“No, thanks; I am very well where I am,” said Mrs Ainslie, with a wave of her hand. The conversation inside had ceased, and from the other side of the house there came a small murmur of voices. Mrs Ainslie waited until Janet had disappeared, and then she moved cautiously, making no sound with her feet upon the gravel, round the corner once more to the end window. Cautiously she stooped down to the window ledge and looked in. He was still seated opposite to the window, stretching out his long legs, and laying back his head as if after his dinner he was inclined for a nap. His eyes were closed. He was most perfectly at the mercy of the spy, who gazed in upon him with a fierce eagerness, noting his dress, his thickly grown beard, all the peculiarities of his appearance. She even noticed with an experienced eye the heaviness of his pocket, betraying something within that pocket to which he had moved his hand without conveying any knowledge to Mrs Ogilvy. All of these things this woman knew. She devoured his face with her keen eyes, and there came from her a little unconscious sound of excitement which, though it was not loud, conveyed itself to his watchful ear. He opened his eyes drowsily, said something, and then closed them again, taking no more notice. Lew had dined well and drank well; he was very nearly asleep. She crept round again to the front and took her seat on the bench, again pulling down and arranging the white veil, which was almost like a mask over her face. Susie and Robert came out to her a few minutes after, she leading, he following. “If you will come in and rest,” said Robert, “my mother will probably be back very soon.” “Oh no, it is best for us to get home,” said Mrs Ainslie. “Tell your dear mother we were so sorry to miss her. You were very merry with your friend, Mr Robert, when we came up to the house.” “My friend?” said Robbie, startled. “Yes--I have a friend in the house.” “All the village knows that,” said the lady, “but not who he is. Now I have the advantage of the rest, for I saw him through the window.” Robert was still more startled and disturbed. “We’re--not fond of society--neither he nor I. I was trying to explain to Susie; but it sounds disagreeable. I--can’t leave him, and he knows nobody, so he won’t come with me.” “Tell him he has an acquaintance now. You will come to see me, won’t you? I’ve been a great deal about the world, and I’ve met almost everybody--perhaps you, Mr Robert, I thought so the other day, and certainly--most other people: you can come to see me when you go out for your night walks that people talk of so. Oh, I like night walks. I might perhaps go out a bit with you. Dark is very long of coming these Scotch nights, ain’t it? But one of these evenings I’ll look out for you.” She paused here, and gave him a malicious look through her veil. “I’ll look for you, Mr Robert--and Lew.”