needing no powder. She sat and talked with her hand upon Ian.
While she talked she glanced from the one youth to the other. At last
she said:

"Alexander Jardine, I love Ian dearly. He needs and will need
love--great love. If you are going to be friends, remember that love
is bottomless.--And now go, the two of you, for the day is getting
on."

They passed again the macaw-and-pagoda screen and left the paneled
room. The August light struck slant and gold. The two quitted the
house and crossed the terrace into the avenue without again
encountering the master of the place.

"I will go with you to the top of the hill," said Ian. They climbed
the ridge that was like a purple cloud. "I'll come to Glenfernie
to-morrow or the next day."

"Yes, come! I'm fond of Jamie, but he's three years younger than I."

"You've got a sister?"

"Alice? She's only twelve. You come. I've been wanting somebody."

"So have I. I'm lonelier than you."

They came to the level top of the heath. The sun rode low; the shadow
of the hill stretched at their feet, out over path and harvest-field.

"Good-by, then!"

"Good-by!"

Ian stood still. Alexander, homeward bound, dropped over the crest.
The earth wave hid from him Black Hill, house and all. But, looking
back, he could still see Ian against the sky. Then Ian sank, too.
Alexander strode on toward Glenfernie. He went whistling, in expanded,
golden spirits. Ian--and Ian--and Ian! Going through a grove of oaks,
blackbirds flew overhead, among and above the branches. _The cranes of
Ibycus!_ The phrase flashed into mind. "I wonder why things like that
disturb me so!... I wonder if there's any bottom or top to living
anyhow!... I wonder--!" He looked at the birds and at the violet
evening light at play in the old wood. The phrase went out of his
mind. He left the remnant of the forest and was presently upon open
moor. He whistled again, loud and clear, and strode on happily.
Ian--and Ian--and Ian!

CHAPTER V

The House of Glenfernie and the House of Touris became friends. A
round of country festivities, capped by a great party at Black Hill,
wrought bonds of acquaintanceship for and with the Scots family
returned after long abode in England. Archibald Touris spent money
with a cautious freedom. He set a table and poured a wine better by
half than might be found elsewhere. He kept good horses and good dogs.
Laborers who worked for him praised him; he proved a not ungenerous
land