Rowena laughed.
"Granny still treats me as if I were six years old. Will you come to tea with me and taste it, Flora?"
The child clapped her hands, then turned to her father with old-fashioned politeness.
"Could you do without me on Friday do you think, Dad?"
"I fancy I might," said her father gravely.
They did not stay longer. Rowena lay still after they had gone, and mused upon what General Macdonald had told her.
"I knew there was something underneath his tired tones. I don't think I have ever met a religious man before. He will be an interesting study, won't he, Shags? But he will be shocked at my sceptical outlook. I rather wish I could believe in the other fuller life after death. But this world is the main one to me. He has stepped into another environment already, he says. It sounded quite uncanny. And yet—and yet—oh, Shags, I do feel a little more responsible and intelligent than you. I don't quite think you and I will merit the same end! No wonder he has grave views about Mysie's future! I fancy she will lead him a dance before he has done with her. But he and his Bible together won't make me give up his friendship. I enjoy listening to him. He has one of the pleasantest voices I've heard for a long time; and he isn't too sanctified yet! For he had one wicked outburst to his child! Oh, Shags, you and I together must keep him as near our world as we can—I can't afford to lose him. He and I are both crippled crocks, and the mad world doesn't need us. I'll talk to him about the Koran next time and see what he has to say to that!"
On Rowena's birthday Mysie appeared in the full glory of a new kilt—the dress Tartan of the Macdonalds.
"Dad got it in Inverness," she said, showing herself off with pride. "He took me there by train yesterday. We had such a day! But I'm going to wish you a happy birthday, and give you a beautiful present. I bought it for you myself yesterday, all by myself."
She put into Rowena's hands a parcel. Then danced up and down in excitement whilst it was being opened.