CHAPTER XXI.
Every afternoon, now, the moment dinner was over, Alec set off for the workshop, and did not return till eight o'clock, or sometimes later.
Mrs Forbes did not at all relish this change in his habits; but she had the good sense not to interfere.
One day he persuaded her to go with him, and see how the boat was getting on.

This enticed her into some sympathy with his new pursuit.
For there was the boat--a skeleton it is true, and not nearly ready yet for the clothing of its planks, or its final skin of paint--yet an undeniable boat to the motherly eye of hope.

And there were Alec and Willie working away before her eyes, doing their best to fulfil the promise of its looks.

A little quiet chat she had with George Macwha, in which he poured forth the praises of her boy, did not a little, as well, to reconcile her to his desertion of her.
"Deed, mem," said George, whose acquaintance with Scripture was neither extensive nor precise, "to my mind he's jist a fulfilment o' the prophecee, 'An auld heid upo' young shouthers;' though I canna richtly min' whilk o' the lesser prophets it is that conteens 't." But Mrs Forbes never saw a little figure, lying in a corner, half-buried in wood-shavings, and utterly unconscious of her presence, being fast asleep.
This was, of course, Annie Anderson, who having heard of the new occupation of her hero, had, one afternoon, three weeks before Mrs Forbes's visit, found herself at George's shop door, she hardly knew how.

It seemed to her that she had followed her feet, and they had taken her there before she knew where they were going.