"I wonder what she wants with me," said Percival Heron, meditatively. He
was sitting at his solitary breakfast-table, having pushed from him an
empty coffee-cup and several newspapers: a letter from Elizabeth was in
his hands. It consisted of a few lines only, and the words that had
roused his wonderment were these:--

"I am very anxious to see you. Could you come down to Strathleckie at
once? If not, pray come as soon as possible."

"I suppose she is too true a woman to say exactly what she wants," said
Percival, a gay smile curling his lips beneath his black moustache.
"Perhaps she won't be very angry with me this time if I press her a
little on the subject of our marriage. We parted on not very good terms
last time, rather _en delicatesse_, if I'm not mistaken, after
quarrelling over our old subject of dispute, the tutor. Well, my lady's
behests are to be obeyed. I'll wire an acceptance of the invitation and
start to-night."

He made the long journey very comfortably, grumbling now and then in a
good-tempered way at Elizabeth for sending for him in so abrupt a
fashion; but on the whole he felt pleased that she had done so. It
showed that she had confidence in him. And he was very anxious for the
engagement to be made public: its announcement would be a sort of
justification to him in allowing her to do as much as she had done for
his family. Percival had, in truth, always protested against her
generosity, but failed in persuading his father not to accept it. Mr.
Heron was too simple-minded to see why he should not take Elizabeth's
gifts, and Mrs. Heron did not see the force of Percival's arguments at
all.

"Elizabeth is not here, then," he said to Kitty, who met him at the
station.

"No," answered Kitty in rather a mysterious voice. "She wouldn't come."

"Why wouldn't she come?" said Percival, sharply. He followed his sister
into the waggonette as he spoke: he did not care about driving, and
gladly resigned the reins to the coachman.

"I can't tell you. I don't think she is well."

"Not well? What's the matter?"

"I don't know. She always has a headache. Did she want you to come,
Percival?"

"She wrote to ask me."

"I'm glad of that."

"Kitty, will you have the goodness to say what you mean, instead of
hinting?"

Kitty looked frightened.

"I don't mean anything," she said, hurriedly, while a warm wave of
colour spread itself over her cheeks and brow.

"Don't mean anything? That's nonsense. You