"A long way from here."

"And it iss no wonder," said Mairi, "she will neffer hef been in sa
Lewis. I wass neffer thinking the world wass so big, and it wass many
a time since me and Mr. M'Alpine hef come away from Styornoway I wass
thinking it wass too far for me effer to get back again. But it is
many a one will say to me, before I hef left the Lewis, that I wass
not to come home unless you wass coming too, and I wass to bring you
back with me, Miss Sheila. And where is Bras, Miss Sheila?"

"You will see him by and by. He is out in the garden now." She said
"gyarden" without knowing it.

"And will he understood the Gaelic yet?"

"Oh yes," Sheila said. "And he is sure to remember you."

There was no mistake about that. When Mairi went into the back garden
the demonstrations of delight on the part of the great deerhound were
as pronounced as his dignity and gravity would allow. And Mairi fairly
fell upon his neck and kissed him, and addressed to him a hundred
endearing phrases in Gaelic, every word of which it was quite obvious
that the dog understood. London was already beginning to be less
terrible to her. She had met and talked with Sheila. Here was Bras.
A portrait of the King of Borva was hung up inside, and all round the
rooms were articles which she had known in the North, before Sheila
had married and brought them away into this strange land.

"You have never asked after my husband, Mairi," said Sheila, thinking
she would confuse the girl.