"Oh, Arabella, dear," cried the girl, half pityingly, half laughingly, "why don't you run away?"
Miss Arabella looked up with a sudden fire in her eyes and a flush on her cheek. "Oh, Elsie! You don't mean it--really?"
"Of course I don't really mean it, Arabella," she answered, half alarmed at the unexpected effect of her words. "Where would you run? Only I do wish you didn't have so much managing."
Miss Arabella's head drooped. She seemed ashamed of her sudden outburst. "Oh, I'm all right," she said, in some confusion, and then, to hide it, added: "It seems awful nice to have you back, Elsie. I missed you dreadful."
The girl patted her hand affectionately. "Well, you're not likely to miss me any more for a long time," she said, with rather a forced smile.
"I s'pose you've learned near everything there is to know about singing now, anyway, haven't you?" asked Miss Arabella comfortably.
Elsie Cameron laughed. "I feel as if I'd just begun to get the faintest notion of it."
"Well, well, well! Music must be awful slow work. Is that why you got tired of it?"
"Yes; your ma was saying you didn't want to go back, though they'd all coaxed you."
The girl looked down the long, elm-bordered street; her golden-brown eyes had a hurt look, but her mouth was firm. She turned again to Miss Arabella with a faint smile. Her answer was apparently irrelevant.
"Don't you remember how Uncle Hughie used to be always telling us never to 'rastle' against the place we're put in?"
Miss Arabella looked at her, uncomprehending. In contrast to her narrow experience, Elsie Cameron seemed to possess all that heart could desire.
"Your Uncle Hughie's a wonderful wise man, Elsie," she said vaguely; then, with a deep sigh, "I suppose it's wicked to be always wantin' to do things you ain't doin'; but--I--it ain't very bad to pretend you're doin' them, so long as you do the real things, is it?" Her color was rising, and the girl looked at her with a kind curiosity. Even she knew little more of the real Arabella than the rest of the village did.
"Do you know, Arabella," she cried merrily, "I've long suspected you of leading a double life. And why shouldn't you? Why, Uncle Hughie says it's one of his greatest blessings. When he gets tired or racked with pain, he just pretends he's a chieftain of the Clan Cameron, living on his estates, and he says he's far happier than if he really were."