Alec Tweedie, who had been proposing to me regularly since the day I came out, was, to my amazement and disgust, standing on the quay at Leith when we arrived there ready to start. We were a little party of four, and as he knew I particularly wished him not to come, and that he would make an odd man in the party and also render the situation uncomfortable for me, I was perfectly furious. I raged up and down that quay, I used every bad word I could think of. But still he was firm to his ground. He would take his gun, he would shoot. He would never say a word to cause me the least embarrassment from the day we started till we returned, he would never refer to the old sentimental charge of which I was heartily sick. In fact, he promised to be on his “best behaviour,” but come he would. I nearly turned tail myself, even at the last moment, so furious was I at the situation. However, as his word of honour was given, I accepted the matter rather than upset the whole party at the eleventh hour or let the others guess the secret. To his credit be it said, he entirely carried out his promise. He was always there when I wanted him, never when I did not. He was just as nice to my girl companion as to myself. He was good pals with the two men, in fact, I do not think any of the others realised the situation in the least. It was his behaviour during that time that made me begin to change my mind. I saw the strain it was on him and admired him for carrying it through. I saw him pull himself up many times and march off to light a pipe for solace. * * * * * If love is service, Alec loved. Riding astride over a lava bed near Hekla my pony fell, the girths gave way, and saddle and I turned round together. It was a nasty fall on my head and I was stunned. Alec appeared—from goodness knows where—to pick me up. I have ridden since I was seven, generally on a side-saddle, but in Iceland, Morocco, and Mexico astride, and only two falls have been my lot, this and another from a side-saddle in Tangier, when my horse, climbing a steep stony road, strained and broke the girths and I fell on the off-side. * * * * * It was not till we were coming into the Firth of Forth many weeks later, just before landing on the quay where I had stormed and raged, that Alec Tweedie said: “There is Edinburgh Castle, have I kept my word?” “Yes,” I replied. “Have you any fault to find with anything I have said or done during the trip?” “No,” I murmured. “Have I kept my promise in the letter and the law?” Again I had to answer “Yes.” “Then you are satisfied?” “But you had no right to come,” I weakly said. “That has nothing to do with it. Are you satisfied?” “Yes,” I had to reply. “Then,” he continued, “remember that my bond is waste paper when we land in a few minutes, and the proposals I have made before, I shall repeat on _terra firma_.” * * * * *