Lavender’s communications with the King of Borva were of a different nature. Wonderful volumes on building, agriculture, and what not, tobacco hailing from certain royal sources in the neighborhood of the Pyramids, and now and again a new sort of rifle or some fresh invention in fishing-tackle--these were the sort of things that found their way to Lewis. And then in reply came haunches of venison, and kegs of rare whisky and skins of wild animals, which, all very admirable in their way, were a trifle cumbersome in a couple of moderate rooms in King street, St. James’. But here Lavender hit upon a happy device. He had long ago talked to his aunt about the mysterious potentate in the far North, who was the ruler of man, beast and fish, and who had an only daughter. When these presents arrived, Mrs. Lavender was informed that they were meant for her, and was given to understand that they were the propitiatory gifts of a half-savage monarch who wished to seek her friendship. In vain did Ingram warn Lavender of the possible danger of this foolish joke. The young man laughed, and would come down to Sloane street with another story of his success as an envoy of the distant King. And so the months went slowly by, and Lavender raved about Sheila, and dreamed about Sheila, and was always going to begin some splendid achievement for Sheila’s sake, but never just managed to begin. After all, the future did not look very terrible, and the present was satisfactory enough. Mrs. Lavender had no objection whatever to listening to his praises of Sheila, and had even gone the length of approving of the girl’s photograph when it was shown her. But at the end of six months Lavender suddenly went down to Sloane street, found Ingram in his lodgings, and said, “Ingram, I start for Lewis to-morrow.” “The more fool you!” was the complacent reply. “I can’t bear this any longer; I must go and see her.” “You’ll have to bear worse if you go. You don’t know what getting to Lewis is in the Winter. You’ll be killed with cold before you see the Minch.” “I can stand a good bit of cold when there’s a reason for it,” said the young man; “and I have written to Sheila to say I should start to-morrow.” “In that case I had better make use of you. I suppose you won’t mind taking up to Sheila a sealskin jacket that I have bought for her?” “That you have bought for her!” said the other. How could he have spared fifteen pounds out of his narrow income for such a present? And yet he laughed at the idea of his ever having been in love with Sheila.