags, he has been thumping his tail on the ground for ever so long to attract your attention. He hates these grave grown-up talks. And so do I. We won't grow up, Flora, just yet. I like to pretend I'm just your age. And I'm going to ask you to come out on the loch with me now. I said I would go this afternoon. And I'm going to pretend we have been shipwrecked, and are on a raft searching for land."
In a moment Mysie's knitted brow had cleared. She clapped her hands joyfully.
"Hurra! And I'll row you—and you'll be dying for water, and we daren't drink the sea all round us. And then I'll be desp'rate and drink a lot and go mad in the boat! Oh, it will be fun! Come on! Shall I call Granny's Colin to take you out?"
Rowena was almost sorry she had proposed such a game, but she trusted to her authority and to Colin's stolid good sense to be able to curb Mysie's high spirits when in the boat.
They had a very enjoyable time on the loch that afternoon. And Rowena had the satisfaction of seeing that for the time the problem of the woman in the world no longer troubled the curly head of her little friend. When Mysie finally left her, she said:
"Oh, I wish Miss Falconer would make up games and play with me; but she goes away directly lessons are over. She thinks everything but lessons is waste of time. I'm glad I only have her half a day!"
A few days later General Macdonald came over.
He looked more cheerful than usual, and began to tell Rowena of some new books he had read in town, and which he thought might interest her. He always took the greatest interest in what she was doing, and rarely mentioned his own affairs till other topics of conversation were finished.
"I suppose Mysie's in the seventh heaven of delight at having you back again?" Rowena said presently.
He smiled.
"I have her in my dressing-room every morning when she is dressed, to read me ten verses out of the Bible. I don't keep her long. She was reading about the centurion and our Lord. We had a talk about 'under authority' and what it means. She had some wild idea in her head that men and women when full grown were not under any authority, that no law need touch them. I fancy I made her understand a little more about that matter than she has ever done yet."
"You think she is getting on with Miss Falconer?"
"Excellently. I had a most interesting talk with Miss Falconer yesterday. It was raining, so she stayed to lunch; and whilst we were having coffee in the library afterwards, she spoke to me about the child's religious training. She seemed to grasp my ideas at once. I should say she was a sincere Christian woman, and I'm thankful to think the child's training is in her hands."
Rowena was dumb.
"She's a most interesting talker," he went on; "she quite held me spellbound. And young though she is, she seems to have had tremendous experience of life. She told me a little of her family history. I'm so glad you know her. She seems a lonely little soul, and has met with little sympathy through her life."
"I have only seen her once. She is a great talker, so I learnt a lot about her different views. She was absolutely frank with me. Very broad-minded, I should say. She has dipped into many creeds."
"Perhaps you did not get into such deep waters as we did. She agreed with my views entirely, and means conscientiously to train the child's spiritual part as well as her intellectual."
Rowena began to feel bored. She turned the conversation into other channels.
"It is none of my business," she assured herself when the visit was over. "And I'm not religious myself. She seems so adaptable that I dare say she will train Mysie in a mechanical way as he wishes her to be trained. He must discover for himself whether she is training her rightly. She is not my child, and I shan't bother my head about her."
But it was one thing to say, another to act, and Rowena's mind was much exercised over Mysie's education. She thought about it day and night.
"Mysie will come to loggerheads with her father sooner or later and then there will be disaster. Miss Falconer is sowing seeds of rebellion against authority in that small mind. I wonder how it will end? Surely the child herself will repeat some of her governess's speeches to her father."
But that was just what Mysie did not seem to do. She threw her small self into the affairs of the moment. When lessons were over, her fishing or boating or riding with her father were of paramount importance; lessons and Miss Falconer were forgotten. Only the enjoyment of the moment remained.
Gradually Rowena became aware that Miss Falconer was impressing the father, as well as the child. Her strong personality could not but be felt in the laird's house. And yet, to the General, she seemed a type of all that was feminine and sweet. One day they all came over to tea with Rowena. Jeannie Falconer was at her very best. Bright and sympathetic, not self-assertive, rather appealing to the General for his opinion upon subjects, and by her interested silence making him believe that she was an appreciative listener. Mysie was unusually quiet. Rowena thought that she seemed a little afraid of her governess. Once, when General Macdonald took Miss Falconer round the garden, Mysie crept very close to Rowena's couch.
"We don't see each other often now," she said wistfully. "Miss Falconer tells Dad I oughtn't to go about the country alone. And if he doesn't come over, I can't. Dad is very nice to go about with, but he doesn't quite understand like you do. Why do you understand so well?"
"Understand what, you whipper-snapper?"
"Oh, how I feel sometimes."
"I remember how I used to feel when I was as little as you," said Rowena rather gravely. "I was a wild bit of a girl myself. But you're a happy child to have such a father."
"I do worship him!" Mysie said fervently. "But I can't talk to him about lessons as I do you. He says I'm a happy child to have such a good governess. But Miss Falconer isn't always good to me."
She held out one small hand to Rowena, palm upwards.
"See that red mark; she hits me with the ruler when I make awful mistakes. And she makes me cry when she laughs at Prince Charlie—she likes me to cry, I know she does."
"Oh, Flora darling, I'm sure she cannot."
"But she does. I don't talk to her now, for I won't be laughed at!"
There was a vindictive tone in her voice that made Rowena draw her close to her. And then Mysie, always so self-controlled, surprised Rowena by beginning to sob.
Clasping her round the neck she cried:
"Oh, get Dad to send me to school. I'd like it better than Miss Falconer. She's too heavy upon me. I feel I can't rise up. I think, do you know, that she stamps upon my soul inside. She always seems to know what I'm thinking, and then she mocks me!"
No more could be said, for Mysie's father returned. She and her governess walked home first, General Macdonald was going on to a farm. When they had gone Rowena suddenly resolved to speak.
"General Macdonald, do you think that Mysie is happy with Miss Falconer?"
"Certainly I do. Do you doubt it?"
"The child seems to have lost her joyous spirits. From Miss Falconer's talk to me, I should think her more fitted for older girls than a child of Mysie's age and sensibilities. She doesn't understand imaginative children. She seems to me, if I may criticize, an admirable machine, capable of managing and controlling girls en masse, but having no love for individuals."
"You astonish me! She seems so very sympathetic. Of course Mysie was let run wild too long. I think she has improved wonderfully with Miss Falconer: much quieter and more tractable."
"Oh, I love originality," said Rowena with a snap in her tone. "I don't like a child modelled according to pattern. Win Mysie's confidence. Let her pour out her soul to you, for I assure you she won't pour it out to Miss Falconer. And it is bad for a child to be secretive and reserved."
