re a prolonged chat--bright, rambling, merry, thoughtful, just
as the mood occurred. She told him of her small adventures and the
incidents of her everyday life, so that he could delight himself with
vivid pictures of herself and her surroundings. And again and again she
hinted rather than said that she was continually thinking of the
Highlands, and of the great change in store for her.

"Yesterday morning," she wrote, "I was going down the Edgeware Road, and
whom should I see but two small boys, dressed as young Highlanders,
staring into the window of a toy-shop. Stalwart young fellows they were,
with ruddy complexions and brown legs, and their Glengarries
coquettishly placed on the side of their head; and I could see at once
that their plain kilt was no holiday dress. How could I help speaking to
them? I thought perhaps they had come from Mull. And so I went up to
them and asked if they would let me buy a toy for each of them. 'We dot
money,' says the younger, with a bold stare at my impertinence. 'But you
can't refuse to accept a present from a lady?' I said. 'Oh no, ma am,'
said the elder boy, and he politely raised his cap; and the accent of
his speech--well, it made my heart jump. But I was very nearly
disappointed when I got them into the shop; for I asked what their name
was; and they answered 'Lavender.' 'Why, surely, that is not a Highland,
name,' I said. 'No, ma'am,' said the elder lad; 'but my mamma is from
the Highlands, and we are from the Highlands, and we are going back to
spend the New-year at home.' 'And where is your home?' I asked; but I
have forgotten the name of the place; I understood it was somewhere away
in the North. And then I asked them if they had ever been to Mull. 'We
have passed it in the _Clansman_' said the elder boy. 'And do you know
one Sir Keith Macleod there?' I asked. 'Oh no, ma'am,' said he, staring
at me with his clear blue eyes as if I was a very stupid person, 'The
Macleods are from Skye.' 'But surely one of them may live in Mull,' I
suggested. 'The Macleods are from Skye,' he maintained, 'and my papa was
at Dunvegan last year.' Then came the business of choosing the toys; and
the smaller child would have a boat, though his elder brother laughed at
him, and said something about a former boat of his having been blown out
into Loch Rogue--which seemed to me a strange name for even a Highland
loch. But the elder lad, he must needs have a sword; and when I asked
him what he wanted t