“What is Scotland like?” asked Shan’t.
“There are rocks and burns—and hills and lochs,” said Diana absent-mindedly—for her heart was still there.
“How lovely!” sighed Shan’t, knowing nothing of lochs and burns, but Diana had been there and Uncle Marcus was there and she did so want to go. “And what else?”
“On an island in the middle of the sea there was a little bird that would have died if some one hadn’t rescued it.”
“In the mid-dle of the sea?” asked Shan’t—incredulous.
“Yes.”
“And did some one rescue the darlin’ little bird?”
“Yes—”
“What was it called?”
“Robinson.”