ernie bent a keen look upon him out of gray eyes. "An enemy might
describe him so, perhaps. I can see that such a one might do so."

"Ah, you're his friend!"

"Yes."

"Well," said Mr. Wotherspoon, straightening himself from the
contemplation of the roses, "there's no greater thing than to have a
steadfast friend!"

It seemed that an expedition had been planned, for a servant now
appeared to say that coach and horses were at the door. Mr. Touris
explained:

"I've engaged to show Mr. and Mrs. Goodworth our considerable town.
Mr. Wotherspoon, too, has a moment's business there. Alison will not
come, but Munro Touris rides along. Will you come, too, Glenfernie?
We'll have a bit of dinner at the 'Glorious Occasion.'"

"No, thank you. I have to get home presently. But I'll stay a little
and talk to Mrs. Alison, if I may."

"Ah, you may!" said Mrs. Alison.

From the porch they watched the coach and four away, with Munro Touris
following on a strong and ugly bay mare. The elm boughs of the avenue
hid the whole. The cloud continents and islands were dissolving into
the air ocean, the sun lay in strong beams, the water drops were
drying from leaf and blade. Mrs. Alison and Alexander moved through
the great hall and down a corridor to a little parlor that was hers
alone. They entered it. It gave, through an open door and two windows
set wide, upon a small, choice garden and one wide-spreading, noble,
ancient tree. Glenfernie entered as one who knew the place, but upon
whom, at every coming, it struck with freshness and liking. The room
itself was most simple.

"I like," said Alexander, "our spare, clean, precise Scotch parlors.
But this is to me like a fine, small prioress's room in a convent of
learned saints!"

His old friend laughed. "Very little learned, very little saintly, not
at all prior! Let us sit in the doorway, smell the lavender, and hear
the linnets in the tree."

She took the chair he pushed forward. He sat upon the door-step at her
feet.

"Concerning Ian," she said. "What do you make out of it all?"

"I make out that I hope he'll not involve himself in some French and
Tory mad attempt!"

"What do his letters say?"

"They speak by indirection. Moreover, they're at present few and
short.... We shall see when he comes!"

"Do you think that he will tell you all?"

Alexander's gray eyes glanced at her as earlier they had glanced at
Mr. Wotherspoon. "I do not think that we keep much from each othe