'No, I have not, Maggie.'
'They say there is none can do it like him. And if he would only go to the Highland meetings, he could win prizes and medals—and for the pipe-playing too, and the tossing the caber. There is not one of the lads can come near him; but it is not often that he tries; for he is not proud.'
'I am glad that he does not go to the Highland meetings,' Meenie said, rather quietly, and with her eyes cast down.
'No, he is not proud,' said Maggie, continuing (for she had but the one hero in all the world), 'although there is nothing he canna do better than any of them. There was one of the gentlemen said to him last year—the gentleman hadna been shooting very well the day before—he said, "Ronald, let one of the gillies look after the dogs to-day, and go you and bring your gun, and make up for my mistakes;" and when he came home in the evening, he said, "It was a clean day's shooting the day; we did not leave one wounded bird or hare behind us." And another gentleman was saying, "Ronald, if ye could sell your eye-sight, I would give ye five hundred pounds for't." And Duncan was saying that this gentleman that's come for the fishing, he doesna talk to Ronald about the salmon and the loch, but about everything in the country, and Ronald knows as well as him about such things. And his lordship, too, he writes to Ronald, "Dear Ronald," and quite friendly; and when he was going away he gave Ronald his own pipe, that has got a silver band on it, and his tobacco-pouch, with the letters of his name worked in silk. And there's not one can say that Ronald's proud.'
Well, this was very idle talk; and moreover it was continued, for the red-haired and freckled little sister was never weary of relating the exploits of her handsome brother—the adventures he had had with wild-cats, and stags, and seals, and eagles, and the like; and, strangely enough, Miss Douglas showed no sign of impatience whatever. Nay, she listened with an interest that scarcely allowed her to interrupt with a word; and with satisfaction and approval, to judge by her expression; and all that she would say from time to time—and absently—was:
'But he is so careless, Maggie! Why don't you speak to him? You really must make him more heedful of himself.'
However, the night was going by; and Maggie's praises and recitals had come to an end. Meenie went down to the door to see her friend comfortably wrapped up; but there was no need of escort; the stars were shining clear, though the wind still howled blusteringly. And so they said good-bye; and Maggie went on through the dark to the cottage, thinking that Meenie Douglas was the most beautiful and sweet and warm-hearted companion she was ever likely to meet with through all her life, and wondering how it came about that Ronald and Mr. Murray and the rest of them had been so disgracefully neglectful in not inviting her to the New Year's festivities on the forthcoming Monday. Ronald, at least, should hear of his remissness, and that at once.
CHAPTER VII.
AN EYRIE.
'Come along, Harry, my lad,' the young keeper cried next morning to his faithful terrier, 'and we'll go and have a look up the hill.'