At this point in Margaret’s reflections, Alec returned with a candle, and seeing the traces of tears on his sister’s cheeks, he turned and gave her another hug. She tenderly returned the caress; but her first words were:
‘Why did you bring a stranger home with you, Alec? And we are to be together such a short time, too!’
‘Oh, nonsense, Maggie! Cameron is a great friend of mine, and you’ll like him, I’m sure. But there’s father calling; we must go.’
Mr. Lindsay had divined what his daughter had been doing; but he thought it was now quite time that she should come forward and play her part as hostess.
‘You go first, Alec,’ she said, taking up the cream-jug which she had brought as her excuse for her visit to the dairy.
‘And I tell you, sir, that till we have the ballot we can have no security against persecution,’ Mr. Lindsay was exclaiming, as they entered the sitting-room. ‘A man cannot vote now according to his conscience unless he is prepared to risk being driven from his home, to lose his very livelihood. Let me give you an instance——’
But here Margaret came forward, calm and serene as usual. Cameron rose to meet her; and the political harangue was cut short by the appearance of a stout damsel with cheeks like peonies, bearing an enormous silver teapot.
Cameron was struck by Margaret Lindsay’s beauty, as everyone was who saw her; but the effect was to render him shy and ill at ease. He felt inferior to her; and the calm indifference of her manner made him fancy that she treated him with disdain. Mr. Lindsay did most of the talking; Cameron, mindful of his friend’s warning, sat almost dumb, totally unlike his usual self. Alec began to think that he had made a mistake in inviting him to the Castle Farm.
As it happened, a keen frost had set in some days before, and farm operations were at a standstill. Margaret was busy next morning in superintending matters in the dairy and the kitchen; but the three men had nothing to do. Mr. Lindsay fastened on his guest, and extracted from him a full and particular account of the state of agriculture and of religion in the island of Scalpa and the neighbouring mainland before the one o’clock dinner.
In the evening, however, there was a promise of a little break in the monotony of life at the farm. A message was brought to Alec enjoining him to be at ‘The Lang Loch’ by half-past nine next morning, and take part in a curling-match between the Muirburn parish and the players of the neighbouring parish of Auchinbyres.