JOURNEY INTO SPRING

Jean S MacLeod

Old Mrs. Abercrombie was a darling, and Elizabeth was delighted to land the job of escorting her from Australia around the world to Scotland. But the old lady's stern grandson Charles was another matter: first Elizabeth crossed swords with him, then she fell in love with him. But Charles, she knew, was going to marry someone else....

CHAPTER ONE

THE roof of the Opera House caught the morning sun, like the sails of some fabulous barque come to rest by the waterside, and out across the Gove the gleaming stretch of the great Harbour Bridge stood silhouetted in a perfect arc against the skyline, its paler reflection completing the circle in the water below.

Sydney, city of the sun and a thousand points, was living up to its name. Beyond Bennelong, Kirribilli and Milson's and Blues stretched eager fingers towards the heart of the city where the great ships were moored all along the Circular Quay, spilling their cargoes and passengers almost directly on to the Expressway as it hurried towards Bradfield.

Looking down on it from an office window in one of the high buildings above the Quay, Elizabeth Drummond drew in a deep breath of appreciation, yet the hot sunshine which warmed her through the window-pane would soon be a thing of the past for her if she had her way. The interview before her was her first step towards a journey to the other side of the world, one she had been determined to make ever since her mother had died without fulfilling the secret desire in her heart to revisit the distant land of her birth.

Elizabeth had known about her mother's wish for many years, but there had never been enough money in the family purse to take them both to Scotland, and after her father's death it had been scarcer than ever. They had lived comfortably enough in a suburb of Brisbane until her mother's final illness, but now, after a year, it seemed to Elizabeth that it was time to go. In an odd sort of way she felt that her pilgrimage to the Old World would fulfil some of the dreams which, for Janet Drummond, had never crane to fruition.

Turning from the window, she looked about her once again. The interview room was large and expensively furnished, with a thick carpet covering the floor and a large, formidable-looking desk taking pride of place in the centre of the room. Half a dozen leather-upholstered chairs were set at vantage points around it and a globe of the world stood before one of the long windows overlooking the Cove, while the walls were adorned by several pictures in heavy gilt frames, each with a maritime theme. Tall ships and little coasters sailed their separate ways across the canvases, each proclaiming that the Abercrombie empire had been built on the traffic of the oceans which stretched between Sydney and their headquarters in Scotland on the other side of the world.

Idly Elizabeth rotated the globe by her side, allowing her imagination to carry her across the seas until the door at the far end of the room opened and a tall man in a light tropical suit came towards her. He was younger than she had expected.

"Miss Drummond?" he speculated. "Please sit down. I'm sorry I had to keep you waiting, but pressure of business and all that..."

He regarded her quizzically, as if he did not quite expect her to believe his statement, his blue eyes amused at the thought of really hard work, but perhaps she was judging him too swiftly.

"I was admiring your view," she told him, aware that his unexpected youthfulness had disconcerted her for a moment "It must be one of the finest in Sydney."

"It certainly takes in most of our interests," he allowed, glancing carelessly through the other window which afforded him a vista of the gardens surrounding Government House and across Farm Cove to Mrs. Macquarie's Point "One gets used to it, I suppose." He turned to face her again. "You sound as if Sydney was new to you."

"I've been here a month," Elizabeth confessed. "I haven't quite got my bearings yet, but I love it."

"Yet you want to leave us." The keen blue gaze was suddenly speculative. "Why?"

"I've always wanted to go to Scotland," Elizabeth explained. "My mother was born there and she talked so much about it, but we never had enough money to let her return, even for a flying visit."

"I take it your mother is dead?"

"She died three months ago."

"No other family?" He threw the question at her in a businesslike way which pulled her thoughts together. "No especial ties?"

"I have a brother working at Mount Isa, but he's married with a family of his own."

"Which leaves you more or less free to please yourself," he suggested. "You mentioned in your letter that your father had died some time ago."

"He was killed in an accident three years ago—in Brisbane."

Perhaps that was why she had come to Sydney in the first place, she reflected in the brief pause which followed. To get away from so many painful memories.

"I'm sorry," he murmured conventionally as he offered her a cigarette from the silver box on the desk "It does make it easier for you to travel, though. Without let or hindrance, so to speak. You don't smoke?" He snapped the box shut. "Perhaps that's just as well. My grandmother has a horror of women with a cigarette eternally between her fingers. She's French." '

Although she could not quite follow his reasoning, Elizabeth was now keenly interested. The advertisement had said 'Secretary-companion to lady travelling to Scotland' and she had jumped at the chance, but now she waited for further information with a new excitement tingling in her veins.

"You looked after your mother for some time," he said after a brief reappraisal of her written qualifications. "I know she was sick and my grandmother isn't, but you must have acquired a lot of experience of older people while you nursed your mother."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement.

"I'm also an efficient secretary," she reminded him. "I trained in Brisbane and held a post there for two years."

"H'm," said he, turning over the neatly-typed reference which her former employer had signed with his habitual flourish. "That won't be as important as your ability to cope with Grand'mere." Suddenly he was laughing, his fair head thrown back, his blue eyes sparkling. "I think you could do it," he declared. "You've got a determined look about you which suggests that you really want the job." He thrust impatient fingers through his hair. "I've read dozens of applications and yours seemed to be the only one with a sensible reason for wanting to go to Scotland. Most of the others wanted to call it a day once they had reached London. The Great Metropolis, Mecca of the young Australian heart!"

"You sound peculiarly disillusioned," she remarked, because he was young himself. "But perhaps you have been to London often enough."

"I was born there," he said, getting up to look out of the window. "I came to Australia to take over the Sydney branch of the business when I was twenty-five, having sown some of my wild oats in Scotland by then. It's something of a tradition in our family that young males don't really come of age until they're well past their twenty-first birthday, and certainly my grandmother wouldn't allocate responsibility to anyone under twenty-five."

Elizabeth looked surprised.

"That doesn't apply to secretary-companions," he hastened to add. "She's going to like you."

"How can you be so sure?"

He smiled confidently.

"Because Grand'mere and I are two of a kind," he declared. "We like the same things and enjoy the same freedoms. She's seventy-three, but age doesn't mean a thing where she's concerned. She could be twenty-three for all the sense she's got sometimes, and she's determined to go on travelling around the world till she drops in her tracks, organising this and that, business-wise. She'll gladly plan your life for you, too, so look out!"

It was developing into a most unconventional interview, and Grand'mere was already beginning to take shape in Elizabeth's mind as a spry old lady observing the world through sparkling blue eyes while the keen, businesslike brain behind them worked with crystal-like clarity, assessing all that went on in the world about her. She could hardly wait for their meeting.

"Is your grandmother here, in Sydney?" she asked.

"She has a friend's flat out at Rose Bay." He glanced at his watch. "I'll take you over there. We'd better have lunch in the meantime," he suggested with the same breezy familiarity. "I'll ring her for three o'clock."

He lifted the telephone receiver and Elizabeth moved back to the window.

"Hullo! Grand'mere?" he called brightly when the connection was made in the outer office. "I've found someone I think you'll like."

There was a brief pause.

"As a travelling companion," he explained. "Of course, you need a companion, but this one is also an excellent secretary."

The phone buzzed with the voice from the far end of the line while Elizabeth tried to concentrate on the hazy smudge of Fort Denison across the Cove and the nearer trees in the Botanic Gardens.

"No, she's not middle-aged and stodgy. Not at all." Elizabeth was aware of the blue eyes appraising her across the desk even although her back was turned. "She's young, and she has a glorious mop of red hair, and she wants to go to Scotland because her mother was born there but was never able to go back."

Again there was a brief silence in the office while the distant voice took over the conversation.

"Of course," her prospective employer agreed at last, "we wouldn't expect you to accept anyone you hadn't met first. Can I bring Miss Drummond over this afternoon? Three o'clock, I thought. Would that suit you?"

There was a brief rejoinder from the other end of the line, followed by what seemed to be a quick barrage of further questioning.

"Oh, Charles!" Elizabeth turned from the window to find her companion frowning at the telephone. "He's gone out to Rushcutters' Bay, but he should be back before four o'clock. We can confront him with the fait accompli when next we see him."

The voice on the line was sharp with reprimand.

"It isn't 'atrocious French' at all," her companion laughed, "and we're not really conspirators, Grand'mere. Surely you can make your own choice of a companion without Charles laying down the law about age-groups and what have you?" The laugh strengthened. "All right, 'atrocious English' if you like! We'll see you at three o'clock."

It was just after twelve. Elizabeth's interview had been for eleven-thirty, so she was probably the last in a long line of candidates for the post of secretary-companion to Mrs. Abercrombie. It didn't follow, however, that she should be taken out to lunch.

"I can come back at half-past two," she offered. "I can find some shopping to do in the town."

"And spoil my lunch?" He got up from the chair behind the desk, tall and slim and very fair in the shaft of sunlight penetrating the room of a sudden. "I hate to eat alone. My name's Jason Abercrombie, by the way. We're a small family, all dedicated to the business in our separate ways," he added as he held open the door for her. "You'll get to know us in next to no time."

"Depending on your grandmother's ultimate decision," Elizabeth reminded him, because already she recognised that old Mrs. Abercrombie would have the final say when it came to employing her.

Jason Abercrombie was silent for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons of the situation as they went through the outer office. For the first time since the interview began he seemed uncertain.

"I don't think we need worry," he said at last. "Charles is no real match for Grand'mere once she's set her mind on something."

"Charles?" For no good reason the name sent a chill through Elizabeth's heart.

"My older brother," Jason explained. "He's mainly responsible for the Scottish end of the business, but he travels to and fro occasionally, chiefly seeking orders. He's hare just now."

There seemed to be an odd reserve in him when he spoke about his brother, as if the older man's name had opened up an old sore.

"Would it be impossible for your grandmother to travel back to Scotland with him?" Elizabeth asked.

"It would. She would never be ready in time, for one thing, and Charles travels too fast for another. He's off to San Francisco at the end of the week. Business comes first where Charles Is concerned," he added a little bitterly. "He lives in the family home in Scotland, but it's only a pied-a-terre as far as he's concerned. Most of the time he's travelling, very fast and very far. All the same, I suppose he does feel a certain obligation towards the old lady, since die's still the head of the family. When she wants to visit him she tells him so and he lays everything on. She's very fond of Scotland."

More and more, Mrs. Abercrombie was reminding Elizabeth of her mother, but the thought of Charles Abercrombie remained disconcerting. He had only to disapprove of her and her hopes of a visit to Scotland would be crushed, at least for the time being.

"Qantas has a reputation for taking care of elderly passengers," she pointed out to her own disadvantage. "You would only need to see your grandmother on the plane at Sydney and your brother could pick her up at London airport."

They went down in the lift.

"You don't know my grandmother!" Jason chuckled. "She could manufacture a dozen reasons on the journey to change her itinerary and not turn up anywhere near London, especially if she were to travel alone. A message would be waiting at the airport to tell Charles where she'd stopped off and he would be furious. My brother hasn't the time nor the inclination to chase all over the globe looking for her, so he wants me to find a suitable companion for her on the journey. A watchdog, if you like."

"I'm not the type," Elizabeth informed him, her heart sinking. "I'm quite sure I wouldn't be able to cope with —a self-willed old lady who was determined to have her own way."

"Why not?" They walked along the sidewalk in the autumn sunshine. "Several times you've referred to Scotland as 'home'," he pointed out. "You must really want to go."

"That's not the point," she objected. "We're not discussing my lifelong ambition or my desires, just my ultimate suitability for the job. I'd have to be quite certain that I could do it properly to—everyone's satisfaction."

"Don't let the thought of Charles frighten you." He took her arm to guide her across the busy street "By this time next week he'll be far away."

But waiting in London when they got there, Elizabeth thought. Then, suddenly, it seemed that she was making too much of Charles Abercrombie's reactions to her appointment as his grandmother's secretary-companion. By the time they met in London they would be saying goodbye and she would be free to travel to Scotland on her own. She had saved enough money to keep her in board and lodgings for six months, and the fact that her air travel would now be paid by the Abercrombies left her with a healthy balance for sightseeing in the fair land of her mother's birth.

A quick excitement stirred along her veins at the prospect as they turned into the restaurant of Jason Abercrombie's choice.

Looking at him across the table in one of the glass-enclosed booths which were a feature of the place, she found him agreeably attractive. He told her that he played a great deal of tennis and watched cricket at Trumper Park whenever he could, but his great love appeared to be sailing. He owned a small racing dinghy and had a part share in an ocean-going yacht.

"Sydney is the sailing man's paradise," he assured her. "Can you think of another city so well equipped with accessible bays, for instance? Even Charles has to admit that we have the advantage of good weather over here, although he's completely sold on the Western Highlands for his odd sojourn at sea."

Charles again!

"You make your brother sound too busy even to enjoy himself," she remarked.

"Abercrombie's comes first with Charles. It always has. Abercrombie's and Glen Dearg. He believes in roots, you see—Abercrombie roots going deep into the soil of Scotland for over three hundred years. We're an offshoot here, something that grew out of the Clyde connection quite naturally when an Abercrombie brother decided to settle overseas at the end of the last century."

"As you did in this," she suggested.

Jason Abercrombie hesitated for a second.

"I hadn't a lot of "choice," he answered slowly. "It was considered good for me at the time, and so I was sent to Sydney. I'm glad now, in a way, and Charles keeps an eagle eye on the business side of things. Flying to Australia to check up is like crossing the street as far as he's concerned."

Elizabeth felt curiously uneasy, wondering why Charles Abercrombie had left the choice of his grandmother's travelling companion to his brother when he so obviously liked to keep the reins tightly in his own hands, but probably it was a minor issue so far as he was concerned, not important enough to merit his attention to any significant degree.

She studied her menu while the waiter handed Jason the wine list. The restaurant was secluded and evidently expensive and he seemed to be well known to the management because more than one waiter hovered near their table and their first course was served immediately. Elizabeth savoured the quiet luxury of her surroundings with deep appreciation.

"Living in a bed-sit was never like this!" She smiled into her companion's appraising eyes. "It's very kind of you, Mr. Abercrombie."

"Not to mention!" he said. "I like congenial company when I go out for a meal. I could have eaten with Charles, and it was only by the merest fluke that he went out to Rushcutters' this morning."

Otherwise, Elizabeth thought, he might have conducted the interviews and she would not have been sitting facing Jason at this moment.

"Had your brother any specific qualifications in mind?" she asked apprehensively.

"At a guess, he'd be looking for perfection," Jason grinned. "But not to worry! Grand'mere will settle everything. Even Charles knows that and bows to the inevitable most of the time."

"I can hardly wait to meet your grandmother."

He glanced at his watch.

"We mustn't keep her waiting, but we've got plenty of time for a comfortable chat Tell me what you think of Sydney," he demanded.

"It isn't Brisbane, but you can let that pass. I was born and brought up in Queensland and I love it very much."

"Yet you're willing to leave it for a very long time."

"Six months. It isn't really long. Years ago I made up my mind to travel whenever I could. It was something I had to do, like every other Australian whose parents came from the 'old country'. My mother spoke so much about Scotland that I feel I know it already."

The immensity of the adventure upon which she had set her heart struck Elizabeth with a suddenness which was momentarily disconcerting, but somehow she thought that Jason Abercrombie would understand how she felt.

"It's my country, too," he said with surprising sincerity, "and one day I may go bade there, though not for keeps. I belong out here, I guess, and Charles can have his hills and lochs when he is finally head of the family. At the present moment Grand'mere is still head girl and loving every moment of it She's still a force to be reckoned with. She went to Scotland from France as a very young bride and die's been Abercrombie's ever since. Like most Frenchwomen, she has a keen business brain and she kept things ticking over when Grandfather. Abercrombie died until my father was able to take over in his turn. Grandfather was a wily old bird, I guess, when he left her most of the shares and a controlling interest in everything."

"Which means she has the final say," Elizabeth mused. "You said you were alike in many ways, you and your grandmother," she prompted. "Does that mean you also have an astute business brain?"

He shook his head.

"That's where I let the side down," he confessed. "If it weren't for Charles's watching brief I'd be sunk. Hence Big Brother's periodical visits to Sydney."

They lingered over their coffee, served with a delightful assortment of small sweetmeats which Jason ate with enjoyment.

"I come here particularly for the 'afters'," he announced. "They're a speciality of the house and Grand'mere loves them." He consulted his watch. "I'll take her along some in a box. Don't worry about the interview," he added as they waited for the sweetmeats to be gift-wrapped. "She's the easiest person in the world to know. Like me," he suggested brightly.

"I wasn't thinking about your grandmother," Elizabeth confessed.

"Who, then?"

"I was wondering about your brother. He could so easily find me unsuitable."

"I'll put in a good word for you," he promised as he settled his bill. "It will carry weight with Grand'mere, at least."

Elizabeth determined to forget Charles Abercrombie. Like a passing ship, he would soon be lost on the horizon and, even if she had to meet him again in London on a specified date, it would be briefly.

When they reached the sidewalk Jason hailed a passing taxi.

"Rose Bay," he directed, getting in beside her.

Glad of his company, Elizabeth settled back against the cool leather upholstery to enjoy the ride. Rose Bay was a part of Sydney which she had not visited before and she looked about her eagerly. The busy streets, already thronged with afternoon shoppers, seemed warm and friendly, a happy augury for her coming interview with the head of the Abercrombie family, and Jason kept up a bright flow of conversation to assure her that nothing could possibly go wrong. She confessed inwardly that it would be a terrible blow to her if she didn't get the job, because it all fitted in so well with her plans.

They came to the Bay, turning down a side street lined with large, detached houses built during the Victorian era for the prosperous merchants of the town who were sailors at heart. Most of them looked out to sea, either directly or across little enclosed parks where the trees were already shedding their leaves, and here and there Elizabeth caught a glimpse of white-clad figures intent on a game of bowls or cricket while the season lasted.

The taxi driver pulled up on a comer where another side road led off to a row of houses even more secluded than their neighbours.

"No entry," he announced. "You'll have to walk from here."

Jason was already at the door.

"It isn't far. Just beyond the three posts." He paid the driver and tucked a friendly hand into the crook of her arm. "If we come by car we have to go round the other way, but the cabbies won't go round if they can help it."

"What about your grandmother?" Elizabeth asked. "Does she drive?"

"No," he smiled. "The cabbies go round the other way!"

Walking quickly, they went through between the posts into a sort of cobbled enclosure which looked as if it might have been a coachyard at one time.

"Here we are," Jason announced. "These old houses were converted into flats some time ago and they're just the job for people of Grand'mere's vintage. They're modern without seeming to be, and they have convenient lifts."

They went in at a heavy oak door, shooting up to the first floor in an electric lift which spilled them out on to a broad landing which had originally been an upper hall. Two wide oak doors confronted them and Jason rang the bell on the nearest one.

Elizabeth held her breath, wondering about first impressions and what an old lady of seventy-three would be looking for in a secretary-companion.

The door opened and Jason led her forward, kissing his grandmother on the cheek as they passed.

"Grand'mere, I've brought you the most efficient secretary-companion in Sydney," he announced lavishly. "You're bound to like one another, because I felt it in my bones as soon as we met."

"You fee! too many things in your bones, mon cher!" The voice was strong and vigorous, with a hint of laughter behind the words of reprimand. "But no doubt the young lady will make her own decision once you have gone."

"Am I not invited to tea?" he asked plaintively. "You have no heart, Grand'mere. I was looking forward to muffins and toast."

"If I know you, Jason, you have just finished an excellent lunch," his grandmother admonished. "Be off with you and let me manage my own affairs!"

Jason effected the necessary introduction with a rueful smile in Elizabeth's direction.

"You see how I'm treated! Grand'mere," he added, "this is Miss Elizabeth Drummond. Her mother was a Scot and she's very eager to go to Scotland."

"Indeed?"

Elizabeth found herself looking into a pair of brown eyes as shrewd as Jason's but without guile. Mrs. Abercrombie was taller than her grandson by several indies and she carried herself with a dignity he would never achieve. Her back was ramrod-straight, her piled-up hair snow-white and her skin, like fine old porcelain with the patina of age on it but without flaw. There were no wrinkles on her face except around the eyes, which suggested that she laughed often, and her mouth was firm and kind. She shook Elizabeth by the hand as they faced each other in the pleasant hall.

"We'll talk in here," she suggested, "where the sun lingers."

