ad, and large,
solemn gray eyes. Fay had taught him to say "dada," and would cover
him with passionate kisses when the baby lips fashioned the words.
"Yes, my little boy shall go home to his father some day, when he can
run about and speak quite plain," she would tell him; and at the
thought of that day, when she should give him up to Hugh, she would
bury her face in the fat creasy neck, and wet it with tears. "How would
she ever live without her little child?" she thought; but she knew,
for all that, that she would give him up.

When Fergus returned to luncheon, he found Aunt Jeanie had worked
herself almost into a fever--her pretty old face was flushed and
tremulous, her eyes were dim when Fay came into the room carrying her
boy.

"He is far too heavy for you, Mrs. St. Clair," exclaimed Fergus,
hastening to relieve her. "I know mothers' arms are generally strong,
but still this big fellow is no light weight. What are you going to do
with yourself this afternoon? Aunt Jeanie always takes a nap in Uncle
Donald's room, but I suppose you have not come to the age for
napping."

"No," returned Fay with a smile; "but Jean has finished her
preparation for the strange gentleman, and she wants to take baby down
to Logill; Mrs. Mackay has promised her some eggs. It will do the boy
good, will it not, Mrs. Duncan?" turning to the old lady; "and as I
have been working all the morning, and it is such a lovely afternoon,
I think I will go down to the falls."

"That is an excellent idea," returned Fergus with alacrity before his
aunt could answer. He had to put down the carver to rub his hands, he
was so pleased with the way things were turning out--Mrs. St. Clair
safely at the falls, where they knew exactly where to find her; Jean,
with the boy and her basket of eggs comfortably occupied all the
afternoon; and Aunt Jeanie obliged to stay with Uncle Donald. Why, he
would have the coast clear and no mistake. Sir Hugh would have no
difficulty in making his explanations with the Manse parlor empty of
its womankind.

He had received a second telegram, and knew that the expected visitor
might be looked for in an hour's time; but it was long before that
that he saw Jean with the boy in one arm, and the basket on the other,
strike out bravely down the Innery Road, from which a cross lane led
in the direction of the village where the accommodating Mrs. Mackay
lived.

A few minutes later Mrs. St. Clair passed the parlor window. It was