"I am very sorry you do not like Miss Falconer," said General Macdonald somewhat stiffly. "I can tell from your tone that you do not. She has my full confidence and regard."
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And Rowena threw prudence to the winds.
"I don't trust her. I think she adapts herself to anybody, and does not let you know her real opinions, which are not what you think them to be. I wouldn't let her have the handling of a little niece of mine for all the world!"
"My dear Miss Arbuthnot!" General Macdonald was gazing at her perturbedly. "Don't you think you may be mistaken in your estimate of her? I have had more opportunity than you of judging. You have only seen her once or twice. They say women never understand each other. And yet she speaks so warmly of you. Thinks you are so patient under affliction. She told me she is torn by pity when she looks at you!"
Rowena gave a little snort, then began to laugh.
"I dare say I seem a brute! I will shut up. But I love Mysie, she's a darling, and I hate seeing her spirits broken. Get her to talk to you about her lessons. Ask her what Miss Falconer talks to her about. You know half an hour of her lessons every day consists in a monologue of Miss Falconer upon topical subjects and the present state of the world. Afterwards Mysie has to write out as much as she can remember of it. Get her to show you some of her papers. You will judge then whether Miss Falconer is suitable for a little child of nine. And do forgive my interference, and be friends with me still."
Rowena held out her hand, and spoke in her most winning tone.
General Macdonald took it as he rose to leave her.
"You have given me food for thought," he said; "but I think and hope you are mistaken."
He went, and Rowena turned to Shags.
"Oh, aren't men great simple blundering darlings? How easily they can be taken in! We certainly are their superiors in diplomacy and deceit! Shags, I have become a mischief-maker, and I am not a bit sorry for what I have done!"
"Unlike Philosophy, the Gospel has an ideal Life to offer."Jowett.
IT was some time before Rowena saw either Mysie or her father again. Mrs. Macintosh came over to see her one afternoon, and began speaking about them.
"I am glad to think that Miss Falconer has been such a success," she said; "and really people begin to think that she may one day change her role from governess to mother. Forgive this gossip. But the laird seems greatly taken with her, and for myself I would like to see him married to some good woman. Every house wants a mistress, especially where there are children. Robert and I went to lunch one day last week; the laird is becoming a bit more sociable, neighbours tell us; but Miss Falconer was there and did the honours of the table very prettily. I wish you and she were a little nearer to one another. I suppose you do not see much of her?"
"No, she is otherwise engaged," said Rowena.
"She and Robert found plenty to say. Robert loves an argument, and he does not see eye to eye with her on woman suffrage. The laird seemed quite surprised to hear her views, but I thought it was quite touching the apologetic way in which she kept turning to him."
"'I know this will shock you,' she kept saying, 'but these are the views I was taught at college.'"
"'Then Mysie shall never go to college,' said the laird, in that stern tone of his. And Miss Falconer smiled up at him."
"'Ah well,' she said, 'as we grow older we see the error of our ways. I am not so keen as I was on these questions. The war has altered many things.' I was glad to hear her speak so. And the laird seemed to watch every word and movement of hers. I should like to hear that they are engaged."
"You are a regular matchmaker," laughed Rowena. "I do not think General Macdonald a marrying man. He told me once that matrimony was always a risk, and a little of it went a long way."
"A very unchivalrous speech to make to a lady," said Mrs. Macintosh in a tone of disapproval.
Rowena laughed gaily.
"He is not a man who makes pretty speeches," she said. When her visitor went, she subsided into grave thought. Shags tried to attract her attention, and failed. At last she roused herself.
"My dear young woman," she apostrophized herself; "at your time of life, you ought to expect anything and everything. They say any woman can marry a man if she sets her heart and will upon it. And if it will mean giving up some of her misguided but cherished principles it will be a very good thing for the fair falcon! As long as her talons are clipped and she is not allowed to hurt my little Mysie, I don't care. Men must take care of themselves. But Hugh Macdonald is just the man to blunder into another unsatisfactory marriage!"
She said these words aloud, but her eyes had lost their sparkle, and when Granny came to help her into the house she said:
"You look tired out, mem. Are you feeling your back again?"
"I am feeling rotten," said Rowena with a short laugh; "but don't for pity's sake take any notice of me. Life is a very crooked stick, and it's quite impossible to bend it the way one wants to. So the only thing is to smile at it, and adjust oneself to the crookedness."
A few days afterwards, Rowena went out in her punt. It was a still grey day, rather sultry and oppressive, and she longed to feel the coolness of the water round her Colin took her out a good way upon the loch, and for a wonder a boat came up to him with Angus in it, and a stranger. Rowena guessed at once it must be the man to whom her brother had let the fishing and shooting. Her first instinct was to let them pass her without a word or sign of recognition; but Angus prevented that.
"An' hoo are ye this day, mem?" he said, pulling in his oars and beaming upon her with his fatherly smile. "'Tis Mr. Crawford I will be takin' to Abertarlie."
Rowena acknowledged the introduction by a bow.
"You have taken my brother's shooting," she said in her clear pleasant voice. "I hope you are enjoying it. You must excuse my getting up. I am quite an invalid at present. I heard the guns going yesterday. Did you have good sport?"
"Splendid!" was the quick enthusiastic reply. "I had thought of calling upon you, Miss Arbuthnot, as I hear you have a wonderful book on the deer forests about here, and I wondered if I might ask for the loan of it. Did we not meet some years ago at Cowes?"
"Yes, at the regatta," said Rowena. "I thought I had seen you before. You were with the Radcliffe-Murrays. Of course you may have the book; I will send it over to you. Are you staying at 'The Antlers' in Abertarlie?"
"Yes, they do one first-rate! I have two cousins with me and a nephew. Don't trouble to send. I am often past your way, and I will call in for it, if I may."
"I will look it out and have it ready for you."
"May I say how sorry I am for your accident? It was out hunting, was it not? I heard about it."
"Yes, it's rotten luck, but thank goodness I'm only temporarily laid up. I have to be a year on my back. I mustn't keep you. Good-bye."
"There be a storm on the way," said Angus a little anxiously; "you'd best get back, mem."
"All right, Angus. We can't afford to run risks with this craft." She laughed as she spoke. Angus plied his oars in one direction, and Colin in another, but before they came to the shore the storm burst upon them. Rowena watched the waves lash round her with serenity, but Colin got agitated, and seemed to lose his nerve.
"Och, mem, whatever will happen?" he ejaculated.
"I feel like a trussed pig!" said Rowena. "But if you really can't manage, I can, at a pinch, sit up and take an oar. I must! I don't want to be drowned."
