cLeod and making off with her dog, the moment we could identify him,
tears out the offending illustration in case either we or anyone else
in the neighbourhood should see it? He admitted, by the way, that he
never went into port if he could help it."

"Well, anyway," I said, "we'll have a look for the paper and find the
missing page."

"You noticed the date?" Dennis asked, anxiously.

"Oh! it was this week's issue," I replied.

"Do they take it at the house?" he inquired, again with a note of
anxiety.

"Not that I know of, but we'll rake one up somewhere, don't you fret.
And, I say, this is a fine way to welcome a visitor; you haven't even
said how-do to your host and hostess. I'm most awfully sorry."

"Don't be an ass, Ronnie," said Dennis, cheerfully. "With the utmost
respect, as you barrister chaps would say, I hadn't noticed your
departure from the requirements of conventional hospitality. I
wouldn't have missed this for all the world and a bit of Bond Street."

So then we hurried to the house with a nervous energy, which spoke
eloquently to our state of suppressed excitement.

"All the same," Den muttered dolefully, as we hurried down the stable
path, "it's going to be what the Americans would call 'some' wireless
invention that can plant a grown-up mountain in the middle of an
innocent river in the twinkling of an eyelash."

"It is, indeed, old fellow," I agreed, "but don't let us worry about
that. We'll get in and see Myra and the General, and then have a look
round for the _Pictures_--the paper you were looking at."

We found Myra sitting on the verandah and wondering what on earth had
kept us, and if we had changed our minds and gone straight back south
with Garnesk.

"I'm most awfully sorry, darling," I apologised. "It's all my fault,
of course. We went to Glasnabinnie, and since then I've been showing
Dennis the river and generally forgetting my duties as deputy host."

"What did you go to the river for?" Myra asked, suspiciously.

"Oh! just to have a look round, you know, dear. It's a very nice
river," I replied, airily.

"Ronnie, dear, please," she said gently, laying her hand on my arm and
turning her veiled and shaded face to mine, "please don't joke about
it. I can't bear to think of you running risks there."

I looked at my beautiful, blind darling, and a pang shot through me.

"God knows I'm not joking about it, dearest," I said sadly.

"I know you weren't really, Ronnie. But, pleas