"Go away I can and will, if you say so, Winsome; but even you do
not believe that I can forget you when I like."

"And you will go away?" said Winsome, looking at him with eyes
that would have chained a Stoic philosopher to the spot.

"Yes," said Ralph, perjuring his intentions.

"And you will not try to see me any more--you promise?" she added,
a little spiteful at the readiness with which he gave his word.

So Ralph made a promise. He succeeded in keeping it just twenty-
four hours--which was, on the whole, very creditable, considering.

What else he might have promised we cannot tell--certainly
anything else asked of him so long as Winsome continued to look at
him.

Those who have never made just such promises, or listened to them
being made--occupations equally blissful and equally vain--had
better pass this chapter by. It is not for the uninitiated. But it
is true, nevertheless.

So in silence they walked down to the opening of the glen. As they
turned into the broad expanse of glorious sunshine the shadows
were beginning to slant towards them. Loch Grannoch was darkening
into pearl grey, under the lee of the hill. Down by the high-
backed bridge, which sprang at a bound over the narrows of the
lane, there was a black patch on the greensward, and the tripod of