On the day after the hunt Lord Cadbury's groom, Gaskins, came riding to Chilcote with a magnificent bouquet from the conservatories for Alison, and his master's anxious inquiries as to how she had enjoyed the sport of the previous day, and a hope that she had not suffered from fatigue; and Alison, as she buried her pretty pink nostrils among the cool and fragrant roses, smiled covertly and mischievously as she heard from Gaskins how his master had 'got such a precious spill by funking at a bull-finch, when the hounds were thrown off, that he would be confined to the house for some days.' Thus for a time she would be free from the annoyance of his presence. Archie, the white-haired man-of-all-work, gave Mr. Gaskins a tankard of beer after he had leaped into his saddle, where he took what Archie called a 'standing drink, like the coo o' Forfar.' Lord Cadbury's powdered servants, in elaborate liveries, were always a source of supreme contempt (mingled, perhaps, with envy) to Sir Ranald's staunch henchman, and now he felt inclined to sneer if he could at the well-appointed groom, in his dark grey surtout, waistbelt, cockade, and top-boots. 'Braw leathers, thae o' yours,' said he, regarding the latter with some interest. 'Yaas,' drawled Gaskins. 'I flatter myself that few gents appear with better boot tops than Cadbury and myself. I clean them with a preparation--quite a conserve, Mr. Hackendore, peculiarly my own.' 'And what may that be?' asked Archie. 'Champagne and apricot jam,' replied Gaskins, twirling his moustache and eyeing the old man with intense superciliousness. 'Set ye up, indeed, wi' your buits and belts!' snapped Archie. 'Ye think yoursel' made for the siller; but a bawbee cat may look at a king.' 'I don't understand the sense of your remark,' drawled Gaskins, shortening his reins. 'Like enough--like enough; mony complain o' want o' siller, but few complain o' want o' sense; and a gowk at Yule will ne'er be bricht at Beltane.' 'What the devil is he talking about?' thought the bewildered groom, as he put spurs to his horse and trotted away. 'Wi' a' his bravery,' said Archie, with a grimace, 'he's a loon that will loup the dyke where it's laighest.' Alison divided the bouquet into portions for various vases to ornament her drawing-room, and on the following day, after a more than usually careful toilette, while her father was occupied in worry and perplexity over letters and accounts, seated herself in the deep bay of a window that overlooked the avenue, her heart beating quicker as the noon wore on.