She had hardly said the words before a hurricane of wind swept down upon them, and the next moment the punt was engulfed in the waves, and Rowena and Colin were in the water. With wonderful presence of mind Rowena threw out her arms and floated on her back. Colin, completely losing his head, made for the punt instead of for Rowena.
But help was at hand! A boat shot out from the Arbuthnot's landing-stage and pulled rapidly towards them. In a very few minutes Rowena was rescued. She was hardly conscious as to how she got into the boat, for the waves had washed over her more than once, and she was in a very exhausted state. She only felt strong arms lift her, and a voice she seemed to know said:
"Thank God I'm in time!"
The next thing that she knew was finding herself in her own bed, and Granny bending over her.
"Eh, mem, the Lord be praised! Ye are safe an' soun'! An' noo it's just this wee drappie o' whusky ye'll be takin'."
Rowena meekly obeyed, then looked up with her irresistible smile.
"Oh, Granny, I'm not dead yet! I shall live to continue to plague you, but it was a near shave. Who came out to us?"
"Why, sure it was the laird! Him an' me saw ye caught, and never shall I forget the sight of your boat in the ragin' wind and waves! The laird, he set his teeth and wi'out a wor-r-rd tore at the boat an' was after ye! An' when he put ye oot o' his ar-rms, he said, 'Mrs. Mactavish, she must live—there are not mony like her.' He helped me get ye to bed an' rubbed and chafed ye, an' noo he's awa' to get the doctor—an is pretty well soaked to his skin. That Colin be a puir creater! Niver will ye be gain' oot wi' him agen, mem—niver! He cam' back wi' his heid fair mazed—an' all he cud cry was, 'Wae's me—the young leddy be drownded and 'twill be I which have doon it!'"
Rowena smiled but could not speak.
Presently she made the effort.
"The laird must have his clothes dried. See to him, Granny!"
"Deid an' I will, if so be he gives me a chance!"
It was not very long before the doctor arrived, but Rowena hearing that General Macdonald had returned with him, sent him out a message of thanks and begged him to let Granny attend to him. Then she saw the doctor.
"Don't examine my poor back to-night. I don't believe I am any the worse. The salt water may have strengthened it. I did not strain it in any way."
And it was marvellous that she was not seriously the worse for her accident. She kept to her bed for three or four days, then was moved out to her couch, but the doctor forbade any more loch expeditions.
"The weather is too treacherous, be content to lie by the side of it; the open-air is good for you, but don't attempt the punt again."
"Oh," groaned Rowena, "instead of widening my borders, I have to narrow them!"
She felt very low and depressed for a day, then recovered her spirits. General Macdonald, coming to inquire for her, found her outside on the terrace, looking rather white, but with her usual bright smile.
"Well," he said, "I thought it was all up with you the other day, and now I hear you are none the worse for your spill."
"Not a bit worse," said Rowena, "but I have been thinking rather hard. What a bit of luck you came this way! I don't believe Colin would have ever towed me to shore. He's a good swimmer, but his one idea was to get hold of the punt and then come for me. And I don't think I should have lasted out long enough."
"I don't believe in luck," said the General gravely. "I had no intention of coming over to see you that afternoon. I was reading in my study and I came across a bit that I liked in one of my old books, and suddenly thought I would like to share it with you. But when I got out into the hall Mysie begged me to take her upon the moors. I very nearly did; but a strong persistent sense of wanting to get to you made me send her away disconsolate, and I came off post haste. I had only just arrived when the squall came on, and we saw your punt capsize from the terrace here. Don't you think I was sent to you?"
"By whom? By my guardian angel, I suppose, if I have one. If you had not come and I had gone down, I wonder where I should be to-day?"
There was a silence, then Rowena looked straight at him with shining eyes.
"Well, honestly, I didn't feel quite ready to leave this world. I thought it out as I floated on the water, and I think I prayed the first fervent prayer in my life. I wanted to be spared. I wanted it desperately. I suppose the love of life is hard to kill, because I am leading a very useless existence at present, and there's no particular reason for me to be spared, when so many others are taken."
"Your prayer was answered."
"Yes, and I am digging into my Bible furiously; I have read it for an hour at a time. I want to discover the secret that the early Christians had, and which enabled them to go through fire and water unmoved. The Epistles are interesting me. I told you what a heathen I was, didn't I? What a high ideal we are supposed to have of our purpose in this world. It staggers me; I don't like feeling small, but there's no doubt the Bible does that."
"Infinitesimally small," said General Macdonald. "But you've read the paradox: 'When I am weak then I am strong.'"
"I don't understand half I read."
She looked at him with a mixture of shame and amusement.
"I wish you would preach me a dear little sermon, General Macdonald. I know you could do it quite as well as our young minister. I never get to church."
"No; I could never preach," said General Macdonald seriously; "but I think I can tell you the secret of the early Christians' faith and endurance. They 'endured as seeing Him Who is invisible,' we are told. Our Master's last words were: 'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.'"
"I think," said Rowena very slowly with downcast eyes, "the result of my Bible study is that I want to have Him with me."
General Macdonald looked at her with a sudden brightness in his eyes. He murmured to himself, but just loud enough for her to hear: "'But one thing is needful—she hath chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her.'"
There was silence again.
Suddenly Rowena brushed her hand lightly across her eyes, but not before the General had seen some glittering drops on the ends of her long lashes.
"And now we'll leave this uninteresting subject of myself," she said abruptly. "Tell me about Mysie."
"What shall I tell you? She is making good progress with her lessons, I hope. Do you remember your words about Miss Falconer? I am thankful to find that you are mistaken in your estimate of her. She has a very high ideal of woman's position in the world, and is trying to train Mysie accordingly. I want her to grow up an honourable, pure, and devout woman, and I believe Miss Falconer will be influential in making her this. I gathered that you did not care about Miss Falconer, but if you would have a serious and confidential talk with her about the deep things of life, you would find her a real help to you, I am sure. She is going away for a fortnight or three weeks to her relations, the Grants. When she comes back I hope you will try to see something of her."
Rowena looked at him now with a mocking light in her eyes. Her soft serious mood was over.
"Miss Falconer and I are antipathetic," she said. "If she and I were on a desert island, I would live on the farthest edge of the island away from her. But I am glad you are pleased with her. Only if she spoils my dear Mysie, I shall never forgive her, nor you for not discovering it."
"I wish you would explain yourself."
"I hardly ever see Mysie now," said Rowena irrelevantly. "Will you, as it is holiday time, let her come over and spend a day with me?"
"She will be delighted. I will send her to-morrow, for I have to go down to Glasgow on business, and it may keep me away a night."
"Then let her sleep here. Granny will look after her, and of course you may trust me not to say a word of criticism on the subject of her governess."
