sit to
Champertoun was a typical December day, short and dark and dirty.

There was a party at Hopetoun in honour of David's home-coming, and
Pamela and her brother were invited, along with the entire family from
The Rigs.

They all set off together in the early darkening, and presently Pamela
and the three boys got ahead, and Jean found herself alone with Lord
Bidborough.

Weather had little or no effect on Jean's spirits, and to-day, happy in
having David at home, she cared nothing for the depressing mist that
shrouded the hills, or the dank drip from the trees on the carpet of
sodden leaves, or the sullen swirl of Tweed coming down big with spate,
foaming against the supports of the bridge.

"As dull as a great thaw," she quoted to her companion cheerfully. "It
does seem a pity the snow should have gone away before Christmas. Do
you know, all the years of my life I've never seen snow on Christmas. I
do wish Mhor wouldn't go on praying for it. It's so stumbling for him
when Christmas comes mild and muggy. If we could only have it once as
you see it in pictures and read about it in books--"

She broke off to bow to Miss Watson and her sister, Miss Teenie, who
passed Jean and her companion with skirts held well out of the mud, and
eyes, after the briefest glance, demurely cast down.

"They are going out to tea," Jean explained to Lord Bidborough. "Don't
they look nice and tea-partyish? Fur capes over their best dresses and
snow boots over their slippers. Those little black satin bags hold their
work, and I expect they have each a handkerchief edged with Honiton lace
and scented with White Rose. Probably they are going to Mrs.
Henderson's. She gives wonderful teas, and they will be taken to a
bedroom to take off their outer coverings, and they'll stay till about
eight o'clock and then go home to supper."

Lord Bidborough laughed. "I begin to see what Pam means when she talks
of the lovableness of a little town. It is cosy, as she says, to see
people go out to tea and know exactly where they are going, and what
they'll do when they get there."

"I should think," said Jean, "that it would rather appeal to you. Your
doings have always been on such a big scale--climbing the highest
mountains in the world, going to the very farthest places--that the tiny
and the trivial ought to be rather fascinating by contrast."

Lord Bidborough admitted that it was so, and silence fell between them.

"I wonder," said Jean polit