"If she had only waited another two minutes," murmured Stuart. "No
matter; she may return. And are these the only occasions upon which
you have heard this mysterious sound, Mrs. M'Gregor?"

"No, Master Keppel, they are not. I assure ye something threatens. It
wakened me up in the wee sma' hours last night--the piping--an' I lay
awake shaking for long eno'."

"How extraordinary. Are you sure your imagination is not playing you
tricks?"

"Ah, you're no' takin' me seriously, laddie."

"Mrs. M'Gregor"--he leaned across the table and rested his hands upon
her shoulders--"you are a second mother to me, your care makes me feel
like a boy again; and in these grey days it's good to feel like a boy
again. You think I am laughing at you, but I'm not. The strange
tradition of your family is associated with a tragedy in your life;
therefore I respect it. But have no fear with regard to Mlle. Dorian.
In the first place she is a patient; in the second--I am merely a
penniless suburban practitioner. Good-night, Mrs. M'Gregor. Don't
think of waiting up. Tell Mary to show Mademoiselle in here directly
she arrives--that is if she really returns."

Mrs. M'Gregor stood up and walked slowly to the door. "I'll show
Mademoiselle in mysel', Mr. Keppel," she said,--"and show her out."

She closed the door very quietly.