‘Well, of course I couldn’t go to dances or anything of that kind just yet; but it is dreadfully tiresome to see no one from one day to another, to have no games or amusements of any kind.’ ‘There are always the hills, you know,’ said Alec. Laura glanced at her companion to see whether he was laughing, and perceiving that he was perfectly serious, she turned away her face with a little _moue_. ‘The hills don’t amuse me; they weary me; and sometimes, when I get up in the night and look at them, they terrify me. Think what it would be to be up among those rocks on a winter’s night, with the snowflakes whirling around you, and the wind roaring--ugh! Let us talk of something else.’ They did so, but there was little spirit in the conversation. Alec could not conceive of anyone with a heart and a pair of eyes who should not love these mountain-tops as he did himself. He had already endowed Laura with every conceivable grace, and he had taken it for granted that the power to appreciate mountain scenery was among her gifts. Here, at least, was a deficiency, a point on which his mind and hers were not in harmony. With feminine tact Laura saw that she had disappointed her companion in some way, and she easily guessed at the cause. ‘I see you don’t appreciate my straightforwardness,’ she said, after a little pause. ‘Knowing that you have such a passion for mountain scenery, I ought to have pretended that I was as fond of it as you are yourself.’ ‘No, indeed.’ ‘That would have been polite; but it would not have been quite straightforward. I always say the thing that comes uppermost, you know; I can’t help it.’ Of course she did; and of course her simple honesty was infinitely better than even a love of Scotch scenery. The latter would no doubt come with more familiar acquaintance with it. And was she not herself the most charming thing that the sun shone down upon that summer day? Laura knew very well that this, or something like it, was the thought in the lad’s mind as he bade her good-day with lingering eyes. Perhaps she would not have been ill pleased if he had said what he was thinking; but it never entered into his head to pay the girl a compliment: he would have fancied it an impertinence. ‘What a queer, stupid boy he is!’ said Laura to herself, as she peeped back at him while she closed the gate behind her. ‘I can’t help liking him, but he is so provoking, with his enthusiastic, sentimental nonsense. Heigh-ho! There’s the luncheon-bell. And after that there are four hours to be spent somehow before dinner!’ CHAPTER XI. A RIVAL. ‘Hullo! Semple!’ ‘Hullo! Alec!’ ‘Didn’t expect to see _you_ here.’ ‘As little did I expect to see _you_.’ ‘When did you come?’ ‘Only last night; by an excursion steamer.’ ‘Staying with Uncle James?’ ‘Yes: he asked me to spend my holidays down here, and I thought I might as well come.’ ‘How long do you get?’