Margaret, however, had taken her stand in the dairy, which was on the opposite side of the passage from the kitchen. She wanted to greet her brother in her own way. And Alec, as soon as he saw that she was not with his father, knew where she was. The dairy had been a favourite refuge in their childish days. It was a little out of the way, and seldom visited, while it commanded a way of retreat through the cheese-house.
As soon as his father had taken charge of Cameron, Alec hurried back through the kitchen, ran along the passage, opened the dairy-door, and there, sure enough, was Margaret.
‘Maggie!’ he cried; and the two were fast locked in each other’s embrace.
It was but eight weeks since they had parted; but they had never been separated before.
For a moment neither spoke.
‘What made you come here, Maggie?’ asked Alec, with boyish inconsiderateness.
‘I came for the cream for tea,’ said Margaret.
‘Oh, Maggie!’
‘I did indeed. Go and get me a light. Oh, Alec! it has been so lonely without you!’
She kissed him again, and pushed him out of the dairy. Then she burst into tears. He was not so glad to see her as she had been to see him. He was changed; she knew he was changed, though she had not really seen him. He was going to be a man, to grow beyond her, to forget, perhaps to despise her. Why had he asked why she had come there? Surely he might have——