“They screwed their pipes and made them skirl,
Till roofs and rafters all did dirl.
The pipers loud and louder blew,
The dancers quick and quicker flew.”
But at two o’clock again came a lull; more biscuits, more bread-and-cheese, and many more buckets of toddy or punch. And during this lull, accompanied by the violins, Sandie sang the grand old love-song called “The Rose of Allandale.” It was duly appreciated, and Sandie was applauded to the “ring of the bonnet,” as he himself phrased it.
Then Annie herself was led to the front by her uncle. Everyone was silent and seemingly dazzled by her rare but childlike beauty.
Her song was “Ever of thee I’m fondly dreaming.” Perhaps few were near enough to see, but the tears were in the girl’s eyes, and almost streaming over more than once before she had finished.
And now McLeod and his party took their leave, Sandie and his bride following close behind.
The ball continued after this, however, till nearly daylight in the morning. Then “Bob at the Booster”—a kind of kiss-in-the-ring dance—brought matters to a close, and, wrapped in plaids and shawls, the couples filed away to their homes, over the fields and through the heather.
Next day Shufflin’ Sandie was working away among his horses as quietly and contentedly as if he had not been married at all yesterday, or spent the evening in a ballroom.
Before, however, leaving his little cottage by the wood, he had dutifully made his wife a cup of tea, and commanded her to rest for hours before turning out to cook their humble dinner. And dutifully she obeyed.
The Laird and Sandie came to an arrangement that same forenoon as to how much work he was to do for him and how much for himself.