They moved away along the platform, and on reaching the trap he got up beside her and handed her the reins. "I want to look about, if you don't mind," he explained. "I really think the prospect's worth it," she replied. "Besides, Riever's fresh and needs humoring." She shook the whip, and as they clattered away down the steep, twisting road, Nasmyth glanced with satisfaction to left and right. He had seen wilder and grander lands, but none of them appealed to him like this high, English waste. On one hand dim black hills rose out of fleecy mist; on the other a leafless birch wood, close by, stood out in curiously fragile and delicate tracery against a paling saffron glow, though overhead the sky was barred with motionless gray cloud. A sharp smell of peat-smoke followed them as they clattered past a low white cottage with a yellow glow in one window; and then the earthy scent of rotting leaves replaced it as they plunged into the gloom of an oak wood beneath the birches. A stream splashing down a hollow made faint music in the midst of it. When they had emerged from the shadow and climbed a steep rise, wide moors stretched away in front, rising and falling in long undulations, streaked with belts of mist. The crying of restless plovers came out of the gathering dimness. "All this is remarkably nice; though I don't think I should have appreciated it quite so much if I'd been alone," Nasmyth said at length. Millicent laughed lightly. She had known him since her childhood and was quite aware that he had not intended to pay her a labored compliment; they were too good friends for that. Once, indeed, he had desired a closer bond, but he had quietly acquiesced when with gentle firmness she had made it clear that she was not for him. Submission had not been easy, but he had long admitted her right to more than he could offer. In this, however, he was to some extent mistaken, because the gifts he could bring--a staunch honesty, faithfulness, and a genial nature--are not to be despised. "Well," she replied, "I love these moors and dales, as of course you know, and I've become more of a stay-at-home than ever during the past year." There was a slight regretfulness in her voice which had its meaning for him. "I'm never satisfied with the drawings," she went on, "though I've made so many of them." Nasmyth made a sign of comprehension. She had undertaken to finish and illustrate her brother's roughed-out work, a book on the fauna of the Border, and she had brought to it a fine artistic skill and patience, as well as a love of the wild creatures of the waste. It was, perhaps, a curious occupation for a young woman, but she had devoted herself to it with characteristic thoroughness. "He wanted it to be as complete and accurate as possible," she added simply. Her companion felt compassionate. In some respects, it was almost a pity that Millicent could not forget.