Duncan, bald-headed but with white and
bushy side-whiskers, was engaged in the serious business of oiling and
polishing the state harness, which had not been used for many months
past. But that did not matter. Thursday was the day for oiling the
harness, and so on Thursday he performed the task, never daring to
entrust a work so important to a subordinate.
In one corner of the little room Kenneth Forbes squatted upon a bench,
with an empty pine box held carelessly in his lap. While Duncan worked
the boy was busy with his pencil, but neither had spoken for at least
a half hour.
Finally the aged coachman, without looking up, enquired:
"What do ye think o' 'em, Kenneth lad?"
"Think o' whom, Don?"
"The young leddies."
"What young ladies?"
"Miss Jane's nieces, as Oscar brought from the station yesterday."
The boy looked astonished, and leaned over the box in his lap eagerly.
"Tell me, Don," he said. "I was away with my gun all yesterday, and
heard nothing of it."
"Why, it seems Miss Jane's invited 'em to make her a visit."
"But not yet, Don! Not so soon."
"Na'theless, they're here."
"How many, Don?"
"Two, lad.
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