So with a courteous wave of the hand, he led us through stone passages and along echoing corridors, till we came to a door in the wall, from which we entered upon a pleasant prospect of gardens and orchards. Here again there was the same curious silence, and, as it seemed, an absence of the twitter and stir of a Scottish garden in the season of summer. We came presently to a stone building like a tomb, all overshaded with trees. ’This is the orchard house of Auchendrayne,’ he said. ’I believe the Lady Marjorie is within.’ The Dominie and I stayed without with John Mure, while Nell went in alone to greet her sister. We heard the faint murmur of voices and now and then a pulsing check as of a slow, smothered sob. We that were without, stood with our backs to the cold, heavy, white stones under the green shade, while John Mure discoursed learnedly and pleasantly of flower-beds and tulips and the best form of dovecot tower for the supply of the table with pigeon pie. At last Nell came to the door. ’Launcelot, Marjorie wishes you to come in,’ she said. Whereupon I entered and found a large room finished in oaken panelling and moulded archings. Roses looked in at the windows, and a stir of pleasant coolness was all about. Marjorie was sitting by a table with many books spread upon it. My dear lady was pale and white as a lily. She leaned her head wearily on her hand. But there burned a still and unslockened fire in her eye. ’Launcelot,’ she said to me, ’this is not so wide a place to walk within as the pleasaunce at Culzean, nor yet can we see from the garden house of Auchendrayne the rough blue edges of Arran or the round Haystack of Ailsa. I bade her look forward to happy days yet to come, for, indeed, I knew not what to say to her. She smiled upon me wistfully and indulgently, as one does upon a prattling child. ’I thank you, Launcelot,’ she said, ’but I was not born for happiness. Nevertheless, you were ever my good lad. I see you still wear my favour, but doubtless long ere this you have found another lady. Is it not so?’ I told her no, blushing to have to say so in the hearing of Nell—who afterwards might flout me, or, as like as not, cast up again the old matter of Kate Allison. Then through one of the windows I saw John Mure pacing up and down the path with the Dominie at the other side of the garden, so I knew that it was our time to speak. ’Ye have heard of your father’s death?’ said I. ’What think ye? How was it wrought and how brought about? Can you help us to unravel it?’ ’Nay,’ said Marjorie, ’not at present. But in good time I shall yet clear the matter to the roots, and that before I die.’ ’Wherefore will you not come back to us at Culzean? We need you sorely,’ pleaded Nell, who stood holding her sister’s hand. ’Nay,’ said Marjorie, ’my work is not yet done at Auchendrayne.’