ton bowed.

'Clever, or you would not have diverted me from my question with all that
science. You are not ill looking.'

'Spare my blushes,' said Merton; adding, 'Lady Bude, if you must be
answered, _you_ are clever enough to have found me out.'

'That needed less acuteness than you suppose,' said the lady.

'I am very sorry to hear it,' said Merton. 'You know how utterly
hopeless it is.'

'There I don't agree with you,' said Lady Bude.

Merton blushed. 'If you are right,' he said, 'then I have no business to
be here. What am I in the eyes of a man like Mr. Macrae? An adventurer,
that is what he would think me. I did think that I had done nothing,
said nothing, looked nothing, but having the chance--well, I could not
keep away from her. It is not honourable. I must go. . . . I love
her.'

Merton turned away and gazed at the sunset without seeing it.

Lady Bude put forth her hand and laid it on his. 'Has this gone on
long?' she asked.

'Rather an old story,' said Merton. 'I am a fool. That is the chief
reason why I was praying for rain. She fishes, very keen on it. I would
have been on the loch or the river with her. Blake does not fish, and
hates getting wet.'

'You might have more of her company, if you would not torment the poet
so. The green-eyed monster, jealousy, is on your back.'

Merton groaned. 'I bar the fellow, anyhow,' he said. 'But, in any case,
now that I know _you_ have found me out, I must be going. If only she
were as poor as I am!'

'You can't go to-morrow, to-morrow is Sunday,' said Lady Bude. 'Oh, I am
sorry for you. Can't we think of something? Cannot you find an opening?
Do something great! Get her upset on the loch, and save her from
drowning! Mr. Macrae dotes on her; he would be grateful.'

'Yes, I might take the pin out of the bottom of the boat,' said Merton.
'It is an idea! But she swims at least as well as I do. Besides--hardly
sportsmanlike.'

Lady Bude tried to comfort him; it is the mission of young matrons. He
must not be in such a hurry to go away. As to Mr. Blake, she could
entirely reassure him. It was a beautiful evening, the lady was fair and
friendly; Nature, fragrant of heather and of the sea, was hushed in a
golden repose. The two talked long, and the glow of sunset was fading;
the eyes of Lady Bude were a little moist, and Merton was feeling rather
consoled when they rose and walked back towards Skrae Castle. It had
been an ancient