and then she
stood a little longer, wondering whether she might not go straight home
without turning into the house. No; she could not. They were all
expected to stay the rest of the day and have tea, and visit with her
cousins, who lived at some distance, and had been little in their
father's house since they went to their own.

"Mind you are not to stay away, Hamish, bhodach," whispered Shenac, as
they turned towards the house; and Hamish, who had been thinking of it,
considered himself in honour bound to return after he had gone to see
that all was right at home.

It was not so very bad, after all. The two young wives were full of
their own affairs, and compared notes about the butter and cheese-making
which they had carried on during the summer, and talked about flannel
and full-cloth and the making of blankets in a way that must have set
their mother's heart at rest about their future as notable
house-keepers. And Shenac Bhan listened and joined, seemingly much
interested, but wondering all the time why she did not care a pin about
it all. Flannel and full-cloth, made with much labour and pains, as the
means of keeping Hamish and little Flora and the lads from the cold, had
been matters of intense interest; and butter put down, and cheese
disposed of, as the means of getting sugar and tea and other things
necessary to the comfort of her mother and the rest, had been prized to
their utmost value. But flannel and full-cloth, butter and cheese, were
in themselves, or as a means of wealth, matters of indifference.
Allister's good heart and strong arm were between them and a struggle
for these things now; and that made the difference.

But, as she sat listening and wondering, Shenac did not understand all
this, and felt vexed and mortified with herself at the change. Annie
and Mary, her cousins, were content to look forward to a long routine of
spinning and weaving, dairy-work and house-work, and all the rest. Why
should she not do the same? She used to do so. No; she used to work
without looking forward. She could do so still, if there were any need
for it--any good in it--if it were to come to anything. But to work on
for yards of flannel and pounds of butter that Flora and the rest, and
all the world indeed, would be just as well without--the thought of that
was not pleasant.

She grew impatient of her thoughts, as well as the talk, at last, and
went to help her aunt to set out the table for tea. Th