ments of the children's bread,
without feeling ourselves to be altogether "dogs".

Fortune went home that night with a not unhappy, almost a satisfied,
heart. She sat back in the carriage, close beside that other heart which
she believed to be the truest in all the world, though it had never been
hers. There was a tremendous clatter of talking and laughing and fun of
all sorts, between David Dalziel and the little Roys on the box, and the
Misses Moseley sitting just below them, as they had insisted doing, no
doubt finding the other two members of the party a little "slow."

Nevertheless Mr. Roy and Miss Williams took their part in laughing with
their young people, and trying to keep them in order; though after a
while both relapsed into silence. One did at least, for it had been a
long day and she was tired, being, as she had said, "not so young as she
had been." But if any of these lively young people had asked her the
question whether she was happy, or at least contented, she would have
never hesitated about her reply. Young, gay, and prosperous as they
were, I doubt if Fortune Williams would have changed lots with any one of
them all.

Chapter 6

As it befell, that day at Balcarras was the last of the bright days, in
every sense, for the time being. Wet weather set in, as even the most
partial witness must allow does occasionally happen in Scotland, and the
domestic barometer seemed to go down accordingly. The girls grumbled at
being kept in-doors, and would willingly have gone out golfing under
umbrellas, but Auntie was remorseless. They were delicate girls at best,
so that her watch over them was never-ceasing, and her patience
inexhaustible.

David Dalziel also was in a very trouble-some mood, quite unusual for
him. He came and went, complained bitterly that the girls were not
allowed to go out with him; abused the place, the climate, and did all
those sort of bearish things which young gentlemen are sometimes in the
habit of doing, when--when that wicked little boy whom they read about at
school and college makes himself known to them as a pleasant, or
unpleasant, reality.

Miss Williams, whom, I am afraid, was far too simple a woman for the new
generation, which has become so extraordinarily wise and wide-awake,
opened her eyes and wondered why David was so unlike his usual self. Mr.
Roy, too, to whom he behaved worse than to any one else, only the elder
man quietly ignored it all, and was v