"'Where is Donald Fraser?' said Neil, shaking his fist. 'It's
him I'm seeking, and it's him I will be finding. Where is he,
Betty Sherman?'

"'Donald Fraser is far enough away by this time,' mocked Betty.
'He is a prudent fellow, and has some quickness of wit under that
sandy thatch of his. He came here last night at sunset, with a
horse and sleigh not his own, or lately gotten, and he asked Nan
in the stable yard to marry him. Did a man ask ME to marry him
at the cow's side with a milking pail in my hand, it's a cold
answer he'd get for his pains. But Nan thought differently, and
they sat late together last night, and 'twas a bonny story Nan
wakened me to hear when she came to bed--the story of a braw
lover who let his secret out when the whisky was above the wit,
and then fell asleep while his rival was away to woo and win his
lass. Did you ever hear a like story, Mr. Campbell?'

"'Oh, yes,' said Neil fiercely. 'It is laughing at me over the
country side and telling that story that Donald Fraser will be
doing, is it? But when I meet him it is not laughing he will be
doing. Oh, no. There will be another story to tell!'

"'Now, don't meddle with the man,' cried Betty. 'What a state to
be in because one good-looking lass likes sandy hair and gray
eyes better than Highland black and blue! You have not the
spirit of a wren, Neil Campbell. Were I you, I would show Donald
Fraser that I could woo and win a lass as speedily as any
Lowlander of them all; that I would! There's many a girl would
gladly say 'yes' for your asking. And here stands one! Why not