e going." He held out his hand again.
"Good-bye, and I thank you for your generosity."

"But--but you will not be leaving without your supper!" cried Scotty
aghast.

"Thank you, but your grandparents are not expecting me, and----"

Scotty stared. "But what difference would that be making?" he asked
artlessly. "It will be all the better." The new master smiled again
at the unconscious hospitality of the remark, and this time accepted
the invitation. Scotty instantly flung aside his axe, and led the way
around to the door.

Monteith had already learned to expect a warm greeting from the
inhabitants of the Oro Highlands, but he had yet to experience a true
Scottish-Canadian welcome, and was almost overwhelmed by the one he
received in the old house under the Silver Maple.

Big Malcolm met him at the door and made him welcome in a manner that
somehow made the guest feel that the old man owned the whole township
of Oro and was laying it at his feet. Mrs. MacDonald drew him up to
the fire, bewailing the long cold walk he had had, and pulling off his
overcoat, calling all the while for Scotty to run and put more wood in
the stove that she might make a fresh cup of tea. Hamish came hurrying
up from the barn to shake the guest's hand and make him welcome yet
again, and even Sport, Bruce's successor, leaped round him, barking
joyously, as though he understood that the arrival of a visitor was the
best possible thing that could happen.

Then, there was Old Farquhar, still cackling incoherent Gaelic from the
chimney corner. Before the visitor had got the snow swept from his
feet the old man inquired if he had read Ossian's poems, and finding
him in the depths of ignorance regarding that great bard, turned his
back upon him in disgust, and for the remainder of the afternoon snored
grumpily.

The hostess explained apologetically, as she brought the new master a
steaming cup of tea, that indeed poor Farquhar was the nice, kind body,
but he had had the toothache all last night and would be terrible set
on Ossian.

Mrs. MacDonald was growing too old for the household cares devolving
upon her, and Scotty being her chief help, the housekeeping did not at
all compare with what Monteith was accustomed to in his boarding place
at Store Thompson's. But he was conscious of no lack in the dingy old
house. He recognised the inherent refinement of Mrs. MacDonald's
nature, and bowed to it; he knew Big Malcolm for a gentleman th