"And so Frank and I, after being warned that the great annoyance and vexation we should find in the place is this fellow Ross, are coolly informed that we are to meet him at dinner, and I suppose we are expected to be civil to him!"
"I certainly do expect you to be civil to him," said Mary.
"Oh, but it's too bad!" he said, impatiently, and he went to the window and turned his back on her. And then he faced round again. "I wonder what Frank will think! I was almost ashamed to ask him to come here, even as it was—a small shooting, not much fishing, and the stalking merely a chance; but, all the same, he accepts; then the first thing we hear of on reaching Inverness is all about this vexation and underhand going on; and the next thing is that we are asked to meet at dinner the very person who causes all the trouble! Now, Mamie, I appeal to yourself, don't you think it is a little too hard?"
She hesitated. She began to fear she had been thoughtless—indiscreet—too much taken up with her own plans and projects.
"At all events, Fred," she pleaded, "your meeting Mr. Ross at dinner can't matter one way or the other—and you will be able to judge for yourself. To me he does not seem the kind of young man you would suspect of spending his time in poaching; in fact, as I understand it, he is looking forward to being called to the Bar, and I should think he was busier with books than with cartridges or salmon flies."
"You are sure he said he would come to-night?" asked this young Fred Stanley, looking at his sister.
"Yes."
"Definitely promised?"
"Yes."
"Well, I don't think he will."