beginning to
look forward to the little pause in outdoor work that was to give her
time for the wool again, when something happened. It was something
which Shenac declared delighted her more than anything that had happened
for a long time; and yet it filled her with dismay. An uncle, a brother
of their mother, who resided in the neighbourhood of the C--- Springs,
celebrated for their beneficial effects on persons troubled with
rheumatic complaints, sent for Hamish to pass the rest of the summer at
his house. The invitation was urgent. Hamish would be sure to get much
benefit from the use of the baths, and would return home before winter,
a new man.

Hamish alone hesitated; all the rest declared that he must go, and none
more decidedly than Shenac. In the first delighted moment, she thought
only of the good that Hamish was to get, and not at all of how they were
to get on without him. She did not draw back when she thought of it,
but worked night and day to get his things ready before the appointed
time.

I do not know whether the union between twins is more tender and
intimate than that between other brothers and sisters, but when Hamish
went away it seemed to Shenac that half her heart had gone with him.
The house seemed desolate, the garden and fields forsaken. Her longing
for a sight of his face was unspeakable.

All missed him. A strange silence seemed to fall upon the household.
They had hardly missed the master, in the bustle that had preceded the
going away of Hamish; but now they missed them both. The quiet grew
irksome to Dan, and he used in the evenings to go elsewhere--to Angus
Dhu's or the Camerons'--thus leaving it all the quieter for the rest.
The mother fretted a little for the lame boy, till a letter came telling
that he had arrived safe and well, and not very tired; and then she was
content.

As for Shenac, she betook herself with more energy than ever to her
work. She did not leave herself time to be lonely. It was just the
first moment of coming into the house and the sitting down at meals that
she found unbearable. For the first few days her appetite quite failed
her--a thing that had never happened within her memory before. But try
as she might, the food seemed to choke her. There was nothing for it
but to work, within doors or without, till she was too weary to stand,
and then go to bed.

And, indeed, there was plenty to do. Not too much, however, Shenac
thought--though havin