"Yes, there; and from Delia Beaseley, and Jamie, and Mrs. Macleod."
"By the way, you and Jamie seem to be great friends."
"I love him," I said emphatically.
"H'm, lucky dog; better not tell him so."
"Why not?" I asked, at once on the defensive.
The Doctor compressed his lips in a fashion that said as plainly as if he had spoken, "Unsophisticated at twenty-six; I don't believe her!"
"I love Cale, too, and he is my own kind."
"Cale 's all right; I 'm going to know him better before the week is out. And how about Mrs. Macleod?"
"Mrs. Macleod is Jamie's mother, and I like her and respect her—but she 's not easy to love."
"That's true—she is not easy to love. About the salary," he said changing the subject; "I intended to pay it myself until you were installed on the farm; it is a favor to me to be allowed to help out Mrs. Macleod. I knew from private sources that she needed someone to cheer her here in this Canadian country; it's a great change from her home in Crieff, and then she carries Jamie on her heart all the time. I insisted this morning on taking charge of the whole business, you included," he smiled ruefully, "but Ewart would n't hear to it. He argues that so long as you are in his house, and your work is—well, we 'll call it home-making, he, being the beneficiary has the sole right to pay for his benefits."