In the evening Will had to walk over to Balnacluith Place, in order to complete the arrangements with the Count as to their starting on the Monday evening. Dove went with him; and when they got there the red sunset was flaring over the gloomy old house, and lighting up its windows with streaks of fire. Here and there, too, the tall bare trunks of one or two Scotch firs turned scarlet against the faint grey-green of the east; and the smooth river had broad splashes of crimson upon it, as it lay down there among the cool meadows, apparently motionless. Will’s reticence was unfortunate. They had scarcely begun to talk about their journey when Count Schönstein mentioned something about Miss Brunel’s probable arrangements. "Is Miss Brunel going with you?" said Dove, her soft eyes lighting up with a faint surprise. "Yes. Didn’t you know?" replied Count Schönstein. "She is going to take a short holiday, and we hope to be honoured by her presence at Schönstein." Dove looked at Will; he was examining a cartridge-pouch the Count had brought in, and did not observe her inquiring glance. On their way home, he observed that she was very quiet. At first he thought she was subdued by the exceeding beauty of the twilight, which had here and there a yellow star lying lambent in the pale grey; or that she was listening to the strong, luscious music of the nightingales, which abound in the valley of St. Mary-Kirby. Presently, however, he saw that she was wilfully silent, and then he asked her what had displeased her. Her sense of wrong was of that tremulous and tender character which never reached the length of indignation; and just now, when she wanted to be very angry with him, she merely said, not in a very firm voice: "I did not think you would deceive me, Will." "Well, now," he said, "you have been wasting all this beautiful time and annoying yourself by nursing your grievance silently. Why didn’t you speak out at once, Dove, and say how I have deceived you?" "You said you were going abroad on business." "So I am." "Count Schönstein talks as if it were merely a pleasure excursion." "So it is, to him." "Miss Brunel is going with you." "Well?" "You know quite well what I mean," she said, petulantly. "Why didn’t you tell me she was going with you? Why did you conceal her going from me, as if there was no confidence between us?——" "My darling, I didn’t conceal her going from you. I didn’t tell you, because her going was no business of mine—because—because——" "Because you thought I would be jealous," she said, with a little wilful colour in her face. "My darling," said Will, gravely, "you don’t consider what you’re saying. You wrong Annie Brunel quite as much as you wrong me and yourself. I don’t know what you’ve seen in her to warrant your supposing for an instant that——"