Archie came over the hill, lifting his feet high among the heather. He had changed in his aspect a little since the old Glasgow days. For one thing he had changed his tailor, which always makes a great difference. And three months of the fresh Highland air and outdoor exercise, and something too of the growing habit of a little authority and command, and that of having things done for him, of saying to this man, go, and he goeth, and to another, come, and he cometh, had changed the looks of Archie. And another more subtle influence had changed him. His brow had cleared of an overhanging cloud, once too ready to come down at a moment’s notice. He held his head more erect. It was not perhaps that he was in reality more sure of himself--but at least he had somehow acquired the air of being so--and he was of course more accustomed and at ease in the habits of his new life. He could not think why he had been called in this way; and did not indeed recognise Eddy, whose presence here on the top of the moor was the last thing any one could have expected. Eddy was not fond of long walks. To stroll down to the beach with his hands in his pocket, and when he had got there, to sit on a rock and throw stones into the water, was the hardest exercise he generally indulged in, except a day’s shooting now and then, when he showed himself, notwithstanding his indolence, as to the manner born--a thing which Archie could never do. But how he should have got up here without any motive was a thing which young Rowland could not understand. “Is it you?” he cried with surprise when he came near enough to recognise his guest. “It’s just me--which I perceive is the formula here,” cried Eddy. “I’ve no right to invite you to sit down, as this is your own place; but I can recommend that ling bush. It’s dry, and there is no gorse about to prick into your vitals. Are you in a hurry, or can you wait a bit here.” “Oh, I am in no hurry,” said Archie. “It’s not easy to be in a hurry when you’ve got nothing to do.” “Do you think so? I’m always in a hurry and always late--though I have nothing to do.” “I suppose it’s according to a man’s nature,” said Archie. “Everything is that if you go to the bottom of things. You’re one of the restless fellows that want to be doing--I don’t. I love idleness,” said Eddy, stretching himself back over the ling, with his arms extended over his head and his eyes on the sky. The sky was covered with clouds, yet there was a break of blue just over Eddy’s head, which he regarded complacently as if it had been made for his special use. “I was surprised to see you up so far--it’s a good climb from the loch side.” “So it is;” said Eddy, “it was not for want of something to do. So long as there’s a billiard table handy, thank heaven, you never need be without occupation. If there’s nobody to have a game with, you can at least be improving your own play.” “I did not think of that,” said Archie.