She put out her tongue at me, but I bade her good-morning so civilly that she smiled and asked me if I had slept well.
"No," said I; "dreams disturbed me."
"It was the cakes and sherry," she observed, with a grimace.
"I also dreamed, and screamed until Betty came and rocked me in her arms. Which proves," she added, "that we are both too young to dine and wine imprudently. I am coming in to tell you what I dreamed. Open the door."
She entered, bundled in a wool blanket, and sat cross-legged on the bed, chattering of her dreams, how, in her sleep, she saw me mammocked by savages, among them Peter, who had grown big and sly and fierce like a fat bear cub in December.
Meanwhile I made of my hair a neat queue and tied it; then put on my buckskin vest with flaps, and my short hunting-shirt over it.
"Are you going to fish?" asked Silver Heels, enviously.
"If Sir William does," said I. "He sent me a present from Castle Cumberland last night. I doubt not that it may be a new fish-rod for salmon."
Presently she went away to be dressed by Betty, and I hastened down the stairs, impatient to find Mr. Duncan and have my present; nay, so fast and blindly did I speed that, swinging around the balustrade, I plumped clean into Sir William, coming up.
"What's to do! What's to do!" he exclaimed, testily. "Is there no gout in the world, then, wooden feet!"