"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.