"Good night, little Flora; pleasant dreams!"
And Mysie said no more, but went obediently to bed.
[CHAPTER VIII]
THE LAIRD'S AWAKENING
"Yet to be loved makes not to love again;
Not at my years, however it hold in youth."
Tennyson.
MYSIE stayed with Rowena till the afternoon of the following day, and very unwillingly departed. She had hardly gone before another visitor was announced, and this was Mr. Crawford whom Rowena had met on the loch with Angus. He was full of her accident, and told her they had hardly got to the shore themselves before the storm burst upon them.
"Upon my honour, I'd half a mind to row back and look for your remains," he said. "We felt convinced you would be upset, and then we saw a small boat go to your rescue. Donald was beside himself till he heard you were none the worse for your immersion. It was risky being upon the loch a day like that."
"Yes, that pleasure is over," said Rowena regretfully. "I shall no longer be able to enjoy my punt, for it is now a forbidden pastime. If General Macdonald had not happened to be at hand, it would have been all up with me."
"Oh, he's the laird of Abertarlie, isn't he? I was dining at the Grants' yesterday evening, and he was under discussion. A Miss Falconer amused us very much. It seems she is teaching a small girl of his—more as a pastime than anything else. She's one of these modern women—you should have heard her take him off! He has those old-fashioned mid-Victorian ideas of women, and wants his small daughter patterned after their style. Miss Falconer is the wrong sort of person to do that. She's an awfully good sort. Have you met her?"
"Yes," said Rowena; "but I have not seen much of her."