, with a handsome square tower and portico in the centre, and
verandahs nearly all round. So one wing and the tower was commenced at
once. But bricks were to be made, and timber cut and dried and fashioned,
and no end of other things were to be accomplished before we actually set
about the erection.

To do all these things we appointed a little army of Gauchos, with two or
three handy men-of-all-work from Scotland.

Meanwhile our villa gardens were planned and our bushes and trees were
planted.

Terraces, too, were contrived to face the lake, and Dugald one evening
proposed a boat-house and boat, and this was carried without a dissentient
voice.

Dugald was extremely fond of our sister Flora. We only wondered that he
now spoke about her so seldom. But if he spoke but little of her he
thought the more, and we could see that all his plans for the
beautification and adornment of the villa had but one end and object--the
delight and gratification of its future little mistress.

Dear old Dugald! he had such a kind lump of a heart of his own, and never
took any of our chaff and banter unpleasantly. But I am quite sure that as
far as he himself was concerned he never would have troubled himself about
even the boat-house or the terraced gardens either, for every idle hour
that he could spare he spent on the hill, as he called it, with his dog--a
lovely Irish setter--and his gun.

I met him one morning going off as usual with Dash, the setter, close
beside the little mule he rode, and with his gun slung over his back.

'Where away, old man?' I said.

'Only to a little laguna I've found among the hills, and I mean to have a
grand bag to-day.'

'Well, you're off early!'

'Yes; there is little to be done at home, and there are some rare fine
ducks up yonder.'

'You'll be back to luncheon?'

'I'll try. If not, don't wait.'

'Not likely; ta-ta! Good luck to you! But you really ought to have a
Gaucho with you.'

'Nonsense, Murdoch! I don't need a groom. Dash and old Tootsie, the mule,
are all I want.'

It was the end of winter, or rather beginning of spring, but Moncrieff had
not yet declared close time, and Dugald managed to supply the larder with
more species of game than we could tell the names of. Birds, especially,
he brought home on his saddle and in his bag; birds of all sizes, from
the little luscious dove to the black swan itself; and one day he actually
came along up the avenue with a dead ostrich. He cou