"Ah, indeed, we will with all our hearts," said Mrs. Dalziel, coming forward.
Rowena shook hands with her warmly.
"That is very sweet of you," she said. "I don't feel a stranger, for I love every inch of ground in the Highlands, and my heart never wanders from it."
Marion Panton was found in the inner hall, where tea was laid. Rowena hardly knew her, she was looking so bright and well. Three long windows that looked into the flower garden were wide open, and the scent of sweetbrier hedges and of wallflowers and narcissi filled the hall. A bowl of daffodils was upon the old oak table that held the tea. The shining silver and platter of Scotch scones and cakes gave a homely touch to the rather gloomy hall with its stone floor and dark oak-panelled walls.
Rowena was led up to the big chair at the table by her husband.
"There!" he said, smiling, as she seated herself. "That is where Mysie and I have been wanting to see you for many a long day."
"And it's strange how thoroughly at home I feel," said Rowena, with her laugh, as she slipped off her gloves and took hold of the massive silver teapot.
Tea was a most cheerful meal. Mysie was in her kilt.
"In honour of you," she informed Rowena. "I couldn't wear it in London. Cousin Bel was quite shocked when I put it on once. She said it was boy's clothes, so Dad said I mustn't offend her eyes. But you love it, don't you? You like me to be thorough Scotch?"
"You can't be too Scotch for me," said Rowena.