"No; I must be in New York to-morrow evening. I will meet you at the station the next day."
"I believe I am a bit fagged—and I know mother is. That portage business is a strain on the best legs. But you were game, Marcia, no mistake."
"Help me to be 'game' now—and go to bed. I 'll follow just as soon as I set the bread to rise."
"It's too bad that I must leave you to this, Marcia," said Mrs. Macleod regretfully, as she kissed me good night—for the second time at Lamoral.
"Oh, I can do all there is to be done."
I returned her kiss. I was beginning to love this gentle, reticent Scotchwoman.
"I don't want any good night from you, Marcia," said Jamie gruffly. "Oh, I hate the whole business!" He flung out of the room, and I rose to follow him and Mrs. Macleod.
"Stay with me a little while, Marcia; you are not so tired as they are. Who knows whether I shall see you for a whole month or more?" The Doctor spoke earnestly.
"You expect to be gone so long?"
"Perhaps longer—it depends on what I find awaiting me. You permit another?" He reached for a cigar.