poke of that Sunday walk in the valley below the Ulland links, and
the crossing of a swollen little stream on a rotting and rickety log.

'I _had_ to go,' she explained apologetically. 'Hermione had gone on and
forgotten the puppy hadn't learnt to follow. I was afraid he'd lose
himself.'

'It _was_ a dangerous place to go across,' he said, as if to justify
some past opinion.

Her eyes were a little mischievous. 'I never thought _you'd_ come.'

'Why?' he demanded.

'Oh, because I thought you'd be too----' His slow look quickened as if
to surprise in her some reflection upon his too solid flesh--or might it
even be upon the weight of years? But the uncritical admiration in her
face must have reassured him before the words, 'I thought you'd be too
grand. It was delightful to find you weren't.'

He kept his eyes on her. 'Are you always so happy?'

'Oh, I hope not. That would be rather too inhuman, wouldn't it?'

'Too celestial, perhaps!' He laughed--but he was looking into the blue
of her eyes as if through them he too had caught a glimpse of Paradise.
'I remember thinking at Ulland,' he said more slowly again, 'I had never
seen any one quite so happy.'

'I was happy at Ulland. But I'm not happy now.'

'Then your looks belie you.'

'No, I am very sad. I have to go away from this delightful London to
Scotland. I shall be away for weeks. It's too dismal.'

'Why do you go?'

'My grandfather makes me. He hates London. And his dreary old house on a
horrible windy hill--he simply loves that!'

'And you don't love it _at all_. I see.' He seemed to be thinking out
something.

Compunction visited the face before him. 'I didn't mean to say I didn't
love it _at all_. It's like those people you care to be with for a
little while, but if you must go being with them for ever you come to
hate them--almost.'

They sat silent for a moment, then with slow reflectiveness, like one
who thinks aloud, he said--

'I have to go to Scotland next week.'

'Do you! What part?'

'I go to Inverness-shire.'

'Why, that's where we are! Near----'

'Why shouldn't I drop down upon you some day?'

'Oh, _will_ you? That would be----' She seemed to save herself from some
gulf of betrayal. 'There are walks about my grandfather's more beautiful
than anything you ever saw--or perhaps I ought to say more beautiful
than anything _I_ ever saw.'

'Nicer walks than at Ulland?'

'Oh, no comparison! One is a bridle-path all along a wonderf