they've only known him for a day or two. No, I don't
think I'm jealous. I'm--I'm hurt!" and to Lewis Elliot's great
discomfort Jean took out her handkerchief and openly wiped her eyes, and
then, putting her head on the table, cried.

He sat in much embarrassment, making what he meant to be comforting
ejaculations, until Jean stopped crying and laughed.

"It's wretched of me to make you so uncomfortable. I don't know what's
happened to me. I've suddenly got so silly. And I don't think I like
charming people. Charm is a merciless sort of gift ... and I know he
will take Pamela away, and she made things so interesting. Every day
since he came I seem to have got lonelier and lonelier, and the sight of
your familiar face and the sound of your kind voice finished me.... I'm
quite sensible now, so don't go away. Tea will be in in a minute, and
the boys. Isn't it fine that Davie will be home to-morrow? D'you think
he'll be changed?"

Lewis Elliot stayed to tea, and Jock and Mhor fell on him with
acclamation, and told him wonderful tales of their new friend, and never
noticed the marks of tears on Jean's face.

"Jean, what is Lord Bidborough's Christian name?" Jock asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Richard Plantagenet, I should think."

"Really, Jean?"

"Why not? But you'd better ask him. Are you going, Cousin Lewis? When
will you come and see Davie?"

"Let me see. I'm lunching at Hillview on Friday May I come in after
luncheon? Thanks. You must all come up to Laverlaw one day next week.
The puppies are growing up, Mhor, and you're missing all their
puppyhood; that's a pity."

Later in the evening, just before Mhor's bedtime Lord Bidborough came to
The Rigs. Pamela was resting, he explained, or writing letters, or
doing something else, and he had come in to pass the time of day with
them.

"The time of night, you mean," said Mhor ruefully "In ten minutes I'll
have to go to bed."

"Had you a nice time this afternoon?" Jean asked.

"Oh, ripping! Coming up by Tweed in the darkening was heavenly. I wish
you had been with us, Miss Jean. Why wouldn't you come?"

"I had things to do," said Jean primly.

"Couldn't the things have waited? Good days in December are precious,
Miss Jean--and Pam and I are going away next week. Promise you will go
with us next time--on Saturday, to the Eildon Hills."

"What's your Christian name, please?" Jock broke in suddenly,
remembering the discussion. "Jean says it's Richard Plantagenet--_i