know tomorrow, because he will come back; but--I would like to
know tonight."

She sighed a little--so light a breath that it was only the dream
of a sigh. Then she looked at the lilac sunbonnet, as if it ought
to have known.

"At any rate he has very good taste," she said.

But the lilac sunbonnet said never a word.





CHAPTER IV.

A CAVALIER PURITAN.


The farm town of Craig Ronald drowsed in the quiet of noon. In the
open court the sunshine triumphed, and only the purple-grey marsh
mallows along the side of the house under the windows gave any
sign of life. In them the bees had begun to hum at earliest dawn,
an hour and a half before the sun looked over the crest of Ben
Gairn. They were humming busily still. In all the chambers of the
house there was the same reposeful stillness. Through them Winsome
Charteris moved with free, light step. She glanced in to see that
her grandfather and grandmother were wanting for nothing in their
cool and wide sitting-room, where the brown mahogany-cased eight-