Lois, lovely under her mounting colour, continued busy with her porridge. Lana said in my ear:

“She is a wild thing, Euan, and endures neither plaguing nor wooing easily. How I have gained her I do not know� . Perhaps because I am aging very fast these days, and she hath a heart as tender as a forest dove’s.”

Lois looked up, seeing us whispering together.

“Uncouth manners!” said she. “I am greatly ashamed of you both.”

I thought to myself, wondering, how utter a change had come over the characters of these two in twice as many weeks! Lois had now something of that quick and mischievous gaiety that once was Lana’s; and the troubled eyes that once belonged to Lois now were hers no longer, but Lana’s.