Then she turned sharply around, and answered, "Maggie Promoter, if it
please you, sir."

"Very well," he said gravely, "good afternoon, Maggie. Is your brother at
home?"

"No, sir; he's awa' to Kinkell. Your room is ready for you, sir." As she
spoke she was rubbing the meal from her hands, and he stood watching her
with delight. He had wondered if her beauty would bear the test of
daylight, or if it needed the broad shadows, and the dull glow of the
burning turf and the oil cruisie. But she stood directly in the band of
sunshine, and was only the more brilliantly fair for it. He was not in
love with her, he was sure of that, but he was interested by a life so
vivid, so full of splendid color, grace, and vitality.

With a little pride she opened the door of his room, and stirred up the
glowing peats, and put the big rush chair before them,--"And you can just
call me, sir, when you want aught," she said, "I'll go ben noo, and finish
my cake baking."

"Maggie, this room is exactly what I wanted; so clean and quiet! I'm much
obliged to you for allowing me to use it." "You pay siller, sir, and
there's nae call to say thank you!" With the words she closed the door,
and was gone. And somehow, the tone of reserve and the positive click of
the latch made him feel that there would be limits he could not pass.

In a couple of hours he heard the little stir of David's return, and the
preparation for tea. Maggie brought his table to the fireside and covered
it with a square of linen, and set upon it his cup and plate. He had a
book in his hand and he pretended to be absorbed in it; but he did not