A door stood invitingly open on the right and she ushered Elizabeth into a pleasant sitting-room as her grandson prepared to take his leave.

"You must have work to do," she told him firmly, "even if Charles is in Sydney for a few days."

"You'll come back to the office?" Jason suggested, looking at Elizabeth as he put the box of sweetmeats down on a table.

Elizabeth nodded.

"If you wish."

Mrs. Abercrombie went to the door with her grandson while Elizabeth looked about her. The sitting-room was large and expensively furnished in excellent taste, and it led on to a long, enclosed balcony overlooking a small park adjacent to the bay. Tall trees laced the skyline, while the glass effectively shut out the roar of traffic from the busy thoroughfare beyond. There was a stillness about the atmosphere which belonged to a bygone age, yet the distant view dominated the bays and the comings and goings of little ships. Yachts still cruised on the blue water and speedboats wove their impatient way out towards the headlands, although autumn had already set in and there was little time for sailing.

"Will you sit down, Miss Drummond, or are you utterly entranced by my view?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Elizabeth turned from the window, a little nervous now that Jason had gone. "I didn't hear you come in."

"My older grandson tells me that I tread like a cat. I'm not quite sure what he means," Mrs. Abercrombie laughed, "because Charles can be quite obtuse when he likes. Have you met him?" The brown eyes were suddenly quizzical.

"No." Elizabeth saved herself from adding 'not yet' because there was no firm reason why she should ever meet Charles Abercrombie.

"Ah," said Grand'mere, "you have that hurdle to clear, I see."

She spoke with the barest suggestion of an accent, which was delightful, and somehow Elizabeth knew that it was cultivated because the old lady would never willingly relinquish her right to remain a Frenchwoman. Loyal and completely dedicated to Abercrombie's throughout her married life, she was still French at heart, as Elizabeth's mother had remained a Scot to the end.

"We'll sit here, in the sun." She pulled forward a chair to face the balcony. "I like to watch the yachts go by. Jason has a sailing dinghy, but I expect he told you about it. He probably gave you lunch."

"It was very thoughtful of him."

"Oh, Jason is thoughtful enough. We must give him credit for that, at least. Sometimes I ask myself about his judgment, however. He is apt to make snap decisions which Charles would never arrive at, but we cannot all be alike." The brown eyes probed beyond the smile on Elizabeth's face, frankly assessing. "Jason said you want to go to Scotland. Is that your only reason for applying for the position, Miss Drummond?"

"It was my main reason, I suppose, apart from the fact that I need to work," Elizabeth returned frankly. "My mother and I often talked about going together, but—but it hasn't turned out that way. She died a few months ago."

"And you are alone?"

"I have a brother at Mount Isa."

"A long way away. Is he married?"

"Yes."

"I see."

What she did see was probably the truth. Elizabeth had found herself unwanted in a household dominated by an aggressive sister-in-law and she had been too proud to stay in her brother's home for more than a couple of weeks. After that it had been her heartbreaking task to sell the family home and make a new life for herself elsewhere. She had chosen Sydney because it was far enough away from her former ties and because it had seemed to offer the wider opportunity she sought.

The old lady sitting in the armchair opposite her seemed to see it all without explanation, the shrewd gaze taking in the moment of emotion as she talked about her former home and the happiness she had known there.

"Tell me about your mother," she suggested.

Surprised by the intimacy of the question, Elizabeth hesitated.

"It's something I want to know," Mrs. Abercrombie said.

"She was a wonderful person." Elizabeth's eyes were suddenly alight with love and admiration. "I never heard her say a harsh word about anyone. She was invariably kind."

"But not colourless."

"Oh, no, anything but colourless! She had a tremendous personality, with so many interests that it was often difficult to keep up with her. After my father died she helped in all sorts of ways. She was well known in Brisbane, and she plunged right back into the swim of things. Her appetite for voluntary work surprised even the hospital authority, and because she had no longer a family 'to neglect' she was there most of the time. I was at college, but she made a point of being at home when I got back in the evenings. We were friends."

The last three words were the ultimate accolade she had to offer, and Adele Abercrombie nodded her understanding.

"Il va sans dire! I, too, had a wonderful mother," she remembered. "She taught me never to prevaricate and never to sell myself short. In these days girls had far less freedom than you have now, but there was no question of my family choosing a suitable husband for me. I was left to make my own decision, and when I fell in love with Douglas Abercrombie I married him, unaware that we would build up a flourishing shipping line together and a robust and happy family which, to me, was far more important. My oldest son died in the war without leaving an heir., but the younger one— Alex—had two sons. One of them you have met."

Elizabeth nodded.

"Jason is so like you." She bit her lip. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said that," she added diffidently. "It was much too personal."

"But everyone says so, and I like to think that it is true," Mrs. Abercrombie declared. "He has my adventurous nature, certainly, and sometimes I wish that he would pause to think more often, but we are not all made perfect. It would be a dull world if we were, don't you think?"

Elizabeth agreed.

"My mother used to say that our faults endeared us to her so long as we didn't step too far out of line, and I don't think we ever made her—ashamed."

"What more would you have!" Mrs. Abercrombie glanced at the gold fob-watch pinned to her blouse. "I have set a tray for tea. You will find it in the kitchen, through that door over there, Miss Drummond. Will you bring it in, please?"

Elizabeth got up to do her bidding, aware of a warm friendliness between them which she had not expected on first acquaintance. If she was lucky enough to get the job in the end she knew that she would be happy in it.

The kitchen was light and airy, with ultra-modern fittings and glass, sliding doors leading on to the balcony which suggested that the owner of the flat took many of her meals in the open air. The little balcony reminded Elizabeth of the sleep-outs in the Morningside house in Brisbane where she had been born and the many happy hours she had spent there. Mrs. Abercrombie had seemed to understand about that, too.

She found the tray, carrying it back to the sitting-room where the old lady had lit the silver spirit kettle which stood on a small table near her chair.

"Tea becomes a ritual as one grows older," she declared. "It is a splendid excuse for pausing for a moment to reflect The world is so busy nowadays I often wonder if we are not all rushing to some terrible end. My older grandson, Charles, never has any time for tea. He is always involved with one thing or another, never able to relax, I fear. Even when he is at Glen Dearg he can always find something to be done which he must see to immediately. We are all very proud of our Scottish home. It is in one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland, although it is quite near the Clyde where all the money is made. That is a great feature of Glasgow, by the way," she ran on. "In so short a time— a mere twenty minutes' motoring—one can be in the lovely heart of the mountains. Loch Lomond is at our back door and the Campsie Fells shelter us from the north wind. The house is very old, of course, but each generation has done something to it in their individual way, contributing to the beauty of the whole. One day you must see it and judge for yourself."

One day, perhaps, Elizabeth thought, if Charles Abercrombie did not turn her down.

The thought of the future head of the Abercrombie family was never very far from her mind, as if some sixth sense warned her that he would be critical of her no matter what kind of impression she tried to make.

When the kettle came to the boil Mrs. Abercrombie made the tea, allowing it to infuse as Elizabeth set out the cups and saucers on the table between them. The sun streaming through the window behind her burnished her red-gold hair to a glowing halo around her head and when she looked up from her task the old lady was smiling.

"You have such beautiful hair, my child," she said spontaneously. "It was my great ambition to have hair like that, and I was as black as a crow! Now I am speckled grey, like an old hen. Que voulez-vous? We must all grow did!"

The luminous eyes under their dark brows belied her statement. She was far from accepting the limitations of age, even at seventy-three.

Elizabeth helped herself to a buttered scone, eyeing the French pastries covetously.

"You're not on a diet?" the old lady asked. "Surely you don't have to be?"

"I haven't seen a real French pastry in years," Elizabeth told her.

"I make them myself," Mrs. Abercrombie confessed with pride. "Just to remind me that I'm a Frenchwoman at heart. I also bake Scotch shortbread, which is very patriotic of me, don't you think? My husband loved it, and he said that nobody baked it quite like me, but that must have been flattery, I think. Was your mother a great baker?"

"She taught me all I know," Elizabeth answered. "We had a book of old recipes, handed down from my grandmother, but I haven't been able to bake much recently. It's so easy to buy things here in Sydney and there isn't much room in our kitchenette."

"You should see the kitchens at Kilchoan," the old lady said, supping her tea. "They are very old, but one could waltz around the table! We have electricity, of course, but we also have a grand old coal oven which bakes the most delicious bread. French bread," she added pointedly.

"Glen Dearg must be a wonderful place," Elizabeth smiled. "You must love it."

"After fifty years of living there it has become part of me, more a part of me than my native France, if I am to tell the truth. But then Scotland and France were always closely united. The Auld Alliance was a very vital thing, you know." Mrs. Abercrombie set down her teacup. "Have you travelled much?" she asked.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"I've never been out of Australia. That's why this job means so much to me," she confessed truthfully.

"Everyone should travel as much as they can. It is the greatest education," her hostess returned. "But if you are to go back to the city as you promised, my dear, we must continue our conversation some other time."

Elizabeth got to her feet, glancing guiltily at the little ormolu clock which adorned the mantelpiece. Time had certainly flown.

"I had no idea it was almost five!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps Mr. Abercrombie won't want to wait till I get to the office. I can call in in the morning or—or phone for your decision."

Mrs. Abercrombie rose to escort her to the door.

"I'm going to phone Jason now," she said. "He'll have my decision before you reach the office. I'll tell him to wait till you arrive."

Elizabeth went down in the lift with her heart full of hope for the future. The job was hers. She felt sure of it because there had been so much kindness in Mrs. Abercrombie's eyes as they had parted and a promise in the way she had spoken about her Scottish home. 'One day you must see it and judge for yourself...'

Her heartbeats quickened as she reached the street. Surely nothing could happen now to defeat her purpose, to cancel out the dreams she had lived with for years. Surely this was the chance she had prayed for, the lucky break which would take her to Scotland far sooner than she had thought possible and in the most congenial of company into the bargain. Even after only two hours in Adele Abercrombie's company she knew that they would get along well together, that they would travel to the other side of the world in each other's company in mutual admiration and respect.

I can hardly wait, she thought. I can hardly wait to go.

CHAPTER TWO

CLIMBING the wide staircase to the Abercrombie office, she passed the staff coming down.

"Mr. Abercrombie?" she asked anxiously. "Mr. Jason Abercrombie?"

A tall girl in a grey coat paused on the stair beside her.

"They're both up, there," she said. "Mr. Jason and Mr. Charles."

"Mr. Charles?" Elizabeth repeated blankly, the smile fading from her lips.

"He came in half an hour ago." The girl gave her an odd look. "You were here this morning, weren't you? One of the applicants for the post?"

Elizabeth nodded, sharply reminded of her competitors for the first time since her meeting with Adele Abercrombie. Of course, there must be others, all eager and willing to go off to Europe with a wealthy old lady as her secretary-companion. Others better qualified than she was,, no doubt.

The girl went on down the staircase to join her companions, casting a final, doubtful glance over her shoulder as she reached the street door. Elizabeth stood hesitating for a moment, half inclined to make her escape because the mere mention of Charles Abercrombie's name had unnerved her for a reason she could not understand, and then, with set lips and her head held unconsciously high, she climbed the remaining flight of stairs and knocked on the door of the outer office.

There was no response from within. After a moment she pushed the door open to find the long outer office deserted, the typists' desks tidied and the covers on their machines. Behind the opaque glass screen at the far end of the room she could hear voices, two people in heated conversation over some issue or other. She approached the glass door, which stood slightly ajar.

"The whole thing is ridiculous." The strong male voice had an edge of authority about it which was unmistakable. "The girl appears to me to be completely unsuitable. She's far too young, for a start, and she has absolutely no experience for the job. The other woman —Mason, I think her name was—would be a better choice."

"She's as old as the hills and twice as hard. I didn't even send her to Rose Bay. Grand'mere would have had a fit!"

With a sense of shock Elizabeth recognised Jason Abercrombie's amused voice. Both men were keeping their tempers, but she knew that they were in earnest Jason was defending her.

"You haven't even met Miss Drummond," he continued. "You're condemning her on age only."

"And her lack of experience." The deep masculine voice was coldly incisive. "According to her letter she's never been out of the country before. It's a logical conclusion that she wants a free trip to Europe, which is no recommendation as far as I can see. I'll admit she appears to be clever enough, using us for her own ends."

"She's a very nice person and Grand'mere likes her," said Jason loyally.

"Don't tell me she's another of Grand'mere's lame ducks!" The second voice was scathing. "We've had several of these in the past, remember, and the result has always been disastrous."

"Wait till you meet her," Jason suggested to Elizabeth's dismay. "She's absolutely charming."

"We're hardly in the market for charm." A tall figure loomed squarely against the opaque oblong of glass, moving towards the communicating door. "I can quite imagine what Miss Drummond looks like from your description and I'm sure she would be a complete liability on this trip. You know that Grand'mere needs a firm hand, otherwise she'll dash off at a tangent and upset everyone's arrangements at the drop of a hat."

"Does it really matter so much?" Jason still sounded half amused. "She's old enough to please herself and I think she's earned her independence. Going off at a tangent now and then isn't such a bad thing."

"So long as it doesn't inconvenience everyone else in her immediate neighbourhood," Charles Abercrombie said.

Elizabeth was quite sure of the other man's identity now. It could be none other than Charles, and she knew, even before they met, that she wasn't going to like him. The way in which he had condemned her out of hand was insufferable.

She was about to turn on her heel and leave when the door in the partition wall was flung open.

Face to face with Charles Abercrombie at last, she could only stare at him incredulously, thinking how like his grandmother he was. There was the same slim height, the same strength of character in the handsome face, and the eyes looking curiously into her angry ones were as deep and penetrating as Adele's.

"Can I help you?" he asked dispassionately, looking beyond her at the empty desks.

"No, not at all!" His forcibly-expressed opinion of her was still ringing in Elizabeth's ears. "I'm the person you think most unsuitable for the position of your grandmother's secretary. You could be right," she rushed on before he could interrupt her, "because I simply refuse to be browbeaten by someone who can prejudge a situation so shamelessly. You had no idea what my real qualifications were, but you condemned me out of hand because I wasn't some middle-aged frump who would suit your purpose no matter what your grandmother thought." She drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm not very old, Mr. Abercrombie, and I haven't travelled very far, but I've been taught to give everyone a fair chance. I liked your grandmother and she liked me, but in the circumstances I wouldn't accept the job if you paid me a fortune to go!"

Charles Abercrombie looked faintly amused.

"That would be most unbusinesslike," he said, in no way affected by her angry onslaught. "I understand my brother has discussed a salary with you. It would seem to me that the whole thing is already settled."

"Without your intervention," Jason said, coming up behind him. "Look here, Charles, I think we both owe Miss Drummond an apology."

"Because she overheard our conversation?" The keen scrutiny did not waver as Charles Abercrombie continued to look at Elizabeth. "That was unfortunate, since we were discussing her application, but I'm not quite sure why we must apologise. I hardly expected Miss Drummond to return so dramatically after office hours."

"If you think I was eavesdropping," Elizabeth flashed, "you're wrong. You were both speaking rather loudly, and I had been asked to come."

"Of course you had," Jason agreed, taking her arm. "You won't go away again, will you, till everything is settled?"

"There can't be anything to settle now." Elizabeth could see her dreams crumbling before the frosty look in Charles Abercrombie's eyes. "I'm obviously not right for the job, as far as your brother is concerned, and his will probably be the final decision."

"You're quite wrong there," Charles Abercrombie said unexpectedly. "I was merely offering advice. My grandmother's wishes will be final and, since you got on so well this afternoon, no doubt you already have the job."

"I couldn't work for you," Elizabeth said unhappily. "I feel that I would never be able to please you however hard I tried."

"At least you're frank—even honest, I expect." The hard mouth quivered in a smile. "You wouldn't be working for-me, Miss Drummond; only for my grandmother. Our meetings would be few and far between, but you understand that I'm naturally concerned about an old lady undertaking such a long journey with an inadequate companion. I had hoped for someone older, an experienced traveller, perhaps."

"If you've found someone to suit you I must be wasting your time." Elizabeth looked at Jason. "Will you thank your grandmother for giving me tea this afternoon?" she added unsteadily. "I left in such a hurry I'm not quite sure whether I thanked her or not."

"You can't go off like this," Jason protested, following her to the door. "Grand'mere wanted to see Charles before she made her final decision. She discusses most things with him, business-wise, anyway, although she doesn't always accept his advice."

"I can imagine," Elizabeth said grimly.

"You'll get to like Charles when you get to know him," he offered.

"I don't think there's much possibility of that, do you?" She turned to face him on the top stair. "You've been very kind, Mr. Abercrombie, and—and I liked your grandmother very much, but I don't think things would work out, somehow. Your brother would never really accept me, and if anything went wrong he would be justified in saying 'I told you so'."

"Not Charles!" Jason said. "He would work out a solution in his own inimitable way. He would be very angry, but he wouldn't show it, and you could be dismissed on the spot."

"I'd rather not find myself half way across the world without a job," Elizabeth told him firmly.

"You needn't worry in that respect," he assured her. "Charles would pay up and see that you got to your agreed destination, even although the whole thing was a terrible inconvenience to him. He wouldn't welsh on a contract once he'd made it."

"I dare say, but I'm sure it would be best not to involve him in the first place," Elizabeth decided.

He stood directly in her path.

"You do want this job, don't you?" he demanded.

"I did—very much." Elizabeth's voice was not as steady as she would have liked it to be. "But I'll have to try again. Before I saw your advertisement I knew I would have to save a lot more money before I could go to Scotland, so I'm really just back to square one."

"We'll work something out," he said, bidding her goodbye on the doorstep. "We'll be in touch."

She had no real hope of the outcome, Elizabeth convinced herself as she walked rapidly away from the scene of her encounter with Charles Abercrombie. She had tried and failed, and it was perhaps ridiculous to feel so bitterly disappointed.

She walked all the way back to the flat, hurrying along the busy city thoroughfares which were thronged with homegoing workers spilling from office blocks and out of shops. Most of the shops were closed now, the traffic slackening a little as she turned into Hyde Park. There was a Hyde Park in London, she thought, but it would be some time before she saw it now.

Sydney was a maze of parks, from the Surry Hills down to the sea, contributing their green lushness to the city's grey. It was a lovely place, a place she would be sorry to leave, yet she would have gone willingly only an hour ago.

Her pace slackened, her feet dragging a little as she grew tired. Jason Abercrombie had been so kind, in contrast to his brother, but she supposed he would have very little say when it came to major decisions within the family. Perhaps she was flattering herself about the importance of the job, however. Charles Abercrombie could so easily decide that it was a minor issue, after all, and not really imperative for the smooth running of Abercrombie and Sons.

A small, foolish hope stirred in her heart until she remembered all she had said to him. She had burned her boats behind her in a big way.

She reached Paddington, at last, turned into Openden Street and hurried towards the flat she had shared with Biba Carrington for the past few weeks. Biba was a designer working for a textile firm on the outskirts of the city and they had become close friends.

"Where cm earth have you been?" she demanded as Elizabeth opened the door. "I was in half a mind to phone the police or the fire brigade or something. I thought you went for the interview at eleven o'clock."

Elizabeth discarded her coat and handbag on the nearest chair. "I did."

"And you've been celebrating? Tell all!"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You jump to the nicest conclusions, Biba, but it hasn't been like that at all," she explained. "I did have lunch with one of the partners—Jason Abercrombie— but I fell foul of his brother in the end."

"What had he to do with it?" Biba demanded from the kitchen where she had gone to start their evening meal.

"He's the senior partner. He has all the say, apparently."

"What about the old lady?"

"She was charming." The look of defeat disappeared from Elizabeth's eyes. "I know we would have got on well. She isn't old at all, just full of enthusiasm for life."

"What went wrong?" Biba came to stand in the communicating doorway. "Where did you slip up?"

"I told Charles Abercrombie exactly what I thought of him."

Biba whistled.

"Did you now? He must have been brandishing an outsize stick to get you as het up as that!"

Elizabeth began to set the table for their meal.

"I hate people to prejudge me," she confessed. "He only saw my paper qualifications, which included my age, of course, and he immediately decided that I was bound to be incompetent."

"Unsuitable for the job," Biba mused. "But you're not You're amply marvellous with elderly ladies."

