"You will be caught and sent back again. I wouldn't do that if I were you. Only cowards run away from disagreeables. A Flora Macdonald never would!"
Mysie tossed her curls back and snorted like a thoroughbred horse.
"Of course I couldn't be a coward. Didn't you say Flora Macdonald went to school in Edinburgh?"
"Yes, I believe so, but I don't know where."
"How wonderful if it was my school she went to!" Rowena laughed.
"I imagine it was," she said.
And Mysie's wonderful eyes grew dreamy and soft, as she thought of her heroine.
She went off fairly happy; but Rowena felt, when both father and child had gone, as if she were bereft of all her friends. If it had not been for Mrs. Macintosh and her son, these autumn months would have been very lonely. The lodges and shooting boxes were soon vacated, and the country round became deserted; wet and storms set in. But Rowena's spirits were never down for long. She was deep in her Highland book, and her bright wood fire and cosy comfort all round her prevented her from feeling the inclemency of the weather. She wrote continually to her brother, and her Indian letters were the delight of her heart. Occasionally the young doctor arrived over to see her. Shags was her constant companion, and Granny was always ready to come in for a "crack."
Snow fell towards the end of November, and Rowena lay looking out at the fairy-like scene with keen enjoyment.
Mrs. Macintosh paid her a visit before it went. She arrived over in a sledge.