"But, Miss Stanley," said he seriously, "you don't suppose I would take away any number of the people without your consent?"
At this she brightened up a little.
"Oh, it is only if there is a necessity? Only as a necessity, you mean?"
"Perhaps there is something of selfishness in it, too," he admitted. "Of course, I don't like the idea of living in Eilean Heimra all my life—not now: I am free from any duty; and—and perhaps there are associations that one ought to leave behind one. And if I could get some post from the Government in connection with this emigration scheme—if I could become the overseer of the little settlement—I should still be among my own people: no doubt that has had something to do with my forecasts——"
"But at all events," she interposed, quickly, "you won't be too precipitate? It is a dreadful responsibility. Even if they exaggerate their hardships through home-sickness, that is not altogether imaginary: it is real enough to them at the time. And if actual suffering were to take place——"
"I know the responsibility," he said. "I am quite aware of it. All that I could do would be to obtain the fullest and most accurate information; and then explain to the people the gravity of the step they were about to take. Then it is not a new thing; there are quite trustworthy accounts of the various colonial settlements; and this evidence they would have to estimate dispassionately for themselves."
"Mr. Ross!" she remonstrated. "How can you say such a thing! You told me just now that the whole of those people would follow you away to Canada or Australia if you but said the word. Is that a fair judgment of evidence? I don't think you could get rid of your responsibility by putting a lot of Bluebooks before them——"
"I see you are against emigration," he said.
"It may be necessary in some places—I don't know yet that it is here," she answered him. "I would rather be allowed to try." And then she said—looking at him rather timidly—"If you think I have not given them enough, I will give them more. There is no forest land, as you know; but—but there is some more pasture that perhaps Mr. Watson might be induced to give up. I have given them Meall-na-Cruagan; if you wish it, I will give them Meall-na-Fearn. Mr. Watson was most good-natured about Meall-na-Cruagan; and I dare say there would be no difficulty in settling what should be taken off his rent if he were to give up Meall-na-Fearn and Corrie Bhreag. And—and there's more than that I would try before having people banished."
Kate Glendinning observed that this young man changed colour. It was an odd thing—and interesting to the onlooker. For usually he was so calm, and self-possessed, and reserved: submissive, too, so that it was only at times that he raised his keen black eyes to the young lady who was addressing him: he seemed to wish to keep a certain distance between them. But these last words of hers appeared to have touched him. The pale, dark face showed a sense of shame—or deprecation.