"I don't think it would have mattered one little bit if I'd been able to convince him of that," Elizabeth declared. "Charles Abercrombie just didn't like me."

"It sounds mutual," Biba observed, "but unfair. After all, I don't suppose you would have seen much of him after you left Sydney."

"He's the big noise at the Scottish end of the business, but—no, I don't suppose I would have got in his way once I had delivered Mrs. Abercrombie to her destination." Suddenly Elizabeth was smiling. "That's all wrong, you know!" she declared. "I'm giving you an absolutely false impression of a very strong and rather endearing character. I wish you'd met her, Biba. She's seventy-three years young, and full of humour. She reminded me of my mother in a good many ways. Nothing would daunt her."

"Except her son Charles."

"He's her grandson."

"As young as that!" Biba's eyebrows shot up. "You really should have been able to cope."

"You didn't meet Charles Abercrombie!"

"Well, that's that! Don't look so devastated," Biba urged. "Something else will turn up."

"This seemed—rather special," Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose I expected too much, everything falling into my lap because it was just what I wanted. It was a wonderful opportunity, and I liked Mrs. Abercrombie very much."

Biba hesitated beside the stove.

"Shall we got out and celebrate the non-event?" she asked, realising how deeply disappointed Elizabeth was by her failure. "We could drown our sorrows in Armand's delicious coffee, if you like."

Elizabeth hesitated.

"Let's just stay here," she suggested. "You've made stracotto, and I love it. I don't think even Armand's coffee would help at the moment."

"I've never seen you so deflated," Biba said, adding tomato puree to the steak.

"I'm sorry it shows so badly," said Elizabeth, smiling determinedly. "By tomorrow I'll have forgotten all about it."

"I'm selfish enough to feel a little glad," Biba confessed, sniffing at the delightful concoction in the pan. "You won't be dashing off to Europe quite so quickly now."

They had got on well together from the start when Elizabeth had answered Biba's advertisement for a flatmate, stipulating that the applicant had to be one hundred per cent Australian. "And finally I chose you," Biba had reflected. "Someone just aching to leave Australia for 'the old country' because her mother had fed her the romantic bit about the heather and the rowans so red on the trees that they could be seen for miles!"

"What will you do now, Liz?" Biba asked when they finally sat down to their meal. "Find another job in Australia?"

"Of course." Elizabeth was determined to put her disappointment behind her. "I'm an efficient secretary, in spite of what Mr. Charles Abercrombie may think. There are plenty of jobs in the papers."

"Don't leave Sydney," Biba begged impulsively. "We have a good life here—and Scotland might not come up to scratch, after all."

Elizabeth smiled.

"It's in my blood," she said. "I'll have to go, sooner or later. It was just that—this seemed to be the golden opportunity waiting for me to accept it with grace."

"And but for this Charles Abercrombie man you would be on your way." Biba put the stracotto on the table between them. "I guess it just wasn't to be, although you seemed to like the old lady."

"I did." Elizabeth passed her plate to be served. "I think it might have been a wonderful friendship. She was a woman of the world, Biba, in the fullest sense of the word. I feel I could have learned a great deal from her if I'd got the job. Jason Abercrombie was so like her, too, but I think Charles would call him irresponsible."

"He seems to manage the Sydney end of the business quite successfully," Biba mused, biting into a round of freshly-buttered French bread. "My firm has quite a lot of contact with them and they never seem to put a foot wrong."

"Charles Abercrombie would see to that," Elizabeth murmured, unable to forget about Jason's brother.

"He does sound a bit of a dragon," Biba acknowledged, laughing. "I can't quite imagine you facing up to him if he was really breathing fire and brimstone. What did you say?"

"Enough to convince him that I was utterly headstrong and a completely unsuitable companion for an unmanageable old lady who's determined to cross the world at intervals until she dies."

"Pity," Biba declared. "I like what you've told me about her, and I hope she isn't going to be fobbed off with a middle-aged matron who'll drive her up the wall before they reach San Francisco."

"I hope not," Elizabeth answered fervently, "It would spoil her trip."

The door bell rang.

"Answer it," said Biba. "I'll dear away the plates."

Elizabeth opened the door. Jason Abercrombie was standing outside in the hallway with an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Hullo!" said he. "I wondered if you would be at home."

Elizabeth drew a deep breath, her surprise registering in her startled eyes.

"I didn't expect you," she told him for want of something better to say.

"You should have done." His infectious smile flashed out. "When one member of the family has been so rude the others try to make up for it." He thrust a large and expensive box of candy into her hands. "Please don't be upset by an office row," he begged. "We often have them when Charles is around."

"Will you come in?" Elizabeth invited, opening the door a little wider. "We've just finished our evening meal."

Biba was hovering in the kitchen doorway, doing her best to recognise their visitor by the sound of his voice. Jason Abercrombie stepped quickly into the hall, almost as if he expected Elizabeth to change her mind about letting him in.

"I hope I haven't rushed you," he said, "but I thought you would have your meal straight away. You had rather a hectic afternoon."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, leading the way into the sitting-room. "Can I give you some coffee? We were just about to have ours."

"That would be fine."

Elizabeth scooped her coat and handbag from the chair to let him sit down.

"I'll see about the coffee," she said.

"Charles Abercrombie?" Biba whispered when she reached the kitchen.

"Heavens, no!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You couldn't expect anyone like Charles to come here post-haste, apologising for his rudeness. It's Jason Abercrombie. Come and meet him."

Biba hung back.

"He can't want to see me," she pointed out. "That's quite evident. I'll make the coffee and bring it in later. Don't bite his head off in the meantime," she advised. "Take time to think."

"What about? As far as I can see he's only come to apologise." Elizabeth put Jason's peace-offering on the table between them. "Leave a few," she suggested. "I've never tasted such expensive candy before."

Biba regarded the box lovingly.

"It would be almost a shame to open it," she murmured.

"You'll manage!" Elizabeth was gaining her second wind. "Give me five minutes," she suggested. "Then you can come in with the coffee."

"Was the sitting-room very untidy?" Biba asked, really quite concerned.

"Not too bad, and I doubt if he's come to inspect my background."

When she returned to the sitting-room Jason Abercrombie was standing before the electric fire examining Biba's collection of glass animals.

"They're a bit frail, aren't they?" he commented. "Do you never break one? The odd leg or tail?"

"They're Biba's," Elizabeth explained. "She takes great care of them. They're almost the only thing she remembers to dust."

"Biba?" he queried.

"My flat-mate. She's making the coffee." Elizabeth paused, waiting for him to announce the real purpose of his visit "Do sit down, Mr. Abercrombie.''

"Jason," he suggested.

She smiled, pulling forward their one comfortable chair. There was a settee piled high with Biba's sewing materials and she sat on one end of it Jason Abercrombie leaned forward in the chair, his hands clasped loosely between his knees.

"I've come to ask you to accept the job," he said. "To go to Scotland with my grandmother."

"But your brother was quite sure of my unsuitability," Elizabeth protested. "How could he possibly have changed his mind so quickly ?"

"In the final analysis Grand'mere won." His eyes were suddenly twinkling, and they were so like the old lady's that Elizabeth found herself relaxing completely. "She always does," Jason declared. "I tried to assure you of that before you upped and told Charles what you thought of him. That was something 1" he grinned. "I guess he was more than surprised."

"At my effrontery? Perhaps I was rather rude," Elizabeth conceded, "but he did manage to rub me up the wrong way."

"It can happen," Jason agreed. "Charles expects perfection most of the time."

"Especially from his employees?"

"From everyone, really. He thinks I don't work hard enough out here, for example, but thank goodness he's too far away most of the time to do anything about it. We get on, more or less, because we are so far apart." He looked her straight in the eye. "Don't let me down," he begged. "I'm depending on you to take Grand'mere to Scotland. Otherwise I shall have to cope with her for another month, and I'm not very good at coping. She's been cramping my style a little," he admitted with a wicked grin. "You see, my grandfather, who founded the company, respected his French wife's business acumen so much that he made her an active director with quite a large say in the running of it, even, here in Sydney. My father came out here to start the Australian branch, but his heart was always in Scotland, at the hub of things. Charles is very like him, by the way. He was dedicated to the company and he knew that Grand'mere was, too. Mind you," he added with a kind of relish, "I don't blame Charles entirely for thinking her irresponsible at times. She's a gay old bird and she likes her own way, especially when she's seized by a sudden impulse. They're generally impulses to do good, to be generous or kind to people for varying reasons, but they can prove embarrassing at times. Charles knows all about them, of course, having lived most of his life at Kilchoan, and he's become wary of the consequences, especially when they affect the business side of his life."

Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"It makes it easier to see his point of view about an older companion," she allowed.

"Grand'mere would have none of her," Jason explained. "She was a forty-five-year-old spinster from Melbourne."

"Who also fancied a free trip to Europe," Elizabeth put in drily. "I don't deny that the idea was attractive to me," she added, "but I was quite prepared to do a good job, to be a useful companion to your grandmother without getting in anyone's way."

He reached over to take her hand.

"Elizabeth," he said, "do this for me. If you don't accept the job I shall have to take Grand'mere as far as San Francisco where Charles could pick her up."

"And you don't want to do that?"

"Not exactly. You see, I've some leave to take and I want to go up on to the Barrier Reef to do some fishing. Grand'mere won't go with just anybody," he added. "Please take her as far as San Francisco, at least."

"And after that?"

"Your air fare will be paid through to London, or Scotland, if you wished, whatever happens. Charles leaves for America tomorrow morning. He has business in San Francisco and New York which will keep him there for two weeks. After that he'll return to Scotland."

Elizabeth hesitated.

"When would your grandmother want to go?" she asked at last.

"Within the next few days, I gather. She wants to call in at Hawaii to visit an old friend on one of the smaller islands. Qantas will arrange everything for us," Jason assured her.

"I haven't quite made up my mind—"

"Please," he said, "make it up now, Elizabeth. You wanted to go. You wanted to, very much," he reminded her.

"I can't deny it…"

"Then don't try !" He glanced up as Biba appeared in the kitchen doorway, jumping up to relieve her of the tray. "Let me take that for you," he offered. "I'm gasping for a cup of coffee."

Elizabeth introduced them, aware that Biba was suitably impressed by their unexpected visitor.

"I've been asking Elizabeth to consider the job as my grandmother's secretary-companion," Jason explained as he found room for the tray on the crowded side table.

Biba glanced at Elizabeth.

"What have you decided?" she asked in a voice which suggested that her friend would be very foolish to refuse anyone like Jason Abercrombie. "It's what you wanted."

They both recognised how eager she had been, Elizabeth thought, and they would consider her mad to refuse now merely because she had crossed swords with Charles Abercrombie. Remembering her interview with Adele, she smiled.

"If your grandmother really wants me to go," she said, "I will."

Jason heaved a sigh of relief.

"She'll be delighted," he declared. "She took a real shine to you, as they say in these parts." He glanced at Biba. "Have you always worked in Sydney?" he asked, apparently deciding that his mission was now fulfilled.

"Always," Biba told him as she poured the coffee. "I was born and bred in Sydney and I wouldn't want to work anywhere else. All the same," she hurried to assure him, "I can quite understand the opposite point of view. Travel broadens the mind, and all that. I do want to travel myself one day, but not just now."

"A heart entanglement, I suppose," Jason suggested. "I can imagine!"

"You're quite wrong," Biba laughed, "I'm an ambitious girl and I have a lot to do here in Sydney. My only involvement at present is with my work."

"How bad for you," he declared. "You should never let business interfere with the social scene."

"Which means you never do?" Biba handed him a cup of coffee. "I can't quite believe that."

"I mix things very well," Jason mused complacently "Business and pleasure. About fifty-fifty, I should think."

"Sugar?" Biba asked.

"Two spoonfuls. I'm a sweet-tooth," Jason admitted, settling back in the chair with a clear intent to stay. "I wonder we haven't met before, Miss Carrington," he added. "Do you sail?"

Biba shook her head, vastly amused by his interest.

"We must remedy that," he suggested, "now we've met" He looked across at Elizabeth, drawing her into the conversation. "We learned to sail at Kilchoan," he informed her. "On the loch, which isn't quite the same as sailing in Sydney Harbour, but it gave us a taste for boats which we've never been able to shake off. The house is on the lochside," he added. "You'll love it."

If I ever make Glen Dearg, Elizabeth thought I'm going off into the blue with the conceivable prospect of being jettisoned by the wayside at Charles Abercrombie's whim.

Jason noticed Biba's record-player and. the conversation quickly turned to music. They spoke about the Opera House and the colossal amount of money it had cost to build.

"I think it was worth every penny," Biba declared. "So does Liz. We've been twice since she came to live here."

"I go as often as I can," Jason told her, a confession which vaguely surprised Elizabeth till he added: "Grand'mere taught us to appreciate the arts, especially music."

"Does your brother patronise the opera?" Biba was obviously curious about Charles.

"Occasionally. He never has much time for relaxation when he visits Australia, though. He's always in a mad rush to return to Scotland."

"Where the heart lies," Biba murmured. "Liz, you should have lots in common when you finally get down to knowing each other."

Jason laughed.

"I hope so," he said. "Meanwhile, all you have to do is to keep Grand'mere on an even keel till she reaches San Francisco on the twenty-second. Don't let her rush off at a tangent. You've got plenty of time to do things leisurely on Hawaii and visit with Henri Duroc if that's what she wants to do, but get to 'Frisco by the twenty-second at all costs. Charles doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"I had no idea we would meet up with him in San Francisco." Elizabeth's voice was full of protest. "I thought we would be flying right through to Scotland."

"Don't pass up a chance to visit Hawaii," Jason laughed. 'You've never really lived till you've basked on the beach at Waikiki."

"I'm a working girl, like Biba," Elizabeth reminded him. "You won't be paying me to sunbathe while your brother is waiting in San Francisco."

"Grand'mere will be paying you," Jason corrected her. "She makes a salient point of her financial independence, but Charles will expect her to be there on time. If you're not, he'll blame you both, even though he knows full well the decision would be Grand'mere's. Play it by ear, Elizabeth," he advised. "You'll win through in the end!"

When he had gone, promising to let his grandmother know her decision as quickly as possible, Elizabeth turned to Biba.

"Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"

"He's quite dishy," Biba reflected, gazing into the mirror above the mantelpiece with a dreamy look in her eyes. "But what an odd name for a Scotsman, though. Jason!"

"It. was probably his grandmother's idea," Elizabeth suggested drily. "I've landed a most unusual job, Biba. I hope I don't live to regret taking it."

"You won't," Biba decided. "The whole Abercrombie family sounds delightful. Even the aggressive Charles."

"You've never met him," Elizabeth pointed out. "You couldn't possibly know."

"He's bound to be a personality with a brother like Jason and a grandmother like Mrs. Abercrombie," Biba decided. "What fun you're going to have!"

Elizabeth's heart was already warming to the idea.

"I can't quite believe I'm actually going," she confessed. "Supposing Mrs. Abercrombie changes her mind?"

"I don't think she will," said Biba. "She'll be as eager as you are to be on her way."

CHAPTER THREE

DURING the next two days they did a lot of shopping together, buying the things Elizabeth would need for the journey and some woollens for the colder climate of Scotland.

"Which I might never need," Elizabeth remarked as she surveyed them on their return to the flat.

"Why not?" Biba demanded.

"I've an odd feeling that I'm going to rub Charles Abercrombie up the wrong way long before we get there."

"Don't be silly!" said Biba. "Besides, he may not wait for his grandmother in San Francisco."

"I hope not!"

"You really don't like him very much, do you?" Biba considered her curiously. "Or is it just—"

"Just what?"

"A love-hate relationship."

Elizabeth gazed at her in astonishment.

"You get some funny ideas, Biba," she admonished.

"Do I? Well, you should know!"

The following afternoon Elizabeth went back to Rose Bay at the request of her employer. Mrs. Abercrombie was sitting out on the balcony busy with a pile of correspondence.

"You could help me with this, my child," she suggested, as if Elizabeth had been her secretary for years. "I leave everything to the last minute, as you can see. Charles considers it deplorable."

"We'll see what we can do," Elizabeth agreed. "Has your grandson left for America?"

"He flew out yesterday, according to schedule. I went to the airport to bid him goodbye, although we'll meet him again In San Francisco. He has business there," Mrs. Abercrombie explained.

"Will you really need me after San Francisco?" Elizabeth asked. "Your grandson could easily take over there."

Adele Abercrombie gazed at her for a moment.

"Certainly I shall need you," she answered. "Yon are to be my companion, are you not? Charles may have to stay in New York, or even come back to Sydney. There are a thousand reasons, quite apart from your secretarial duties, why I might need you," she added abstractedly. "You will see!"

They discussed the journey in greater detail.

"Does your grandson know we're stopping off in Hawaii?" Elizabeth felt compelled to ask.

"Certainly he knows. One has to acquaint Charles with one's every movement in case of an emergency if he is arranging a rendezvous." The old lady sighed. "He has his timetable worked out to the last minute. I Hunk it unimportant at my age, but he is a businessman and we have to conform, you and I," She smiled into Elizabeth's doubtful eyes. "Don't take him so seriously, my child," she added. "He's really not so hard as he likes to make out. Once," she added, "he had a bad experience where a woman was concerned, but I think he is over that now."

"Which means he isn't married?" Elizabeth had been conjuring up an impression of Charles's wife, living back there in Scotland in comparative isolation. while he toured the world with business on his mind. "I thought he might be."

"Unfortunately, no," Adele sighed. "I would like to see him happily settled with the right girl. Living in a Scottish baronial house with an eccentric old woman isn't good enough, although he says it suits him very well. Charles should have young company. We have neighbours at Kilchoan, of course," she added carefully, "but I could wish him to have a wider choice."

They dropped the subject of Charles by some kind of mutual agreement to concentrate on their plans for the journey.

"You'll come here the evening before and stay overnight," Adele suggested. "Jason will collect your heavy luggage and take it to the airport, where we will meet."

'Would you mind very much if my flatmate came to see me off?" Elizabeth asked diffidently. "She's been very kind to me these past few weeks."

"Certainly she must come, in that case," Mrs. Abercrombie agreed. "Jason can see her back to her flat." Her eyes gleamed with interest. "I like to meet my grandsons' friends," she offered truthfully. "Jason calls me a shameless old matchmaker, but I am not offended. It is the custom in France, where I was born, to help along the marriages of one's children, to guide them in a suitable direction."

"Even in those emancipated days?" Elizabeth was surprised.

"It can be done with great tact," her employer answered with a twinkle in her eye. "No young person is willing to be directed nowadays, but a little judicious prompting can go a long way on occasion. I would like to see both my grandsons suitably married before I die."

It was a natural enough desire, Elizabeth thought. The old lady was still the head of the family and responsible for its well-being.

The day before they were due to leave she tidied up the flat and took a last long look at the Sydney skyline. This city which had been home to her for so short a time had wound strong tentacles around her heart, but now she was willing enough to leave it because the dream she had cherished for so long was within her grasp.

As she travelled out to Rose Bay for the last time, her heartbeats quickened at the thought of the adventure which lay before her, of the miles of ocean to be covered before she reached Scotland, and the stops on the way. Hawaii had always been a romantic island to her and now, because of Mrs. Abercrombie's bounty, she was actually going there. The adventure she had undertaken took on a new magnitude, but she would not be travelling it alone. Even after a few brief meetings she knew that Adele Abercrombie would be the perfect companion, and it could work both ways. She would do her best to please the old lady, even if she found it impossible to please her autocratic grandson.

They retired early, Elizabeth tucked up in a little room at the end of the balcony which had once been a child's nursery. There were photographs of children all over the walls: children on the beach with buckets and spades; children water-skiing; little boys on swings, and girls with their dolls smiling self-consciously into the eye of the camera. Adele Abercrombie's friend had reared a large family on a farm on the outskirts of the city, but they had all flown the nest now and were scattered over the length and breadth of Australia. At the moment, Adele said, she was visiting her youngest son in Perth.

They woke early the following morning to a day of blue sky and brilliant sunshine.

"A splendid omen for our journey," Mrs. Abercrombie declared. "One travels so happily when the weather is kind."

They took a taxi to the airport, where Jason was waiting with Elizabeth's luggage. Biba was standing by his side.

"All set?" he asked breezily. "Passports, tickets—everything?"

Elizabeth nodded, indicating the capacious grip she would take into the cabin as hand luggage.

