Walter had not intended to spend the night in Moray Place, and indeed had given orders to his servant to take rooms in one of the hotels, and convey his luggage thither; but he forgot all this now, and took his way instinctively up another flight of those tall stairs to the room which he had occupied before. It brought him to himself, however, with the most curious shock of surprise and consternation, when he recognised not the servant whom he had brought with him, but old Symington, as precise and serious as ever, and looking as if there had been no break in his punctilious service. He was arranging his master's clothes just as he had done on the winter evening when Lord Erradeen had first been taken possession of by this zealous retainer of the family. Walter was so startled, bewildered, and almost overawed by this sudden apparition, that he said with a gasp-- "You here, Symington!" and made no further objection to his presence. "It is just me, my lord," Symington said. "I was waiting at the station, though your lordship might not observe me. I just went with your lad to the hotel, and put him in good hands." "And may I ask why you did that without consulting me; and what you are doing here?" Walter cried, with a gleam of rising spirit. Symington looked at him with a sort of respectful contempt. "And does your lordship think," he said, "that it would be befitting to take a young lad, ignorant of the family, _up yonder_?" With a slight pause of indignant yet gentle reproach, after these words, he added--"Will your lordship wear a white tie or a black?" with all the gravity that became the question. CHAPTER XII. There is in the winter season, when the stream of tourists is cut off, a sort of family and friendly character about the Highland railways. The travellers in most cases know each other by sight, if no more; and consult over a new-comer with the curiosity of a homely community, amid which a new figure passing in the street excites sentiments of wonder and interest as a novelty. "Who do you suppose that will be at this time of the year?" they say; and the little country stations are full of greetings, and everybody is welcomed who comes, and attended by kindly farewells who goes away. There was no doubt this time as to who Lord Erradeen was as he approached the termination of his journey; and when he had reached the neighbourhood of the loch, a bustle of guards and porters--that is to say, of the one guard belonging to the train, and the one porter belonging to the station, familiarly known by name to all the passengers--ushered up to the carriage in which he was seated the beaming presence of Mr. Williamson. "So here ye are," said the millionnaire. "Lord Erradeen! I told Tammas he must be making a mistake." "Na, na, I was making no mistake," said Tammas, in a parenthesis.