“Yes, my dear!” said Helen, warmly, “that I will.”

“Thank you.  And”—­still hesitating—­“please would you always call me ‘my dear’ instead of ‘my lord;’ and might I call you Helen?”

So they “made a paction ’twixt them twa”—­the poor little helpless, crippled boy, and the bright, active, energetic girl—­the earl’s son and minister’s daughter—­one of those pactions which grow out of an inner similitude which counteracts all outward dissimilarity; and they never broke it while they lived.

“Has my lamb enjoyed himself?” inquired Mrs. Campbell, anxiously and affectionately, when she reappeared from the Manse kitchen.  Then, with a sudden resumption of dignity, “I beg your pardon, Miss Cardross, but this is the first time his lordship has ever been out to dinner.”

“Oh, nurse, how I wish I might go out to dinner every Sunday!  I am sure this has been the happiest day of all my life.”

Chapter 4

If the “happiest day in all his life” had been the first day the earl spent at Cairnforth Manse, which very likely it was, he took the first possible opportunity of renewing his happiness.

Early on Monday forenoon, while Helen’s ever-active hands were still busy clearing away the six empty porridge plates, and the one tea-cup which had contained the beverage which the minister loved, but which was too dear a luxury for any but the father of the family, Malcolm Campbell’s large shadow was seen darkening the window.

“There’s the earl!” cried Helen, whose quick eye had already caught sight of the white little face muffled up in Malcolm’s plaid, and the soft black curls resting on his shoulder, damp with rain, and blown about by the wind, for it was what they called at Loch Beg a “coarse” day.

“My lord was awful’ set upon coming,” said Malcolm apologetically; “and when my lord taks a thing into his heid, he’ll aye do’t, ye ken.”

“We are very glad to see the earl,” returned the minister, who nevertheless looked a little perplexed; for, while finishing his breakfast, he had been confiding to Helen how very nervous he felt about this morning’s duties at the Castle—­how painful it would be to teach a child so afflicted, and how he wished he had thought twice before he undertook the charge.  And Helen had been trying to encourage him by telling him all that had passed between herself and the boy—­how intelligent he had seemed, and how eager to learn.  Still, the very fact that they had been discussing him made Mr. Cardross feel slightly confused.  Men shrink so much more than women from any physical suffering or deformity; besides, except those few moments in the church, this was really the first time he had beheld Lord Cairnforth; for on Sundays it was the minister’s habit to pass the whole time between sermons in his study, and not join the family table until tea.

“We are very glad to see the earl at all times,” repeated he, but hesitatingly, as if not sure that he was quite speaking the truth.