"It's all in order," she assured him. "You know we're spending a few days in Hawaii."

"Lucky you!" Biba breathed.

"Grand'mere does everything in style," Jason smiled. "You'll love the Islands, Elizabeth, especially the lesser-known ones, which are comparatively unspoiled. Oahu has been hopelessly commercialised, but I lived far two months on Maui and it was as if the world was beginning all over again for me." He glanced at his grandmother, who had been listening to him intently. "Grand'mere has good friends there. They'll probably fly over to Oahu to meet you," he concluded.

"I'm hoping so," his grandmother said. "I haven't seen Henri since his wife died. He is my oldest friend."

The bustle of departure was all about them, and Elizabeth clasped Biba's hand as their flight was called.

"I'll miss you," she said. 'Take good care of yourself."

"You, too," returned Biba gruffly. "Send me a postcard whenever you have time."

"I'll write," Elizabeth promised. "Long letters full of news."

"I'm not going to take another flatmate," Biba declared. "I'd never find anyone like you, Liz."

"Come on, you two!" said Jason. "You'll burst into tears in a moment!"

He stood behind Biba as they waved goodbye.

"She's a charming young woman," Mrs. Abercrombie remarked. "I'm glad we've met."

Elizabeth frowned at the thought of Jason, who might unwittingly hurt her friend. In her modern way Biba had always said that she could take care of herself, but once or twice she had looked in Jason's direction as if she was not quite sure what was happening to her down-to-earth, ordinary view of life, and back there in the emptying departure lounge she had seemed to glow. Jason would have a lot to answer for if he led Biba on merely for his own amusement.

Were all the Abercrombie men so obtuse? she wondered, thinking again of Charles.

A cabin steward came to greet them as they boarded the big jet, ushering Mrs. Abercrombie to her favourite seat just ahead of the starboard wing. She seemed to be well known to them, and she fussed a little, as became an old lady anxious about her creature comforts on a long flight.

"Where to this time, ma'am?" the steward enquired, giving Elizabeth an appraising look. "AH the way to Scotland, I expect"

"No, I'm stopping off at Honolulu this trip, Joe, visiting an old friend."

"That will be nice for him," said Joe, settling her in her seat with a rug for her knees and a pillow.

"Qantas takes care of you!" Mrs. Abercrombie murmured as Elizabeth took the seat by her side. "It's their motto and they certainly live up to it"

Another steward passed tissues soaked in eau-de-cologne to cool their face and hands. Although the cabin was air-conditioned it had been warm and sticky outside and they were glad of the fragrant tissues to freshen up.

"Your first flight, miss?" the steward asked Elizabeth. "I hope you'll enjoy it"

"Thank you." Elizabeth turned to her employer as another steward appeared with glasses of pineapple juice. "This is sheer luxury," she declared.

"Everything is meticulously planned for the travellers' comfort," Adele agreed. "You'll find that out by the time we've reached our destination."

Each reference to San Francisco encouraged thoughts of Charles Abercrombie and their first encounter, and Elizabeth could not help wondering if their next meeting would be equally disastrous. To prove that it need not be, she checked and re-checked their itinerary as the jet taxied along the runway ready for take-off.

"Everything in order?" Adele queried, watching out of the corner of her eye. "You surely couldn't have forgotten anything."

"I don't think so. I'd never forgive myself if I had," Elizabeth confessed.

"Because you might have to answer to Charles?" the old lady suggested shrewdly. "My dear child, you mustn't be afraid of him. He is no ogre. On the contrary, he can be extremely agreeable when he wishes to please."

"When everything is going like clockwork," Elizabeth said without thinking. "Oh, I'm sorry.'" she apologised immediately. "I shouldn't have said that. He has every right to expect efficiency. It's just that—we seemed to get off to a rather bad start."

"That can easily be remedied," her employer decided, looking out of the tiny window at her side. "Now we are ready for take-off. If you have any regrets, Miss Drummond, it is much too late."

Elizabeth met her smiling gaze.

"How could I have regrets where you're concerned ?" she said quietly.

The great airliner rose slowly and powerfully into the air, like a giant bird leaving its temporary habitat on earth, and Sydney dropped away beneath them. They went straight out over the ocean, leaving the land behind.

"You know, of course, that we gain a day on this flight," Adele said. "We'll have two Sundays, one after the other."

"Yes, the dateline," Elizabeth agreed. "It's all so new to me, although I've read about it often enough. You must pull me up if I seem to be daydreaming," she added apologetically.

"I sleep most of the way," her companion told her. "The privilege of age!"

She was fast asleep by the time Elizabeth had read the first page of the book she had brought with her to while away the hours, and the book fell to Elizabeth's lap in a few minutes as her eyes and mind were claimed by the miracle of flight.

There was a scarf-like layer of cloud beneath them, like white chiffon floating in the still air, and when it finally disintegrated there was nothing left but the blue ocean far below and the blue dome of the sky above.

Inside the cabin it was warm and bright, with all the flora of Australia depicted on the white panelling by some native artist with the touch of genius on his pen. They absorbed her thoughts for a considerable time, conjuring up memories of a happy childhood when flowers had been her chief delight.

Their little isolated world high in the sky was a busy place, with stewards moving constantly to and fro bringing drinks and food and cigarettes in what seemed like an endless conveyor-belt of activity.

After the second meal-trays had been collected, Elizabeth, too felt inclined to doze. She had read no more than a dozen pages of her book.

They came into Fiji, wandering about the transit lounge for an hour, waiting to re-embark.

"There's lots to see here, I believe," Mrs. Abercrombie remarked speculatively, "but I've not found time to stop off so far. That will be for another day. I'm going to call you Elizabeth, by the way," she added. "Miss Drummond is far too cumbersome."

"I'm glad," Elizabeth responded, wrapping the airline blanket round her knees as they settled into their seats again. "It's more relaxed."

They woke and dozed off again for the remainder of the journey, but when the Islands were almost in view Adele Abercrombie stirred herself to make sure that her companion had a first view of them.

"There are eight islands in all," she explained, "running in a long chain from south to north, more or less. Most of them are volcanic, especially Hawaii in the south, which gives the group its name. We go straight in to the airport on Oahu, which is about midway, but you can see the whole chain as we fly past if we are lucky with the clouds."

Elizabeth pressed eagerly towards the window.

"Change places with me," her employer commanded. "I've seen it all before, many times."

When the cloud lifted and the first island came into view Elizabeth caught her breath.

"They're so tiny!" she exclaimed. "Lying down there in the sun."

She could see the surf breaking around a rocky coastline far beneath them and the dark green of lush vegetation inland.

"That's where Kona coffee is grown," the old lady announced. "And down there is Mauna Loa, the world's largest volcano." Her enchanting laughter rang out "I sound like a Trand Winds Tour guide, I expect, but I love those islands and I want them to be appreciated."

"Please don't stop!" Elizabeth begged. "I'm enjoying every word."

"I do believe you are," Adele smiled. "You are a very honest person, Elizabeth."

Sometimes too honest, Elizabeth mused regretfully, telling people what I think!

They approached Oahu, where the great sprawl of Honolulu lay close to the water's edge and Pearl Harbor snaked its way inland towards a long, serrated chain of mountains which split the island in two. Another range rippled like a jagged backbone on the eastern side, closing in a deep, wide valley which they circled to land.

"I'm glad we've arrived," Mrs. Abercrombie sighed. "It's the best part of any journey, no matter what the poets say!"

The big jet touched down smoothly and they took their leave of the cabin staff who had looked after them so well during the long flight.

"When will you be back again?" the senior steward asked, helping Mrs. Abercrombie down the gangway. "Soon, I hope."

"I am on my way to Scotland," Adele told him.

"Oh, Scotland!" said he. "I was born there."

Elizabeth took her employer's arm as they walked across the tarmac. The sun was dazzlingly bright, standing high above the wide valley between the mountains and the air had a warmth in it that was like a caress. As they approached the departure lounge the doors were opened for them by a smiling Polynesian girl who proffered them a tiny mauve orchid in greeting.

"The girls look much better in their native costumes," Adele remarked. "Those airline skirts and European shirts are most unflattering, as you will see."

Elizabeth was busy pinning the orchid to her lapel, her heart beating high with excitement. This was her first breath of the Islands she had never hoped to see, and it was far beyond her wildest expectation.

"I'll find a taxi while you collect our luggage," Adele said, "and then we will go straight out to the hotel. I expect a message from Henri to be waiting for me there."

They were to stay four nights on the island before flying out again to join Charles Abercrombie in San Francisco on the twenty-second, and to Elizabeth it didn't seem nearly long enough, but it was a wonderful extra bonus as far as she was concerned. It also put the meeting with Charles a little further away.

The taxi wound through the outskirts of the town, away from Pearl Harbor towards the dark bulk of Diamond Head jutting out into Hanauma Bay. Presently it turned along the coast to their destination at Waikiki. The blue sea and the little yachts, the vividly-coloured sails of the catamarans and the long curves of white sand were a revelation to Elizabeth as she gazed from the window, and Adele Abercrombie smiled to herself in a knowing way. Nothing gave her greater pleasure than watching the response of youth to a new experience, and already she had taken this girl to her generous, impulsive heart.

The Hawaiian Village Hotel was large and rambling. Built originally to represent a native village clustered on the beach, it had been added to through the years, yet the heart of the 'village' remained intact.

"Our rooms are adjoining," Adele said. "It will be more convenient that way. I have a dreadful mental block when it comes to remembering room numbers and I frequently lose my key."

An electric lift took them up to the second floor, their luggage following closely behind. Elizabeth was greatly surprised by the sheer luxury of her room, which was really a very elegant suite with a dining section at one end leading on to a wide balcony which overlooked the sea.

Impulsively she rushed to the window, taking in the wide panorama of the beach with its tiny landing-stage and the darkly mysterious bulk of the headland beyond. It was more than she could have wished for in her wildest dreams and she told herself that she would never be able to forget it.

Then, contritely, she turned back to her duties, knocking before she opened the communicating door to her employer's suite. Both rooms were similar: immaculate white spreads covering the beds and a deep, rose-coloured carpet deadening any sound on the floor. A buttoned dralon-covered couch and a comfortable armchair stood in each dining recess, and a wrought-iron table and chairs were grouped on the balcony for outdoor meals.

Mrs. Abercrombie was standing at the tiny desk near her window with a letter in her hand. She looked preoccupied, even sad.

"This must have come yesterday, to await our arrival," she said, her voice full of emotion. "Elizabeth, I fear that I am going to lose my oldest friend. It is from Henri. He is very ill."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Elizabeth crossed to her side. "Can I do anything for you?" she asked, remembering why she was there. "Send a telegram or anything?"

Adele shook her head. For the first time her age was showing."

"I must go to Maui first thing in lie morning," she said.

"How will you travel?"

"There's a light plane connection to the island." Mrs. Abercrombie was plainly concerned for the welfare of her friend. "Henri has a ranch near Spreckelsville—he grows sugar. Someone will meet me at the airstrip."

Elizabeth noted the singular tense.

"You don't want me to. go with you?" she asked.

Adele hesitated.

"It would be best if I went alone, under the circumstances," she decided. "I don't know how ill Henri really is, but if it is serious he may not want too many visitors. Besides, Elizabeth, you must see the Islands now that you are here."

"I'm here to look after you," Elizabeth reminded her.

"You mustn't worry about me. I've been to Maui many times in the past. No harm can possibly come to me, and I'll be with Henri for a little while." There were tears of deep regret in the dark eyes. "It's been a long time—a happy friendship."

They sent a message off to the island as soon as they went down to the reception lounge.

"Henri should have it by midday," Adele said. "And now we must think about you. The day will pass more quickly if you take a trip around the island. Now," she added, seeing the signs of protest in Elizabeth's face, "don't refuse to do as I ask. You couldn't help on Maui and I want you to see as much of Oahu as you can in the short time you will be here. I think you ought to take the Circle Tour, and we must book your seat right away. If we leave it too late you might have very little choice."

Uneasily Elizabeth considered the proposition.

"I don't feel entirely happy about it," she confessed. "I feel I shouldn't be—amusing, myself while you go off to visit a sick friend."

"What could you do if you were with me?" Adele asked. "I will sit by Henri's side and perhaps that will comfort him. Poor Henri! He is so alone."

"Does he still run the plantation?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, no, he has ceased to do that for a very long time. He has a most efficient manager, whom I do trust absolutely. Henri's son should have inherited the plantation, but he was killed in an accident several years ago, and this man has taken over since."

Elizabeth had a pretty shrewd suspicion that the old lady would have more to say about the plantation's management once she got to Maui, and perhaps Henri Duroc had already sought her advice. She was, after all, a competent businesswoman in her own right.

Without further hesitation she booked one of the many sightseeing tours for the following day.

"You can't spend all your time on the beach," she decided. "There are often prowlers around. One hates to think of these things in such a lovely place, but it is one of the sterner facts of life when 'civilisation' takes over. Besides, you will see the real island and fall in love with it, which is what I intended."

Elizabeth insisted on paying for her own trip.

"Be independent if you must," Adele smiled. "I will take your money if it makes you feel better, but really I have more than enough for both of us."

They spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach under a sun-umbrella because Mrs. Abercrombie was still very particular about the effect of sun and a drying wind on her skin.

"Frenchwomen have to be so careful," she explained. "Most of us are born with very sallow skins, which the sun doesn't improve."

"While redheaded Scotswomen have freckles!" Elizabeth laughed.

"That's what you consider yourself," Adele mused. "A good Scot, once removed."

"I can hardly wait to get there," Elizabeth confessed.

They ate a light meal in the restaurant, changing out of their beach clothes into suitable cotton dresses.

"We must turn in early," Adele suggested. "We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"I'D come to the airport with you," Elizabeth offered. "There'll just be time."

"You can't take the risk," her companion decided. "You might find difficulty getting a taxi to bring you back here for the coach. The tour starts from Waikiki, and they will return you to the hotel, so there's no danger of you getting lost."

Elizabeth stood on the balcony of her room few a long time that night, looking out over the hotel garden and listening to the gentle voice of the sea. The kerosene flares which lit the pathways to the beach picked out the couples walking hand-in-hand beneath her, and suddenly she was aware of an overwhelming loneliness. Waikiki! It was a place to come with someone you loved. The very name was synonymous with romance.

The deep red aftermath of sunset had lingered in the sky for a long time, kissing the little waves hurrying to the shore, and somewhere down by the water's edge a guitar sobbed out the compelling song of the Islands, each note the nearest thing to a sigh.

Over on Diamond Head a lei of stars seemed to circle the mountain's brow, while other stars, big and bright and glittering, spanned the arc of the heavens above the bay. A night wind rose to whisper among the palms, and suddenly she closed the window, drawing the white curtains tightly against the encroaching darkness.

CHAPTER FOUR

ELIZABETH slept soundly, no longer disturbed by the haunting music of the guitar or the murmuring of light-kissed waves, but she was awake and out of bed in time to see Mrs. Abercrombie into the taxi which would take her to Honolulu airport.

"I should be back with the evening plane," Adele assured her. "If not, I shall let you know."

An odd fear gripped Elizabeth by the throat.

"I hope you'll be safe," she said.

"My dear child, why not?" her employer exclaimed. "People go out to the islands every day. There are dozens of flights between Honolulu and the smaller resorts. I have done all this before," she added confidently. "It is like taking a bus in London !" She checked on the small bag she carried. "I have everything I need, even for an emergency," she declared, waving goodbye. "Aloha! Have a good day!"

Elizabeth ate a hasty breakfast in the restaurant before she took her place in the orderly queue waiting for the tour limousine. It turned out to be a spacious mini-coach with a sliding roof which could be opened in suitable weather conditions to improve the passengers' view, and it seated ten.

Gradually the queue lengthened and she found herself in conversation with the elderly American couple next to her. They were on holiday, they informed her, to celebrate their silver wedding.

"Twenty-five years, Gloria!" the man said to his wife. "It just doesn't seem like half that time since we were married back there in Albuquerque."

They filed into their places and Elizabeth found herself seated beside another American. He was a fresh-faced young man of about her own age and more than willing to be her guide during the journey.

"I've read all about it in the book," he assured her. "It's the really best tour if you want to see the whole island. I guess it just about takes in everything."

He chattered constantly, while Elizabeth resigned herself to his companionship. All the other members of the tour were couples holidaying together; only she and Ed Bugle—he said that was his name—were alone.

The scenic road over which they travelled was magnificent. It skirted the hollowed-out, volcanic Punchbowl and two gigantic peaks which were the termination of the Koolau Range of mountains and went up the Nuuanu valley where the old missionary houses came into view and the ancient heart of Oahu was exposed for them to see. Ed Bugle was an endless source of information gleaned from extensive reading and he was more than willing to pass on his knowledge to an interested stranger. When they stopped for lunch he took it for granted that they should sit together and plied her with eager questions about her destination.

"I've never been to Scotland," he admitted, "but I've read about it and I would like to go there one of these days. I have a sister living on the west coast, at a place called Holy Loch. She's married to a naval lieutenant. Happy—that's my sister's name—is sure happy to be there!" He laughed uproariously. "You see what I mean?"

"I think so," said Elizabeth.

At Laie they visited the site of the famous Hukilau, walking together to the Mormon temple where the blue sky lay reflected in cool water which was almost as blue. All along their route the serrated tops of the Koolau seared the skyline, tinted mauve in the clear light of the afternoon sun. Elizabeth could have stayed there for ever, but sightseeing tours run to a strict schedule and they were soon back in the coach again, driving north and then west towards Waimea Bay. Here they turned south into an amazing valley flanked by the two great mountain ranges which dominated the island.

Everywhere they looked they could see pineapples stretching in an endless sea, field after field of them until there seemed to be nothing else in the entire world but their bulbous golden shells and their flaunting green crests tossing in the wind.

At the farm where they stopped they were allowed to cut their own fruit, and Ed Bugle chose an enormous one.

"I'll carry yours for you," he offered, shifting his prize from one arm to the other.

Elizabeth laughed. One laughed easily in Ed's company.

"You can get away with one pineapple," she declared, "but two look ridiculous!"

"Say, that sure is funny," he grinned back. "But let me carry it for you, all the same. I've had a great day, Elizabeth. I'll sure be sorry when it's over."

Elizabeth knew that she would be just as sorry as Ed, but for a different reason. All the same, she had quite enjoyed his company and he had done his best to be amusing. He had certainly enlightened her about Hawaiian history and tradition and she tried to thank him.

"It's been a wonderful day, Ed," she acknowledged. "I'm glad we met."

He bought her a bunch of the tiny wild orchids which grew all over the valley hills.

"To remind you of today," he said, pressing them into her hand with a sentimental smile.

They went down the valley and circled Pearl City, coming to the Ocean Highway as the sun went down. When the coach drew up before the hotel it suddenly seemed as if all the warmth and gaiety had gone out of her happy day, for Charles Abercrombie was standing under the canopy, waiting for her.

He watched as the coach emptied, the passengers spilling out on to the wide, paved apron in front of the massive glass doors, gathering their belongings together and lingering in small, ragged groups to say goodbye. Elizabeth and Ed were the last to get out, and she knew Charles would consider the delay deliberate on their part. He stood there watching without a smile, which suggested that he meant to challenge her immediately. Although she walked a few paces behind Ed, her steps lagging a little, he held her reluctant gaze from the moment she left the coach and she knew that he was also looking for his grandmother.

"She isn't with me," she informed him stiltedly as soon as they came abreast. "She went to Maui for the day to visit Monsieur Duroc—he's very ill."

"And you let her go alone?" His voice was as cold as ice.

"It wasn't a case of letting her go," Elizabeth objected. "She insisted I should stay here and see something of Oahu." She gazed after the retreating figure of the American. "Oh! He's gone off with my pineapple—"

"Your pineapple? What in heaven's name do you mean?"

"We had one each and he offered to carry mine when he bought me the orchids." She glanced down at the little posy in her hand.

Charles snorted with impatience, taking her firmly by the arm to lead her through the glass doors.

"I'll buy you another pineapple," he said in the tone which he probably reserved for tiresome children.

"It wouldn't be the same," she protested, loosening his grip on her arm. "I cut this one myself. That was the whole point."

"I see." He was gazing over her head to where Ed had returned to look for her. "When you've said goodbye to your—friend perhaps you'll come into the hotel and fill me in with a few relevant details about my grandmother's whereabouts."

