"Go to an hotel?" said Margaret indignantly, in reply to a suggestion from Lady Elspeth. "Indeed you\'ll do nothing of the kind,"—and, as the old lady hesitated still,—"If you do I\'ll never speak to you again as long as I live."

"Oh well, I couldn\'t stand that—"

"Of course you couldn\'t. Neither could I. An hotel indeed!"—with withering scorn—"And we with four empty bedrooms crying aloud at night because two of their fellows are occupied and they are left out in the cold! An hotel! I\'d just like to see you!"

"My guidness! Is she often like this, Jock?"

"Oh, always! I thought you knew her. Why couldn\'t you warn me in time?—No!" as Lady Elspeth attempted to speak—"It\'s too late now. We\'re bound for life. There\'s no cutting the bond. The Vicar told us so."

"You\'re both clean daft together," said the old lady, with dancing eyes. "Well, I\'ll stop in one of your crying bedrooms—on conditions. We\'ll talk about that later on. Where\'s the rest of the island, and how do you get to it?"

"Old ladies and luggage ride. We youngsters walk. There\'s Charles waiting for you at the carriage. There you are! Au revoir!"

As the young people breasted the steep, Pixley—forgetting entirely his vow never to do it on foot again—unfolded to them Lady Elspeth\'s idea, which simply was, that if the Red House could hold them all,—of which she had her doubts, in spite of his assertions,—they should all share expenses and such household duties as so large a party would involve.

"You see—if you don\'t mind it, Mrs. Graeme,"—with an apologetic look at Margaret,—"it will gi............