valley between was filled with blue shadow, but in the foreground a
river twinkled in the fading light. Feathery larches grew close up to
the house, and a beck splashed in the gloom among their trunks. Farther
off, a dog barked, and there was a confused bleating of sheep, but this
seemed to emphasize the peaceful calm.

"It's wonderfully quiet," Festing remarked. "I can't get used to the
stillness; I feel as if I was dreaming and would wake up to hear the din
of the rivers and the ballast roaring off the gravel cars. However, I
have some business to do to-morrow that I'm not keen about. Can one see
Knott Scar from here?"

"It's the blue ridge, about six miles off. The dark patch on its slope
is a big beech wood."

"Then do you know the Daltons?"

"Oh, yes," said Muriel. "Helen Dalton is a friend of mine. Although the
Scar's some way off, I see her now and then. But are you going there?"

"I am; I wish it wasn't needful," Festing answered rather gloomily.

"Ah!" said Muriel, giving him a sharp glance. "Helen was to have married
a man in Canada, but the engagement was broken off. Do you know him?"

"I do. That's why I'm going to the Scar. I've promised to explain
matters as far as I can."

Muriel studied his disturbed face with a twinkle of amusement. "Well,
I'm sorry for Helen; it must have been a shock. For all that, I thought