But the interior of the hotel, bright with the latest fastidiousness in
modern decoration and art-furniture, and gay with pictured canvases and
color, seemed to mock the sullen landscape, and the sterile crags amid
which the building was set. An attempt to make a pleasance in this
barren waste had resulted only in empty vases, bleak statuary, and
iron settees, as cold and slippery to the touch as the sides of their
steamer.

"It'll be a fine morning to-morra, and ther'll be a boat going away to
Kelpie for a peekneek in the ruins," said the porter, as the consul and
his fair companions looked doubtfully from the windows of the cheerful
hall.

A picnic in the sacred ruins of Kelpie! The consul saw the ladies
stiffening with indignation at this trespass upon their possible rights
and probable privileges, and glanced at them warningly.

"Do you mean to say that it is common property, and ANYBODY can go
there?" demanded Miss Elsie scornfully.

"No; it's only the hotel that owns the boat and gives the tickets--a
half-crown the passage."

"And do the owners, the McHulishes, permit this?"

The porter looked at them with a puzzled, half-pitying politeness. He
was a handsome, tall, broad-shouldered young fellow, with a certain
naive and gentle courtesy of manner that relieved his strong accent,
"Oh, ay," he said, with a reassuring smile; "ye'll no be troubled by
THEM. I'll just gang away noo, and see if I can secure the teekets."

An elderly guest, who was examining a time-table on the wall, turned to
them as the porter disappeared.

"Ye'll be strangers noo, and not knowing that Tonalt the porter is a
McHulish hissel'?" he said deliberately.

"A what?" said the astonished Miss Elsie.

"A McHulish. Ay, one of the family. The McHulishes of Kelpie were his
own forebears. Eh, but he's a fine lad, and doin' well for the hotel."

Miss Elsie extinguished a sudden smile with her handkerchief as her
mother anxiously inquired, "And are the family as poor as that?"

"But I am not saying he's POOR, ma'am, no," replied the stranger, with
native caution. "What wi' tips and gratooities and percentages on the
teekets, it's a bit of money he'll be having in the bank noo."

The prophecy of Donald McHulish as to the weather came true. The next
morning was bright and sunny, and the boat to Kelpie Island--a large
yawl--duly received its complement of passengers and provision
hampers. The ladies had apparently become more tolerant o