's disgustingly fond of finding out the best in people," Pamela
objected.

"Priorsford is a most charming town," said Mr. Elliot, "but I never find
its inhabitants interesting."

"No," Jean said, "but you don't try, do you? You stay here in your
'wild glen sae green,' and only have your own friends to visit you--"

"Are you," Pamela asked Lewis, "like a woman I know who boasts that she
knows no one in her country place, but gets her friends and her fish
from London?"

"No, I'm not in the least exclusive, only rather _blate_, and, I
suppose, uninterested. Do you know, I was rather glad to hear you begin
to slang the unfortunate Miss Duff-Whalley. It was more like the Pamela
Reston I used to know. I didn't recognise her in the tolerant,
all-loving lady."

"Oh," cried Pamela, "you are cruel to the girl I once was. The years
mellow. Surely you welcome improvement, even while you remind me of my
sins and faults of youth."

"I don't think," Lewis Elliot said slowly, "that I ever allowed myself
to think that the Pamela Reston I knew needed improvement. That would
have savoured of sacrilege.... Are we finished? We might have coffee in
the other room."

Pamela looked at her host as she rose from the table, and said, "Years
have brought clearer eyes for faults."

"I wonder," said Lewis Elliot, as he put a large chocolate into Mhor's
ever-ready mouth.

Before going home they went for a walk up the glen. Jean and the boys,
very much at home, were in front, while Lewis named the surrounding
hills and explained the lie of the land to Pamela. They fell into talk
of younger days, and laughed over episodes they had not thought of for
twenty years.

"And, do you know, Biddy's coming home?" Pamela said. "I keep
remembering that with a most delightful surprise. I haven't seen him for
more than a year--my beloved Biddy!"

"He was a most charming boy," Lewis said. "I suppose he would be about
fifteen when last I saw him. How old is he now?"

"Thirty-five. But such a young thirty-five. He has always been doing the
most youth-preserving things, chasing over the world after adventures,
like a boy after butterflies, seeing new peoples, walking in untrodden
ways. If he had lived in more spacious days he would have sailed with
Francis Drake and helped to singe the King of Spain's beard. Oh, I do
think you will still like Biddy. The charm he had at fifteen he hasn't
lost one little bit. He has still the same rather shy manner and sl