"Not likely," said the girl in a lighter tone. She stepped across the room and picked up a fur-lined cloak from a chair. "My body got into long dresses too soon, my soul is still hopping about with a sun-bonnet on, and you really mustn't expect me to be proper and fashionable until I've turned ninety or so. Is there any reason why I shouldn't run over and have dinner with Jean and the boys to-night?"
"Certainly there is. Didn't I tell you Mr. Huntley is just back from the West? He's coming to dinner."
"But you won't want a frivolous person like me round. He'll want to talk business to you all evening."
"That doesn't matter. You ought to be interested in my business. Besides, he's a charming bachelor, so I want you to behave nicely."
"I couldn't think of it. I feel sure I'd make a better impression if I stayed away, anyway." She was gathering the dark folds of her cloak about her light evening dress as she spoke. "He might feel embarrassed if we met again. The last time he laid his fortune at my feet and I spurned it with scorn."
"What are you talking about, you absurd child? Did you ever meet Blake Huntley in Cheemaun?"
The girl came back to the fire, her eyes dancing. "No, it was in prehistoric times—at Forest Glen. I remember I was dressed mostly in a sunbonnet and the remains of a pinafore—and I think I was in Highland costume as to shoes and stockings. Mr. Huntley evidently felt sorry for me and offered me a silver dollar, which was too much for my Gordon pride. Even Aunt Margaret approved of my refusing it, though she felt it might have been done in a more genteel manner."
The lady in the lounging chair laughed, and her astute young companion saw her chance. "I'm going to run over and see Jean and the boys just for five minutes," she said in a wheedling tone. "I shall be back in time for dinner."
"Well, see that you are." The elder woman's voice had lost all its fretfulness. She looked quite pleased. "You must remind Blake Huntley of your former acquaintance. What was he doing at The Dale?"
"He had come to see about"—the girl hesitated—"selling old Sandy McLachlan's farm." Her big gray eyes looked steadily and solemnly into her companion's.