Her brother smiled and shook his head, and after a minute he said:
"A garden enclosed is my love."
CHAPTER XVI
"What's to be said to him, lady? He is fortified against any
denial."—Twelfth Night.
The day before Pamela and her brother left Priorsford for their visit to
Champertoun was a typical December day, short and dark and dirty.
There was a party at Hopetoun in honour of David's home-coming, and
Pamela and her brother were invited, along with the entire family from
The Rigs.
They all set off together in the early darkening, and presently Pamela and the three boys got ahead, and Jean found herself alone with Lord Bidborough.
Weather had little or no effect on Jean's spirits, and to-day, happy in having David at home, she cared nothing for the depressing mist that shrouded the hills, or the dank drip from the trees on the carpet of sodden leaves, or the sullen swirl of Tweed coming down big with spate, foaming against the supports of the bridge.
"As dull as a great thaw," she quoted to her companion cheerfully. "It does seem a pity the snow should have gone away before Christmas. Do you know, all the years of my life I've never seen snow on Christmas. I do wish Mhor wouldn't go on praying for it. It's so stumbling for him when Christmas comes mild and muggy. If we could only have it once as you see it in pictures and read about it in books—"
She broke off to bow to Miss Watson and her sister, Miss Teenie, who passed Jean and her companion with skirts held well out of the mud, and eyes, after the briefest glance, demurely cast down.