Elizabeth shook hands with Ed.

"You've been so kind," she said, on the verge of tears.

The sudden, unexpected meeting with Charles Abercrombie had unnerved her for a reason which was difficult to explain. She had no idea why he had come to Hawaii, but he had certainly found her at a disadvantage.

Pulling her shaken thoughts together, she smoothed the red hair back from her forehead as she went into the foyer. Why should he make her feel uncomfortable or even at fault? She had obeyed her employer's command, even if it had been reluctantly, and he had really no right to interfere.

Charles had found her a seat in a small, secluded alcove, but he was able to make her feel childish and immature as she set the prickly pineapple on the table between them.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"We had a light lunch at Heeia," she told him. "I'm not in the least hungry."

He glanced at his watch, waiting for her to continue.

"Your grandmother left for Maui early this morning," she explained. "It seemed best that she should go alone when her old friend was so ill. She promised to be back with the evening plane unless there was a message from her to the contrary."

He got to his feet.

"I'll check," he said abruptly. "Reception could only tell me that you'd both gone out early this morning, presumably together, but that was two hours ago."

She had kept him cooling his heels in the foyer for two whole hours, Elizabeth thought, following his progress towards the desk. Unforgivable!

He returned with a dip of paper in his hand.

"This has just arrived," he said, frowning. "It was handed in at Spreckelsville early this afternoon. My grandmother couldn't make the plane. Henri Duroc must be seriously ill." He was still reading the message.

"She shows a deep concern for you."

"When will she get back?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Possibly tomorrow."

"This must be most inconvenient for you," she suggested, "if you wanted to see her. You're a very busy person."

He smiled at the description.

"I take time off occasionally, especially if I've been held up on a schedule," he informed her. "What did worry me was the fact that you were not together on the tour. Anything could have happened. Grand'mere won't admit it, but she's no longer a young woman able to fend entirely for herself. When she takes off into the blue like this there could be complications, though at the present moment she appears to be safe enough."

Elizabeth stared at him incredulously.

"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

"You're really quite human," she said without thinking. "You really are concerned about your grandmother."

He laughed abruptly.

"So that's what you thought?" he said. "I had a fair idea after your initial outburst in Sydney, but it's nice to know that you can reverse your opinion on occasion. Shall we have something to eat in about an hour's time?" he asked. "You'll probably feel hungry after you've washed and changed."

She could hardly believe that he was inviting her to share a meal with him.

"Why did you come?" she asked.

He considered the point for a moment.

"Because I was stranded in New York with nothing to do," he decided. "My business contact will meet me in San Francisco instead."

It had been a matter of convenience, after all, Elizabeth reflected as she picked up the pineapple and fled towards the lift. He would stay in the hotel now until the morning, meeting his grandmother off the plane, and go away again as fast as he could.

Gazing at her dishevelled reflection in the bathroom mirror, she ceased to wonder why he had suggested that she should wash and change. The wind had played havoc with her hair and a scattering of golden freckles bridged her nose, called out by the sun. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin moist and she looked vulnerably young.

What she needed most was a relaxing shower and time to consider the odd turn of events which had thrust her into Charles Abercrombie's company so unexpectedly.

He needn't have asked her to dine with him, of course. He could have ignored her once he had seen her installed in the hotel and had been assured of his grandmother's safety.

When she had washed and dressed she selected two small orchids from the posy Ed Bugle had given her, putting the others into water before she turned back to the mirror. The girl she saw reflected there was very much different from the windswept creature who had rushed towards the lift with a pineapple clutched to her breast an hour ago. The long pale green linen dress flattered her . colouring, and when she had pinned the little orchids to the low-cut neckline she knew that she needed no other adornment.

The eyes looking back at her from the mirror were suddenly shining. Wherever Charles decided to take her she would make the most of the experience. After all, it wasn't every evening that one dined romantically under a Hawaiian moon!

Charles was waiting in the foyer when she went down, and her heart gave a quick lurch of surprise as she looked at him. He wore the conventional white dinner jacket and black evening trousers of the tropics, but after that was acknowledged he was in a class of his own. Tall and straight and lean, he drew the discerning eye as he walked towards her. She had never seen him looking like this before.

Don't fall in love with him, she thought; it would just be another disaster!

"I've booked a table in the Tapa Room," he informed her. "It's convenient, and I thought you might like to see a Hawaiian floor show."

"I'd love it," Elizabeth assured him. "But what about you? You must have seen it all before."

"I have to eat," he shrugged. "However, for your peace of mind, I haven't been to the Tapa Room before. I haven't, as a matter of fact, been to Waikiki at all."

"So it's going to be the first time for you, too," Elizabeth smiled. "I'm glad."

"It might be interesting to hear why."

She looked confused. No one had ever made her explain her impulses before.

"Because it's always much better when you're sharing an experience for the first time, when you're doing things with someone who is really enjoying himself," she decided. "I'd hate to think that it was a—sort of duty."

He laughed as he. led her across the foyer.

"Let's start with something to drink," he suggested.

They consulted the colourful list together. It was lavishly illustrated and Elizabeth took a long time over her choice.

"What's a Tropical Itch, for goodness' sake?" she wanted to know.

"It looks as if it had a backscratcher in it!" He gave the exotic drink his full attention for a moment while she studied the dark lines of his face in profile. "I think I would stick to a banana daiquiri, if I were you."

Elizabeth returned to her study of the drinks.

"I'm going to have a Wahine's Delight," she decided, "because it has an orchid in it."

He looked at her with amusement.

"You're still a child," he said.

"I'm young enough to feel excited by a new experience," she confessed.

"Were you looking for romance this afternoon?" He glanced down at the two mauve orchids pinned to her dress. "With the gallant American?"

"That would have been ridiculous!" Her cheeks were flushed with indignation at the suggestion. "We'd only just met."

"I thought that was how these things happened."

"I wouldn't know," she returned stiffly. "I don't fall in love with every new man I meet."

"I thought you and Jason got on very well."

"Your brother? Of course, he's charming, but—"

"Why do you hesitate?"

"Because I really know nothing about your brother."

"He was more than anxious to let you have the job," he pointed out.

"And you weren't." The old animosity was building up between them. "You thought I wasn't competent enough and I've more or less proved it to you today, I suppose. I should have gone to Maui with your grandmother, no matter what she said. I should have looked after her."

"But instead you're here with me." He made room for the waiter to put their drinks on the table. "We'll have to accept the position, I'm afraid, since there's no alternative."

Elizabeth sipped her Wahine's Delight, feeling it cool and fresh against her palate, tasting of lemon and rum. The tiny blush-pink orchid she placed on the side of her plate.

"Aren't you going to wear it?" he asked. "Or does it clash too violently with the American offering?"

"No," she said sharply. "I mean to keep it, of course."

He lifted the tiny flower as they rose from the table, stooping to pin it in her dress. It was a gesture so foreign to her conception of him that she drew back in surprise, but he completed the little service with a determination which was typical of him. His hand touched her bare flesh for an instant, sending a sensation of fire through her from head to foot. This time it was Charles who drew back.

"I'm sorry," he said.

They made their way towards the restaurant. The Tapa Room was small and intimate, its lighting subdued, the stage at one end ready for the twice-nightly cabaret show.

"I believe it's something quite special," Charles remarked as they were shown to their table. "We can at least hope that the food is good."

Elizabeth's pulses began to race with a new excitement, her eyes glowing as she studied the menu.

"I'm going to be madly adventurous and try something local," she declared. "How about you?"

"It seems fitting," he agreed. "They're bound to do it better than fish and chips."

She laughed. Charles could evidently unbend when he liked and, after all, there was nothing they could do about being thrown together in the circumstances.

If he resented the fact, he certainly didn't show it once he had given their order and they had settled down to enjoy the meal.

When the cabaret began he moved his chair round to her side of the table for a better view. They were very near, their arms touching.

"I'm going to enjoy this," said Elizabeth.

A line of graceful Polynesian girls glided on to the stage, each one as lovely as the next, their willowy bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music as their bare feet moved across the floor. They were dressed in long floating chiffon skirts with leis of tiny mauve orchids about their necks and a bracelet of orchids on one arm. This wasn't hula, Elizabeth realised; it was something far more subtle, a native dance whose origin went back into the mists of time.

"Watch their hands," Charles advised. "They say so much with them. My grandmother, who comes here often, knows the language of these movements. believe they mostly depict natural phenomena—the movement of waves, the wind in the palms, the sun rising on a bright morning to start another day."

The dancers, their long dark hair floating out behind them, their skirts drifting from side to side, circled the stage, their small, delicate hands pressed close against their breasts.

"What do they say now?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Something about love, I think—that love is the finest gift of all." His tone was sceptical.

"You know their language!"

"My grandmother translates at the drop of a hat," he answered. "I've heard about Hawaii since I was a child, and I've been to Maui."

The dance had ended with the girls clustered on the floor, their skirts spread around them to give the effect of a delicate tropical flower. It was sheer poetry of motion, exquisite beauty simply presented for the joy of the beholder.

The female entertainer who followed was a large, buxom Polynesian woman in the traditional printed muu-muu who stood regarding her audience for several minutes with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"I hope she isn't going to attempt the hula," Charles said. "It would be too much !"

"I bet she could, when she was younger," Elizabeth whispered back.

"What's the matter, honey?" The wicked black eyes were glinting straight down at Elizabeth. "Is he trying to lead you astray?"

There was general laughter, which confused Elizabeth until Charles put his arm lightly about her shoulders.

"It's all in the act," he declared. "A good opening gambit."

The large woman was a polished artist.

"Once, a long time ago," Charles said, "I saw Hilo Hattie doing her act in Hawaii, It was like this one. She was a wonderful performer, and although she must have been twelve stone or more she ended up dancing the hula as skilfully as any of the chorus girls."

"I'll be disappointed if I don't see the hula," Elizabeth confessed.

"You will." His arm slid away from the back of her chair, the kindly gesture of protection apparently forgotten. "It's a feature of all cabaret out here. People expect it and the management obliges. It will probably be kept for the final act."

When the drums began to beat out the rhythm of the hula and the dancers filed back in grass skirts and three-layered leis with coronets of flowers in their hair Elizabeth sat forward in her seat, her lips parted a little, her cheeks gently flushed. It was a wonderful experience, the rhythm mounting to a crescendo as the dance finished and the smiling dancers moved to the front of the stage.

Under cover of the thunderous applause Charles leaned towards her.

"Had enough?" he asked.

Her eyes were full of regret as she looked at him.

"Is it all over?" she asked, faintly disappointed.

"I'm afraid so, unless you can go on eating for another three hours till the second show comes on at midnight."

She rose reluctantly as he signed to the waiter to bring the silk shawl she had worn over her sleeveless dress. It was nine o'clock, early by Hawaiian standards, but her wonderful evening had come to an end. Silently she walked' from the restaurant by Charles's side.

"Is there anything else you would like to do?"

The question was so unexpected that Elizabeth could only answer it truthfully.

"I'd like to walk by the sea," she said. "But you would hate that, wouldn't you," she added quickly. "You would think it foolishly romantic."

He took her by the arm.

"Since you can't walk around the beach on your own, there isn't an answer to that," he said. "What sort of shoes are you wearing?"

"Inadequate ones, with fairly high heels, but I can take them off and walk in my bare feet," Elizabeth offered.

"Like a little girl."

The comparison struck a chill note, since it was probably how he had always thought of her—young and inexperienced.

"Perhaps we ought to be thinking about your grandmother," she suggested. "Deciding what we should do in the morning if she doesn't return."

"The morning will be time enough to make decisions," he said. "Give me your shoes to carry."

The paved way through the hotel gardens had ended on the beach where the sand was thick and soft underfoot, and she kicked off her silver-thonged sandals with a feeling of relief. Charles picked them up by the heel straps.

"They're lethal," he said. "It's a wonder you don't break your neck in them."

"I don't often walk on sand."

"It will be firmer nearer the tideline," he promised. "Come and see!"

He held out his hand and she took it almost reluctantly. A man like Charles Abercrombie spelled danger.

The kerosene flares which lit the hotel pathways were soon behind them, but there was the light of a full moon on the bay to guide them towards the water. Turning their backs on Diamond Head, they walked towards the yacht basin where the tide lapped gently against the rows of enamelled hulls as the sloops and ketches and the ubiquitous catamarans huddled together in the moonlight.

"All this must be very far removed from Scotland," Elizabeth remarked.

"Very—weatherwise," he admitted, "but I dare say one would eventually grow tired of ever-blue skies and a blistering sun. Hawaii is a wonderful playground, but I doubt if I would be able to work here indefinitely."

"You're almost impatient to get home," she suggested, aware of a restlessness in him which she had noticed before. "All your responsibilities must be there, of course."

Her words fell into a lengthening silence. Charles was looking at the sea, at the palms and the moon-blanched sand, but his thoughts were far away. They had taken wing to the land of his birth, to another scene where the view was wilder and the breath of the northern wind was stern and cold. For several minutes he did not speak, gazing back in retrospect to the problems he had left behind him in distant Glen Dearg, in a house called Kilchoan. She could see his expression in the bright light of the tropical moon, the sterner set of his jaw and the hardness about his mouth, but he made no effort to answer the half-formed question which had so obviously disturbed him.

He must think me presumptuous, Elizabeth told herself, sorry now that she had ever framed the words. After all, I have no right to probe into this man's private affairs.

They walked back towards the hotel along the edge of the bay where the tide murmured against the wet sand. What wind there was scarcely ruffled the tops of the palms and the stillness all around them was a new magic which Elizabeth savoured to the full. It would be easy enough to fall in love in a place like this. Too easy, perhaps.

When they reached the garden path Charles handed over her shoes.

"I won't put them on," she decided. "It's been glorious walking without diem."

He was watching her closely, seeing the flush on her cheeks and the pleasure in her eyes, but he did not call her childish again.

"A drink?" he suggested. "A quick nightcap before you go to sleep."

"If we could have it out here."

He smiled.

"Your desire is a command in Hawaii!"

He came back with the two glasses on a tray, her Wahine's Delight and a darker potion which he said was called Mai Tai and meant 'out of this world'.

"And is it?" she asked, sitting down at a table beneath the palms.

"More or less." He turned the glass in his hands. "Occasionally we have to make the effort."

"To get away?"

"Occasionally," he said.

She could not believe that he was running away from the past, or even the future. He was too strong for that.

"Tell me about Scotland," she suggested. "About your part of it."

"What do you want to know?"

"Nothing specifically. How you live, what you do when you're not busy working in Glasgow."

He stiffened.

"I 'work in Glasgow', as you put it, most of the time."

"But—Glen Dearg. Your grandmother said it was a beautiful place."

"We're all very fond of Kilchoan, naturally," he answered slowly, "but I spend less and less of my time there nowadays. The estate is run by a manager— grieves we call them in Scotland—who is only answerable to me on major issues of policy. Grand'mere, too, keeps an eagle eye on things, so you can imagine that we're well administered." His lips relaxed in a smile.

"She's a wonderful person," Elizabeth agreed. "In this short time I feel that I've come to know her very well. I hope she isn't too upset by Monsieur Duroc's illness."

"We will find out tomorrow." He stood looking down at her from his tall height, a half-mysterious figure in the shadow of the palms. "In case we have to go there you'd better be up early."

"To Maui?"

He nodded.

"Anything can happen when my grandmother decides to go off on her own."

Elizabeth finished her drink and got slowly to her feet. Her wonderful evening was over. There would be no more whispering palms or drinks in a secluded garden under a tropical moon. She heaved a sigh of regret as she turned away.

"Hauoli?" he said, looking down at her. "Are you happy?"

The question brought sudden, foolish tears to her eyes.

"Yes," she said. "I'll never be so happy again."

"How do you know that?" he demanded sternly. "Your life is just beginning."

She turned towards him.

"How old are you, Charles?" she asked.

"Older than you by several years and far more experienced." He followed her through the foyer to the lift. "I'm twenty-seven—twenty-eight on my next birthday. How's that for a reasonable advantage?"

"It isn't much of an age-gap, and besides, age doesn't mean an awful lot."

His face darkened.

"It confers responsibility," he said. "You may see what I mean one day."

She looked at him with a sudden plea in her eyes.

"If we do have to go to Maui tomorrow," she asked, "can we go in the spirit of today? It will be so much easier if there are no recriminations."

He smiled at her temerity.

"You ask too many questions, Elizabeth," he told her. "But why not?" He bent and took the orchid from her bosom, the one which had decorated her first Wahine's Delight. "A souvenir, if you like," he said, putting it in his buttonhole. "The reminder of a promise. No recriminations!"

Elizabeth went up in the lift in a happy dream. Tomorrow was another day.

CHAPTER FIVE

IN the morning the sun was still shining although there was a pearl grey mist clinging to the mountainsides as they drove to the airport It was early and the mist would vanish with the strengthening sun, but it chilled the air a little as they waited for the Maui plane.

It came in exactly to schedule, the half-dozen passengers filing off with their hand-luggage to be met with an orchid and a smile. Mrs. Abercrombie was not among them.

Charles turned to the reception desk, but there was no message for them.

"Your grandmother would send it to the hotel," Elizabeth suggested. "Is there another plane?"

He shook his head.

"If she hasn't come on this one there must be something wrong," he said.

"Would you like me to take a taxi back to the hotel in case there's been a message?" Elizabeth asked.

He shook his head.

"There wouldn't be any point, and we'd be wasting time. I had half a notion we'd have to go across." He looked round the busy lounge. "Stay where you are," he commanded. "I have to make some arrangements."

Did he think she would wander away merely to confuse the issue? Their day was starting badly.

Worrying about his grandmother was certainly Charles's main preoccupation, however. When he came back he told her that he had chartered a light aircraft to take them to Maui.

"I've a feeling she's in trouble," he said.

"Oh, I hope not!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Surely nothing could have happened to her when she's with friends."

"Nothing physical," he allowed. "I wasn't thinking of that. My grandmother has a cast-iron constitution which will serve her for a long time. I was thinking of involvement."

"Lame ducks," Elizabeth murmured. "You thought I might be another one even before you met me," she reminded him.

"It was an unfortunate figure of speech in your case," he admitted, "but there are others. My grandmother looks on her friends' misfortunes as peculiarly her own."

"Which is one way of saying that she cares about people."

He nodded abruptly, not willing to continue the argument.

"The plane's on the runway," he said. "If you're ready, we'll go."

They went out into the sunshine together.

"I wish we had some sort of message," Elizabeth said. "We might have been able to do something at this end."

"It's no distance to the island," he told her. "Are you warm enough?"

She had a little woollen coat over her arm which she had brought because of the mist.

"I don't think I'll need it," she said.

He helped her into the small inter-island plane which seemed very tiny standing on its own in a corner of the vast airfield, and the pilot got in beside them. He was a short, sturdily-built man in his late thirties with a weatherbeaten face which suggested that he had spent most of his life in the tropics, and he gave them a bright, friendly smile as he welcomed them aboard.

"Ever been to Maui before?" he asked conversationally. "It's a wonderful island," he went on before either of them could answer, "but, for my money, there's nothing like Hawaii itself. There's life there, and all the tradition you could possibly want. Are you after photographs? I could fly over Molokai and Lanai, if you're keen to see the waterfalls. Just say the word."

"We'd like to go direct to Maui by the shortest possible route," Charles told him. "We're not photographers."

The pilot looked disenchanted.

"Well now, here's me thinking you were a honeymoon pair!" he laughed. "But maybe next time! There's nothing keeping you from looking at the scenery, though."

Elizabeth was gazing down at what was to be seen of Diamond Head, realising that Charles was deeply absorbed in his own thoughts. They were leaving Oahu behind and the great mass of the headland lay beneath them, the same but different. From the air they could see directly into the heart of the mountain, deep down into the volcanic depth of it, and it was suddenly frightening. The friendly Diamond Head of their moonlit preamble along the beach stood revealed, in daylight, as a cruel and treacherous place of deep defiles and cavities burnished almost blood-red in the morning sun, a place of mystery and terror with all the secrets of the ages buried in its hidden fire. Dark scrolls of lava scarred its sides, running down to the blue ocean where the waves broke and curled on a rock-girt shore.

