tivated plain on which there were rows and rows of small stones,
scarcely to be distinguished from the stone walls of the adjoining
farms. What was there impressive about such a sight when you went into a
house and paid a franc to be shown the gold ornaments picked up about
the place? Here, however, was a perfect series of those strange
memorials, with the long lanes leading up to a circle, and the tallest
of all the stones placed on the western side of the circle, perhaps as
the headstone of the buried chief. Look at the position, too--the silent
hill, the waters of the sea-loch around it, and beyond that the
desolation of miles of untenanted moorland. Sheila looked pleased that
her companion, after coming so far, should have found something worth
looking at in the Lewis.

"Does it not seem strange," he said suddenly, "to think of young folks
of the present day picking up wild-flowers from among these old stones?"
He was looking at a tiny bouquet which she had gathered.

"Will you take them?" she said, quite simply and naturally offering him
the flowers. "They may remind you some time of Callernish."

He took the flowers, and regarded them for a moment in silence, and then
he said gently, "I do not think I shall want these to remind me of
Callernish. I shall never forget our being here."

At this moment, perhaps fortunately, Duncan appeared, and came along
toward the young people with a basket in his hand.

"It wass Mr. Mackenzie will ask if ye will tek a glass o' whisky, sir,
and a bit o' bread and cheese. And he wass sayin' there wass no hurry at
all, and he will wait for you for two hours or half an hour whatever."

"All right, Duncan: go back and tell him I have finished, and we shall
be there directly. No, thank you, don't take out the whisky--unless,
Miss Mackenzie," added the young man with a smile, "Duncan can persuade
you."

Duncan looked with amazement at the man who dared to joke about Miss
Sheila taking whisky, and without waiting for any further commands
indignantly shut the lid of the basket and walked off.

"I wonder, Miss Mackenzie," said Lavender as they went along the path
and down the hill--"I wonder what you would say if I happened to call
you Sheila by mistake?"

"I should be glad if you did that. Every one calls me Sheila," said the
girl quietly enough.

"You would not be vexed?" he said, regarding her with a little surprise.

"No: why should I be vexed?" she answered; and she happened