The beauty of the late spring was filling every copse and valley through which they passed. Everywhere was the budding forth of those tender hues which bring a sense of quiet refreshment to the eye; on every sheltered bank the primroses were gazing at the passers-by like faint stars from their deep leafy beds. The mountain torrents here and there were quivering with excitement as they raced down the hill-sides bubbling over with the joy of having escaped from the imprisonment of the winter's frosts. When the train stopped they could hear the twittering and singing of birds; all these things of everyday occurrence and of no importance in everyday life, perhaps; but to these three, who had felt the great want of the fresh beauty of country life, and had passed some months without any of these cheering influences, they came as a breath of Paradise. Grace began to respect Mrs. Dorriman when they changed stations, and she saw the quiet practical way in which everything was arranged. Then they sped on their way along the banks of the Clyde, and an exclamation burst from Margaret's lips. Mrs. Dorriman's eyes were moist. The sea came in sight where the river widened; the evening light was falling over it all touching with a golden gleam the ripple of the water. Some yachts were lying at anchor. Away to the South rose faint blue hills as on the West. Even Grace, too much self-absorbed as a rule to be passionately alive to natural beauty, felt it all, as she had never in all her life felt any scenery before. The movement and life all framed in this exquisite scene thrilled her. She forgot herself, her hopes, her ambitions, and all else, and, unconsciously holding Margaret's hand, she found herself giving back an answering and a sympathetic clasp.