Donald rose silently, and asked the gentleman if he would seat himself.
“No, Donald,” replied Sir John in his hearty, pleasant voice; “I cannot stay. I am going to bed, being somewhat tired.”
“The bit chamber is no’ too comfortable for your lordship,” said Jean, dropping a profound curtsey.
“The chamber will do all right. I have slept in it before,” said Sir John.
“Eh, dear, now,” said Jean, “and you be easy to please.”
“I want you, Jean Macfarlane, to call the young ladies and myself not later than five o’clock to-morrow morning, and to have breakfast ready at half-past five; and, Donald, we shall require the dogcart to drive to the station at six o’clock. Have you given orders about the young ladies’ luggage? It ought to start not later than four to-morrow morning to be in time to catch the train.”
“Eh, to be sure,” said Donald. “It’s myself has seen to all that. Don’t you fash yourself, laird. Things’ll be in time. All me and my wife wants is that the bit lassies should have every comfort.”
“I will see to that,” said Sir John.
“We’ll miss them, puir wee things!” exclaimed Jean; and there came a glint of something like tears into her hard and yet bright blue eyes.
“I am sure you will. You have, both of you, been valued servants both to my cousin and her nieces. I wish to make you a little present each.” Here Sir John fumbled in his pocket, and took out a couple of sovereigns.