"Oh, no, only it would have been better than driving. I came scratching along with Mack Fraser. How is mother?"
"Oh, your poor mother will be jist fine indeed, and the lads. Eh, and you will be getting to be a great man, Donal'; I will be thinking you will be a boy no more."
Donald laughed. "It's surely time. Why didn't Sandy tell me you were sick?"
"Hoots, that would be jist foolishness, for there would be nothing wrong, whatever."
"But there has been," said Donald, looking at him steadily. He hung his coat and cap in their accustomed place behind the stove, and turned to the old man again. His heart smote him as he took in the changes on the beloved face. He wondered if his refusal to enter the ministry had had anything to do with their cause.
But Duncan was bustling about the room in aimless delight. "Dear, dear, you must be having your supper, lad!" he cried; "you will be hungry."
"I should think I am. I felt the Glenoro air and the Glenoro appetite strike me at the same instant. Here, sit down and let me get it."
"Indeed, perhaps your poor mother will be saying I should not be keeping you."
"I'll get home all the sooner if I'm fortified inside. Oatmeal porridge!" he continued joyfully, as he lifted the lid from the pot and seized the wooden ladle. "I say, Uncle Dunc, this is royal!"
"Indeed it will be jist common fare for such a great city man as you will be getting to be." Duncan regarded him with tender pride.