"They may have met at our house; but certainly not more than once. You see, living in a country house, we have to have our friends down in a staccato fashion, and always by arrangement of a few at a time. There is no general dropping in to afternoon tea."
"He never met her in London?" he repeated.
"I should think not."
"His uncle, then: did she never see him before?"
"Certainly not."
"Then what does he mean by treating her as a sort of familiar friend who was likely to turn up any time at Denny-mains?"
His companion coloured somewhat; for she had no right to betray confidences.
"The Laird is very fond of Mary," she said, evasively. "It is quite beautiful to see those two together."
He sate for a little time in silence; and then begged to be excused—he would go on deck to smoke. But when, some little time thereafter, we returned from our brief fishing, the dark figure walking up and down the deck was not smoking at all. He paused as the gig was hauled fast to the gangway.
"What luck?"