m, are hanging over
the topmost banisters, dropping you showers of kisses. Yes, the river
you mentioned does produce a veritable 'garden of the Lord.' God send
you the same, dear. And now, sit well back, and lower your veil. Ah, I
remember, you don't wear them. Wise girl! If all women followed your
example it would impoverish the opticians. Why? Oh, constant focussing
on spots, for one thing. But lean back, for you must not be seen if you
are supposed to be still in Cairo, waiting to go up the Nile. And, look
here"--the doctor put his head in at the carriage window--"very plain
luggage, mind. The sort of thing nurses speak of as 'my box'; with a
very obvious R. G. on it!"

"Thank you, Boy," whispered Jane. "You think of everything."

"I think of YOU," said the doctor. And in all the hard days to come,
Jane often found comfort in remembering those last quiet words.

CHAPTER XVII

ENTER--NURSE ROSEMARY

Nurse Rosemary Gray had arrived at Gleneesh.

When she and her "box" were deposited on the platform of the little
wayside railway station, she felt she had indeed dropped from the
clouds; leaving her own world, and her own identity, on some
far-distant planet.

A motor waited outside the station, and she had a momentary fear lest
she should receive deferential recognition from the chauffeur. But he
was as solid and stolid as any other portion of the car, and paid no
more attention to her than he did to her baggage. The one was a nurse;
the other, a box, both common nouns, and merely articles to be conveyed
to Gleneesh according to orders. So he looked straight before him,
presenting a sphinx-like profile beneath the peak of his leather cap,
while a slow and solemn porter helped Jane and her luggage into the
motor. When she had rewarded the porter with threepence,
conscientiously endeavouring to live down to her box, the chauffeur
moved foot and hand with the silent precision of a machine, they swung
round into the open, and took the road for the hills.

Up into the fragrant heather and grey rocks; miles of moor and sky and
solitude. More than ever Jane felt as if she had dropped into another
world, and so small an incident as the omission of the usual respectful
salute of a servant, gave her a delightful sense of success and
security in her new role.

She had often heard of Garth's old castle up in the North, an
inheritance from his mother's family, but was hardly prepared for so
much picturesque beauty