Suddenly they were beyond the island, however, and the sun was shining on the sea. There were two other islands on their route before they came to Maui, but the pilot flew between them, bearing Charles's instructions in mind. They saw nothing of Molokai but dark mountain cliffs with the ocean breaking at their feet and rainbow waterfalls pouring down their sides. Lanai, the pineapple isle, was momentarily lost in mist.

They came in to Kaarnarali, landing smoothly and expertly on the airstrip where a hire-car was waiting for them. Once again there was a volcano rearing its conical head in the background.

"Haleakala," the pilot announced for their benefit. "The House of the Sun!"

Spreckelsville dominated the wide valley between the extinct volcano and the northern mountains, and beyond it mile upon mile of sugar-cane lay in the sun. The whole wide valley was lush with cane and the white ranch houses which dotted it were a planter's dream.

"Henri Duroc came here from France in the early part of the century," Charles explained. "It's been his home ever since."

"Did he marry a Frenchwoman?" Elizabeth asked, eager to hear the history of the plantation.

Charles hesitated.

"He did, in the end. Before he came out here he wanted to marry my grandmother," he said. "They were brought up in the same part of France and it was more or less expected of them," he added with a faint smile, "but she met my grandfather in Paris and that was that." He gave his attention to the scenery for a moment "She's never forgotten her youth, but I don't think she ever regretted her marriage. She made something rather special of it, you see."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, "I can imagine that"

"My grandfather was her constant companion till he died," Charles went on, "respecting her opinion and aware of her loyalty above everything else. Although my father's death must have been a great shock to her, she carried on where he had left off, determined that one day another Abercrombie would sit in her place."

"You and Jason," Elizabeth said.

He nodded.

"It's a simple enough story when you come to think of it," he concluded, "but as far as we're concerned it's unique. We hope there'll always be someone to carry on the Abercrombie name."

A son, Elizabeth thought, although neither of them was married. Perhaps Charles wanted that above all else, and it was quite natural, especially in a man who was justifiably proud of his lineage and the endeavour which had gone into the establishment of a prosperous shipping line.

They travelled through miles of cane fields, but there was little activity on the land.

"Something has gone wrong," Charles said.

When they reached the ranch house it was curiously still, yet Elizabeth had an odd sensation of being watched. Dark eyes with all the laughter gone out of them seemed to peer from every bush and, suddenly, there was the sound of a distant drum.

"I wonder what that means," said Charles.

The Polynesian driver brought the hire-car to a standstill before the ranch door, his face gravely concerned.

"You come at a bad time, sir," he offered. "The master is very sick."

A small, squat figure emerged from the house, her head covered by a dark scarf. She looked at them and turned away. Charles went towards the door across a broad verandah overhung with scarlet flowers, and suddenly his grandmother was standing there.

"Charles!" she exclaimed with the utmost relief in her voice. "How did you know?"

He took her into his arms, already guessing the truth.

"What went wrong?" he asked gently.

"He died early this morning. He died in my arms." She allowed him to hold her for a moment or two, resting her head on his shoulder for comfort. "I think he knew," she said, "and he wanted me to be here. My old and trusted friend!" Her eyes sought the distant outline of Haleakala. "He wanted to be buried here."

"When?" Charles asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Will you stay?"

She shook her head.

"I have done all I can do for him," she said. "His own people will bury him. I have complete faith in John Kapala. He has been a good manager, and Henri may even have left him the plantation, for all I know. The lawyer will come over from Honolulu in the morning." She turned to Elizabeth. "I'm very sorry about this, my child, giving you so much trouble, but it was something I had to do for an old friend. I had to stay with him in his hour of need."

"You mustn't worry at all about me," Elizabeth assured her. "Your message came through all right, although it was after Charles arrived."

A cart piled high with garlands of flowers came slowly along the carriageway, followed by a silent line of estate workers, Polynesians and Fijians mourning together over their loss. A tall, handsome man in a striped shirt and well-pressed jeans detached himself from the throng and came towards them, taking off his straw hat to acknowledge Elizabeth.

"This is John Kapala," Mrs. Abercrombie introduced them. "John, my companion, Miss Drummond, and my grandson from Scotland."

Gravely the Polynesian manager shook hands.

"You come at a time of sorrow," he said, "when we mourn a kind master."

He was a strong, powerful-looking man with immensely broad shoulders and a mane of thick, dark hair, but he had the trusting eyes of a child. He gazed at Charles, whom he remembered as a boy.

"We've met before, Mr. Kapala," Charles said. "You taught me to fish."

"I wondered if you would remember," said John, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. "Will you fish again, perhaps?"

"Not this time," said Charles. "I must get home to Scotland and get on with the task of sailing ships, but one day—who knows?"

"It is always best to make it today," John Kapala smiled. "You will return, of course," he added as a matter of fact. "Haleakala will call you back."

A meal was prepared for them which they shared with John on the creeper-covered verandah overlooking the estate. The fields which Henri Duroc had owned stretched on either side of them for as far as the eye could see, and beyond them dark mountains plunged to the ocean with only a narrow strip of land between. The trade winds blew across the valley and the sun shone above it, making it lush and fertile for the growing of sugar-cane, but how would it fare now that Henri Duroc had gone?

The lawyer from Honolulu would discuss that in the morning, reading Henri's will, but meanwhile the fate of two hundred plantation workers hung perilously in the balance.

"Whatever Henri has done he will have provided for them," Adele said as they prepared to leave. "John Kapala must have been in his confidence to that extent, at least"

The estate manager provided a car to take them to the airstrip.

"I am sorry you could not wait," he said, "but all will be done according to the master's wishes. You can be sure of that"

"I am sure, John," Mrs. Abercrombie said. "I'll be in touch with you, because I think you will be at Spreckelsville for a long, long time."

There were tears in John's eyes as they said goodbye.

"Come often," he invited, "if I am still here."

"Henri has provided for them," Adele told Charles as they boarded the plane. "How, he would not tell me, but I am sure it will be generously."

They flew back to Oahu as the sun dipped towards the western horizon, throwing long shadows against the mountainsides and on to the sea. In the half light all the rich background of legend and tradition that was Hawaii seemed to come alive, lingering from the older, primitive Hawaii, land of kings and conquest and strange, imaginative gods. Elizabeth knew that she was never likely to see it again. She was coming to the end of a wonderful adventure, made possible by the woman who sat by her side, but even before they reached San Francisco her task might be over. With Charles here to look after his grandmother for the remainder of the journey to Scotland her companionship might no longer be necessary.

She looked round at Adele Abercrombie, seeing the lines etched about her mouth and at the corners of her eyes. The old lady was showing her age for the first time.

"I feel quite tired," she confessed when they finally reached the hotel. "I want to do nothing but sleep."

Elizabeth went up in the lift with her.

"Rest for a while," she advised, "and then perhaps you'll feel like coming down to dinner."

Adele shook her head.

"I'm going to have something sent up," she decided. "Something light. That little Polynesian girl will attend to me, and then I shall take two of my very effective pills and sleep and sleep until the morning."

Charles agreed with her plan.

"She's probably been up all night," he said.

"I'll sit with her," Elizabeth offered.

But Adele would have none of it.

"You and Charles must dine together in a civilised manner," she declared. "You mustn't worry about me. I shall be coddled and pampered by Luana and her sister as only Polynesian women know how, so off you go and dress. I shall simply be unconscious to the world from eight o'clock onwards."

Charles half expected the command. It had taken Elizabeth a long time to pass on his grandmother's suggestion and he recognised her reluctance.

"Would you rather not come?" he asked abruptly.

"So long as we don't go too far away," she suggested.

"It's a sticky night. I was going to take you both out on a catamaran."

"I'd love that," said Elizabeth, "but how long would it take?"

"Two hours."

She went to look in on her employer to make absolutely sure that she could do nothing more for her.

Adele was sound asleep, guarded by the two Polynesian girls who were willing to sit by her side all night, if need be.

"We'll risk it," Charles decided when she reported to him. "It's as hot as an oven in the restaurant, in spite of the air-conditioning."

They sailed into the blaze of colour which was the aftermath of the tropical sunset, cruising along Waikiki's glittering coastline in the big twin-hulled catamaran which was patterned on the fast, ocean-going vessels of ancient Polynesia, A little wind crept out of the distance to fan their heated brows and little, secret waves whispered against the twin hulls. A sadness for which she could not account descended on Elizabeth, but Charles seemed content. They sat on one forepeak watching the sky turning from vermilion through orange and yellow to a hazy mauve which lay along the horizon till the first stars shone out.

A special okolehao punch was served to them on deck by a smiling steward, and presently they went below to share a lavish meal with the five other passengers taking the cruise. They were all pleasant Americans spending a well-earned holiday in the way they thought best, and for three of them, at least, it appeared to be the experience of a lifetime.

On deck again, Charles sat with his arm along the rail, shielding Elizabeth from the persistent little night wind which had sprung up while they were below. It had a sting in its breath, Elizabeth thought, like the chill of parting.

"You're suddenly very quiet," Charles remarked.

"I was thinking about yesterday—and today," she answered truthfully. "And perhaps I was also thinking about tomorrow. I don't want this to come to an end, although I know it has to, like most dreams."

"You've been trying to convince me that you weren't a dreamer ever since we met," he pointed out lazily. "I was to consider you practical and as hard as flint."

"Wasn't that what you wanted?"

"I thought it the best possible protection for my impractical grandmother."

"You're very fond of her."

He smiled in the starlight.

"Who wouldn't be? She can be exasperating at times, but she makes up for it in a thousand different ways, and she's extremely generous if she thinks someone needs her help. She can also be hopelessly pigheaded, of course," he added, "when she considers she is doing something for the best. Grand'mere with a Cause is the most daunting thing one can come up against."

"She's the most delightful person I've ever known," Elizabeth said generously. "You must be very proud of her."

"I wouldn't want her to know that," Charles laughed. "She would take immediate advantage of the fact."

He seemed a different person now, relaxed and happy as they sailed back to Waikiki. Two great stars hung over Diamond Head, glittering in the blue dome of heaven as they waited for the moon, and Elizabeth turned her face up to them, thinking how often she would remember this moment in the weeks to come.

Charles moved beside her and suddenly she was in his arms. Their , lips met in a long, lingering kiss which blotted out the sky and the stars and the sea for one moment of ecstasy, while the bitter little wind fretted in the rigging above their heads to no avail.

Charles was first to draw away.

"We're almost there," he said harshly, looking beyond her. "Almost back to reality."

The catamaran was approaching the shore and the landing-stage from which it had set sail two hours ago, and all along the beach the harsh kerosene flares on their long black poles marked the pathways to the hotel and the end of their day. 'Back to reality', Charles had called it, and reality for him could be complete forgetfulness. "Their romantic cruise could be nothing more than an interlude in a busy work schedule as far as he was concerned, something to be swiftly forgotten and put behind him because it had been meaningless.

Elizabeth stiffened at the thought, accepting his guiding hand as she negotiated the gangplank and felt her feet sinking into the soft, warm sand where she had gone barefooted in his company only the night before. It seemed two thousand years ago, but it was only really a kiss away.

They walked slowly under the trees in the light of the flares till they reached the hotel.

"A nightcap?" he asked conventionally.

She shook her head.

"I must go up to your grandmother. Thank you, Charles, for a wonderful evening."

Her voice had been anything but steady, and she ran from him before he could reply.

Adele Abercrombie's room was dim and quiet when she reached it and Luana tiptoed across the floor to ensure her that all was well.

"She sleeps sound, like a baby," she smiled. "She is very, very tired."

"Thank you, Luana," Elizabeth whispered. "I'll take over now. I'm just in the next room," she explained.

She left the communicating door ajar, hearing the Polynesian girl's soft footfall as she went away along the corridor to her own quarters. It was almost midnight, but sleep was far from her thoughts. For a long time she stood out on her balcony watching the stars, seeing the rising moon reflected on the bay and feeling the bitter little wind against her cheek.

"Oh, Charles!" she whispered into the darkness of the garden, "what have you done, making me love you when there's something in your eyes which tells me that love means nothing to you?"

CHAPTER SIX

WITH two days of bargaining ahead of him, Charles left for San Francisco the following morning.

"I'm on a tight schedule now," he told Elizabeth as they stood in the foyer of the hotel waiting for the taxi he had ordered. "I must be in New York by the weekend, so I can't afford to be held up in 'Frisco. See that my grandmother gets to the airport in time and doesn't go off on a tangent for a reason best known to herself. I'm relying on you," he added firmly.

Adele came rushing up to wish him bon voyage in a breathless manner which suggested that she must have been hurrying.

"We'll see you in 'Frisco, Charles," she assured him. "I'm quite looking forward to a short stay at the Drake. It's many years since I've been there, as you know."

"It hasn't changed much," he assured her with a smile. "Au revoir, Grand'mere!" He stopped to kiss her on the cheek. "Take care of yourself."

He held Elizabeth's hand for a brief moment at parting, and foolishly she wanted to cling on to it, to keep him beside her for ever.

When he had gone she took Adele by the arm.

"You must have letters to write," she suggested. "Shall we work this morning? I don't seem to be earning my salary as a secretary."

"You're doing very well as my companion," Adele told her, "but there is some correspondence to attend to. Perhaps we ought to work while it's cool and go for a drive later. Or we might have a small shopping spree!" She searched in her white patent shoulder-bag. "I must change some money into American dollars, and then we won't have to waste time doing it in 'Frisco, where the shops are really grand."

Smiling at her enthusiasm, Elizabeth went with her to change her Australian currency into American.

"I don't know about New York," Adele said. "I don't think we'll be there very long, and the Fifth Avenue shops are away beyond my means. New York isn't what it was," she decided firmly. "I used to walk in the Park without the slightest hesitation, for hours at a time, and now they tell me one daren't go there alone, even in broad daylight."

"There's no need for you to go alone." Said without thinking, but at the back of her mind Elizabeth had the uncomfortable feeling that she might never see Fifth Avenue or Central Park. If anything went wrong before they reached San Francisco Charles would be justified in sacking her on the spot.

The thought chilled her, making her keep a weather eye open for each movement her employer made in case Mrs. Abercrombie might decide on some scheme of her own which would be put into practice immediately.

They wrote letters all morning, chiefly to friends of Henri Duroc, acquainting them of his death on Maui and Adele's sadness at his passing. In one letter to a mutual friend in Paris she wrote that 'Henri was part of my youth, my childhood companion, and so a small part of me has gone with him'.

"We must not dwell on it too much," she told Elizabeth when the letters were finished. "Henri had a full and successful life and he lived to a ripe old age with no serious illness to endure. This is what we must be thankful for every day of our lives. Now," she added briskly, the subject finally closed, "we will have a very light lunch and drive into Honolulu afterwards to shop. I have several gifts to buy to take back to Glen Dearg to my little 'family'. Jenny, for example, would never forgive me if I didn't bring her some trinket from Hawaii." She hesitated. "Jenny and her sister live near Kilchoan," she explained. "Natalie runs a riding school, but Jenny still suffers from the result of an accident." A look of pain crossed her face as she remembered the past. "It happened three years ago. We were all very much involved. Jenny is a dear creature," she added with a smile, "but Natalie distresses me. She's far too introspective to be really likeable. I've tried and failed with her so many times."

Another 'lame duck', Elizabeth thought, remembering Charles's remark about his grandmother's protégées.

"It worries me considerably," Adele went on. "I don't want to see Charles's chances of ultimate happiness clouded by an old memory." She sighed deeply. "It's rather a sad story, Elizabeth, but I won't burden you with the details now."

Anything which concerned Charles was of interest to Elizabeth, but she could not say so. She had to store every reference to him in her heart without asking too many questions.

They ate their lunch at a table in the garden overlooking the ocean, a light, refreshing meal of sea-food and a wonderful concoction of pineapple which Mrs. Abercrombie insisted that Elizabeth should sample.

"Are you going to lie down for an hour?" Elizabeth asked, remembering the rigours of the previous day and her employer's advancing years.

"Indeed not! I never do," Adele declared. "It is a waste of time to sleep during the day when there is so much that has to be done." She patted Elizabeth's arm. "Run up and bring me a light wrap. I always wear something over my shoulders when the sun is strong."

"You'll stay where you are till I get back?"

"Of course, ma chere! I may even put my feet up, just to please you," Adele smiled, suiting the action to the word by stretching out on the lounger where they had relaxed with their coffee.

Elizabeth went swiftly up to their rooms to collect a chiffon scarf and her own wide-brimmed hat which she had brought on the trip to Pineapple Valley.

How far away that seemed, she thought, going back down in the lift, years and years ago if she measured it by experience.

When she reached the garden her employer was sitting up on the lounger talking to a stranger. He was a tall man, obviously American, with a serious expression and a bulging briefcase under one arm. They were deep in conversation and Mrs. Abercrombie looked disturbed.

"Mr. Ballour has stopped off here on his way to Maui," she explained as Elizabeth joined them. "He is Henri's lawyer."

The tall man shook Elizabeth by the hand.

"Glad to know you," he said automatically. "We won't keep you waiting very long." He glanced towards the adjacent table. "I have a few business items to discuss with Mrs. Abercrombie. Can I get you something to drink?"

"We have just finished lunch," Elizabeth told him, withdrawing to the convenient empty table to busy herself with the money she had changed that morning.

She now had fifty American dollars to spend while she remained in the United States and she decided that would be sufficient to tide her over any small emergency. If she was to be dismissed in San Francisco she would be flying from there direct to England, with only a brief transit stop in New York.

Her eyes clouded with a vague disappointment, although she tried to remind herself that it had been a possibility right from the start No one had promised her a lifetime of service to Mrs. Abercrombie, this amazing old lady with whom she had fallen in love.

She lay in the sun, wondering if any stranger experience could have befallen her. Here she was on a Hawaiian island, living for a brief interlude a life she could hardly have imagined because an old lady had decided that she needed her companionship. She knew quite well that she would never have been employed by the Abercrombies but for the firm decision of Adele in the Rose Bay flat when Charles had objected to her so strongly because of her youthful inexperience.

Nothing had changed, she supposed. The dinner in the Tapa Room and a romantic cruise in a catamaran by moonlight were far behind them now, events in the past which he would never think about again. And that kiss? It had been an impulse of the night, a gesture to romance which any man might have made in the circumstances.

Shaken by the thought, she turned to find the lawyer taking his leave of Adele. He had deposited some of the papers from his briefcase in her lap and he shook her hand firmly as they said goodbye.

"You can leave everything to me," he assured her. "There's absolutely no need for you to make the journey back to Maui at the present time."

"Everything is in Mr. Kapala's hands," Adele told him. "Since he is to continue as manager I have nothing to worry about. One -day I shall return, Mr. Ballour. I feel it in my bones."

"I will be happy to meet with you," the lawyer told her. "Good day, Mrs. Abercrombie. Goodbye, Miss Drummond," he added, turning towards Elizabeth.

Adele Abercrombie sat very still after he had gone.

"Elizabeth," she said, at last, "I'm sorry. It looks as if our shopping spree is going to be curtailed."

"What has happened?" Elizabeth asked, sitting down beside her. "Is something wrong?"

Adele's eyes were moist with tears as she turned towards her.

"I have some—business to attend to," she said quietly. "Some documents to sign which Mr. Ballour would like to have before we leave tomorrow. Will you bring a pen and writing-paper, please? Henri has left the Maui plantation to me for my lifetime. After that it will go to John Kapala, who will manage it in the meantime."

She had been utterly surprised and greatly affected by her old friend's generosity, and there was no doubt that she loved Maui almost as much as she loved Glen Dearg.

"How kind of him," said Elizabeth. "But you knew him for a very long time."

"All my life." Adele looked down at the documents in her hand. "It was a true friendship. I believe I would have married Henri if Douglas Abercrombie hadn't come along to sweep me off my feet in Paris and make me the happiest woman in Scotland for the rest of our time together. Our marriage was a partnership in every sense of the word. We even thought alike. Ah, there were arguments—cela va sans dire—-but we were always adult enough to iron them out in a satisfactory way. Douglas founded Abercrombie's, you know, and I have worked hard to preserve the ideal he had when he first began. Our employees are our shareholders and they do very well if the firm does well. Most of them appreciate the fact, I think."

"What will you do about Maui?" Elizabeth asked. "About the plantation?"

"Leave it very much as it is. It will be a sort of memorial to Henri. Of course, it must pay its way," said the practical Adele, "but John Kapala will see to that. Nothing will change, as far as he is concerned, until I die, and then the estate which he has worked to preserve will be his. He has a charming Fijian wife and five children, so he deserves to have a stake in the island for the future."

