They stared in speechless amazement, and rubbed their eyes, but they
could not rub the house of Angus Macdonald off the knoll.

"There comes Ian in the punt," said Cora; "he will explain it."

"He seems to be miserable enough about it if one may judge from the
expression of his face," observed Miss Trim.

Poor Ian was indeed profoundly miserable. The excitement of the recent
event over, his mind insisted on reverting to his forlorn condition.
"So near," he thought, "and yet to miss her! Old Ravenshaw could not
refuse her to me now, but of what avail is his consent without Elsie's?
Ah, Lambert! you're a lucky fellow, and it is shameful in me to wish it
were otherwise when it makes Elsie happy."

Ian now tried to act philosophically, but it would not do. In the upper
room he gave the ladies a brief account of his adventure. He spoke in a
cold, passionless manner, without looking once at Elsie. Of course, he
did not reveal the motives that had influenced him. When he had
finished he rose abruptly to leave.

"Don't go yet," said Mrs Ravenshaw, "there's a bit of carpentering that
I want done, and there is not a man left at the house to do it. The
last gale loosened some of the shingles on the roof, and one of them
slipped down to-day, so that the place leaks.--Go, Elsie, and show him
the shingle near the attic window."

Ian looked at Elsie, and his resolves vanished like smoke. He went
meekly to the attic.

"You are much changed," said Elsie, "since you went on this trip."

"Changed? Not for the worse, I hope," said Ian.

"Well, scarcely for the better," returned the girl with a smile. "See,
here is the window, and the loose shingle is close to the sill. You
won't require to go out on the roof. There is father's tool-box. If
you want anything some of us will be in the room below. You may call,
or come down."

"Stay, Elsie," said the youth, turning abruptly on her. "You say I am
changed. Well, perhaps I am. I've gone through pretty severe hardships
since we parted, and the injuries I received on gaining _this_ have left
their mark."

He touched, as he spoke, the splendid bear-claw collar which still
graced his neck.

"I doubt not you have suffered," returned Elsie, in a softened tone,
"but you are now well, or nearly so, and your reason is not a sufficient
one to account for your being rude to all your old friends, and taking
no interest in anything."

"Am I, then, so rude, so callous?" rejoi