“How could you expect us, Flo, to keep things very tidy in a place like this, where we’ve had to work hard with our axes every day and all day, and no woman to help us in domestic affairs? Why, sometimes we’ve been so tired at the end of a day, that instead of cleaning up, we have tumbled into bed, boots and all! But there is one little corner of our otherwise dirty hut which we have reserved for lady-visitors. See here!”
He rose, unlocked a little door in a corner of the dining-hall, and throwing it open, disclosed to the astonished gaze of his visitors a small apartment which was a perfect marvel of cleanliness and propriety. True, it was a very simple and what may be styled a home-made apartment. The walls, floor, and ceiling were of unpainted wood, but the wood was perfectly fresh, and smelt pleasantly of resin. The window was preposterously small, with only four squares of glass in it, and it was curtained with mere calico, but the calico was rose-coloured, which imparted a delightfully warm glow to the room, and the view from the window of pine-woods and cliffs, and snow-fields, backed by the distant sea, was magnificent. Two little beds in the corner furthest from the window looked so snug that the tendency of beholders to lie down and go to sleep forthwith was only overcome by a sensation of fear lest the fairies, to whom they unquestionably belonged, might object. There was a rather clumsily-made chest of drawers in one corner, the workmanship of Kenneth; a book-shelf fashioned by Ian; and a table, with three chairs, made by McLeod senior.
“Oh, how kind of you,” said Flora to her father, when she afterwards sat with him alone in this boudoir, and looked round on everything with the deepest interest.
“Well, it was natural that I should get ready a comfortable place for my only flower.”
“Your only flower,” exclaimed Flora, “why, what do you call Ian, and Kenneth, and Roderick?”
“Not flowers, certainly,” replied her father, pulling her down on his knee; “they may be regarded as useful vegetables, if you will, but they are scarcely flowers that one likes to fondle.”
“There, now, sir, you have fondled me enough at present, so tell me all about yourself and your doings.”
“Tell me first, Flo, how it fared with you by the way.”
“Oh, that is soon told. After you left me I remained with old Mrs Crowder in peaceful serenity until Rooney came back from Quebec, and then I consulted with him as to the possibility of getting down here before the close of winter. Being an old nor’-wester, and an Irishman, he had his answer ready. ‘Sure,’ said he, ‘there’s nothin’ aisier. The masther bade me go down to Jenkins Creek wi’ the things as soon as possible, which or’narily mains faster than yer able, so I meant to be off to-morrow be daybreak on fut, wid a sled behind me. But if your ladyship intinds to honour me wid yer company, this is how we cud do it. I’ll hire a sleigh an’ drive ye down to Sam Small’s hut. I know that Sam has got one or two sleds and teams of dogs, for, like myself, he’s an owld nor’-wester, an’ likes to revive owld memories by takin’ a trip now an’ then in the owld fashion. There’s no road av coorse, but dogs ain’t like horses; they don’t have no need of roads, so that don’t matter. I’ll git owld Bogus, the Injin, to help. He an’ I can bate the tracks wid our snowshoes, and the dogs ’ill follow kindly, an’ so we’ll all go down to the creek together.’”
“Well,” continued Flora, “this plan was carried out at once. We started next day and got on famously in the sledge. We had only one upset. It might have been an awkward one, for the horse was very restive when he got off the track into the deep snow, but fortunately, just at the time, up came two travellers, one of them such a handsome man! and they got us out of our difficulty.”