“Neither,” said Mrs. Black. “I am _so_ relieved, dear Neva, for I feared you would oppose my wishes, and I think if a woman ought ever to have her own way, it should be on her bridal tour. Craven has been telling me of the only piece of property he owns in the world, a worthless old Highland estate, valueless except for the shooting, with a dear old tumble-down house which no one will rent, and I fairly long to see it. It’s quite natural, I think, for a bride to desire to visit her husband’s property, and this came to Craven through his Scottish ancestors, the Macdonalds, and it has a host of curious legends and ghost stories, and such a charming, romantic name--Wilderness--that I am impatient to go there; and Craven says, if you do not object we will go on to Wilderness.” “Where is this place?” asked Neva. “In Rosshire. There are post-offices convenient, so that you can write back daily, if you like.” “But our coming will be unexpected,” objected Neva. “The servants at Wynde Heights are prepared for our coming, but no one will look for us at Wilderness.” “There is an old couple residing there,” said Craven Black, “and everything will be done to make our stay pleasant at my old ‘Castle Rackrent.’ I confess I should like to take my bride to the old place--it is years since I was there--and a week could be very pleasantly passed in mountain excursions, rows on the loch, and rides to the village. Can I say nothing to melt the stern resolution I see expressed in your face, Miss Neva?” “September seems late for the Highlands,” said Neva. “But this is exceptionally lovely weather,” urged Mrs. Black. “And we only want to stay there a week. I see you mean to destroy all our pleasure, Neva, and condemn us to follow your lead.” “You are mistaken,” said Neva gravely. “I have no desire to urge my own wishes in the matter. This project of visiting the Highlands takes me by surprise, but I have nothing to urge against it. I wish, however,” she added coloring, “that you would land me at some convenient point on the coast, and permit me to return to Hawkhurst--” “What! Alone and unattended?” cried Mrs. Black. “You wish to desert us, when I count upon your companionship and society? If you insist upon returning to Hawkhurst, Neva, of course you can go, and we will go with you. But this selfish tyranny--forgive me--is not like your generous self. I would not have believed you so ungracious. My pleasure is quite spoiled. Craven, dear, let us turn back to London.” Mr. Black arose to go on deck. Neva detained him by a gesture, her proud face flushing. “You need not turn back upon my account,” she said half haughtily. “I will accompany Mrs. Black to the Wilderness. I have no wish to appear ungracious, but you will remember that my friends do not know where I am, and may be anxious about me.”