uld do, to Ingram's profound dismay.

He labored hard to lighten the spirits of those two girls. He talked of
John the Piper, and said he would invite him up to London, and described
his probable appearance in the Park. He told them stories of his
adventures while he was camping out with some young artists in the
Western Highlands, and told them anecdotes, old, recent and of his own
invention, about the people he had met. Had they heard of the steward on
board one of the Clyde steamers who had a percentage on the drink
consumed in the cabin, and who would call out to the captain, "Why wass
you going so fast? Dinna put her into the quay so fast! There is a gran'
company down below, and they are drinking fine!" Had he ever told them
of the porter at Arran who had demanded sixpence for carrying up some
luggage, but who, after being sent to get a sovereign changed, came back
with only eighteen shillings, saying, "Oh yes, it iss sexpence! Oh, ay,
it iss sexpence! But it iss two shullens _ta you!_" Or of the other, who
after being paid hung about the cottage-door for nearly an hour, until
Ingram, coming out, asked him why he had waited; whereupon he said, with
an air of perfect indifference, "Oo, ay, there was something said about
a dram; but hoot toots! it is of no consequence whatever!" And was it
true that the sheriff of Stornoway was so kind-hearted a man that he
remitted the punishment of certain culprits, ordained by the statute to
be whipped with birch rods, on the ground that the island of Lewis
produced no birch, and that he was not bound to import it? And had Mairi
heard any more of the Black Horse of Loch Suainabhal? And where had she
pulled those splendid bunches of bell-heather?

He suddenly stopped, and Sheila looked up with inquiring eyes. How did
he know that Mairi had brought those things with her? Sheila saw that he
must have gone up with her husband, and must have seen the room which
she had decorated in imitation of the small parlor at Borvabost. She
would rather not think of that room now.

"When are you going to the Lewis?" she asked of him with her eyes cast
down.

"Well, I think I have changed my mind about that, Sheila. I don't think
I shall go to the Lewis this autumn."

Her face became more and more embarrassed: how was she to thank him for
his continued thoughtfulness and self-sacrifice?

"There is no necessity," he said lightly. "The man I am going with has
no particular purpose in view. We