In her own apartment, Nadine Johnstone listened to
Janet Fairbarn's sobbing plaint, as the heart-happy Mattie Jones
flew around the rooms making her young mistress's boxes. Nadine
was still in an entrancing dream of freedom, life, and love, and
the cunning Scotswoman's plaint was all unheeded. Major Hardwicke
was announced, "upon urgent business."
"I cannot tell you yet, darling, just how we vanquished the old
ogre," said he. "Be brave, and remember that a feast of long-deferred
love-tidings awaits you to-night. I have already sent away all my
own luggage. A horse and a well-mounted orderly will be here at
four, and so I shall not lose you from sight even a moment until
you are safe in General Wragge's home at Edgemere. Let the maid
return alone here to-morrow and remove all your effects we may
overlook. I will dispatch the luggage and ride after your carriage."
"The proprieties, you know," he laughed, as he vanished, after
stealing a kiss.
"The master's in a woeful way," mourned Janet. "To think of your
father's only bairn leaving her ain house so! The master's half
daft with his troubles, for they've scattered and lost the bit
bookie--the work of years!
"Though there's the braw American scholar, tho', to aid him now.
He hates you, my poor bairn, for your poor dead mother's sake! It's
afearfu' hard heart these Frasers carried. I know them of old!"
"Do you mean to tell me that the 'Banker's Folly' is really my own
house?" said Nadine, her cheek flushing crimson at the insult to
the memory of her beloved dream mother.
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