'There's the door,' said Leucha. 'Go!'
'Not I,' said Holly. 'I find this little chair very comfortable.'
She established herself with much grace and dignity, and the others clustered round her.
'You have got to go,' said Leucha, who was now in a towering passion. 'We have got Mrs Macintyre's permission to consecrate the Summer Parlour to the English girls until Saturday.'
'That seems a pity,' said Holly, 'for, you see, we must put out the fire. We built it, we lassies of Scotland, and we do not leave it except to those English girls who are on our side. I rather think you are up to a conspiracy, and you sha'n't hatch your plot by our fire.—Come, girls, she wants the Parlour and the fire, but she does not want us. So, quick is the word. Stir yourself, Delphy; stir yourself, Augusta; stir yourselves, all the rest. It is mighty damp outside, so the faggots can cool themselves there. My word! I do not think much of some English maids. They have no manners at all. And I telling such a fine tale about Ardshiel and his bonnie men. Well, the Camerons are down now, but they will soon be up again. "The Camerons are coming," say I. Never mind, girls; we 'll find another place for our wee conspiracy.'
In less than two minutes the fire no longer glowed and roared. The coal smouldered feebly under the grate; the faggots were put in the dripping rain, for the evening happened to be a wet one; and, in order to make all secure, Hollyhock poured a jug of water over the rapidly expiring fire.
'There they lie,' she cried; 'but if any of you wants a proper fire lit, not in anger, but in the spirit of love, I can and will undertake the job. Ay! not a word!—Come away, girls. I know a little hut where we can light a fire for our own conspiracy—a sort of a "cubby hole," but loved by poor ghostie, and fit for our work. Come at once, girls. Come at once.'