you ask me, Minister,” the General remarked, “you feed that horse too well.”
“I expect you are right,” the Minister agreed, “but when she tells me that she is hungry, I don’t like to refuse her.”
The old groom, who had been with the Minister for years, grinned.
“You dinna say that, sir,” he said, “when we drinks too much at a funeral!”
The Minister shook his head and did not reply.
He had complained that after funerals, which in Scotland were attended only by men, the mourners were often so drunk on secretly distilled whisky from the moors that they could not find their way home.
The groom touched his cap respectfully and Vara waved to her mother and father as the Minister drove his carriage away from the front door.
She looked back to see her beloved parents standing on the steps of the house and she thought that they were looking a little forlorn.
‘They mind my leaving them,’ she told herself. ‘But Papa knows that I must do what I can to help the Clan.’
She waved her hand until she could see them no longer.
She then settled down comfortably to enjoy her drive.
They were going over the high road that would eventually take them to The Castle.
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