“The only thing is I told Kilwhillie you’d like to have some time with him at Knocknacolly. I mean to say if we’re taking on the place right away I think you want to get wise to the conditions there. After all, we’ll have to make quite a few arrangements before we go back to the States next month. I want to get hold of an architect and have him hustle next winter.”

“I don’t see that Kilwhillie will be much use over choosing an architect, Chester. And what about the legal part of it?”

“Why, I thought I’d have our London solicitors put that through.”

“Don’t you think it would be better if we employed a Scottish lawyer? Scottish law is quite different from English law, you know.”

“How’s it different?”

“I don’t know exactly how, but I know it’s much better and much cheaper.”

“But do you know any Scottish lawyers?”

“I heard of a young Scottish lawyer the other day who was very highly spoken of. James Buchanan was his name. I have his address in Glasgow. Wouldn’t it be a good plan if I asked him to come up here to take your instructions? And he might know of a good architect. I think we ought to employ one of the younger Scottish architects, don’t you, Chester?”

“I don’t mind how young he is if he doesn’t try to make me live in one of those frozen cheeses like we saw on Friday. Gee! That was terrible.”

“I want to have one of the artists of the Scottish Renaissance. I don’t suppose you’ve heard about the Scottish Renaissance.”

“Can’t say I have. What’s it stand for?”

“The rebirth of the whole country.”

“That’s O.K. by me. Only I’d like to use reborn artists who have been weaned if it’s all the same to you. But see here, honey, I want you to have all the fun you can get out of this little place. It’s yours. Got me?”

“Oh, Chester!”

“Yes, you’re to be the owner of Knocknacolly.”

“Chester, how sweet of you!”

“Well, I guess I’ll go and dress myself now for this stag-hunt. If you don’t want to go over to Knocknacolly with Kilwhillie, you’ll have to tell him yourself.”

“All right, Chester. But I’m not going to get up yet awhile.”

“Get up nothing,” said the young financier. “I wouldn’t he jumping around in pajamas at this time of the morning if I didn’t think Ben Nevis would be singing Kathleen Mavourneen to me in a minute.”

Carrie dozed off again, but was awakened about seven o’clock by Chester’s coming back into the room.

“Say, this deer-stalking seems to be a pretty serious business,” he announced.

“What’s the matter, Chester?”

“I’ve been sent back to put on different clothes.”