"You?" and he jumped up delightedly,--and just at that point old
Hamish opened the door of the cosy room, and announced--

"Miss Brandt, mem!"


II

"Miss Brandt, mem!" announced old Hamish, in as dry and matter-of-fact
a voice as though it were only, "Here's the doctor, mem!" or "Dinner's
ready, mem!" and Margaret herself came in, rosy-faced and bright-eyed
from the kiss of the wind outside.

Lady Elspeth laughed enjoyably at the sight of her, and touched the
bell for tea.

"You are always like a breath from the heather to me, my dear, or a
glimpse of Schiehallion," said she, as they kissed, and Graeme stood
reverently looking on, as at a holy rite.

"Oh, surely I'm not as rugged and wrinkled as all that!" laughed
Margaret. "And I certainly am not bald. How do you do, Mr. Graeme?"

"There is no need to ask you that question, at any rate," he said,
with visible appreciation.

"I have loved Schiehallion all my life," said Lady Elspeth. "To me
there is no mountain in the world to compare with it. You see how
one's judgment is biassed by one's affections. And how is Mrs. Pixley
to-day, my dear?"