It was with a sense of joyous relief that the train pulled at last into Innerwick Station. When she got down she saw Betty Heathcote’s yellow brake, the four chestnuts restive in the keen moorland air, and looking very youthful and handsome in a brown coat which made the symphony complete, the lady herself, the wind in her cheeks and in her cheery greeting. “Of course, Doris, you’re to be trusted to do something surprising. Oh, here’s Jack Sandys--you didn’t know, of course.” The sight of these familiar faces gave Doris renewed confidence, and when from the box seat she glanced around in search of her pursuer he had disappeared. Sandys clambered up behind them. Wilson got into the back seat with the grooms, the boxes went in between, and they were off. “Constance was tired, Jack. At least she said she was. I really think that all she wanted was to disappoint you. Nothing like disappointment. It breeds aspiration. But,” she added mischievously, “I’m sure she’s _dying_ to see you. Awf’ly sad--especially since it’s not quite forty-eight hours since you were waving a tearful good-by in Euston Station.” “Did you get my package?” whispered Doris in her ear, at the first opportunity. “What package? Oh, yes, the stockings. It was torn and awf’ly muddy. Higgins dropped it from the dog-cart on the way over and had to go back for it. Lucky he found it--in the middle of the road. What a silly thing to make such a mystery of. And the cigarette papers--you might be sure I’d have something to smoke at Kilmorack House. I can’t understand. You really _could_ smoke here if you want to without so much secrecy about it.” “I--I didn’t know,” stammered the girl. “I--I’ve just taken it up and I thought you mightn’t approve.” Betty glanced at her narrowly. “Whatever ails you, child? _I_ disapprove! You know I smoke when I feel like it--which isn’t often.” The subject fortunately was turned when they passed the road to Ben-a-Chielt. “I always envied Cyril his cliffs. I love the sea and Cyril hates it. ‘So jolly restless,’” she mimicked him. “Makes one ‘quiggledy.’ And there I am--away inland--five miles to the firth at the very nearest. But I suppose,” she sighed, “one has to overlook the deficiencies of one’s grandfather. If he had known I’d have liked the sea, Cyril, of course, would have come into _my_ place.” With this kind of light chatter, of which Lady Heathcote possessed a fund, their whip drove them upon their way, her own fine spirits oblivious of the silence of her companions. But at last she glanced at them suspiciously. “If I didn’t know that you were both hopelessly in love with other persons, I’d think you were _épris_ of each other.” Doris laughed. “We are. That’s why we chose opposite ends of the train.” But Sandys only smiled. “Nothing that’s happening makes a chap happy nowadays. I bring bad news.” Lady Heathcote relaxed the reins so that one of her leaders plunged madly, while her face went white. “Not Algy----”