ars younger. Aline and I might be mistaken about the girl's feelings
for Ian. Very likely it was no more than a romantic sort of gratitude;
and though I absolved the child from the smallest taint of mercenary
motive, it was almost impossible that a sleepless night had not given
her some wise counsel. She was too sensitive and quick-witted a girl, I
reflected, not to have seen that she could not go on living with her
mother, and that it was a necessity to find a niche somewhere. All these
young men saw this also, though they knew no more than the fact that
they were prayed to consider Mrs. Bal an elder sister of "Miss
Ballantree," therefore they were hastening to offer her sheltering
niches, more or less desirable. In other circumstances, they would have
waited a few days, long enough at least for Barrie to know which was
which, and get their features and some of their characteristics ticketed
with the right labels; but as it was, each saw he had no time to waste
if he didn't want his friend or foe to get in ahead of him. While we
were at the Castle, looking at Mons Meg (which recalled Thrieve) and the
banqueting-hall of armour with its faded banners and fadeless memories;
gaping at the mysterious place over the entrance door where, in a
bricked-up alcove, a baby skeleton was found wrapped in cloth of gold
embroidered with a royal monogram; walking through the wainscoted room
where Mary of Guise died; gazing at the long mislaid crown of Bruce
("the Honours of Scotland"); seeing sweet Queen Margaret's Chapel where
the Black Rood lay till it went in state down the hill to make Holyrood
holy; peering at the wall-stairway down which the Douglas boys were
dragged after the "black dinner"; admiring the kilted soldiers; and
drinking in the view over hill and valley and mountains, towns and
nestling villages, the vast, colourful checkerboard of beautiful Mary
Stuart's journeys, flights and fightings: while beholding treasures and
splendours which are as the red drops of Scotland's heart's blood, man
after man took his place at Barrie's side and became her cicerone. Each
talked with her awhile, and after a few brief minutes allowed a change
of partners, the discarded one humbly retiring to Mrs. James's side. It
was really funny; or at least so it seemed until enough self-assertion
came back to admit of my entering the lists. Then I promptly lost my
sense of humour, and had no wish to look for it. I wanted only to look
at Barrie, wh