igned for
a moment, while Sir Patrick rose from her sea grave all in a mist of
floating hair, from which hung impromptu garlands of pink thyme and
green grasses.

"Allow me to do the honours, please, Jamie," said Mr. Macdonald, when
he could escape from the children's clutches. "Have you been properly
presented? I suppose not. Ladies, the young Master of Rowardennan.
Jamie, Miss Hamilton and Miss Monroe from the United States of America."
Sir Apple-Cheek bowed respectfully. "Let me present the Honourable Ralph
Ardmore, also from the castle, together with Dandie Dinmont and the Wrig
from Crummylowe. Sir Patrick, it is indeed a pleasure to see you again.
Must you take off my gown? I had thought it was past use, but it never
looked so well before."

"YOUR gown?"

The counterfeit presentment of Sir Patrick vanished as the long drapery
flew to the hedge whence it came, and there remained only an offended
young goddess, who swung her dark mane tempestuously to one side,
plaited it in a thick braid, tossed it back again over her white serge
shoulder, and crowded on her sailor hat with unnecessary vehemence.

"Yes, MY gown; whose else could you more appropriately borrow, pray?
Mistress Ogilvie of Crummylowe presses, sponges, and darns my bachelor
wardrobe, but I confess I never suspected that she rented it out for
theatrical purposes. I have been calling upon you in Pettybaw; Lady
Ardmore was there at the same time. Finding but one of the three
American Graces at home, I stayed a few moments only, and am now
returning to Inchcaldy by way of Crummylowe." Here he plucked the gown
off the hedge and folded it carefully.

"Can't we keep it for a sail, Mr. Macdonald?" pleaded Jamie. "Mistress
Ogilvie said it wasn't any more good."

"When Mistress Ogilvie made that remark," replied the Reverend Ronald,
"she had no idea that it would ever touch the shoulders of the martyred
Sir Patrick Spens. Now, I happen to love--"

Francesca hung out a scarlet flag in each cheek, and I was about to say,
'Don't mind me!' when he continued--

"As I was saying, I happen to love 'Sir Patrick Spens,'--it is my
favourite ballad; so, with your permission, I will take the gown, and
you can find something less valuable for a sail!"

I could never understand just why Francesca was so annoyed at being
discovered in our innocent game. Of course she was prone on Mother Earth
and her tresses were much dishevelled, but she looked lovely after all,
in c