"I don't want to be either," said Mysie promptly. "I want to be a boy."
When tea was over Granny came in.
"I've been thinking, mem, it will be Anne Macdonald that will be anxious—an' Colin be drivin' for some corn—the t'other side o' the loch—and Mysie can just ride off wi' him."
Mysie made a grimace in the old woman's face.
"I'm all right here for a wee bit," she said.
But Granny was quite firm, she took her off to get into her kilt, which was dry by this time; and then brought her in to say good-bye to Rowena.
"You must come again soon and see me," Rowena said; "you've brightened up an hour for the poor captive."
Mysie laughed.
"And will you call me Flora?"
"Good-bye, Flora. Take care of yourself. We are going to be friends."