ow
way of speaking and sudden, affection-winning smile. The War has changed
him of course, emptied and saddened his life, and he isn't the
light-foot lad he was six years ago. When it was all over he went off
for one more year's roving. He has a great project which I don't suppose
will ever be accomplished--to climb Everest. He and three great friends
had arranged it all before the War, but everything of course was
stopped, and whatever happens he will never climb it with those three
friends. They had to scale greater heights than Everest. It is a sober
and responsible Biddy who is coming back, to settle down and look after
his places, and go into politics, perhaps--"

They walked together in comfortable silence.

Jean, in front, turned round and waved to them.

"I'm glad," said Lewis, "that you and Jean have made friends. Jean--" He
stopped.

Pamela stood very still for a second, and then said, "Yes?"

"Jean and her brothers are sort of cousins of mine. I've always been
fond of them, and my mother and I used to try to give them a good time
when we could, for Great-aunt Alison's was rather an iron rule. But a
man alone is such a helpless object, as Mrs. Hope often reminds me. It
isn't fair that Jean shouldn't have her chance. She never gets away, and
her youth is being spoiled by care. She is such a quaint little person
with her childlike face and motherly ways! I do wish something could be
done."

"Jean must certainly have her chance," said Pamela. She took a long
breath, as if she had been under water and had come to the surface.
"I've said nothing about it to anyone, but I am greatly hoping that some
arrangement can be made about sending the boys away to school and
letting me carry off Jean. I want her to forget that she ever had to
think about money worries. I want her to play with other boys and girls.
I want her to marry."

"Yes, that would be a jolly good scheme." Lewis Elliot's voice was
hearty in its agreement. "It really is exceedingly kind of you. You've
lifted a weight from my mind--though what business I have to push my
weights on to you.... Yes, Jean, perhaps we ought to be turning back.
The car is ordered for four o'clock. I wish you would stay to tea, but I
expect you are dying to get back to Priorsford. That little town has you
in its thrall."

"I wish," said Jock, "that The Rigs could be lifted up by some magician
and plumped down in Laverlaw Glen."

"Oh, Jock, wouldn't that be fine?" sighe