'Roland—Roland—you here! oh, such an unexpected joy!' exclaimed his sister, a merry and impulsive girl, who had just returned from riding, in bearing so smart, handsome, and perfect in her hat and habit, as she tossed aside her whip and gauntlets and embraced him again and again, so effusively and affectionately that he felt an emotion of welcome for the first time.
'I am here, Maude—but why did you not come to meet me?' said he.
'I knew not that you were to be here to-day,' she replied, with a sparkle in her eyes.
'Did your—did not Mrs. Lindsay tell you I was coming?'
'No,' replied Maude indignantly.
'Another act of coldness and unwelcome.'
'Oh, Roland—how I dread these people!'
'Who?'
'Mrs. Lindsay and her Mr. Sharpe! I have just had a spin over breezy Tentsmuirs, making the sheep and rabbits fly before me, as you and I and Hester Maule have often done before, Roland,' said Maude, changing abruptly from grave to gay.
Full of health and spirits, with a soft rose-leaf complexion that was heightened by recent exercise and present excitement, she was a girl whose beauty was of a delicate type. Her hair was of the sunniest brown, her eyes a soft and dreamy blue, yet wont to beam and sparkle at times; her figure was slight, extremely graceful, and she was now in her twentieth year.