So it was settled. Just before he took his leave, as he was shaking hands with her, he said:
"We could ill have spared you." Then he added with a whimsical smile: "It's odd at my time of life to be blessed with two women friends like yourself and Miss Falconer. Since my poor wife's death I have kept away from women, but having a girl child to bring up does make me value the advice and counsel of your sex."
"Please don't apologize for knowing me," said Rowena gaily. "I value your friendship whether for the sake of the child or not."
And when he was gone she caught up Shags and laughed till she shook.
"You dear, ridiculous man! I hope we shan't turn you into an old woman between us. You look quite careworn when you talk about your child! I think I shall advise some shooting and golf for a change."
Mysie appeared the next day in high spirits at the thought of a day and a night away from home.
"You haven't forgotten me?" Rowena asked, as the little arms went round her neck and hugged her.
"I couldn't never forget you. You're my best friend, but Miss Falconer simply won't let me come and see you. She throws excuses in the way, and she told me I bored you, and that it wasn't fair to worry you so. Do I bore you? Do I worry you? Now I know I don't. Your eyes tell me I don't! I don't like Miss Falconer's eyes—they never laugh, only look round the corner at you. But she's gone away, and I'm pretending that she's not in the world at all, and never coming back."
"We won't mention her. And now, little Flora, how shall we map out the day? I'm unfortunately forbidden to go on the loch again, isn't that a trial?"
"Oh, it's ripping anyhow with you! I love to talk and play with Shags. And there will be the meals. I love meals away from home, they're so lovely. And oh! I do love and adore you when you call me Flora!"
Another hug followed, then in more sober tones Mysie said:
"Dad came back and told me how nearly drownded you were! I told him if you went dead, I would never smile again. I couldn't! My heart would be broken right in two. And when your eyes twinkle and smile at me as they are doing now, it gives me a lump of joy in my chest. Do you know the feeling?"
"I know you're a darling little bundle of emotion and Highland sensitiveness!" said Rowena. "And as I'm very much alive, we won't talk of that disaster of mine any more. Tell me all you've been doing since we last met."
Mysie began at once.
"We won't talk of the lessons—or of Miss Falconer. I'm rather afraid of her, you know; Angus says she's wanting in soul. What does that mean? She says Angus is an ignorant fool. I'll tell you about the other day. I got in a scrape—it was the day Miss Falconer left. I went riding up the moor with Angus and then I got away from him—and then I saw far-away two darling deer—and I tied my pony up and I crept up to them like Angus does—only he calls it stalking. And I didn't know there were other people creeping about, until I saw a man with a gun. And then I knew he meant to shoot them, and my blood boiled up, and I clapped my hands and screamed, and the deer scampered away, but the man came out of the bushes with his gillie, and they both swore at me. They were frightfully angry, and the man said if I didn't make tracks for home he'd lay a stick across my back. And fancy, he called me a boy! I stood still and just told him who I was. It made him rather surprised. I told Dad about it, and he said it was a wicked thing of me to do, but I said it was wicked to shoot the poor deer—I love them all. I had a little tame deer once before its horns grew."
So Mysie chatted on, and Rowena lay and listened. Then she read her some of her legends and folk-lore which she was collecting for her book. Once started on that subject, Mysie's tongue went faster than ever. The day was a complete success. But when Mysie was on her way to bed, she said:
"I wish—I wish you were my governess! Don't you think you could be, when you get up from your back and walk again? I am sure you know quite as much as Miss Falconer does, and a good deal more. Don't be angry, like Dad, if I tell you quite privately, that I hate and detest and abhor her! I went down to the tom na hurisch and besought the fairies to come and take her one night. There's a little rowan tree outside her window, and I'm afraid that keeps her safe. Angus won't hear of it being cut down, as he says it will bring us bad luck—I want bad luck to be brought to Miss Falconer!"
"Oh, hush! Now I really am shocked, and must protest!" said Rowena. "Never wish ill-luck to come to anyone, even to your worst foe. It isn't generous or right. And this is holiday time: we are not going to think about lessons or about Miss Falconer."
Mysie shook her curls a little defiantly.
"Dad doesn't know what I know, or else he wouldn't like her so much."
"Good night, little Flora; pleasant dreams!"
And Mysie said no more, but went obediently to bed.
"Yet to be loved makes not to love again;Not at my years, however it hold in youth."Tennyson.
MYSIE stayed with Rowena till the afternoon of the following day, and very unwillingly departed. She had hardly gone before another visitor was announced, and this was Mr. Crawford whom Rowena had met on the loch with Angus. He was full of her accident, and told her they had hardly got to the shore themselves before the storm burst upon them.
"Upon my honour, I'd half a mind to row back and look for your remains," he said. "We felt convinced you would be upset, and then we saw a small boat go to your rescue. Donald was beside himself till he heard you were none the worse for your immersion. It was risky being upon the loch a day like that."
"Yes, that pleasure is over," said Rowena regretfully. "I shall no longer be able to enjoy my punt, for it is now a forbidden pastime. If General Macdonald had not happened to be at hand, it would have been all up with me."
"Oh, he's the laird of Abertarlie, isn't he? I was dining at the Grants' yesterday evening, and he was under discussion. A Miss Falconer amused us very much. It seems she is teaching a small girl of his—more as a pastime than anything else. She's one of these modern women—you should have heard her take him off! He has those old-fashioned mid-Victorian ideas of women, and wants his small daughter patterned after their style. Miss Falconer is the wrong sort of person to do that. She's an awfully good sort. Have you met her?"
"Yes," said Rowena; "but I have not seen much of her."
"How do you get through your time? You must be bored stiff, aren't you?"
"No," said Rowena, smiling at him. "I lie here and watch the eternal patience of the hills, and get a little of the spirit of Nature to solace me. Look over the loch now, did you ever see such a play of light and shade? I have a never-ending panorama passing before my eyes. I am Highland to my heart's core. You don't know the magic of our lochs and glens. In your eyes they are only places where you can fish and shoot; to us they are something more."
"I believe that," said Mr. Crawford sincerely. "There's a look in the eyes of the Highland folk that is peculiar to their part of the country. They gaze at their burns and their braes—like a lad gazes at his first love!"
Rowena nodded. "And then there's such history behind them all. You see our moors lying peacefully under the summer sunshine; we see them alive, and bristling with conflicts and battles—the glens trodden by refugees fleeing from death, the caves sheltering heroes, the lochs full of legends and romance. We feel the atmosphere of the past impregnating that of the present, and we love every blade of grass that grows! To you the moors hold deer and grouse; beyond that you do not go!"
