girlhood had budded
and blossomed. All at once Barrie, in her quaintness, became a readable
riddle to Somerled.

The two gates in the high wall were kept bolted, but there was a
jangling bell for each, the gate for visitors (it was almost
supererogatory), and the gate for tradesmen and servants. An elderly and
sullenly astonished woman opened the visitors' gate for Somerled, and
made of her lean form a barrier lest he should try to pass. But she
being narrowly built, on somewhat Gothic lines, and the gateway being
broad, Somerled saw past the flying buttresses of her skirts into the
background. And it was this background that explained in a flash why the
girl knew less of life than a bird which has learned to use its wings;
also the reason why she could never return to waste her young years
behind the garden wall of Hillard House. The thought came into
Somerled's mind that it would be interesting to show her the world she
had never seen, not only between Carlisle and Edinburgh, but over the
hills and far away, as far as the purple island of Dhrum, set in its
sunset frame of ocean gold--or even farther. That could not be, of
course, but the picture was pleasant.

He had prepared himself to be ingratiating; but he realized that
ingratiation was not a successful line to pursue with dragons. Instead
of inquiring politely if Mrs. MacDonald were at home, he said bluntly,
"I wish to see Mrs. MacDonald; I have business with her--not my
business, but hers. And you may tell her I am not The MacDonald of
Dhrum, but _a_ MacDonald from Dhrum, a very different thing."

He knew well that the name of Somerled would be no "Open Sesame" to this
door, and he rather enjoyed the knowledge. It was clear at once that he
had used the right key. Perhaps no other would have served a stranger.
Anna Case was not a Scotswoman, but the name of MacDonald was respected
within these gates, no matter who bore it, and this dark man, with the
blue eyes that went through you like bright steel blades, didn't look
like one who would claim what he had no right to claim. She bade him
follow her into the house, which he did; into the hall; and so to a
drearier drawing-room than he had ever entered. There had perhaps been
some as gray and grim on his island of Dhrum; but in those days he had
known nothing of drawing-rooms.

This was not even early Victorian. It was mid-Victorian, and rubbing and
brushing had given the ugly furniture no time to mellow. He sat