'Come, girlie; come,' said Hollyhock in her most seductive tones. 'My Lord Alasdair had no right to ask you to dry his locks. Lean on me, lassie; lean on me. You did get an awful shock.'
'Oh, oh,' sobbed Leucha, 'then I did see a ghost!'
'You saw what you saw. Come along home now. I 'll see to you.'
'You are—Hollyhock,' said Leucha.
'Yes; and whyever not?'
'Then there is a ghost, and you are going to dry his hair! How can you—how can you?'
'Poor ghost! I must do my little bit to comfort him,' said Hollyhock. 'Eh, but you are a real brave lass, that you are, Leuchy, my pet. Now lean on me, and I 'll bring you in to the cosy house, and the warm fire, and the good supper. There's no malice in Hollyhock. She's only a bit wild. Oh, but won't I give it to that ghost; he had no right to ask those services of an English girl!'
Firmer and firmer did Hollyhock support her trembling companion, and the girl who hated her, but who clung to her so tightly at that moment, entered the house with Hollyhock's arms about her.
There were a number of girls in the great hall—the most magnificent hall in the country.
'Poor thing!' said Hollyhock, 'the ghostie walks this night, and I must run to dry his wet locks; but get something hot for Leuchy to drink, and comfort her all you can, lassies. A Scots ghost—my word! he had no right to beg for the services of a maid from England. I of Caledonia will go out and dry his wet locks!'