white heather grows, and the rabbits tumble about as
tame as kittens. It's miles away from the sea, but the gulls come
sunning themselves and walking about like pigeons. I used to hide up
there when I was little and naughty. Nobody ever found the place out
except an old gaberlunzie, and I gave him tuppence not to tell.'

'Yes, show me that place.' His face was wonderfully attractive so!

'And we'll take The Earthly--William Morris--along, won't we?'

'I thought you'd given up reading poetry.'

'Yes--to myself. I used to think I knew about poetry, yes, better than
anybody but the poets. There are people as arrogant as that.'

'Why, it's worse than Mrs. McTaggart!'

The girl was grave, even tremulous. 'But, no! I never had a notion of
what poetry really was till down at Ulland you took my book away from
me, and read aloud----'

* * * * *

Mr. Freddy let himself and Lord Borrodaile in at the front door so
closely on the heels of Mrs. Freddy that the servant who had closed the
door behind her had not yet vanished into the lower regions. At a word
from that functionary, Mr. Freddy left his brother depositing hat and
stick with the usual deliberation, and himself ran upstairs two steps at
a time. He caught up with his wife just outside the drawing-room door,
as she paused to take off her veil in front of that mirror which Mrs.
Freddy said should be placed between the front door and the drawing-room
in every house in the land for the reassurance of the timid feminine
creature. She was known to add privately that it was not ignored by
men--and that those who came often, contracted a habit of hurrying
upstairs close at the servant's heels, in order to have two seconds to
spare for furtive consultation, while he went on to open the
drawing-room door. She had observed this pantomime more than once,
leaning over the banisters, herself on the way downstairs.

'They tell me Stonor's been here half an hour,' said Mr. Freddy,
breathlessly. 'You're dreadfully late!'

'No, darling----'

He held out his watch to confound her. 'You tell me you aren't late?'

'Sh--no. I do so sympathize with a girl who has no mother,' with which
enigmatic rejoinder she pushed open the door, and went briskly through
the double drawing-room to where Mr. Geoffrey Stonor and Jean Dunbarton
were sitting by a window that overlooked the square.

Stonor waved away Mrs. Freddy's shower of excuses, saying--

'You've com