He could hardly refuse the invitation; and as they went on towards the little township, what she was saying in her heart was this—'Here, you people, all of you, if you are at your cottage doors or working on your crofts, don't you see this now, that Mr. Ross of Heimra is walking with me, with all the world to witness? Do you understand what that means? It is true my uncle drained Loch Heimra and tore down Castle Heimra into a heap of ruins; and the Rosses of Heimra, and you also, may have had reason to hate the name of Stanley; But look at this—look at Young Donald walking with me—in a kind of a way proclaiming himself my friend—and consider what that means. A feud? There is no feud if he and I say there shall be none. I cannot restore Castle Heimra, but it is within his power to forgive and to forget.'
That is what she was somewhat proudly saying to herself as they walked into the village—past the smithy—past the weaver's cottage—past the school-house—past the post-office—past the inn and its dependencies; and she hoped that everyone would see, and reflect. But of course she could not speak in that fashion to Donald Ross.
"You might have told me about Anna Chlannach before," she said.
"I did not like to interfere," he made answer.
"You seem very sensitive on that point!" she retorted.
"Well, it is natural," he said, with something of reserve; and instinctively she felt that she could go no further in that direction.
"Are you remaining long on the mainland at present?" she asked, in an ordinary kind of way.
"Until this afternoon only: I shall go back to Heimra after the mail-cart has come in."
"It must be very lonely out there," she said—glancing towards the remote island among the grey and driven seas.
"It is lonely—now," he said.