every day until the noon hour. Then she ate dinner with her
grandfather, who was as eager to discuss the news and gossip Sunna had
heard, as any old woman in Kirkwall. He said: "Pooh! Pooh!" and
"Nonsense!" but he listened to it, and it often served his purpose
better than words of weight and wisdom.

In the afternoons Mistress Brodie was to visit, and the winter in
Edinburgh to talk over. Coming home in time to take tea with her
grandfather, she devoted the first hour after the meal to practising
her best songs, and these lullabyed the old man to a sleep which often
lasted until "The Banded Men" were attended to. It might then be ten
o'clock and she was ready to sleep.

All through these long summer days, Thora was the natural source of
interest and the inciting element of all the work and chatter that
turned the Ragnor house upside down and inside out; but Thora was
naturally shy and quiet, and Sunna naturally expressive and
presuming; and it was difficult for their companions to keep Thora and
Sunna in their proper places. Every one found it difficult. Only when
Ian was present, did Sunna take her proper secondary place and Ian,
though the most faithful and attentive of lovers by mail, had only
been able to pay Thora one personal visit. This visit had occurred at
the end of June and he was expected again at the end of September. The
year was now approaching that time and the Ragnor household was in a
state of happy expectation.

It was an unusual condition and Sunna said irritably: "They go on
about this stranger as if he were the son of Jupiter--and poor Boris!
They never mention him, though there has been a big battle and Boris
may have been in it. If Boris were killed, it is easy to see that this
Ian Macrae would step into his place!"

"Nothing of that kind could happen! In thy own heart keep such foolish
thoughts," replied Vedder.

So the last days of September were restless and not very happy, for
there was a great storm prevailing, and the winds roared and the rain
fell in torrents and the sea looked as if it had gone mad. Before the
storm there was a report of a big battle, but no details of it had
reached them. For the Pentland Firth had been in its worst equinoctial
temper and the proviso added to all Orkney sailing notices, "weather
permitting," had been in full force for nearly a week.

But at length the storm was over and everyone was on the lookout for
the delayed shipping. Thora was pale with int