Julia drew her seat nearer to the fire, and spread her hands to the cheerful blaze: like the cats, she loved warmth.

'It seems long since we have met, Miss Brown. One never sees you in this neighbourhood now, though you are still so near. Pray, how do you like your new way of life? I heard a gentleman say, not long ago, that as it was on spiritual grounds you left Kilrundle, you would no doubt feel you were advancing, and becoming more like the spirits, in so far at least as being able to live in several houses at once goes. From what we hear, you live all over the village at Glen Effick,--a sort of ubiquity, in short. But perhaps 'living' is too gross a name for that sort of thing; 'pervade' has a more spiritual sound, only it does not suggest much in the way either of bed or dinner. Do you like it?'

Mary raised her eyes enquiringly to the other's face. Did she mean to be impertinent? And why?

'A woman lives with her natural protector, Miss Finlayson. Wherever my brother fixes his home, if he chooses to share it with me, of course I shall like it.'

Julia's eyelids winced. She had a rheumatic old aunt who lived in a sea-side village all the winter with a solitary maid, and who was wont to disappear in spring, when some family from an inland town would rent her cottage for the summer. With this ancient relative, Julia had been thankful to take up her abode when the demise of her parents left her homeless, and her own small income, added to that of the old lady, had made a better provision for both. Circumstances had changed since then. When Lady Caroline found she wanted a companion, Julia recognised the greater congeniality of a wealthy household. The old aunt might talk of ingratitude, but she was quietly dropped, and Lady Caroline enthroned in her 'heart' as nearest of kin. Julia's conscience, however, was not a troublesome organ, and Mary could have meant no retaliating shot, since she had never heard of the aunt; so she continued as though Mary had not spoken.

'And now you have extended your pervading presence to Craig Findochart! What a strange choice! You do not expect to do good to souls up there, do you?'

'Oh, Miss Finlayson, pray don't! I never was clever at understanding drolleries, and it pains me to hear sacred things lightly mentioned. But if you want to know how I came there, it is simple enough. Mr. Sangster has her son and another gentleman on a visit, and I have been staying there for a few days. We made a party to Findochart to show the stranger the view, the mist came down when we were on the top of the hill, we lost our way and were all scattered, General Drysdale found me and kindly insisted on bringing me here. It seems all natural enough when you come to know it, does it not?'

'Quite natural, dear, and very nice. Pray, forgive my poor, poor little joke. You remember my foolish fondness for being lively, or trying, at least; for it is not easily done in the lonely country life we lead here. Oh, why will Lady Caroline not improve her health by an autumn at Baden Baden? Pray now, tell me the news, since you are staying at a house full of visitors. Young Sangster is home, is he? Home for the holidays, one might say, for he is duller than many a schoolboy. But his friend. Tell me about him--what is he like! Rich, I suppose, or mamma would not endanger Miss Sophia's peace of mind by his presence. He will be eligible from an Auchlippie point of view, and if that is not a very ornamental one, at least it is pretty solid. Old MacSiccar, the writer, dined with the General last week, and he spoke of old Sangster as one of the warmest men hereabouts. So, my dear, you might do worse than go in for gaukie Peter. I half meditate a descent myself, only it would be a long run over a very heavy country, as a Leicestershire friend of mine phrases it. But tell me about the friend. Is he nice? The two shot with Captain John yesterday over Whauprigg moor, and they were expected for dinner, but there was some mistake about dressing bags, so we ladies never saw them. Cousin Kenneth says they are horrid cads both, but then his regiment are a parcel of supercilious puppies, so we need not mind that. What is the friend's name?'

'Wallowby.'

'Don't like the sound of it. Is he moderately nice? and is he rich?'