They had been coloured by their surroundings. Her mother was dead, and she had one sister, named Maggie, aged fourteen.
Meanwhile, during this digression, Alec was guiding his horse down the gravelly track. His eyes were still on the homestead, but they ranged from point to point when the dining-room window became hidden from view. As he turned into the main road which ran up the valley, he saw a light streaming from the kitchen door and a thin column of smoke rising from the kitchen chimney. When he opened the home-paddock gate a light in Elsie's room caught his attention, and he threw a kiss in its direction. Just then her ears began to tingle and grow red, for some one was surely thinking of her. Shutting the gate, he went off at a quick canter, and did not draw rein until he clattered across the sapling bridge, which spanned a small dry water-course within fifty yards of the house. Four or five dogs rushed out, barking furious defiance, until Alec said, "Down, Rover," to the leader, who began to caper and wheel with his tail in the air in a whirl-wind of welcome; and the younger dogs followed suit when they were assured, on the best of authority, that the new-comer was a friend, and not a stranger to be barked at, and bitten if need be, or at least sworn at as a trespasser. They accompanied the horse to the stable door, and when Alec alighted Rover jumped up and put his nose under an outstretched hand which patted the rough head. Then the other dogs made themselves acquainted with Alec's trousers, so that they might know him again, anywhere and everywhere.
A man came out of the shadows.
"Good evenin', sor," said the groom, or man-of-all-work, whose duty it was to attend to the stable, milk the cows, chop wood, and do such odd jobs as were required.
"Good evening, Pat; all well here?" said Alec.
"All well! Glory be to God, masther Keryle, an' Miss Elsie bloomin' an' gay, an' wishin' to see somebody I don't mane to name for the wurld."
"Now, Pat, none of your blarney!" said Alec, as he slipped half a crown into the man's hand. Pat took the reins, and led the horse into the stable, where a munching of teeth soon followed.
Alec went round to the front of the house, turned the button of the little gate at the end of the verandah, and knocked. The McLeans were at dinner. Maggie jumped from her seat, and opened the door.
"How do you do, Mr. Keryle?" she said, taking his two hands, and pulling him into the room, which opened on the verandah. Her father rose solemnly, with the expression of a mute at a funeral. He squeezed Alec's hand with a warm grip. That was his one sign of welcome. He had not a word for it in his dictionary, or he could not find it at a moment's notice, so he left it unsaid and sat down.