“A Scotch company, Mr. Henderson?” said Mary, with a sly malice in her look.
“Yes, miss,” said he, coloring slightly. “The house of M'Grotty and Co. is at the head o' it.”
“And are they the same enterprising people who have proposed to take the demesne on lease, provided the gardens be measured in as arable land?”
“They are, miss; they've signed the rough draught o' the lease this morning.”
“Indeed!” cried she, growing suddenly pale as death. “Are there any other changes you can mention to me, since in the few days I have been ill so much has occurred?”
“There 's nae muckle more to speak o', miss. James M'Grotty—he's the younger brother—was here yesterday to try and see you about the school. He wants the house for his steward; but if you object, he 'll just take the doctor's.”
“Why—where is Dr. Cloves to go?”
“He does na ken exactly, miss. He thinks he 'll try Auckland, or some of these new places in New Zealand.”
“But the dispensary must be continued; the people cannot be left without medical advice.”
“Mr. James says he 'll think aboot it when he comes over in summer. He's a vara spirited young man, and when there's a meetin'-house built in the village—”