“Wonder why men are so much decenter to girls than to us?” mused Andrew.
“Oh, well; his housekeeper likes us best, anyway. Everyone’s got their cranks.”
“Fore,” cried a clear little voice, and the ball fell with a soft “plop” at the foot of the apple tree.
“She throws very well for a girl,” said Colin as he dropped onto the grass. “Let’s finish the game.”
“What do you mean by ‘fore’?” asked Mr. Knagg.
“Heads, you know,” said Jean; but her host was more puzzled than ever, for he had not even a bowing acquaintance with the royal and ancient game. They stared at each other in silence for a minute, then Jean, remembering that one of the most important precepts of her clan was to accept no service without rendering some return, said shyly: “Will I sing you a song?”
“Pray do!” exclaimed Mr. Knagg; and his eyeglasses flew off his nose, he frowned so hard.
“My love’s in Germanie--send him hame! send him hame! My love’s in Germanie--send him hame!” Jean only sang three verses. Elspeth never taught her the last two, and when the last notes full of longing had died away, she added cheerfully: “But he iss at home just now.”
“My father. Nearly all my songs iss about father.”
“Really!” ejaculated Mr. Knagg, and blew his nose noisily. “So that’s Scotch?”
“All my songs iss Scottish. I promised Elspeth, and I will know them all some day. Goot-bye!” and Jean, settling Tammy more comfortably on her arm, prepared to depart. As she spoke she had lifted her face to be kissed, and Mr. Knagg kissed her.
“He iss a dull man,” said Jean confidentially to Colin; “but he was douce enough to me.”
The man in question sat in his favorite chair and read his Sunday newspaper upside down. It was thirty-five years since he had kissed a child!
Colin and Andrew were at school, father and mother had gone out in the dog-cart, taking Maighda with them for the run, Elspeth was ironing frocks, and Jean entertaining Tammy and all the dolls at tea on the lawn. Suddenly she threw back her head and listened--no one had such quick ears as Jean--the color rushed to her face, and she scampered across the grass, round by the side of the house, and out at the garden gate; bareheaded, with flying rosy feet, she raced to the end of the terrace, and as she ran the sound which so excited her grew louder. It was the pipes!