"It sounds like another partnership," Elizabeth smiled as she went to find the writing material.

They disposed of the documents for the lawyer plus several business letters by three o'clock.

"We'll take a taxi into the city and drop these at Mr. Balfour's office," Adele suggested. "Then we may be able to do some of our shopping, after all."

The smiling Polynesian boy who drove the taxi dropped them at the Civic Centre, waiting hopefully for further business.

"I take you to see Manoa Valley?" he offered. "Many beautiful homes there and beautiful flowers. You like orchids and anthuriums, maybe? You like to buy some? You have tea in Tea Room and see Robert Louis Stevenson's grass shack? Very proper place where he lived once. You go to National Memorial Cemetery at Punchbowl? Big view of city there!" He smiled engagingly.

"Please don't let us go too far," Elizabeth begged as her employer gave the suggestions her earnest consideration.

"You see only Throne Room in United States at Iolani Palace?" the exuberant driver rushed on. "Very beautiful; very old."

"We'll settle for Robert Louis Stevenson and a cup of tea," Adele decided, propelling a half-reluctant Elizabeth back into the taxi. "Allons! We can't possibly get lost," she added. "You do worry a lot about what Charles might think, don't you?"

"I made him a promise before he left."

"And what did you promise?" Adele's eyes were alight with interest.

"Not to keep him waiting, not to hold him up in San Francisco when he ought to be in New York."

"Why should we do that? Everything runs quite smoothly on a Qantas flight, I can assure you. They think of everything," Adele declared. "No, you needn't worry about getting to San Francisco on time—or New York either," she added thoughtfully.

Perhaps she was over-anxious, Elizabeth acknowledged, allowing herself to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

At the Waioli Tea Room they sat in the shade for half an hour before going on to visit the historical grass shack where Stevenson had written his books.

"How different it must have looked in those days," Adele murmured. "Yet it isn't really so long ago, is it? The city has swallowed everything up in a very short time, as cities invariably do."

They took the waiting taxi back to the Centre, where Adele did a little shopping and finally decided that it was time to return to the hotel.

"We'll have a meal in the restaurant and then we can walk by the sea," she suggested. "I'd like to do that on my last evening at Waikiki."

They walked to the yacht basin and back, along the same path which Elizabeth had taken with Charles, and every step was a memory. Somehow, she wished that they had chosen some other way because Diamond Head and the bright stars over it were too poignant a reminder of that other walk within sight and sound of the ocean when Charles had been by her side.

Remembering her final promise to him, she paused when they came level with the hotel.

"As you wish!" Adele smiled. "We will go to bed just in case we oversleep in the morning and miss the plane!"

They had an early call the following morning and sat over a leisurely breakfast till their taxi was announced.

"Charles attended to the bill before he left," Adele announced, "so we have nothing to settle up. There's only one letter to John Kapala which I want him to have as soon as possible, but I can post it at the airport. It will go direct from there."

Elizabeth checked their luggage as it was brought down in the lift and put into the taxi.

"Seven pieces," she reported. "That was all, wasn't it?"

"My white grip!" Adele remembered. "I left it with my coat beside the bed."

"It's here," Elizabeth assured her. "Nothing has been forgotten."

"You're most efficient, Elizabeth," Adele said. "I've come to depend on you now."

"I'm glad." Elizabeth helped her into the taxi. "It's what I'm here fear."

They reached the airport with the best part of an hour to spare, checked in, and went to drink a refreshing glass of pineapple juice at the restaurant bar. The great international airport was a hive of activity, with ground staff and passengers hurrying in all directions and flights taking off at regular intervals while they waited.

"A point!" exclaimed Adele. "I have remembered John's letter and he really must have it without delay. Will you drop it in the mail-box for me, Elizabeth? It is already stamped." She produced the forgotten letter from her capacious shoulder-bag.

Elizabeth glanced at the Departures indicator, but there was plenty of time before their flight.

"Give it to me," she said, heaving a sigh. "Do you know where the post-box is?"

"There is bound to be one around somewhere," Adele assured her. "Over there, next to Information. You can leave your coat with me."

Elizabeth laid her travelling coat on the chair beside her.

"I'll only be a couple of minutes," she told her.

She found the mailing-box at the far end of lie lounge and made her way back through the crowd, feeling that all was now well. They had attended to everything.

When she looked for Mrs. Abercrombie she had gone.

The chair Adele had vacated was now occupied by a well-dressed, middle-aged Polynesian woman who was obviously waiting for one of the inter-island planes and had no connection with Mrs. Abercrombie at all.

Elizabeth's heart sank as she began a frantic search of the lounge. Where could Grand'mere have gone to? The Ladies? Her lips were firmly set as she reached the door, but the Ladies' Room was completely neglected. Time was ticking past and a tight lump of fear formed in Elizabeth's throat as she continued her search. Supposing something really serious had happened? Supposing the old lady had been taken ill and had been whipped away to hospital?

That was ridiculous, she assured herself in the next breath. It couldn't have happened in the short space of her absence, and in any case she would have seen the commotion even from the far side of the lounge. No, Grand'mere had just 'gone off', as Charles had warned her.

Charles! She thought of him in sudden panic. If they missed their flight he would hold her completely responsible. She had given him her solemn promise before he left, knowing how important it was to him, and at the last minute she had failed. The very last minute.

"Oh, Grand'mere, where are you?" she murmured desperately. "Why on earth couldn't you stay put for such a short, important time?"

A wave of exasperation washed over her. It really was annoying, she thought, although anger would get her nowhere. She continual her search between the groups of passengers and their friends gathering for the flight to San Francisco, but there was no sign of the familiar figure in the long grey travelling cloak nor any sign of their hand-luggage. It was as if they had never come to Honolulu together, as if the past four days had been nothing more than a pleasant dream.

By the time their flight number was called she was almost frantic. A small queue began to form at the glass doors, there were final embraces and friends stood back. Desperately Elizabeth turned to search again. The lounge was almost empty and Mrs. Abercrombie was coming towards her with a pile of little parcels in her arms. A smiling shop assistant followed with Elizabeth's coat and their hand-luggage.

"Ah, there you are, Elizabeth!" the old lady exclaimed, as if Elizabeth was the one who had been at fault. "I had forgotten Jenny's present," she explained. "It was no use taking her something from 'Frisco when: she knew I had been in Hawaii. I got her one of those funny little charm bracelets made from Island beans.

They all have a meaning, you know," she chattered on, "and it's the sort of thing Jenny likes. A bauble, really, but it will please her. She is such a child at heart."

Elizabeth was speechless, relief and exasperation struggling for expression as she relieved the Polynesian girl of their belongings and took Adele firmly by the arm.

"Do you know that we've nearly missed the plane?" she said severely. "I wish you'd told me where you were going."

"I didn't think of Jenny's present until after you had gone with the letter. That's the trouble with old age," Mrs. Abercrombie reflected. "One forgets things. I shouldn't be like that, of course. I've always had a very alert mind, and I do remember important details quite clearly. It's the little, seemingly unimportant matters which sometimes escape me, like a name occasionally, or where I have put something for safe keeping and then can't find it because it was too well hidden!" She produced her passport "Is anything the matter, Elizabeth?" she asked. "You look cross."

Elizabeth swallowed her exasperation.

"I'm very glad I don't have to tell Charles that you disappeared," she confessed.

"But I heard the flight announcement, and there is really plenty of time," Adele objected. "You worry too much about what Charles will think."

"I gave him my solemn promise to look after you and he made it quite clear that he would hold me responsible for getting you to San Francisco," Elizabeth pointed out "It's quite reasonable few him to expect me to do my job properly."

"You do, indeed! I'm completely satisfied with you," Adele told her. "You mustn't think I do those foolish things on purpose, Elizabeth, just to prove my independence. It isn't that It's just that I'm inclined to act on impulse occasionally because, for a very long time, I had no one to consult-but myself."

"I think I understand," said Elizabeth.

"I'm sure you do. Charles leads a very ordered life," Adele remarked, "but sometimes I think he takes his responsibilities a little too seriously. It is a Scottish trait," she sighed, "but I do not try to change him too much. He has a tremendous love for Abercrombie's, and so have I. We would both sacrifice a great deal for it, perhaps even our own ultimate happiness."

It was something Elizabeth already believed about Charles, the preoccupation with business affairs which had caused him to frown on her in the beginning, but there had been the other Charles, the one who had spoken gently about Scotland and taken her sailing on a moonlit sea.

When they were safely installed in the big jet, with their coats on the racks above their heads and their light luggage at their feet, she was able to relax.

"What else did you buy?" she asked.

"One or two things, while I had the opportunity."

Elizabeth let that pass.

"All presents?"

"Nearly all." Mrs. Abercrombie selected a small package from her collection. "This is for you," she said. "I thought you would like to have it to remind you of Waikiki."

As if she needed a reminder! Elizabeth took the package, wondering what it could possibly contain.

"It's the same as Jenny's," Adele told her helpfully. "You can open it now, if you like."

Quite obviously she was going to be disappointed if her gift wasn't appreciated.

They fastened their seat-belts, supervised by a kindly steward.

"I hope you will like it," said Mrs. Abercrombie.

"I'm sure I shall. It's—very generous of you."

"Nonsense! I hope I shall always be able to buy little gifts for my friends," Adele declared. "It gives me the utmost pleasure, so it is a very selfish impulse, really!"

The box was sift-wrapped in the delightful American way, with a tiny mauve orchid tucked behind the seal to show that it had come from the Islands. Elizabeth pinned it into her lapel with the two she had been given on departure, while Mrs. Abercrombie sat waiting for her verdict on her present.

Elizabeth took the bracelet from its box, holding it up delightedly. A selection of the peculiar little native beans was suspended on a slender gold chain, each one different from its neighbour, each carrying its own particular charm. There were two big round ones, and two highly-polished grey ones; one that looked like a sickle moon, and a large, pear-shaped one with deep veins on it almost like a human heart. The others were in little groups of three, small red beans and prickly beans, like miniature pineapples, and they jangled cheerfully as she clasped the bracelet round her wrist.

"That one is for happiness," Adele told her, indicating one of the beans. "Take care that you do not lose it. The round smooth grey one is the one that will bring you back to Hawaii!"

On my way home to Australia, Elizabeth thought, after all my wonderful adventure is over!

"Do you really believe in those Island legends?" she asked, fingering the crescent-shaped bean.

"Certainly I do! Otherwise, why have them?" Adele laughed. "If they do nothing more than bring you back to Hawaii and ensure your happiness for the rest of your life aren't they worth a bit of belief?'

"You're incorrigible, but thank you for my bracelet, all the same," Elizabeth smiled. "Have you bought anything for yourself?"

Adele shook her head.

"Self-given presents are not very exciting," she declared. "I have one for Charles and one for Natalie, who is very difficult to please, I'm afraid. One could hardly offer her a charm bracelet."

"She sounds—very practical."

Mrs. Abercrombie considered the suggestion for a moment.

"I suppose that might be the correct word to use," she allowed. "She is also very determined."

"I think you said she was Jenny's sister."

"Her older sister, by several years. Quite astonishingly she allowed me to take her under my wing when I assumed responsibility for Jenny."

"What have you bought Charles?" Elizabeth asked, feeling that they had discussed the Hodge asters for long enough. "A tie?"

"I never make such a mistake!" Adele declared. "Charles is most conservative about his neckwear, and you know what the average American tie looks like."

"I've seen some very modest ones."

"Well, I decided not to risk it." Adele smoothed the gift wrapping on her final parcel. "It's a silk shirt, a very plain, good shirt incapable of offending anyone." She laid the unopened package aside. "Now, what have you bought?" she demanded.

"Very little," Elizabeth confessed. "I—haven't anyone to take presents to. Not in Scotland, anyway."

There was a short pause.

"What are your plans once you get there?" Adele asked after due consideration.

"To see as much of the country as possible until my money runs out"

"And afterwards?"

"I may take a job. I will have to apply for a work permit, of course, but perhaps that wouldn't be too difficult"

"Would you work in Scotland?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit up.

"I can't think of anything I would like better," she answered.

"A la bonne heure!" Mrs. Abercrombie relaxed in her seat "Did you bring a book to read?" she asked. "I'm half way through something or other."

"Shall I look for it in your grip?" Elizabeth offered.

"If you wouldn't mind."

It was a comfortable flight, with meals punctuating their spells of reading or just day-dreaming, as the spirit moved them.

"Some people are bored by flying, but I never feel that way," Adele remarked. "How can one be 'bored' when there is so much left to do in the world and so much to see? Charles says people who are easily bored are their own worst enemies."

"He seems to lead a full and exciting life," Elizabeth murmured.

"Full, certainly," his grandmother agreed. "Sometimes, lately, I have felt that his only excitement must be work. That is why I was so glad to see him at Waikiki," she added. "He really enjoyed these two days."

"Perhaps he'll go more often now that you have the sugar plantation to look after," Elizabeth suggested.

"He knows I have a competent manager in John Kapala," Adele said, ''but it is a nice stop-off on the way to Australia." She looked out of the window. "I wonder if he will be at the airport to meet us."

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath at the prospect of seeing Charles again so soon, believing that she needed more time to adjust to this final meeting.

She had' no doubt that it would be final because, from San Francisco on, he could look after his grandmother himself. They would have no further use for her services and the gift Mrs. Abercrombie had bought for her at Honolulu seemed to accentuate the fact. It was a parting gift, a small token from Adele herself to say 'thank you' for the few services she had rendered.

Her fingers closed tightly over the bracelet as they touched down at San Francisco. Tomorrow, she thought, it will all be over and I'll be on my own again with the second half of my journey still before me.

There was no sign of Charles.

"He didn't actually promise," Adele pointed out. "We are all booked in at the Drake, so we had better hire a taxi and get there by ourselves. No doubt he is very busy with a client."

The drive towards the city kept Elizabeth's thoughts busy until they reached the hotel. There seemed to be water everywhere, with breathtaking vistas of hills to the east and north, and the great span of the Golden Gate standing in an orange glow against the sky.

"This is the most wonderful city in America," Adele declared with conviction. "It has so much character one could never grow tired of it. I rode in a cable-car here on my honeymoon, up to Nob Hill and across all the junctions and down again into Chinatown! At night, when the lights are lit, it sparkles like a gigantic galaxy, rivalling the stars themselves. At the Top o' the Mark or on the Starlite Roof at the Drake it looks as if lights and stars had all come together for one great, happy reunion."

They drove up to the Sir Francis Drake, where the doorman ushered them up a flight of wide, carpeted stairs to the reception hall at the top, and here Charles was waiting for them.

"I've just come in," he said. "I thought it best not to attempt the airport in case I couldn't make it before your flight got in." He looked beyond his grandmother to where Elizabeth stood, her heart hammering against her ribs as if she had been running. "Apparently there were no emergencies."

"Oh, but there was!" Adele told him gaily. "I ran off to shop at Honolulu while Elizabeth was posting a letter to John Kapala."

He frowned.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth apologised. "It worked out all right in the end, as you see."

"I don't know why everyone appears to be so concerned about what I may do next," Adele complained. "I am really quite a rational sort of person when left to myself."

Charles took her by the arm.

"You'll have a new jailer from now on," he informed her. "I'm going straight back to Scotland with you."

Elizabeth's heart sank. It was exactly as she had feared. The Drake was to be the parting of their ways. If she wanted to stay in San Francisco for a day or two's sightseeing she would be at liberty to do so, of course. She would have no one to please but herself.

"Charles," said Adele, depositing her hand-luggage on the nearest table, "I want Elizabeth to travel to Scotland with us."

Elizabeth could almost feel the silence which followed. Charles's back was turned, but it seemed to exude his displeasure.

"Now that I'm here I suppose I ought to see something of the countryside," she offered awkwardly, trying to ease the sudden tension in the atmosphere. "A day or two—"

Mrs. Abercrombie put a restraining hand on her forearm.

"We'll show you what we can in the time we have," she promised. "Charles, how busy are you going to be for the next two days? We ought to take her to see the redwoods, and there's that lake I went to—not Lake Tahoe, the other one where there's more room to move —and she should go to Monterey and Santa Rosa and the Donner Pass."

Charles turned to look at them. His face was grey.

"I had no idea this was going to turn into a sightseeing tour," he said harshly. "You have three days. After that, I must insist you come to New York."

"Bien entendu!" Adele agreed. "We can do so much in three whole days. I thought you might have been able to join us. I thought most of your business deals had been completed."

He hesitated.

"I had planned to take you to Portland to see the MacKenzies," he said.

"They are in Scotland on holiday, or I would have jumped at the chance," Adele told him. "Elizabeth would just love Oregon and all those great mountains up there in the north!"

Elizabeth knew that she had not been included in Charles's plans for the visit to Portland. He had thought of her as expendable once they had reached San Francisco.

He turned back to the reception desk.

"I don't think we should make any further plans," said Elizabeth, looking regretfully into Adele's smiling eyes. "You have no further need of me now that—your grandson can take you home."

"My dear child," said Adele firmly, "I have even more need of you than before. What do you think I am going to do with myself while Charles talks business with a boardroom full of men who can think of nothing but ships and shipping? He knows how restless I become when I have to sit still and wait, so I'm a little surprised that he isn't more grateful to you for being available."

"So long as you're not just—sorry for me perhaps I can forget about Charles," Elizabeth said.

Mrs. Abercrombie gave her a long, searching look.

"Sorry for you?" she repeated. "Good gracious, Elizabeth, the only regret I have is that we didn't meet earlier."

It was impossible to feel despondent in such exuberant company, and Elizabeth decided to ignore Charles. Certainly to ignore his displeasure.

They were all booked in at the Drake, so she could not avoid him entirely, but she could try to keep out of his way.

Meals would be the difficult issue, she realised, especially an evening meal. They were allocated a window table in the restaurant, set for three.

"I promised Elizabeth the Starlite Roof," Adele said as she took up her menu. "I'll book a table for tomorrow evening, Charles. Your business commitments surely can't include a working dinner."

"No," he was forced to agree, waiting for them to make their choice. "A working breakfast or working lunch is bad enough. You needn't worry about booking a table at the Roof," he added with a faint smile. "I've already done that."

"How kind!" Adele murmured. "You think of everything, mon cher. It will be like did times for me, and Elizabeth will be able to share it."

A glow of pleasure lit Elizabeth's eyes.

"I've heard so much about California," she said, "and especially San Francisco, but I can hardly believe I'm actually here. It's probably the speed of flight which makes it all so breathtaking," she added, looking across the white tablecloth into Charles disinterested eyes. "I suppose it's hard for you to understand how I feel, travelling abroad for the first time, but I do appreciate the fact that I am here with your grandmother and not on my own. It makes a difference."

"Certain, it does,", said Adele, backing her up. "But Charles is so self-reliant these days he tends to forget. Come, Charles! you must remember what it felt like to travel for the first time," she chided gently. "You were so full of gusto you could hardly wait for the plane to take off!"

He smiled at the recollection.

"It was a long time ago," he said, yet some of the tension seemed to have gone out of him and Elizabeth felt glad.

The following day he hired a car to take them to see the spectacular trees around Oakwood while he stayed on in the city for a business lunch.

"Abercrombie's means so much to him," Adele sighed, "but I hope he will not make it his whole life, as his father did after Vera died. Vera was my daughter-in-law," she went on to explain. "Charles's mother. We were the greatest of friends."

She directed the hire-car driver to take diem to Monterey where the great Pacific, rollers broke on the sand and the dunes blazed with a carpet of mauve and yellow flowers, stretching for miles.

"If you've read Steinbeck," said Adele, "this is where it all happened, but further bade still there was Stevenson. How that man got around when travelling wasn't so easy? I wish we had time to do the Mission Chain," she added. "Perhaps—"

"No—please!" Elizabeth protested, smiling. "No more elaborate plans on my account. I'm more than satisfied with what I've already seen. In fact, I'm not quite sure that I can absorb it all, and we did promise to be back for dinner."

They left the ocean and the sea of purple ice plants behind, taking the road back to San Francisco where Charles was waiting. He looked more relaxed and he certainly seemed pleased with his day's endeavour.

"Everything is working out to schedule," he told them. "After tomorrow we can be on our way."

Elizabeth would not allow herself to think about tomorrow, enthralled as she was with today. They went up in the lift to the Starlite Roof.

