very tired and I wish I was at West Inch."

I made old Souter Johnnie cover the ground as he has never done before
or since, and in an hour she was seated at the supper table, where my
mother had laid out not only butter, but a glass dish of gooseberry jam,
which sparkled and looked fine in the candle-light. I could see that my
parents were as overcome as I was at the difference in her, though not
in the same way. My mother was so set back by the feather thing that
she had round her neck that she called her Miss Calder instead of Edie,
until my cousin in her pretty flighty way would lift her forefinger to
her whenever she did it. After supper, when she had gone to bed, they
could talk of nothing but her looks and her breeding.

"By the way, though," says my father, "it does not look as if she were
heart-broke about my brother's death."

And then for the first time I remembered that she had never said a word
about the matter since I had met her.



CHAPTER III.


THE SHADOW ON THE WATERS.

It was not very long before Cousin Edie was queen of West Inch, and we
all her devoted subjects from my father down. She had money and to
spare, though none of us knew how much. When my mother said that four
shillings the week would cover all that she would cost, she fixed on