d drop the provisions.

"These are my boys, Miss Macdonald--Hector's sister, lads," cries Mr
Sudberry. "You'll join us I trust?" (to Hector.)

Hector assents "with pleasure." He is a most amiable and accommodating
man. Meanwhile George and Fred shake hands with Flora, and express
their "delight, their pleasure, etcetera, at this unexpected meeting
which, etcetera, etcetera." Their eyes meet, too, as Lucy's and Flora's
had met a minute before. Whether the concussion of that meeting is too
severe, we cannot say, but the result is, that the three pair of eyes
drop to the ground, and their owners blush. George even goes the length
of stammering something incoherent about "Highland scenery," when a
diversion is created in his favour by Jacky, who comes suddenly round
the corner of the house with a North-American-Indian howl, and with the
nine dogs tearing after him clamorously.

Jacky tumbles over a basket, of course, (a state of disaster is his
normal condition), bruises his shins, and yells fearfully, to the dismay
of his mother, who runs shrieking to the window in her dressing-gown,
meets the gaze of Hector and Flora Macdonald, and retires precipitately
in discomfiture.

No such sensibility affects the stern bosom of Mrs Brown, who darts out
at the front door, catches the unhappy boy by one arm, and drags him
into the house by it as if _it_ were a rope, the child a homeward-bound
vessel, and _she_ a tug-steamer of nine hundred horse-power. The sounds
that proceed from the nursery thereafter are strikingly suggestive: they
might be taken for loud clapping of hands, but the shrieks which follow
forbid the idea of plaudits.

Poor Tilly, who is confused by the uproar, follows the nurse timidly,
bent upon intercession, for she loves Jacky dearly.

The nine dogs--easy-going, jovial creatures--at once jump to the
conclusion that the ham and cold chicken have been prepared and laid out
there on the green hill-side for their special entertainment. They make
a prompt dash at the hampers. Gentlemen and ladies alike rush to the
rescue, and the dogs are obliged to retire. They do so with a surprised
and injured look in their innocent eyes.

"Have you one or two raw onions and a few cold boiled potatoes?"
inquires Hector.

"I'll run and see," cries George, who soon returns with the desired
edibles in a tin can.

"That will do. Now I shall let you taste a potato salad; meanwhile I
will assist in carrying the baske