He scarcely glanced at the programme.
'And what have you to speak about, Miss Douglas?'
She laughed.
'About you.'
'About me?' he said, rather aghast.
'It is a vote of thanks to the chairman—and easy enough it will be, I am sure. For I have only to say about you what I hear every one say about you; and that will be simple enough.'
The open sincerity of her friendship—and even of her marked liking for him—was so apparent that for a second or so he was rather bewildered. But he was not the kind of man to misconstrue frankness; he knew that was part of herself; she was too generous, too much inclined to think well of everybody; and the main point to which he had to confine himself was this, that if she, out of her good-nature, could address a few words to those children—about him or any other creature or object in the world—it certainly behoved him to do his best also, although he had never tried anything of the kind before. And then a sudden fancy struck him; and his eyes brightened eagerly. 'Oh yes, yes,' he said, 'I will find something to say. I would make a bad hand at a sermon; but the bairns have enough o' that at times; I dare say we'll find something for them o' another kind—and they'll no be sorry if it's short. I'm thinking I can find something that'll please them.'
And what was this that was in his head?—what but the toast of the Mistress of the Feast! If Meenie had but known, she would doubtless have protested against the introduction of any mutual admiration society into the modest hamlet of Inver-Mudal; but at that moment she was still scanning the programme.
'Now you know, Ronald,' she said, 'it is to be all quiet and private; and that is why the grown-up people are to be kept out except ourselves. Well, then, after they have had raisins handed round, you are to sing "My love she's but a lassie yet"—that is a compliment to the little ones; and then I will read them something; and then you are to sing "O dinna cross the burn, Willie"—I have put down no songs that I have not heard you sing. And then if you would play them "Lord Breadalbane's March" on the pipes——'
She looked up again, with an air of apology.