“Yes,” said Shenac Dhu, “it is very sad.”
“And yet I cannot but take pleasure in it; and perhaps it is foolish and unkind to my mother too. Is it, Shenac?”
There were two or three pairs of eyes watching—no, not watching, but seeing—the two girls from the doorstep, and Shenac Dhu drew her cousin down the garden-path towards the plum-tree before she answered her. Then she put her arms round her neck, and kissed her two or three times before she answered,—
“You are not wrong or foolish. You are right to take pride and pleasure in your brother and his house, and in all that belongs to him. And he is just as proud of you, Shenac, my darling.”
“That is nonsense, you know, Cousin Shenac,” said Allister’s sister; but she smiled and blushed too, as she said it, with pure pleasure.
There was no chance after this to say anything more about the change, real or supposed, that had taken place in Shenac Dhu, for she talked on, allowing no pause till they had come quite round the garden and back to the door-step; but Shenac Bhan knew all about it before she saw her cousin again.
That night, as she was going home through the field with Allister, he asked her rather suddenly,—
“What were you and Cousin Shenac speaking about to-night when you went round the garden?”
“Allister,” said his sister, “do you think Cousin Shenac is changed lately?”
“Changed!” repeated Allister. “How?”