‘I suppose I got it from my father, ma’am! I began with the cows.’
‘Ah, how is old David?’ returned Mrs. Gordon. ‘I have seen him once or twice about the castle of late, but have not spoken to him.’
‘He is very well, thank you.—Will you not come up to the Knowe and rest a moment? My mother will be very glad to see you.’
‘Not to-day, Kirsty. I haven’t been on horseback for years, and am already tired. We shall turn here. Good-morning!’
‘Good-morning, ma’am! Good-bye, Mr. Gordon!’ said Kirsty cheerfully, as she wheeled her horse to set him straight at a steep grassy brae.
CHAPTER XLII
THE LAIRD AND HIS MOTHER
The laird and his mother sat and looked at Kirsty as her horse tore up the brae.
‘She can ride—can’t she, mother?’ said Francis.
‘Well enough for a hoiden,’ answered Mrs. Gordon.
‘She rides to please her horse now, but she’ll have him as quiet as yours before long,’ rejoined her son, both a little angry and a little amused at her being called a hoiden who was to him like an angel grown young with æonian life.