Kenneth McAlpine: A Tale of Mountain, Moorland and Sea. Stables Gordon

you come for a lesson to-day?” said Miss Grant, entering.

      “No, thank you. Miss Grant.”

      “Well, I’m glad, because I was going out. Little Miss Redmond is here with her governess. They have the pony trap, and I am going to their glen with them to lunch. Come to the drawing-room; they are there.”

      Miss Redmond was the only daughter of an Englishman of wealth, who had bought land in an adjoining glen. Mr Redmond himself was seldom at home – if, indeed, Scotland could be called his home – and his wife was an invalid.

      But there was nothing of the invalid about little Jessie, the daughter. Quite a child she was, hardly more than eight, but with all the quiet dignity and easy affability that is only to be found among children of the bon ton.

      Archie was simply afraid of her. Kenneth got on better, however. He answered all her innocent but pointed questions, as if he were talking to his grandmother. But Jessie was really asking for information, and Kenneth knew it, so the two had quite a serious old-fashioned conversation.

      Well, Kenneth seemed a gentleman born. He sat easily in his chair, he held his cap easily, and behaved himself with polite sang froid. Miss Grant was proud of Kenneth.

      But poor Archie looked ill at ease.

      Kenneth told Jessie the story of the little black rabbit, and Jessie was much interested.

      “What did it look like?” she asked.

      Kenneth glanced towards Archie.

      “He just looked,” he answered, “as Archie is looking now, as if waiting a chance to bolt.”

      This was a very mischievous speech, but Kenneth could not refrain from saying what he thought.

      “Poor boy?” said Jessie, as if she had been Archie’s mother; “he appears to be very frightened. What beautiful hair he has! It is just like mine.”

      This was true, only Jesssie’s was longer and not bleached. Kenneth sat looking half wonderingly at Jessie, longer than politeness would dictate.

      “What are you thinking about?” said Jessie.

      “I was thinking,” said Kenneth, candidly, “I’d give all the world to be able to talk English in the pretty way you do.”

      “Some day,” Jessie said to her governess, “we will go and see the sheep, Miss Gale. Remember that place. Put it down in your notes. We are to see a fairy knoll and a smugglers’ cave. It will be so delightful.”

      “We go to London soon for the winter,” said Miss Gale, “but will come and see you, Kenneth, in spring or summer.”

      “Miss Gale,” insisted the imperious Jessie, “I haven’t seen you use your tablets.”

      So Miss Gale smilingly took her tablets out and noted the engagement to visit the sheep and see the fairy knoll.

      “He has a flute,” said Archie, with sudden determination not to sit mute all the time; “make him play.”

      And Kenneth had to play, just the same old melodies that the Scotch so dearly love; but as he played there came so sweet and sad an expression into English Jessie’s face, that Kenneth would have played for hours to please her.