"We are just matter-of-fact butchers!" said Mr. Crawford with a laugh. "Now will you, in spite of my inferiority to a Highlander, bestow upon me that book on your deer forests? You promised me the loan of it."
"It is here waiting for you," said Rowena, putting out her hand upon a small parcel which lay on her book table by her side, "but I should say you get little time for reading now."
"That's a fact—but I like a smoke and read after dinner."
They chatted away in very friendly fashion, and when Mr. Crawford departed he determined he would come again very soon, for all men liked Rowena, and not even her invalidism could make her uninteresting to them.
General Macdonald made his appearance very soon again.
"I am being drawn into society now against my will," he said; "the Grants insist upon my going to dine with them next week. Lady Grant met me out to-day and won't take a refusal. She and Miss Falconer came in and had some tea. I don't often entertain visitors, but they are an exception. My small girl did not show up. She seems to disapprove of Miss Falconer visiting her in the holidays, and though I sent her a message to make her appearance, I saw her flying across the lawn, and she has not come back when I left. I must punish her for disobedience. I am not going to have my orders set aside. But punishments are not in my line. Give me advice."
"Oh, don't ask me," said Rowena; "you will think me too indulgent. I should give Mysie a good scolding and tell her whether she liked a thing or not, do it she must, if you wish her to. A talk is sometimes more efficacious than a punishment. Children are reasonable creatures. When I was small, punishments were too common! We hardly took any notice of them—Ted and I!"
"Yes," said General Macdonald slowly; "but I find she often worsts me in a talk. She is apt to be argumentative, and then I lose my temper. I've a hot one, as I dare say you know; and I'm not accustomed to deal with children."
"I want to read you a lovely legend about your house," said Rowena, trying to turn the subject. "I got it out of a book Mr. Macintosh gave me."
The General's brow cleared. He and Rowena were soon absorbed in their local history. It was about six o'clock, and a slight mist was sweeping down from the moor. Rowena was in her green room, as the air was damp and cold. Suddenly they heard a pony gallop along the drive outside, and the next moment Mysie dashed open the door in a state of wild excitement: She looked greatly taken aback at the sight of her father, but in her impulsive fashion threw herself upon Rowena.
"I've come to you to tell you! I had to! I won't believe it, and you must stop it, my darling prisoner, oh, you'll know how to!"
"What is the matter?" asked Rowena, laughing, yet regarding the child with some sympathy. "Have you heard any more guns shooting your beloved stags?"
"Oh, it's a hundred times worse!"
"I wonder where you have been, since I summoned you to tea?" said General Macdonald rather severely.
Mysie stood up, twisting her small hands together in agony. "I knewed you would be angry," she said; "but I just felt I couldn't be smiling at Miss Falconer. I was tired out of her. And she always says she hates grown-ups and children mixed together. Oh, Dad, don't be angry but if it's true, I shall run away from you. I shall go back to Nan, and if she won't have me, I shall hunt for a water kelpie and let him drown me, or I shall go round and round the fairies' hill till they take me in."
"Tell us what the trouble is."
Rowena had drawn the hot excited child to her, and was holding one of her little hands in hers. Then Mysie burst into a passion of tears.
"Dad is going to marry Miss Falconer. They all say so. She's coming to live with us for ever! And—b-b-b-be my stepmother! Oh, stop it, stop it, won't you? Miss Falconer says women can always manage men; do try to manage Dad and make him not do it. I can't live in the house with Miss Falconer for my stepmother. I told you how I hate her! I do! I do! She tries to make me cry, so that she can laugh at me."
Rowena looked across at General Macdonald rather helplessly. But if Mysie was excited, he became more so. Rising impatiently from his chair, with a warm flush in his thin brown cheeks and blazing eyes, he thundered forth:
"Stop this foolish nonsense at once, child! Who has been putting such a preposterous idea into your head?"
"They've all been saying it. Mrs. Dalziel and Angus, and even Nan; and Miss Falconer is always saying what she would do if she was mistress! I can't bear to think of it!"
"How did you come here?" he asked hotly.
"On the pony. Dad, don't be angry with me. I'm sorry I disobeyed you. It was Elsie who was doing my hair; she said of course I was to go down and see my new mamma, and I wouldn't believe her, and then I went to Mrs. Dalziel in the kitchen, and she said that folks were saying so, and I rushed away to Nan and Angus, and they've been saying it too; and then I went away into the woods and I was miser-rubble; and then I thought I'd come to my darling prisoner, and she might prevent you doing it!"
"Now look here! You go straight back on your pony and tell Mrs. Dalziel that if I hear she is circulating such mischievous gossip and lies, she will leave my service at once. I have no intention of marrying. And then go off to Angus and tell him and his wife the same. Off with you at once!"
A thunder-cloud was on his brow, but Mysie stopped sobbing, and then she flung herself on her father and wound her small arms round him.
"I'll be good, I'll be good—if you never give me a mother! Oh, I'm so very, very glad you aren't going to marry her."
Her father turned sharply away from her.
When she had disappeared, he paced the room in angry silence. Rowena waited. Like Mysie, the relief of realizing her fears were groundless, brought strange content to her soul. At last she spoke.
"Well, we seem to have had a storm over nothing."
"It's not a trivial matter to me," said the General sharply. "It's unspeakably annoying. I, who have kept away from women ever since my poor wife's death until I came here, and to find that I can't be friendly with my child's governess without this confounded gossip starting! It's outrageous! Marry a girl like that! A girl who is young enough to be my daughter!"
"Perhaps you praised her to others as much as you did to me," said Rowena demurely. "You should be more cautious. I am sorry for the annoyance it has caused you, but no harm has been done. Mysie will forget it."
"I shall send the child to school and shut up the house."
"And run away? Don't do that! Ignore such gossip—but I do advise you to change your governess."
"I shall never have another. I am more annoyed than I can say. I have a great mind to send Mrs. Dalziel straight away. She ought to be thoroughly ashamed of herself. An elderly respectable woman like her, to chatter of me and my governess to my child! It's abominable—iniquitous!"
Rowena waited till he had calmed down.
Presently he turned to her with a rueful face.
"And now you see how I lose my temper! What am I to do? Am I not to show any kindly feeling for any woman that comes across my path without having it said that I mean to marry her?"
Rowena began to laugh. She could not help it.
"I beg your pardon. I know it is no laughing matter to you; I do sometimes realize that men are the sheep, and women the wolves. And it is rather awkward being asked to counsel you. Because you know that I have an aversion to Miss Falconer, so that my views must be prejudiced. Of course, my advice is to decline any further educational help from her. She does not consider herself your governess, but a friend who loves teaching so much that she is taking Mysie in hand out of sheer kindness of heart. I hope you will dine with the Grants next week; then you will see Miss Falconer from another point of view."
