t must be carefully guarded.

In the afternoon he entered a fashionable tea-room and sat for a time
in a corner. The room was divided into quiet nooks by Moorish arches,
from which lamps of an antique pattern hung by chains and threw down a
soft red glow. Heavy imitation Eastern curtains deadened the hum of
voices and rattle of cups. The air was warm and scented, the light
dim, and Foster, who had often camped in the snow, felt amused by the
affectation of sensual luxury as he ate iced cakes and languidly
watched the people. He could only see two or three men, one of whom he
had noticed at the hotel and afterwards passed in the street. This was
probably a coincidence, but it might have a meaning, and he moved back
behind the arch that cut off his corner. When he next looked about,
the fellow had gone. There were, however, a number of pretty,
fashionably-dressed girls, and he remarked the warm color in their
faces and the clearness of their voices. The Scottish capital seemed
to be inhabited by handsome women.

He was, however, somewhat surprised when one came towards him and he
recognized the girl he had met at Hawick station. He had hardly
expected her to claim his acquaintance, as she obviously meant to do.

"You seem to be fond of Edinburgh," she remarked, sitting down at his
table.

"It's an interesting city. I'm a stranger and ignorant of your
etiquette; but would I be permitted to send for some cakes and tea?"

"I think not," she answered, smiling. "For one thing, I must go in a
minute."

Foster waited. The girl had good manners, and he thought it unlikely
that she was willing to begin a flirtation with a man she did not know;
besides she had stopped him sending for the tea. She was pretty, and
had a certain air of refinement, but it was a dainty prettiness that
somehow harmonized with the exotic luxury of the room. This was a
different thing from Alice Featherstone's rather stately beauty, which
found an appropriate background in the dignified austerity of the Garth.

"Are you enjoying your stay here?" she resumed. "I begin to think I've
had enough. The climate's not very cheerful, and the people seem
suspicious about strangers."

"The Scots are proverbially cautious," she answered carelessly, but
Foster thought he saw a gleam of interest in her eyes. "I suppose
somebody has been bothering you with questions?"

"Yes; as I'm of a retiring character, it annoys me. Besides, I really
thin