with this place who would accept of any civility. But then she has been away a long time."
If this was a taunt, unintentional or otherwise, he took no heed of it.
"What I really wished to see you about, however, was this," he went on. "It was only last night that I heard of the sheriff's judgment in the case of James Macdonald – James Macdonald, the crofter, at Cruagan – "
"I know him," said Mary. "But what case? I never heard of it!"
"An action brought by Mr. Purdie on your behalf," he answered briefly.
"Why was I not told of this?" she said.
"The proceedings began some little time ago," he said. "And, indeed, Miss Stanley, I must apologise to you for seeming to interfere. I do not wish to interfere in any way whatever; it would be most impertinent on my part; and besides – besides, I have no desire to interfere. But in this particular case I think you should know what is going on, for Macdonald is a determined man; and if the sheriff's officer and his concurrents come out this afternoon by the mail-car, as they are likely to do, I'm afraid there will be trouble. The sheriff has granted a decree of removal; but I don't think Macdonald will go; while it is just possible the other crofters may back him up. I thought if you would go along and ask the sheriff's officer to stay proceedings until Macdonald could be talked to by his own friends – "
"Well, of course I will!" said she, instantly. "But I want to know what this action is all about! It seems to me that I ought to be consulted before Mr. Purdie takes to evicting any of the tenants."
There was a curious, covert gleam of satisfaction in the young man's lustrous black eyes; but he went on to say very quietly —
"I am afraid Macdonald has put himself entirely in the wrong. For one thing, he is over two years in arrear with his rent; and that of itself, according to the Crofters Holding Act, forfeits his tenancy. And then, again, he refuses to pay because of reasons that won't hold water. He claims compensation for improvements – "
"Why not?" said she – promptly taking the side of the tenant, and talking to young Ross as if he were advocating the landlord's interest.
"Well," said Young Donald, "he has cut a few drains and covered them in; but the sheriff found that this was counterbalanced by his neglect of other parts of the croft, and that there was no just claim. His other reason for refusal was that he wanted an allowance made to him for Mr. Watson's sheep being permitted to graze over the Cruagan crofts after the crops were reaped."
"And why not?" said Mary again. "Why should Mr. Watson's sheep graze over the crofts? That seems to me a great injustice – unless compensation is given."
"Well, it is a practice of long standing," said the young man (and Käthchen, who cared very little about rents and holdings and drains, nevertheless thought he had so agreeable a voice that it was quite a pleasure to listen to him). "The crofters took the crofts knowing of this condition, and the rents were fixed accordingly. However, this is the present state of affairs, that the sheriff-substitute has decided against Macdonald – as he was bound to do, I admit. He has found him liable for arrears of rent, with interest and costs; and he has granted a warrant to turn him out. Now Macdonald is a stiff-necked man, a difficult man to deal with; and he doesn't know much English; it will be no use for the sheriff-officer to argue, and say he is only doing his duty – "
"I disapprove of the whole proceedings," said Mary, with decision. "Mr. Purdie had no right to go to such extremes without consulting me – and I will take care that it does not happen again. By the mail-car, did you say? Well, that won't be coming by Cruagan before half-past two; and I can be there by then. The sheriff's officer and his – his what did you call them?"
"His concurrents – assistants."
"They must wait for further instructions; and I will inquire into the matter myself."
He rose.
"I hope you will forgive me, Miss Stanley," said he, as he had said before, "for seeming to interfere. I have no wish to do anything of the kind. But I thought you ought to know in case there might be any trouble – which you could prevent."
"Mr. Ross," said she, "I am very much obliged to you. I – I don't get very much help – and – and I want to do what little I can for the people."
"Good morning!" said he; and he bowed to Kate Glendinning: he was going away without so much as shaking hands with either of them, so distant and respectful was his manner. But Mary, in a confused kind of fashion, did not seem to think this was right. She accompanied him to the door; and that she left open; then she went out with him into the hall.
"I cannot believe that James Macdonald should have any serious grudge against me," she said, "for I told Mr. Purdie to tell him that the tax for the dyke was abolished, and also that fifteen years of it was to be given back. And, besides that, I said to Macdonald myself that thirty shillings an acre was too much for that land; and I propose to have it reduced to a pound an acre when I have all the rents of the estate looked into."
"Do you think Purdie did tell him?" young Donald Ross asked coldly.
"If he has not!" said Mary … "But I am almost sure he did – I spoke to Macdonald myself almost immediately afterwards. And – and I wished to tell you, Mr. Ross," she continued (as if she were rather pleading for favour, or at least expecting approval), "that I have been down to the stranger fishermen at Ru-Minard, and I think it is all settled, and that they are going away peaceably. I am paying them for the lobster-traps that were burned – and perhaps a little more; and they understand that the Vagrant Act can be brought to bear on any others who may think of coming."
"Oh, they are going away?" said he.
"Yes."
"Mr. Purdie will be sorry for that."
"Why?"
"He could have had them removed, if he had wanted; but so long as they were an annoyance and vexation to the people here, he allowed them to remain – naturally."
These accents of contemptuous scorn: she was sorry to hear them somehow; and yet perhaps they were justified – she did not know.
"Good-bye," said she, at the hall door, and she held out her hand. "I am so much obliged to you."
And then of course he did shake hands with her in bidding her farewell – and raised his cap – and was gone.
Mary returned to the dining-room.
"Well, Mamie," said Käthchen, with a demure smile, "that is about the most extraordinary interview I ever heard of. A most handsome young gentleman calls upon a young lady – his first visit – and there is nothing talked of on either side but sheriff officers and summonses, rent, compensation, drains, crofts, grazing, and Acts of Parliament. Of course he was quite as bad as you; but all the same, you might at least have asked the poor man to stay to lunch."
"Oh, Käthchen!" Mary exclaimed, starting to her feet, her face on fire. "Shall I send Barbara after him? I never thought of it! How frightfully rude of me – and he has come all the way over from Heimra to tell me about this eviction. What shall I do? Shall I send after him?"
"I don't think you can," said Käthchen; "it would make the little oversight all the more marked. You'd better ask him the next time you see him – if you have forgotten certain warnings."
"What warnings?"
"Why, about his general character and his occupations," said
