Conceive my dismay! Discretion and Antoinette Westerleigh were as far apart as the poles. What more likely than that the dashing little minx would undertake to rally her lover about Aileen, and that the adroit baronet would worm out of her the information he desired? The letter crystallized my desire to set out at once for Montagu Grange, and from there to take the road with Miss Macleod hotspur for Scotland. It appeared to me that the sooner we were out of England the better it would be for both of us. I made the journey to the Grange by easy stages, following so far as I could little used roads and lanes on account of a modest desire to avoid publicity. 'Twas early morning when I reached the Grange. I remember the birds were twittering a chorus as I rode under the great oaks to the house. Early as it was, Cloe and Aileen were already walking in the garden with their arms entwined about each other's waists in girl fashion. They made a picture taking enough to have satisfied a jaded connoisseur of beauty: the fair tall Highland lass, jimp as a willow wand, with the long-lashed blue eyes that looked out so shyly and yet so frankly on those she liked, and the merry brown-eyed English girl so ready of saucy tongue, so worldly wise and yet so innocent of heart. Cloe came running to meet me in a flutter of excitement and Mistress Aileen followed more demurely down the path, though there was a Highland welcome in her frank face not to be denied. I slid from the horse and kissed Cloe. Miss Macleod gave me her hand. "We are hoping you are quite well from your wounds," she said. "Quite," I answered. "Better much for hearing your kind voices and seeing your bright faces." I dare say I looked over-long into one of the bright faces, and for a punishment was snatched into confusion by my malapert sister. "I didn't know you had heard my kind voice yet," mimicked Miss Madcap. "And are you thinking of holding Aileen's hand all day?" My hand plumped to my side like a shot. Both of us flamed, I stammering apologies the while Cloe no doubt enjoyed hugely my embarrassment. 'Tis a sister's prerogative to teach her older brothers humility, and Cloe for one did not let it fall into neglect. "To be sure I do not know the Highland custom in the matter," she was continuing complacently when Aileen hoist her with her own petard. "I wass thinking that perhaps Captain Macdonald had taught you in the armory," she said quietly; and Cloe, to be in the fashion, ran up the red flag too.