"Lady Grant told me I ought to be very grateful to her," General Macdonald said more quietly. "I suppose I have acted like a fool. However, no more governesses for me; Mysie shall go to a boarding school at once."
Then he stopped in his restless pacing up and down the room. Looking at Rowena with a fierce frown he said:
"May I ask if you have heard these ridiculous reports? It would have been only kind if you had warned me."
"Oh, nobody likes to repeat gossip. I am not a mischief-maker," said Rowena a little impatiently. "I did hear something after Miss Falconer had presided over a luncheon-party at your house; but people always like to make up matches. Romance appeals to all of us. Take it lightly."
"No one can say I have said or done anything to warrant such talk," the General said huffily. "Well, I shan't be good company for you to-day, so I had better go. I'll shut up the house and go abroad. Why, the next thing will be that they will gossip over my coming to see you!"
"Oh, I think I am safe, as an invalid," said Rowena, looking at him with her laughing eyes.
General Macdonald met her glance, and smiled in spite of himself. Then he held out his hand.
"Good-bye for the present."
"And don't go and pack up and flee from gossip," said Rowena; "for you get that everywhere. It's best to have a thick skin and ignore it. My love to Mysie, and don't vent your anger upon her."
"You do think me a brute!"
"No, only a helpless man."
Rowena was left with the last word. Shags immediately received her confidence when the General was gone.
"The fair falcon is beaten, Shags! And I'm enough of a heathen still to rejoice in her discomfiture. I hate humbug and insincerity. Thank goodness Mysie will escape out of her clutches. What a storm in a tea-cup! But I shall miss his visits if he goes. He wants a wife to laugh at him and rub off his angles—to give him a little petting, and make him realize that he is a very human man, and not a cast-iron statue to be worshipped, but never to be approached at close quarters! I wish he had a little more humour! I wonder if he would be boring if one lived with him!"
She was rather surprised in two days' time to get a letter from General Macdonald, the first that she had ever received.
"DEAR MISS ARBUTHNOT,—""I thought you would like to know how things are going with us. I quite accidentally met Miss Falconer out the other day. She had called at the house for a book of hers, and we met as she was returning to the Grants. I suppose I ought to be glad the matter has been taken out of my hands. She began to talk about Mysie at once, then said that her people wanted her to give up teaching—that Lady Grant did not like her living alone, and was trying to persuade her to leave the cottage and come and stay with them for a long visit. I told her I quite agreed with Lady Grant, and that I could easily make other plans for Mysie. It seemed so easy—the whole thing—that I was surprised when she seemed so disconcerted; said she was afraid I was not satisfied with her. I told her I thought she had done wonders with Mysie, and so she has in the way of teaching her manners and self-control. We parted friends, I hope. I told her I should be sending Mysie to school.""Mysie herself is a radiant piece of goods at present. I suppose she looks forward to a long holiday, but she does not seem to have liked Miss Falconer. I cannot fathom the reason of her dislike. I am having an old pal of mine to stay for a fortnight's shooting. May I bring him over to see you one day?""Yours,""HUGH MACDONALD."
A few days after this Rowena was rather surprised to get a visit from Miss Falconer. She arrived in the Grants' car.
"I took the opportunity of coming to see you," Miss Falconer explained, "as Lady Grant wanted to call upon the Macintoshes at Abertarlie. It will be a good-bye visit. I am leaving this part. I only meant to stay in my cottage for the summer, and of course I never meant to take up my job of teaching beyond that time, though the dear general seemed to think that I was a fixture here. I flatter myself that even in these couple of months I have made an impression upon his wild little tomboy. She has brains. It is a pity they are not going to be developed in the right way."
"You don't think that school will develop them?"
"Not a private school—but don't let us talk of education. I am off it. Do you know Mr. Crawford? He has taken your brother's shooting. We have seen a great deal of each other lately. He is always at the Grants'. I don't know why I tell you this, but you're a sympathetic person. Yesterday we came to the conclusion that we liked each other, and I am engaged."
"My congratulations," said Rowena warmly. "I always felt that marriage was more your vocation than teaching. I know him, and should think he's a very good sort."
"Why do you think marriage my vocation?"
"Because you were so bent on persuading me that you were superior to its attractions," said Rowena, laughing, "and those sort of natures are the first to succumb."
Miss Falconer did not look very pleased.
"We are agreed on the equalities of the sexes," she said. "He is not narrow and old-fashioned and prejudiced, like that dear friend of yours, Mysie's father. Of all dull, commonplace, uninteresting men, he takes the cake, as they say! I'm thankful to have severed all connection with him."
"He is simple-minded," said Rowena quietly, "and easily taken in. He does not understand diplomacy."
The glance that Jeannie Falconer flashed towards her was not friendly.
"Oh," she said, "how I pity you! This Highland life would kill me. I have had only a few months of it, but it has sapped all the energy out of me already. I have told Herbert that London must be our permanent home, and he quite agrees. I am thankful that he is English to the core."
She did not stay much longer. Rowena was amused by her visit, but her heart felt as light as a feather. Never till now had she realized how thoroughly she had believed in the gossip of the neighbourhood.
"But none shall more regretful leaveThese waters and these hills than I,Or distant fonder dream how eveOr dawn is painting wave and sky."Whittier.
NOTHING would deter General Macdonald from placing Mysie at school. He came over to Rowena with a most cheerful face, and introduced his friend, a Colonel Cavanagh, to her. He was an Irishman, and Rowena could see at once that his cheery personality had already done the laird good.
"Cavanagh knows of a first-rate school in Edinburgh, where his own daughters are, and I have written to the lady, and she says she can take Mysie at once. The term will be just beginning."
"Then it is all arranged?" queried Rowena. "I hope you have asked her to be lenient to the poor little wild bird when first she is caged?"
"Oh," said Colonel Cavanagh, with a hearty laugh; "Miss Gordon has had experience with wild birds. My girls were as wild as hawks when first she took them; but she has a way with her, and they're quite devoted to her now."
"That sounds nice! Mysie can be led easier than driven."
"Miss Arbuthnot has seen me do the heavy father so often that she speaks from experience," said the General.
"No," said Rowena, "you have got Mysie's affection. Nothing matters when that is won."
Then General Macdonald told her he was going over to Ireland with his friend for a visit.
"And we'll send him back ten years younger," said the cheery Colonel. "He wants to laugh more and think less. We're not given to deep thinking in Ireland."
They did not stay long. As they walked away from the house, Colonel Cavanagh said:
"I'd soon lose my heart to that woman. Why, hasn't she bucked you up, old chap? The very look of her does one good. It's amazing how a woman on her back can get so much fun out of life."
