The door opened with a rasping of the iron latch, and a little girlish
figure clothed from head to foot in a white night veil danced in. She
clapped her hands at sight of him.

"You are come back," she cried; "and you have so fine a gown on too.
But Maud Lindesay says it is very wrong to be out of doors so late,
even if you are Earl of Douglas, and a great man now. Will you never
play at 'Catch-as-catch-can' with David and me any more?"

"Margaret," said the young Earl, "what do you away from your chamber
at all? Our mother will miss you, and I do not want her here to-night.
Go back at once!"

But the little wilful maiden, catching her skirts in her hands at
either side and raising them a little way from the ground, began to
dance a dainty _pas seul_, ending with a flashing whirl and a low bow
in the direction of her audience.

At this William Douglas could not choose but smile, and soon threw
himself down on the bed, setting his clasped hands behind his head,
and contenting himself with looking at his little sister.

Though at this time but eight years of age, Margaret of Douglas was
possessed of such extraordinary vitality and character that she seemed
more like eleven. She had the clear-cut, handsome Douglas face, the
pale olive skin, the flashing dark eyes, and the crisp, blue-black
hair of her brother. A lithe grace and quickness, like those of a
beautiful wild animal, were characteristic of every movement.