It is impossible to say how much passionate sympathy he was about to express, when a sudden change in Ella Rivers's face made him stop and turn round. To his infinite annoyance there stood Major Moncrief, with the door in his hand, and an expression of utter blank astonishment on his countenance, his coat covered with fast-melting snow, and evidently just dismounted. "Hallo, Moncrief!" cried Wilton, his every-day, sharp senses recalled in a moment by this sudden, unwelcome apparition. "Wet to the skin, I suppose, like Miss Rivers"--a wave of the hand toward her--"and myself. I most fortunately overtook her half-way from Monkscleugh, and brought her here for shelter." "Oh!" ejaculated Moncrief: it sounded like a groan. "You have met my chum, Major Moncrief, have you not, Miss Rivers?" She shook her head. "You know I am always with Donald." "Oh, ah, I see!" muttered Moncrief. "No, I have never had the pleasure of meeting the young lady before; and so, Wilton, I will not interrupt you. I will go and change my clothes." "Interrupt!" said Ella, as he left the room. "What does he mean by interrupt? Who is he?--your uncle--your guardian?" "Do you think I require a guardian at my age?" replied Wilton, laughing, though greatly annoyed at Moncrief's tone. "How old are you?" asked Ella, but so softly and simply that the question did not seem rude. "Almost four and thirty; and, _en revanche_, how old are you?" "Almost twenty." "I should not have thought you so much: yet there are times you look more. However, Moncrief is an old brother-officer of mine; really a friend, but a queer fellow, a little odd." "I see; and I do not think he likes me to be here. Can I not go?" said Ella, starting up and making her way to the window, although she left a shoe behind her in her progress. "Not like you! More probably fascinated at first sight," returned Wilton, attempting to laugh off the impression she had received, though feeling terribly annoyed at Moncrief's manifestation. "And, as to returning, you cannot stir just yet; the snow has only just cleared off and may recommence." "Still I should so much like to return; and I am sure I could manage to walk very well." "I do not wish to be oppressively hospitable, so I will leave you for a moment to inquire what will be the best mode of reaching Brosedale." So saying, he quitted the room and followed Major Moncrief. He found that excellent soldier in his dressing-gown, and wearing a more "gruesome" expression than could be accounted for by his occupation, viz., sipping some scalding-hot whiskey-and-water. "Have you had anything to eat?" asked Wilton, amiably. "I believe luncheon is still on the table." "No, it is not," replied the major, curtly; "and I do not want anything. I had a crust of bread and cheese at that farmer's below the mill, so you can go back to your charming guest."