"What a pertinacious woman you are! Are you bored by visitors? May I walk over again, and bring you the books you want?"
"Yes, certainly. I shall be delighted. And then you can give me your impressions of Mysie!"
He departed, but Rowena gave a little sigh as she looked after him and noted the tired bend of his shoulders, and his rather uncertain steps.
"Poor lonely unhappy man!" she murmured. "Why, Shags, you and I must try to bring some zest for living into his soul. I rather fancy Mysie will have a say in that."
Shags cocked one ear and looked wise. He had already had some experience of Mysie. She had certainly contributed towards his pleasure, for she and he invariably had a romp together when she came over.
Two or three days passed. Then one morning Mysie arrived over on her pony. She threw herself upon Rowena in her usual impulsive fashion.
"Haven't you longed to see me! It's been such an exciting time! And I heard Dad say he was coming to see you this afternoon, so I thought I would get over first."
"Now sit up and tell me all about it from the very beginning," demanded Rowena.
"The beginning," said Mysie importantly, "was when Nan came back from the house and said I was to go up and see Dad in the morning. Of course I'd seen him lots of times before that, but I took care that he shouldn't see me. I wanted to find out if I'd like him for a father. I saw him with his gun, he shot two pigeons, and I clapped my hands once. I was behind a tree, and he looked round quickly, but he didn't see me. When Nan wanted to dress me up, I said, No—I would go in my kilt. I hate girls' frocks, and so I ran straight away from her, and walked into the house by myself. And fancy! It was eleven o'clock, and Dad was eating his breakfast!"
"And what did you say?"