"For what, my dear lady?"

She started a little and glanced at him apprehensively. "My dear lady"
hardly indicated love's divinest frenzy.

"For treating me shamefully!"

"This is strong language," he smiled indulgently. "Tell me now, I say,
just tell me what I've done."

Thus invited, the lady described his conduct in leaving her alone and
unprotected in a London hotel, to the neglect of his affectionate
assurances and the shame and confusion of herself, in language which did
no more than justice to the theme.

"But I left Jean to look after you," he protested.

"When I want your daughter to look after me I shall ask you for her
assistance," she replied tartly. "You broke your word to me, and you
can't deny it."

"I do deny it," he replied, with dignity. "I told you I should travel
north--"

"Oh!" she interrupted, with scathing contempt, "you were very
straightforward and gentlemanly, I know!"

He looked at her ever more critically. A recollection of Ellen and the
pine-wood returned forcibly.

"Put it as you will," he replied philosophically, and turned towards the
fire.

She watched him jealously.

"But why did you run away?" she persisted. "Where have you been since?
Heriot, I insist upon knowing that--I insist!"

She rose and came towards him. He took her hand and pressed it gently.

"I shall tell you all," he said, as he led her back to her chair and
drew another towards it. When they were about three feet apart he sat
down himself and bent confidentially towards her. Yet he did not attempt
to bridge entirely the intervening space.

"I have been up to Perthshire," he began, "assisting dear Ellen Berstoun
to break off her engagement with Andrew."

Mrs. Dunbar sat up with a much more alert expression.

"I am glad to hear it," she said, with decision.

"I discovered that Frank and she loved one another. I am very glad to
say he is now engaged to her instead."

She smiled at last.

"Do tell me what Andrew said!"

He shook his head.

"I'm afraid he is somewhat unreasonably annoyed."

She smiled more brightly still.

"How very good for him! Really, Heriot, you have done a very sensible
thing indeed."

Heriot smiled back.

"It seemed to me," said he, "that there was really too much disparity in
years. The young should marry the young, Madge."

"I agree with you entirely."

It was his smile that now seemed to indicate an increasing satisfaction.

"You agree also that under those cir