"You'd better get a wife to keep house for you," said Di carelessly. "Aunts are out of fashion."
"Same as parents, I suppose," he said, with a slight curl coming to his lips. "I came over with some flappers all intent upon a high old time in London. I asked them if they were orphans. You should have heard them yell."
"Oh, the world is out of gear," said Rowena, "but the pendulum will swing back again. And here, amongst our lochs and glens, we do not see much to puzzle or alarm us. Here come the children! Now you will see Hugh's little daughter. And shall we go indoors to tea? We are having it in the hall to-day. It is cooler than out here."
They moved towards the house. The children met them on the way. Mysie looked up frankly into Hector's face when she was introduced to him.
"Did you know Dad when he was a boy? He says you did. What was he like? Always good, or did he sometimes get into scrapes?"
"Ah! Ask him to tell you about Adolph and the cave, or the night he was left alone, and his parents were in town."
"What cave?" gasped Mysie. "Mine? Oh, do you, know the caves about here? Do tell me all about them."
She seized hold of him, and during tea he enlivened them all by tales of boyish pranks in the holidays.
Towards the close of it General Macdonald came in, and the younger members of the household slipped out into the garden again.
Before the evening was over Hector was a universal favourite, and his hearty laugh and cheery talk caused Di to say to Rowena—