But Robert quietly insisted, as he perceived Mary’s increasing languor and pallor. So Lady Glencairn, with anger and disappointment gnawing at her heart, for she had hoped to show him the beauties of the garden by moonlight before he went, seeing that remonstrances were of no avail, bade them both an effusive good-night. “Don’t forget my garden party to-morrow,” she said with a patronizing smile, touching Mary’s cold hand lightly. “I shall expect you,” and she turned to greet her husband, who was approaching with Mr. Mackenzie. “Thank ye, your ladyship,” answered Mary simply, making a little courtesy. “Let me escort you to the carriage, Miss Campbell,” said Lord Glencairn, at once offering her his arm. “And allow me to follow,” added Mr. Mackenzie, slipping his arm through Robert’s, to whom he whispered, “How dare you, sir, how dare you be such a provokingly happy man in this miserable old world?” Robert laughed, and they all walked slowly down to the carriage, conversing gayly on their way. Suddenly Mary stopped with a little exclamation of dismay. “We’ve forgotten Mrs. Dunlop,” she said contritely. With a laugh Lord Glencairn dispatched a footman to find her, and the good lady soon appeared, flushed and panting from her hurried departure. With a last handshake all around Robert sprang in beside them and within a couple of minutes the carriage was out of sight. “Ye were the queen of the evening, Mary, just as I told ye ye’d be,” said Robert triumphantly. “Have ye enjoyed yoursel’?”