"I'm very fond of Miss Arbuthnot," said General Macdonald, in his simple way. "We have been good chums since I came back, and my small daughter adores her."
Colonel Cavanagh looked at his friend with a spark of amusement in his eye.
"Ah, well, she's not dangerous, down on her back. If she were up and about, it would be a different matter."
General Macdonald said nothing. He would not be drawn. Mysie came over to wish Rowena good-bye; and there were some tears shed.
"Of course, I'm not a baby," she said valiantly; "and Dad says I shall be home for Christmas, and he'll be here too, but I feel as if I'm going to be a prisoner now. And if it gets beyond bearing, I shall run away. I know I shall, and then what will happen?"
"You will be caught and sent back again. I wouldn't do that if I were you. Only cowards run away from disagreeables. A Flora Macdonald never would!"
Mysie tossed her curls back and snorted like a thoroughbred horse.
"Of course I couldn't be a coward. Didn't you say Flora Macdonald went to school in Edinburgh?"
"Yes, I believe so, but I don't know where."
"How wonderful if it was my school she went to!" Rowena laughed.
"I imagine it was," she said.
And Mysie's wonderful eyes grew dreamy and soft, as she thought of her heroine.
She went off fairly happy; but Rowena felt, when both father and child had gone, as if she were bereft of all her friends. If it had not been for Mrs. Macintosh and her son, these autumn months would have been very lonely. The lodges and shooting boxes were soon vacated, and the country round became deserted; wet and storms set in. But Rowena's spirits were never down for long. She was deep in her Highland book, and her bright wood fire and cosy comfort all round her prevented her from feeling the inclemency of the weather. She wrote continually to her brother, and her Indian letters were the delight of her heart. Occasionally the young doctor arrived over to see her. Shags was her constant companion, and Granny was always ready to come in for a "crack."
Snow fell towards the end of November, and Rowena lay looking out at the fairy-like scene with keen enjoyment.
Mrs. Macintosh paid her a visit before it went. She arrived over in a sledge.
"You brave intrepid woman," said Rowena, when she saw her. "How can you venture out in such weather?"
"I am very hardy. It is a real treat to have a talk with you, so don't pity me. I only wish we were nearer you. It is an unnatural life for you to live. You are so young to be so much alone."
"But I feel very matured and old," said Rowena, "especially since my dear Mysie has left me. A child keeps one young."
"Do you have good accounts of her?"
"We write to each other once a fortnight; I believe she is getting on, but a child never expresses her feelings as we should."
"Her father has shut up his house for the winter?"
"I fancy he will come back for Mysie's holidays."
"I was so thankful that my match did not come off! I heard several things afterwards about Miss Falconer that surprised me very much. But I am sure she was in love with him."
Rowena laughed; and Mrs. Macintosh said hurriedly:
"I know you think me an old gossip! But in the wilds here we can't help taking an interest in our neighbours. And I would like to see the laird married again; he is not an old man, and he wants some one to brighten him up, and make him younger!"
"I think he's having a good time over in Ireland," said Rowena. "Perhaps he'll bring back an Irish bride. He is in a house full of young people. Colonel Cavanagh has an old-fashioned family, five daughters and three boys, and three of his daughters have finished schooling and are at home."
"I wish I had a daughter," said Mrs. Macintosh somewhat wistfully. "Robert is a good son to me, but his heart and soul are with his parishioners and his books; and I'm human enough to want a little, idle, frivolous talk sometimes. I have not the 'stability' of the Scotch nature."
"Don't try to get it," said Rowena. "You and I must leaven these Scotch folk with a little seasonable froth."
"Don't think I don't admire goodness," said Mrs. Macintosh hastily. "I do from the bottom of my heart. But a good person need not be dull."
"No," said Rowena, in a more thoughtful tone; then she said abruptly: "I am having fresh aspirations this winter. I wonder if you will see any difference in me by the time the spring is here. I am very slowly going through a transformation. My outlook on life is altering, I am seeing everything from a different standpoint. Pardon my egotism, but tell me, what is your experience? Is life here an enigma to you, or have you the key to it?"
Mrs. Macintosh's whole face softened at once.
"I think I found the key long ago," she said. "Nothing is a puzzle, nothing is a mystery, if you have enough love and trust."
"Ah," said Rowena, with a long-drawn breath, "and that is what I am slowly discovering."
Mrs. Macintosh laid her hand very gently on the little red leather book that was never very far-away from Rowena's couch.
"You are learning out of this," she said.
Rowena nodded brightly.
"It is a new book to me. I have never really studied it in my life before, and it's simply wonderful. It does what the other religious writings never do—it leads you straight to a Person Who becomes more real than anyone else in the world!"
Then there was silence between them which Rowena broke.
"So you see," she said gaily, "I can't be lonely or desolate; it is quite impossible. I have so much lost time to make up, so much to learn and discover."
She did not often open her heart to anyone, and Mrs. Macintosh was touched by it.
After this little talk, she and Rowena drew closer together. And Mrs. Macintosh tried to come over and see her as often as she could.
Rowena had one or two letters from General Macdonald. Then, as December was drawing towards a close, she had one which much distressed her.
"I have just been wired for. Mysie is dangerously ill ofpneumonia. I leave to-morrow. Pray for her. Yours.HUGH MACDONALD."
Rowena found it hard to lie patiently under this blow. Mysie, with her laughing eyes and active spirits to be stretched on a bed of suffering! It brought an ache to her heart as she thought of her. She longed to rise up from her bed and go off to her. Granny was loud in denunciation of Edinburgh schools.
"The wee lassie hasna the constitootion for that freezin' toon. I aye was once awa' there, an' niver shall I forget et. I cudna keep body and sperrit together. 'Tis the Highlands for soft sweet air, an' winds that blaw aisy, not wi' knives piercin' into your bones!"
Rowena could only write her sympathy and possess her soul in patience. She got a wire one day, when Mysie's life was in danger, and then another to say she was pulling through. Christmas found Mysie still very ill, and her father in an Edinburgh hotel, learning day by day how much he loved his child.
And then when Mysie was quite convalescent, her father wrote that he was bringing her home.
Rowena wrote promptly:
"Will you let Granny and me have her here, to pet her and nurse herback to health again? She is not too fond of that worthy housekeeperof yours, and I should love to have her."
By return of post she heard from the General:
"I can't say how good I think it of you! There is no one I wouldhave her with more willingly. I have business in town, and did notwant to return just yet. I will bring her down myself the first daythe doctor says she can travel."
And so one day, a very frail white little Mysie arrived, but her eyes were blazing with delight and rapture.
When Rowena's arms were round her, she looked up into her face with passionate devotion.
