Doris's drooping look and attitude. Travelling all those hours!--and no
doubt without any proper breakfast! However Lady Dunstable might
behave, he would carry Doris into the Lodge directly, and have her
properly looked after. Miss Field and he would see to that.

Suddenly--a sound of talk and laughter, from the shrubbery which divided
the flower garden from the woods and the moor. Lady Dunstable emerged,
with her two companions on either hand. Her vivid, masculine face was
flushed with exercise and discussion. She seemed to be attacking the
Under-Secretary, who, however, was clearly enjoying himself; while Sir
Luke, walking a little apart, threw in an occasional gibe.

"I tell you your land policy here in Scotland will gain you nothing; and
in England it will lose you everything.--Hullo!"

Lady Dunstable's exclamation, as she came to a stop and put up a
tortoise-shell eyeglass, was clearly audible.

"Doris!" cried Meadows excitedly in his wife's ear--"Look here!--what
are you going to say!--what am I to say! that you got tired of London,
and wanted some Scotch air?--that we intend to go off together?--For
goodness' sake, what is it to be?"

Doris rose, her lips breaking irrepressibly into smiles.

"Never mind, Arthur; I'll get through somehow."