he was
in no haste to go. He spoke in slow, unwilling sentences, as he had
done many times before, of the mysterious dealings of Providence with
the family, making long pauses between. And through his talk and his
silence the widow sat shedding a few quiet tears in the dark, and now
and then uttering a word of reply.

What was the good of it all Shenac would have liked to shake him, and to
bid him "say his say" and go; but the elder seemed to have no say, at
least concerning Hugh. He went slowly through his accustomed round of
condolence with her mother and advice to the boys and Shenac, and, as he
rose to go, added something about a bee which some of the neighbours had
been planning to help the widow with the ploughing and sowing of her
land, and then he went away.

"Some of the neighbours," repeated Shenac in a whisper to her brother.
"That's the elder's way of heaping coals on my head--good man!"

"What do you suppose the elder cares about a girl like you, or Angus Dhu
either?" asked Hamish with a shrug.

Shenac laughed, but had no time to answer.

"I was afraid it might be about wee Hughie that the elder wanted to
speak," said the mother with a sigh of relief as she came in from the
door, where she had bidden the visitor good-night.

"And what about Hughie?" asked Shenac, resuming her spinning. She knew
very well what about him; but her mother had not told her, and this was
as good a way as any to begin about their plans for the summer.

Instead of answering her question, the mother said, after a moment's
silence,--

"He's a good man, Elder McMillan."

"Oh yes, I daresay he's a good man," said Shenac with some sharpness;
"but that's no reason why he should want to have our Hughie."

The little boys were all in bed by this time, and Hamish and Shenac were
alone with their mother. After a little impatient twitching of her
thread, Shenac put aside her wheel, swept up the hearth, and moved about
putting things in order in the room, and then she came and sat down
beside her mother. She did not speak, however; she did not know what to
say. Any allusion to the summer's work was almost surer to make her
mother shed tears, and Shenac could not bear to grieve her. She darted
an impatient glance at Hamish, who seemed to have no intention of
helping her to-night. He was sitting with his face upon his hands, just
as he had been sitting through the elder's visit, and Shenac could not
catch his eye. It seemed