But Madge would not hear of this kindly proposal. ‘I like the snow,’ she answered, ‘and a brisk walk will do me good.’ At another time, she would have smiled at the timidity of her friends on account of the weather. ‘You will catch your death of cold, my dear,’ said Mrs Joy, ‘and then you will not be able to come to Edwin’s lecture next week. I assure you it is the most interesting one he has yet delivered.’ Even the danger of missing the doctor’s lecture was not enough to deter her from walking home. As she was passing the _King’s Head_, the Ringsford carriage drew up at the door, and out of it jumped Coutts Hadleigh, in the full uniform of a captain of Volunteers. He was taken by surprise, and uttered a natural exclamation: ‘Why, what brings you so far from home on such an evening as this? There is going to be a regular out and outer of a snowstorm, and I would not be here myself, only this is the night of the feed I give every year to my men, and all the arrangements were made.’ She was more pleased to meet him than she was generally, for he might be able to give her some news of Philip. So, without troubling to answer his inquiries, she put her own. ‘Don’t know anything about him,’ he answered—callously, as she thought, ‘except that he has got into a precious scrape, and will disgrace our family, unless that uncle of his helps him out of it.’ ‘Disgrace?—How is it disgrace to fail in a noble enterprise?’ ‘Ah, it’s something worse than failing in a noble enterprise,’ answered Coutts, returning to his habitual tone of cynical indifference. ‘But don’t let us talk about it, if you please. I would rather not, even to you, until all the ins and outs are known.’ ‘When will you know about your brother’s affairs?’ ‘I cannot say; but he will tell you all about them; and if he doesn’t, I will. Meanwhile, let me do him a service—get into the carriage, and Toomey will drive you home. I am sure that is what Phil and the guv’nor, too, would say, if they found you trudging along the road in such weather. Do get in, or they will both have me down in their black books. The carriage is not to come back for me, so you won’t give the horses any extra work.’ She consented; and Toomey, who was glad enough to turn homeward for his own comfort as well as that of the horses, wheeled round, and drove off at a good pace. A little way out of the village they nearly ran over a man, who, walking in the same direction, had not heard the carriage making up on him, either on account of the preoccupation of his thoughts or the thick carpeting of snow on the road. ‘All right,’ growled the man, having saved himself, and Toomey drove on.