over now.

"I advised her vera strongly, sir, to come over with me to Stanesland,"
explained her escort. "The young lady has had a trying experience at
Keldale, and forby the fair impossibility of her stopping on under the
unfortunate circumstances, I was of the opinion that the sea air would
be a fine change and the architectural features remarkably interesting.
In fac', sir, I practically insisted that Miss Farmond had just got to
come."

"Good man!" said Ned. "Come in and tell me the unfortunate
circumstances." He bent over Cicely and in a lowered voice added:
"Personally I call 'em fortunate--so long as they haven't been too
beastly for you!"

"It's all right now!" she murmured, and as they went up the steps he
found, somehow or other, her hand for an instant in his again.

"If you'll stand by your pony for a moment, Bisset, I'll send out some
one to take her," he said with happy inspiration.

But Mr. Bisset was not so easily shaken off.

"She'll stand fine for a wee while," he assured his host. "You'll be the
better of hearing all about it from me."

They went into the smoking room and the escort began forthwith.

"The fact is, Mr. Cromarty, that yon man Simon Rattar is a fair
discredit. Miss Farmond has been telling me the haill story of her
running away, and your ain vera seasonable appearance and judicious
conduct, sir; which I am bound to say, Mr. Cromarty, is neither more nor
less than I'd have expectit of a gentleman of your intelligence. Weel,
to continue, Miss Farmond acted on your advice--which would have been my
own, sir, under the circumstances--and tellt her ladyship the plain
facts. Weel then----"

"And what did Lady Cromarty say to you?" demanded Ned.

"Hardly a word. She simply looked at me and said she would send for Mr.
Rattar."

Not a whit rebuffed, Mr. Bisset straightway resumed his narrative.

"A perfectly proper principle if the man was capable of telling the
truth. I'm no blaming her ladyship at that point, but where she departit
from the proper principles of evidence----"

"When did Rattar come?"

"This morning," said Cicely. "And--can you believe it?--he absolutely
denied that he had ever advised me to go away!"

"I can believe it," said Ned grimly. "And I suppose Lady Cromarty
believed him?"

"God, but you're right, sir!" cried Bisset. "Your deductions are
perfectly correct. Yon man had the impudence to give the haill thing a
flat denial! And then naturally Miss Farmon