"I think, to catch my pony, she has strayed away," said Barbie.
"Strayed away," repeated MacKenzie. "I'm afraid you were not looking after her, Miss Miller, too much taken up with the view, eh?"
"Yes, I confess I forgot all about her," was her truthful answer, "but The Cat is such a cunning creature; she knows how to take care of herself. Ah, I see she has been captured," as Mallender emerged, triumphantly leading an aggrieved animal, with her mouth full of succulent green food.
"Perhaps we had better be moving," suggested MacKenzie, "Mrs. Bourne gave us three-quarters of an hour to get here, and back to supper, and I think we shall just about do it! Of course, you won't ride down, Miss Miller; it's bad going, like broken stairs—Mallender can look after The Cat, and I'll take care of you."
The cold supper in a dell, lit by the moon, proved a right merry meal; the syces and servants had made a big fire, boiled the kettle, and under Mrs. Bourne's directions, spread a substantial repast on a table-cloth on the moss. Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy arriving rather late, had shirked the last two miles, and kept her company. They were a cheery young Irish couple, who always made an affair go off.
As from afar they descried Barbie and her escort, in the van of the sight-seers, Mrs. Kennedy remarked:
"I'm thinking, you'll be having a wedding at Kartairi, before long, Mrs. Bourne."
"Do you say so—who?"
"Is it who? Why, little Miss Miller and Mack, to be sure! He is a rich man by all accounts, and you will have to be looking round for another lady-help."
"Faith, and Mrs. Bourne will look a long time, before she comes across as pretty a girl as Barbie," said Mr. Kennedy, "the beauty of these Hills; her complexion would shame a rose!"