Käthchen began to snigger a little.
"I do believe, Mamie," she said, "that that is all the interest you have in the shooting—it will provide so much more employment for your beloved crofters."
"Oh, yes, I suppose the place will be a little more brisk and lively," Mary continued, "though that won't improve it much in my estimation. I wonder what made Fred hire that wretched little steam-launch." She looked towards the tiny vessel that was lying close to the quay: the small white funnel and the decks forward were visible in the mystic twilight; the hull was less clearly defined. "Fancy that thing coming sputtering and crackling into the bay on a beautiful night like this!"
"It would be very handy to take a message out to Heimra Island," said Käthchen, demurely.
Mary glanced at her, and laughed.
"My dear Käthchen, curiosity is a humiliating weakness; but I will tell you what is in the letter that is lying on the hall table—and that is likely to lie there, unless a wind springs up from some quarter to-morrow. It is an invitation to Mr. Ross to come and dine with us on Monday next."
"Monday?" said Kate Glendinning, looking surprised. "The very day your brother and Mr. Meredyth come here?"
"For that very reason," said Mary. "I wish Mr. Ross to understand why we have never asked him to dine with us—well, of course he would understand for himself—two girls, living by themselves—and—and knowing him only for so short a time. But now, you see, I ask him for the very first evening that my brother is in the house—and that's all right and correct—if there's any Mrs. Grundy in Lochgarra."
"The Free Church Minister!" said Käthchen, spitefully—for she had never forgiven the good man for his having kept aloof from the fray at Ru-Minard.
"Mr. Ross has been very kind to me—in his reserved and distant way," Mary said, "and I should not like him to think me ungrateful——"