and that was the condition. So I believe he is pretty well off now and
is waiting for a seat. He has been nursing this constituency, and since
the election comes off in a month or two, we asked him down here to
stay. He has also written a lot of things and he is somebody's private
secretary." And Lady Manorwater relapsed into vagueness.

The girl listened without special interest, save that she modified her
verdict on Mr. Stocks, and allowed, some degree of respect for him to
find place in her heart. The fighter in life always appealed to her,
whatever the result of his struggle.

Then Lady Manorwater proceeded to hymn his excellences in an
indeterminate, artificial manner, till the men came into the room, and
conversation became general. Lord Manorwater made his way to Alice,
thereby defeating Mr. Stocks, who tended in the same direction. "Come
outside and see things, Miss Wishart," he said. "It's a shame to miss a
Glenavelin evening if it's fine. We must appreciate our rarities."

And Alice gladly followed him into the still air of dusk which made hill
and tree seem incredibly distant and the far waters of the lake merge
with the moorland in one shimmering golden haze. In the rhododendron
thickets sparse blooms still remained, and all along by the stream-side
stood stately lines of yellow iris above the white water-ranunculus.
The girl was sensitive to moods of season and weather, and she had
almost laughed at the incongruity of the two of them in modern clothes
in this fit setting for an old tale. Dickon of Glenavelin, the sworn
foe of the Lord of Etterick, on such nights as this had ridden up the
water with his bands to affront the quiet moonlight. And now his
descendant was pointing out dim shapes in the park which he said were
prize cattle.