t we needn't take it to-night, it's too far to
the village."

"Nonsense! the walk is just what you need. You are tired with sitting
still, and a sharp trot will warm you up, and help you to sleep. Come
along. I'll give you a start to the bend of the road, and race you to
the nearest tree."

Margot was not in the least in the mood for running races, but as a
means of getting warm it was not to be despised, so she started
promptly, running with swift, easy steps, and gradually quickening pace,
as Ron gained upon her from the rear. She had not been educated at a
girls' public school and been captain of the sports committee for
nothing, and, given a short handicap, could often come off best. As the
following footsteps grew nearer and nearer she spurted bravely forward,
the ends of her cape streaming wildly in the breeze, her uncovered hair
ruffled into curling ends. The tree was but a few yards distant; she
was laughing and panting, dodging from right and left, to prevent Ron
from passing by from behind, when round a bend in the road a figure
appeared directly in her path, the figure of Brither Elgood himself, his
round eyes bulging with surprise and curiosity. He came to an abrupt
standstill in the middle of the road, and the racers followed his
example, looking, if the truth were told, a trifle abashed to be
discovered in so childish an amusement.

"Halloa! What is the matter? Is the Inn on fire?"

Margot laughed merrily. The voice, the tone, the manner, were those of
a friend of a lifetime, rather than an acquaintance of an hour. It was
impossible to answer formally; moreover, the humour of the idea made its
appeal.

"No, indeed! On ice, more likely! We were so cold that a race seemed
the only chance of getting warm! I hope we didn't startle you too
much!"

"I like being startled," returned Mr Elgood complacently. He stood
still, swinging his cane, looking from brother to sister with bright,
approving eyes. "I was afraid you were feeling tired after your
journey, but evidently you have not yet reached the age of fatigue.
That's right! Thats quite right! I am glad that you have joined us at
the Nag's Head. We are a respectable and harmonious party, but we need
life--young life! We may weary _you_, but you will refresh and enliven
us. In the name of our little company, I welcome you to the Glen?"

"Thank you, sir," said Ron simply, while Margot, as usual, hastened to
amplify his words.

"I h