me, quiet and healthful in this beautiful Perthshire, are better, better
by far, than if you had been a politician up in London, ever struggling,
ever speaking, and ever bearing the long hours at the House and the
eternal stress of Parliamentary life?"

"Yes, yes," he said, just a trifle impatiently. "It is not that. I don't
regret that I had to retire, except--well, except for your sake perhaps,
dear."

"For my sake! How?"

"Because, had I been a member of this Cabinet--which some of my friends
predicted--you would have had the chance of a good marriage. But buried
as you are down here instead, what chances have you?"

"I want no chance, dad," replied the girl. "I shall never marry."

A painful thought crossed the old man's mind, being mirrored upon his
brow by the deep lines which puckered there for a few brief moments.
"Well," he exclaimed, smiling, "that's surely no reason why you should
not go to the ball at Connachan to-night."

"I have my duty to perform, dad; my duty is to remain with you," she
said decisively. "You know you have quite a lot to do, and when your
mother has gone we'll spend an hour or two here at work."

"I hear that Walter Murie is at home again at Connachan. Hill told me
this morning," remarked her father.

"So I heard also," answered the girl.