ss his pleasure, but in an ecstasy of gratitude he seized
the engine-driver's grimy hand and kissed it, leaving that honest man,
who was not accustomed to such ongoings considerably confused.

Jock did not share Mhor's interest in "base mechanic happenings"; his
passion was for the world at large, his motto, "For to admire and for to
see." He had long made up his mind that he must follow some profession
that would take him to far places. Mrs. Hope suggested the Indian Army,
while Mr. Jowett loyally recommended the Indian Civil Service, though he
felt bound in duty to warn Jock that it wasn't what it was in his young
days, and was indeed hardly fit now for a white man.

Jock felt that Mrs. Hope and Mr. Jowett were wise and experienced, but
they were old. In Lord Bidborough he found one who had come hot foot
from the ends of the earth. He had seen with his own eyes, and he could
tell Jock tales that made the coveted far lands live before him; and
Jock fell down and worshipped.

Through the day, while the two boys were interned in school, Pamela took
her brother the long walks over the hills that had delighted her days in
Priorsford. Jean sometimes went with them, but more often she stayed at
home. It was her mission in life, she said, to stay at home and have
meals ready for people when they returned, and it was much better that
the brother and sister should have their walks alone, she told herself.
Excessive selfconfidence was not one of Jean's faults. She was much
afraid of boring people by her presence, and shrank from being the third
that constitutes "a crowd."

One afternoon Lewis Elliot called at The Rigs.

"Sitting alone, Jean? Well, it's nice to find you in. I thought you
would be out with your new friends."

"Lord Bidborough has motored Pamela down Tweed to see some people," Jean
explained. "They asked me to go with them, but I thought I might perhaps
be in the way. Lord Bidborough is frightfully pleased to be able to hire
a motor to drive. On Saturday he has promised to take the boys to
Dryburgh and to the Eildon Hills. Mhor is very keen to see for himself
where King Arthur is buried, and make a search for the horn!"

"I see. It's a pity it isn't a better time of year. December days are
short for excursions.... Isn't Biddy a delightful fellow?"

"Yes. Jock and Mhor worship him. One word from him is more to them than
all the wisdom I'm capable of. It isn't quite fair. After all, I've had
them so long, and