It never entered my happy little thoughts all this time that what was my delight might yet be Angus’s dole; for, surely, a school-girl is so interesting to no one else as herself, while she continually comes upon all the fresh problems in her nature.  So, when a day passed that I heard no step in the hall, no cheery voice rousing the sleepy echoes with my name, I was restless enough.  Monday, Tuesday,—­no Angus.  I ought to have thought whether or no he had found some of his fine friends, and if they had no right to a fragment of his time; yet I was but a child.  The third day dawned and passed, and at length, sitting there among the evening shadows in the long class-room, a little glumly, the doors clanged as of old, a loud, laughing sentence was tossed up to the little gray governess at the stair-head, then, three steps at a time, he had mounted, and was within,—­and what with my heart in my throat and its bewildered beating, I could not utter a word.  I but sprang to the window and made as if I had been amusing myself there:  I would have no Angus Ingestre be thinking that he was all the world to me, and I nought to him.

“A little ruffled,” said he, at the saucy shake of my head.  “Well, I sha’n’t tell you where I’ve been.  I’ve the right to go into the country for a day, have I not?  What is it to Alice Strathsay how often I go to Loch Rea?  There’s something Effie begged me to get you!” And he set down a big box on the table.

So, then, he had been to see Effie.  It was fair enough, and yet I couldn’t help the jealous pang.  I wouldn’t turn my head, though I did wonder what was in the big box, but, holding out my hand backward, I said,—­

“Well, it’s no odds where you’ve been, so long’s you’re here now.  Come and lean out of the window by me,—­it’s old times,—­and see the grand ladies roll by in their coaches, some to the opera, some to the balls.”

“Why should I watch the grand ladies roll by, when there’s one so very much grander beside me,” he said, laughing, but coming.  And so we stood together there and gazed down on the pretty sight, the beautiful women borne along below in the light of the lamps, with their velvets, their plumes, and their jewels, and we made little histories for them all, as they passed.

“They are only the ugly sisters,” said Angus, at length.  “But here is the true Cinderella waiting for her godmother.  Throw your cape over your hair, Ailie dear; the dew falls, and you’ll be taking cold.  There, it’s the godmother herself, and you’ll confess it, on seeing what miracles can be worked with this little magic-lantern of yours.  Come!” and he proceeded to open the box.

But I waited a minute still; it was seldom the sumptuous coaches rolled through this by-way which they had taken to-night in their gay procession, since the pavers had left the broad street beyond blocked up for the nonce, and I liked to glimpse this little opening into a life just beyond my sphere.