Nay, the Macphails never enjoy themselves in the South.

Lady Twombley.

I’m very sorry; perhaps they don’t go the right way about it.

Lady Macphail.

Already Colin’s feet ache——

Lady Twombley.

Do they?

Lady Macphail.

Ache to press the heather again, searching for a sight of the red-deer in the misty chasms of Ben Muchty, or the wild birds fluttering on the gray shore of Loch-na-Doich.

Lady Twombley.