ld, shrill yell overcoming the low thunder of the Atlantic
outside, and he paid but little attention to the old and familiar
_Cumhadh na Cloinne_. Then Hamish put the whiskey and the claret on the
table, and withdrew. They were left alone.

"And now, Keith," said his cousin Janet, with the wise gray eyes grown
cheerful and kind, "you will tell us about all the people you saw in
London; and was there much gayety going on? And did you see the Queen at
all? and did you give any fine dinners?"

"How can I answer you all at once, Janet?" said he, laughing in a
somewhat nervous way. "I did not see the Queen, for she was at Windsor;
and I did not give any fine dinners, for it is not the time of year in
London to give fine dinners; and indeed I spent enough money in that way
when I was in London before. But I saw several of the friends who were
very kind to me when I was in London in the summer. And do you remember,
Janet, my speaking to you about the beautiful young lady--the actress I
met at the house of Colonel Ross of Duntorme?"

"Oh yes, I remember very well."

"Because," said he--and his fingers were rather nervous as he took out a
package from his breast-pocket--"I have got some photographs of her for
the mother and you to see. But it is little of any one that you can
understand from photographs. You would have to hear her talk, and see
her manner, before you could understand why every one speaks so well of
her, and why she is a friend with every one--"

He had handed the packet to his mother, and the old lady had adjusted
her eye-glasses, and was turning over the various photographs.

"She is very good-looking," said Lady Macleod. "Oh yes, she is very
good-looking. And that is her sister?"

"Yes."

Janet was looking over them too.

"But where did you get all the photographs of her Keith?" she said.
"They are from all sorts of places--Scarborough, Newcastle, Brighton--"

"I got them from herself," said he.

"Oh do you know her so well?"

"I know her very well. She was the most intimate friend of the people
whose acquaintance I first made in London," he said, simply, and then he
turned to his mother; "I wish photographs could speak, mother, for then
you might make her acquaintance; and as she is coming to the Highlands
next year--"

"We have no theatre in Mull, Keith," Lady Macleod said, with a smile.

"But by that time she will not be an actress at all: did I not tell you
that before?" he said, eagerly.