Thus pique made her not indisposed to encourage the attention of others, especially of Hawke Holcroft, as we shall show, when he returned to Dundargue before his departure for London. Olive Raymond in her pride of heart bitterly resented the tenor of her father's will. She knew that by the chances of war, climate, and foreign service generally, she might never have seen her cousin again; but now the inevitable seemed at hand, and she felt herself in a measure set apart for him as fairly as if she had personally betrothed herself; but was she to be bound, while he was absolutely free? And stories she had heard--some of them artfully and casually dropped by Holcroft--of more than one flirtation at Chatham and elsewhere, added to the pique in which she was indulging. Lady Aberfeldie now came in through one of the open French windows for her cup of afternoon tea, with a bright scarlet shawl loosely floating over her handsome head and shapely shoulders, quitting the terrace, where she had been amusing herself by feeding the peacocks. She was looking unusually radiant as she announced that Angus, the young keeper, had just come from the shooting lodge to inform her that the Master would be home that afternoon, and that his rooms must be put in order for him without delay. So, on hearing this, the wilful Olive resolved to pay a protracted visit elsewhere, and to be absent when he did arrive. No woman understood the art of dressing better than Lady Aberfeldie, and well was she aware how truly a dainty maize or a coral colour with rich black lace trimmings became her brunette tints, her dark hair and eyes, her pure, yet slightly olive complexion. Her whole air was graceful and queenly, as befitted one who was always to 'walk in silk attire.' Lady Aberfeldie never forgot that she had been the belle of three seasons in Belgravia, and an heiress to the boot, though the memories of others might be less retentive; and now, in her fortieth year, she was a very handsome blooming woman still. 'We must have some dinners and no end of dances and lawn-tennis parties, mamma, in honour of Allan's return,' said Eveline, as she assisted her mother to tea. 'Thank God, my dear boy is home--home again--and safe at last--after all he has faced and undergone,' said Lady Aberfeldie, with a bright and fond expression in her fine face. 'Why, it seems but yesterday, Olive, that you and he were little chits playing together on the lawn or at Nannie's knee--when you had rag dolls, and used to sing together of the old woman that lived in a shoe, or "High upon Highlands and low upon Tay," or of "Alexander, King of Macedon, Who conquered the world but Scotland alone; When he came to Scotland his courage grew cold, To find a little nation courageous and bold, So stout and so bold--" You remember the nursery song, Olive?' 'I have forgotten it, aunt.' 'Then I hope you will remember in its place the adage----' 'What adage?' interrupted Olive sharply.