"I've never had anyone to talk to like you! And I've been just sick with wanting you and the glen and the loch!"
"Keep a bit of your heart for your old father," said General Macdonald.
His face looked worn and weary, but Rowena saw that he had improved in health and spirits. His step was brisker, he held himself more alertly.
Mysie looked up at him affectionately.
"Dad has been so kind," she informed Rowena; "he used to play halma with me in bed, and told me stories, almost as good as yours."
When she had been packed off to bed, her father began to talk about her.
"She has not the constitution for a town life, and the doctors advised me to let her go easily for the next year. The schoolmistress said she was, if anything, too eager and quick over her lessons; but her appetite failed, and she had constant headaches; and then, in this last spell of extreme cold, she did not seem to have the strength to withstand it. I don't want to lose her. Do advise me. What shall I do? Not try another governess?"
Rowena laughed.
"Let me have her. We shall be company for each other, and then you roam the world as you will. I don't believe you will settle down here."
"I want to do something with my life," said the General earnestly. "I'm not keen about politics, I'm afraid; but I've been offered a post by a friend of Cavanagh's. It has to do with the welfare of the deserving unemployed, and they want me to be secretary. It will entail a few months in town, and a good deal of travelling round, but I shall feel I am working again. At the same time, I am not going to live entirely apart from my child, and I have my duties as a landlord here. So the spring will see me opening the house again. I will gladly leave Mysie with you till then."
The matter was settled, and he departed.
Rowena and Mysie were supremely content. The child's rapture at being in the Highlands again was extremely touching.
"I hate towns and houses and people—they make me giddy. When I smelt the air coming in the train from the hills, I nearly cried. I told Dad I couldn't never live away from the Highlands, and he said he didn't think I could, and he wouldn't ask me to. Isn't he a darling! And the girls thought a kilt shocking! But you'll let me wear mine again, won't you? Oh, dearest prisoner, how happy you and me will be! Will Shags be jealous, do you think? He's looking at me out of the corners of his eyes, something like Miss Falconer did. And oh I do just look at the darling loch. Isn't it perfectly sweet with the sun on it? There's nothing for the sun to shine on in Edinburgh. When it did come out, it must have been rather disgusted only to have the streets and houses to shine on, instead of the loch and hills and moor. I kissed the earth when we got out at the station. The only thing I really enjoyed at school was learning poetry. I learnt a lovely piece, but when I had to say it, I cried instead, and Miss Gordon wasn't cross, she said she understood, but I wouldn't not have learnt it for anything. It began:
"'The Highlands, the Highlands, oh, gin I were there,Though the mountains and moorlands be rugged and bare;Tho' cold be the climate and scanty the fare,Oh, my dearly loved Highlands, oh, gin I were there.'"
"And it ends:
"'The Highlands, the Highlands, my once happy homeThrough thy glens and thy straths my delight was to roam;Though on a bright shore, where all nature is fair,My heart's in the Highlands, oh, gin I were there!'"
"I think it was rather cruel to make you learn that," said Rowena; "but we won't think of the time you were away, little Flora; we'll only think of the good time we're going to have now. Do you know, I'm counting the months to my freedom? Only three more months and then I'll be staggering to my feet. I shall have to learn to walk again, shan't I?"
"And you'll lean on my arm," said Mysie with shining eyes; "and then in a few days you'll be riding and rowing and fishing with me. Oh, it will be glorious!"
Time slipped away very pleasantly. Mysie fast regained her health and strength; and then Rowena suggested a couple of hours at lessons every morning. She was delighted with Mysie's quick intelligence, and Mysie was very naïve in her comments upon Rowena's knowledge.
"Why, you know heaps and heaps more than I do! You're as clever as Miss Falconer, and yet you never show off like she did!"
And then spring came, a late spring in the Highlands, but a marvellously beautiful one.
Rowena had her couch moved out-of-doors for an hour in the sunshine sometimes, and she lay and gazed at the soft shadows chasing each other across the distant hills and loch, and watched the green buds bursting into blossom, and the pale primroses in the banks.
"I may never see another spring here," she said rather sadly once to Mysie. "I feel I'm a bit of the soil, but I shall have to depart when my legs are given back to me."
Mysie was loud in her laments.
"Don't try to get well! We can't spare you. Nobody wants you in India half so bad as Dad and I want you here."
But Rowena shook her head, and very soon her brother Ted received a letter from her which rejoiced his heart.
"DEAR OLD TED,—""My year is over! I can hardly believe it, and actually old Niddy-Noddy took it into his wise old head to take his holiday in Scotland this spring. Of course he came on to see me, and much against my will he brought some other old wiseacre from Edinburgh—a chum of his—and they examined me and poked me about, and were highly pleased with the result of my year's rest. I am at present like a baby trying to walk! I am to go slowly, but they say my unused muscles will harden in time, and my back is really cured. What a wonderful thing it is to have a body which will go! I never valued mine properly before, and I assure you I'm going to be very careful and cautious with such a precious possession now. My first walk was taken two days ago. Mysie and Granny nearly cried with the excitement of it. And I staggered and rolled like a drunken tar. But I'm walking more respectably now—only the fatigue of it! I ask myself am I a Rip Van Winkle, and have I spent a hundred years instead of one upon my bed?""Well, this is enough about my body.""Now about plans. You and Geraldine are very impatient to have me. It is rather pleasant to feel I am wanted so much, and of course the thought of being with you so soon makes me want to dance a jig! This is May. Shall I come out the end of August? Will it be in the middle of the monsoon? But that will be a matter of indifference to me. I must tell you frankly that I shall say good-bye to the Highlands with real concern. My heart has been stolen by its soft air and elusive colours, and the dear simple Gaelic people, not to speak of the charming personality of Mysie Macdonald. And Granny and I have grown into each other's ways, so that it will be hard to snap ourselves asunder.""I have written to the laird. He's in a predicament about his child, feeling that school has been a failure, and yet governesses are worse. I wish I knew a dear old motherly body who would teach and love the little darling with the same breath. How are your chicks? Grown out of knowledge, I expect. I can't believe that I shall be with you before very long now. Good-bye. My love and kisses to the batch of you. And tell Geraldine that I will stop in town and be fitted up with frocks before I sail, so as not to disgrace her. Your last cheque was far too generous.""Ever your""ROWENA."
General Macdonald arrived over one afternoon. He had returned from town unexpectedly, and had told no one of his coming. Mysie was out when he came. Rowena received him in her green room. The couch was absent. At first he looked quite dazed when he saw a radiant vision crossing the room to meet him. Rowena looked so very much alive, as if every pulse in her body were beating with intense vitality.