child?" asked the old lady, when her daughter
had transgressed reasonable limits.

"Well, you know, mother, if you _will_ compare a man's laugh to a
hundred hyenas--"

"I didn't compare the man's voice," interrupted Mrs Moss; "I said that
the cliffs--"

"That's worse and worse! Now, mother, don't get into one of your
hypercritical moods, and insist on reasons for everything; but tell me
about this wicked--this dreadful young man. What was he like?"

"Like an ordinary sportsman, dear, with one of those hateful guns in his
hand, and a botanical box on his back. I could not see his face very
well, for he wore one of those ugly pot-caps, with a peak before and
behind; though what the behind one is for I cannot imagine, as men have
no eyes in the back of their heads to keep the sun out of. No doubt
some men would make us believe they have! but it was pulled down on the
bridge of his nose. What I did see of his face seemed to be handsome
enough, and his figure was tall and well made, unquestionably, but his
behaviour--nothing can excuse that! If he had only said he was sorry,
one might have forgiven him."

"Did he _not_ say he was sorry?" asked Milly in some surprise.

"Oh, well, I suppose he did; and begged pardon after a fashion. But
what truth could there be in his protestations when he went away and
laughed like a hyena."

"You said a hundred hyenas, mother."

"No, Milly, I said the cliffs laughed; but don't interrupt me, you
naughty child! Well, I was going to tell you that my heart softened a
little towards the young man, for, as you know, I am not naturally
unforgiving."

"I know it well, dear mother!"

"So, before we parted, I told him that if he had any explanations or
apologies to make, I should be glad to see him at Kinlossie House. Then
I made up my mind to forgive him, and introduce him to you as the man
that ran me down in London! This was the little surprise I had in store
for you, but the ungrateful creature has never come."

"No, and he never will come!" said Milly, with a hearty laugh.

"How do you know that, puss?" asked Mrs Moss, in surprise.

Fortunately the dinner-bell rang at that moment, justifying Milly in
jumping up. Giving her mother a rather violent hug, she rushed from the
room.

"Strange girl!" muttered Mrs Moss as she turned, and occupied herself
with some mysterious--we might almost say captious--operations before
the looking-glass. "The mountain air seems to have