luck to ye--and him."

David had now a new interest at Kenmuir. In Maggie he found an
endless source of study. On the death of her mother the girl had
taken up the reins of government at Kenmuir; and gallantly she
played her part, whether in tenderly mothering the baby, wee
Anne, or in the sterner matters of household work. She did her
duty, young though she was, with a surprising, old-fashioned
womanliness that won many a smile of approval from her father,
and caused David's eyes to open with astonishment.

And he soon discovered that Maggie, mistress of Kenmuir, was
another person from his erstwhile playfellow and servant.

The happy days when might ruled right were gone, never to be
recalled. David often regretted them, especially when in a conflict
of tongues, Maggie, with her quick answers and teasing eyes, was
driving him sulky and vanquished from the field. The two were
perpetually squabbling now. In the good old days, he remembered
bitterly, squabbles between them were unknown. He had never
permitted them; any attempt at independent thought or action was
as sternly quelled as in the Middle Ages. She must follow where
he led on--"Ma word!"

Now she was mistress where he had been master; hers was to
command, his to obey. In consequence they were perpetually at
war. And yet he would sit for hours in the kitchen and watch her,
as she went about her business, with solemn, interested eyes, half
of admiration, half of amusement. In the end Maggie always
turned on him with a little laugh touched with irritation.