They were a perfectly ordinary little party, she supposed, eating what might be taken for a celebration dinner in a popular night spot, an old lady with the glow of candlelight softening the lines on her face, and a young girl with the light of love in her eyes. And Charles? Did he recognise that light, thinking how foolish she was, how utterly impressionable on her first journey away from Australia? She told herself that she did not care, looking back into his shadowed eyes with pleasure in her own.

The Starlite Roof seemed part of the sky itself, the service was immaculate, and the view across the glowing city streets was the stuff of which memories are made. No matter how irritated he might feel by her unwanted presence, Charles turned out to be the perfect host, and when his grandmother said that she was ready to go to bed 'full of excellent food and good intentions', he took her down in the lift to the second floor.

"Go back and finish your brandy," she told him imperiously, "and take Elizabeth with you. She was half way through her coffee when I pulled you away."

"Really," Elizabeth heard herself protesting, "I don't mind turning in early. Today has given me so much to think about."

"It's only ten o'clock," said Adele. "You can't possibly want to go to bed at this hour at your age. Ask Charles to tell you about Glen Dearg," she suggested. "It's the sort of place your mother would have liked."

She closed the door of her room firmly between them.

Charles laughed.

"You can't win," he said. "Do you really want some more coffee?"

"If you would like to finish your brandy."

They made their way back to the candlelit restaurant where the waiter had kept their table vacant, expecting their return. They did not talk about Glen Dearg, however, because it seemed that Charles was reluctant to discuss his Scottish home with a comparative stranger.

"My grandmother wants you to stay in her employment," he said after a moment "How do you feel about it?"

Elizabeth looked down at the tablecloth.

"Isn't it what you feel?" she countered.

"Not entirely." He sounded amused. "I would have thought that you had recognised the fact by now. Grand'mere can be adamant about something she wants very much."

"And so can you," said Elizabeth, looking at him squarely. "Why have you given in about me, Charles? You were very firmly against the idea of your grandmother employing me in the first place."

He considered her question.

"We're privileged to change our minds," he said. "Perhaps I've got to know you a little better and accepted you."

"The necessary evil?"

"If you want to-put it that way."

She smiled, determined not to be daunted by his uncompromising manner.

"I feel I've served my purpose up till now as far as your grandmother is concerned," she told him. "There were moments, of course, when I expected to be dismissed on the spot, especially when I saw you at Waikiki waiting for someone who wasn't there. I deserved instant dismissal, to my way of thinking."

"You were promised San Francisco at least," he reminded her, "and a guaranteed flight to Scotland."

She studied the tablecloth.

"You've been very generous," she admitted.

He laughed abruptly.

"You must thank my grandmother," he said. "She made all the rules."

"And your brother."

He frowned.

"I wouldn't give Jason much credit, if I were you," he warned. "He never stays with an idea for more than five minutes at a time."

"I thought him charming!"

"It's a word that has its pitfalls. Of course, Jason is charming. He takes after Grand'mere."

"And you?"

Charles shrugged.

"I'm my mother's son, with a spicing of Grand'mere thrown in for good measure. My mother was a very practical person, but she had a very soft spot for Grand'mere. They were both dedicated to Abercrombie's, of course, and I suppose that's how one gets after years of sitting on a board of directors."

He was Chairman of the Board now, with all the attendant responsibilities the position carried with it, but she felt that there was more to his preoccupation than his ordinary business commitments. His brows were tightly drawn and there was a hardness about his mouth which completely changed him, but she did not know him well enough to question him further.

"Could we stand by the window for a moment or two?" she asked. "I want to absorb the view."

They stood looking down at the city, at the street lights scintillating twenty-one storeys beneath them and the tall buildings on either side shadowy in the moonlight. The stars were so close that it seemed to Elizabeth that she could hold one just by stretching out her hand.

Beyond the nearer skyscrapers the lights of the Oakland Bridge spanned the harbour and beyond again the long ridge of the surrounding mountains lay dark against the midnight sky.

Charles stood close behind her. They did not speak, yet a strange intimacy seemed to flow between them as they looked out at this magic city where they seemed to be suspended half way to the stars.

It would all end, of course. In a few minutes the restaurant would close and they would be going down in the lift to their separate rooms. Tomorrow would be another day, with Charles burying himself in work, and there would be no more magic left.

"I ought to look in on your grandmother before I go to bed," said Elizabeth, turning from the glitter of the skyscrapers to the dimmed light of the restaurant. "These past two hours have been truly wonderful. Thank you, Charles."

He took her arm to guide her between the emptying tables and they had to stand for a moment, waiting for the lift to come up. Conscious of his touch, like sudden fire, she moved a little way away from him. She had told herself that she couldn't fall in love.

He left her at Mrs. Abercrombie's door, but she stood quite still for several minutes before she opened it and went in. She was already in love, utterly and irretrievably in love with Charles Abercrombie, who was returning home to marry someone else.

The feeling had been with her all evening, gleaned from the odd remark about Glen Dearg which had passed between grandmother and grandson, and she thought that Adele was distressed by the fact Charles's choice would never have been her own, if she had been asked for her advice.

Jenny, or her sister Natalie? What did it matter, or the reason why Charles should have chosen either of them? She had no reason to believe that she had stirred his heart, even when he had kissed her on a romantic Hawaiian beach. She saw the way ahead for her like some dark corridor with no guiding light at its farthest end, yet her feet were already directed towards it and all the heartache she might encounter on the way.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEY flew direct from San Francisco to New York. Charles had been busy all the previous day, which Elizabeth and Mrs. Abercrombie had spent on a bus tour to the High Sierras, but he had joined them for a meal in the restaurant afterwards. They had not gone to the Starlite Roof again; it seemed that he was avoiding a second visit.

The big jet went up over the mountains and across Kansas and Missouri and Indiana till the wide pattern of the Great Lakes lay beneath them, glittering in the sun.

When Mrs. Abercrombie settled down to read her book, Elizabeth offered to help Charles with the accumulation of paper work which he had taken from his briefcase, and he made room for her in the vacant seat beside him.

"You've not been paid for this, you know," he reminded her.

"But I could help," she suggested.

"Very much."

They worked together for the last two hours of the flight while Mrs. Abercrombie glanced across the aisle at them at intervals, her expression satisfied.

"Grand'mere looks like a cat who's been at the cream!" Charles commented as he gathered up the final documents to clip them together for future reference. "I often wonder what goes on in that agile mind of hers."

"Nothing to your detriment," Elizabeth decided. "She's very fond of you."

"And I of her. What I would do without her at Glen Dearg I don't really know."

It was the first time he had mentioned his Scottish home in a voluntary way, and she longed to ask him about Kilchoan, but they were coming in to land at Kennedy and she fastened her seat-belt instead, feeling the thrill of yet another stop-over in their long flight to the land of his birth.

New York was warm and sultry. It was one of those early spring days when there didn't seem to be enough air to go round and what wind there was never seemed to reach the streets. The sidewalks were crowded with hurrying commuters, glad to be on their way out to the suburbs or even farther north to the little towns on the Atlantic seaboard which gave them room to breathe. Yet Elizabeth could feel the magic of this fantastic giant of cities as soon as they reached its pulsating, fabulous heart.

"I'd hate to live here, but I'm glad I've seen it," she confessed to Adele after a busy morning at the shops and an afternoon of sightseeing. "There's a tremendous feeling of power everywhere—power and ruthlessness. Everybody seems in such a hurry, not caring too much about the people they pass by."

"I find it—sterile in comparison with Paris or even London," Adele agreed, "but it does put a certain amount of zip into you, nevertheless. My mind is always greatly stimulated by New York, while in Paris I just want to dream!"

She was the most interesting old lady Elizabeth had ever encountered and just to be in her company was a pleasure. When they came to part, as they inevitably must, she would find it hard to say goodbye. And harder still to turn her back on Charles, walking away without a tear.

He took than to a Broadway show, the latest musical which he declared they ought to see.

"Charles has a way of conjuring theatre tickets out of thin air!" his grandmother laughed. "He likes to see me enjoying myself."

Elizabeth was loving every minute of their brief stay in this great metropolis of thundering subways and racing taxi-cabs and monumental shops full of baubles for the over-rich. She listened to the mighty pulse-beat and all the noise and bustle of commerce and enjoyment as it moved along. It was like being at the hub of a gigantic wheel which never stopped turning, and when their visit was finally over she felt breathless.

"Now for Scotland!" said Adele as they stood once more at Kennedy Airport waiting to board the. jetliner that would take them across the Atlantic. "You can't imagine a greater contrast."

Elizabeth's heartbeats quickened at the thought Her original plan was still intact, thanks to a generous old woman's determination, and she would repay Adele in any way she could.

It seemed no time until they were gliding down towards Prestwick. Long islands lay in the sea beneath them and a serrated coastline where deep lochs bit inland between dark mountains whose summits were wreathed in cloud. They saw the long peninsula of Kintyre and the peaks of Arran gleaming through mist before, once again, they had touched down on solid land.

Elizabeth wanted to cry. It had been her mother's fondest wish to set foot on her native soil once more before she died, and now she was here, alone.

Adele put a gloved hand on her arm.

"Welcome home, my dear," she said.

Charles had left his car in the airport parking lot and he went to collect it while they stood by the luggage.

"I can't come any farther, Mrs. Abercrombie," Elizabeth said with a catch in her throat "It would be an intrusion."

Adele turned to look at her.

"Don't let me down," she said briefly. "I need you, Elizabeth. I want you to come to Glen Dearg with us, at least for the time being."

"But, Charles—"

"Charles is hardly ever Acre, although he should be. He has a flat in Glasgow, a spartan, bachelor place where he tells me he is content, but I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't mean he is happy. Happiness is relevant, of course, but there was a time when he looked forward to a full life in the glen." Her face darkened, her saddened eyes searching the crowd for a glimpse of her grandson. "He should be back at Kilchoan permanently, not cooped up in a Kirklee flat with a bad-tempered old woman to cook for him on the odd evenings he is at home," she added firmly.

Charles rejoined them, helping to stow their luggage in the capacious boot of his car.

"Something will have to go inside," Adele told him. "You can put Elizabeth's grip and my pigskin case on the back seat"

He stiffened.

"Which means that Elizabeth is coming with us all the way?" he asked.

"I've managed to persuade her," Adele said airily. "We are half-way through my correspondence and I refuse to cope with the remainder on my own. I had no idea how useful a secretary-companion could be."

Elizabeth hesitated, torn between her allegiance to Adele and a pitiful pride which would not let her impose on Charles if he did not want her at Glen Dearg.

"I really ought to find a hotel in Glasgow," she suggested. "After all, that's why I came to Scotland—to see the city and—and all the places my mother used to speak about I've loved being with you, Mrs. Abercrombie, and being able to help, but our original arrangement was only for the flight home. There was never any suggestion that I should continue in your employment afterwards."

"We play our cards as they are dealt to us," Adele said firmly. "I said I needed your help and I meant it. Surely you can spare me a week or two of your time, Elizabeth."

Charles opened the rear door of the car.

"There isn't any answer to that," he told Elizabeth, "even if you think you have one. Get in, and Grand'mere will give you a running commentary as we go along."

Mrs. Abercrombie didn't insist that her secretary-companion should occupy the front seat next to the driver. She was far too astute to push her luck after she had achieved so much.

They drove northwards, on a road which wound across open moorland to plunge swiftly into the outskirts of the city, but presently they turned away from the great, grey heart of Glasgow to wind through fields and trees towards the banks of the Clyde.

At this point the great commercial river widened out, with shipyards and cranes and derricks thrusting up against the skyline on either side of it, but nothing could pull Elizabeth's gaze away from the gentle hills on its northern bank. These were the hills she had known by name for years, the Kilpatricks and the Campsie Fells, kneeling at the feet of the great mountain chain which was the barrier to the north. Somewhere in among these hills, on the banks of Loch Lomond, her mother had been born and loved and married before the needs of a growing family had taken her to the opposite end of the earth.

I can't think about it; I can't speak, Elizabeth thought, putting her hand to her throat. It's all here, it's all happening as we planned it so long ago!

They drove over the long span of a delicate-looking bridge where the river lay far beneath them and the hills came very near.

"These are the hills you spoke about," said Adele. "The Kilpatricks and the Campsies. Remember when you first climbed the Whangie, Charles?" she added to her grandson. "You were as proud as if it had been Everest. My goodness! we are nearly home after travelling all these miles."

They were in among the hills now, with vast forests clothing the valleys and deep blue lochs appearing, as if by magic, wherever the trees grew thin. A wide strath opened out before them and for the first time Elizabeth was face to face with the great peaks of the Grampians lifting their heads in the sun. Mountain after mountain closed in their horizon and she longed to name them all. The deep glens through which they passed were almost familiar to her through song and story, and many a legend came to life as she gazed expectantly towards the purple crests of the beckoning peaks. They were in the vast dark mystical heart of Scotland, in the place where she had always longed to be, and somehow she knew that she belonged there. A peace which she could only half understand had settled on her heart and the warmth which had been missing from her life during the past few months returned.

A chain of narrow lochs linked themselves in a sapphire necklace on the road beneath them and she held her breath as Charles swung the car to the left and they began to climb another hill. The view from the top was magnificent: hills and lochs and narrow straths lay far below them and the great mountains towered above with their heads in the clouds. It was a spring day and all the world had been renewed, and the sun was shining as brightly as it had ever shone in Australia.

"We don't get many days like this," Adele reflected, "but when we do they are magnificent. If you like to walk, Elizabeth, Glen Dearg is the place for you."

Elizabeth supposed that they must be nearing Kilchoan, and her heart beat rapidly at the prospect of seeing the lodge for the first time. It was the home which Charles had known since boyhood, the place where he belonged.

Looking at him as he drove swiftly towards it, she saw the sudden tension in his face and the strong grip of his hands on the wheel. His jaw was set in a hard line and although she could not see his expression she imagined that his eyes were hard. What had gone wrong, she wondered, to change a happy childhood home to a place he avoided whenever he could?

The car plunged down into a narrow glen where a still, deep lochan lay, half in sunlight, half in shade, surrounded by a dense pine forest which stretched as far as she could see. The mountain tops rose above it, clear and shining in the afternoon sunshine, but along the valley floor the shadows were already gathering, making it look strangely cold.

At the far end of the glen they could see Kilchoan Lodge standing in a small clearing above the lochan.

"There it is!" Adele announced with pride. "The sun is shining on it today."

The narrow road they took along the lochside was busy with sheep. They had climbed down off the hillside to nibble the sweeter grass by the waterside, but they hobbled away at the sound of the car's horn, bounding back to the hill and safety.

"Wise creatures!" Adele commented. "They know all about cars and when to keep clear of them." She turned round in her seat. "Are you tired, Elizabeth?" she asked. "You haven't said a word since we passed through Aberfoyle!"

"I haven't had an adequate word to say," Elizabeth confessed. "It's all so beautiful—so utterly lovely."

They had reached the lodge gates which were opened for them by a small, red-cheeked woman in a white overall who had obviously been baking when she had heard the sound of the approaching car. Adele wound down her window to speak to her.

"Welcome back, ma'am," the woman said. "We are all glad to see you." She turned her eyes on Charles with an appreciative smile. "And Mr. Charles, too," she added. "We wondered if he would bring you home."

It was almost too much for Elizabeth, this homecoming, the warmth of it which wrapped Charles and his grandmother round like a protective cloak, making her feel how much she had lost when her own mother had died.

"This is Miss Drummond, my new secretary," Mrs. Abercrombie was explaining. "She has come all the way from Australia with me, so we must make her feel welcome at Kilchoan, Effie, whenever we can."

The gates were closed behind them as they drove on, shutting them into their own domain.

"Effie's husband is our grieve," Adele explained. "Charles depends on him a great deal now that he has decided to live in Glasgow for most of the year. James Murdoch has worked for us for over thirty years and we are firm friends."

The lodge was in sight, a long, low house built of native stone set on a rocky ledge above the water with the hills sweeping down behind it to form a spectacular backcloth to its tall chimneys and weathered walls. A smooth green lawn lay in front of the windows which seemed to reflect all the sunlight there was, and the house itself was surrounded by a high stone wall built to shelter a rose garden and the fruit trees and vegetable plot which Adele had told her about in Hawaii.

They drove under a stone archway in the surrounding wall and pulled up before a canopied entrance where the great oak door stood invitingly open to welcome them.

At the sound of their voices someone came running through the house, and Elizabeth had an impression of light and air as a fair-haired girl stood before them in the doorway, yet at a second glance she saw that, the girl was crippled. One arm hung awkwardly by her side as she rushed to greet them.

"Grand'mere!" she cried. "You have been such a long time coming. I've been waiting for days!" Suddenly her eyes went beyond the old lady to where Charles stood beside the car. "Charles," she added haltingly, "we didn't expect you."

"So it will be a nice surprise for everybody," Mrs. Abercrombie said, bridging the awkward little gap in the conversation. "Come and meet Elizabeth Drummond. I wrote to you about her."

Elizabeth stepped forward, clasping the girl's left hand which had been extended towards her and conscious of a moment's direct hostility as their eyes met.

"This is Jenny," Adele explained. "I think you might have a great deal in common when you come to know each other. Since we will all have to live together under one roof, I hope so," she added bluntly.

Charles was standing on the broad step behind them and Jenny's eyes had hardly left his face since she had first recognised him.

"Hullo, Jennifer," he said. "What have you to report since I went away?"

Although his tone had been light there was a deep concern in his dark eyes as they searched the girl's flushed face. Jenny managed a bright smile.

"Nothing spectacular ever happens here," she told him, linking her arm in his. "You know that, Charles. There are two new ponies and the dinghy sprang a leak when we took it out for the first time, but apart from that—nothing."

"We must find you more to do," he teased. "You sound as if you lead a very idle life."

"Not idle." Jenny gave his arm a little shake. "We work all the time, but the excitements are few and far between. We went to Stilling yesterday, shopping, but that didn't take very long."

"Where's Natalie?" Mrs. Abercrombie asked.

"At the stables, I suppose." Jenny turned to smile at her. "One of the new ponies is a bit frail, but Nat thinks he'll survive. You know how good she is with horses." She tossed her long hair back from her face. "Why are we all standing on the doorstep?" she demanded. "Don't you want to come in, after all this long time?"

She stood aside, watching Elizabeth covertly as they entered the hall with its raftered ceiling and wide oak staircase climbing to the floor above. She was older than she had seemed at first glance, Elizabeth decided, probably seventeen or eighteen, and she looked decidedly frail. Her skin appeared almost transparent, drawn finely across high cheekbones and a wide brow, and her legs and arms were pathetically thin, yet she carried herself with an odd dignity which was somehow touching. The violet eyes which had met Elizabeth's with something like hostility in their depths were turned swiftly back to Charles as he carried in the luggage.

"Have you come to stay?" she asked, looking for his personal belongings among the other cases. "Murdoch says it's high time you were here for a spell."

"Murdoch is getting old," Charles laughed. "He likes to blether."

"Will you stay?" She stood directly in front of him, demanding an answer. "Please, Charles, just for a little while." She took his arm again. "You must have lots and lots to tell me about—Australia."

"I'm here till the week-end, at least," he said.

"We can do so much," she suggested, grasping at the crumbs of his favour. "You can take me to Perth—or Edinburgh."

"We'll see."

Adele led the way across the hall to a small sitting-room where a bright fire burned in the high grate and a table had been set for tea. It had been drawn close to the fire, and Jenny turned to Adele.

"It's how you like it, Grand'mere," she said. "I knew you would want a cup right away."

She stood like a child waiting for approval, and Adele stooped to kiss her on the cheek.

"You know all my failings, little one," she smiled. "We will have tea as soon as your sister arrives."

Jenny frowned.

"Natalie never stops for tea these days," she said, "and I don't think she'll come if the pony is still restless."

"Then we must have our tea without her," the mistress of Kilchoan decided. "Your sister will come when she feels like it, I dare say. You can show Elizabeth to her room in the meantime," she added. "Where have you put her?"

Jenny hesitated.

"Mrs. Murdoch thought the tower room would be best." She looked in Elizabeth's direction for the first time since they had entered the house. "I'll show you where it is," she offered almost grudgingly.

Charles had carried the luggage up to the top landing.

"Your room isn't ready, but it will only take a few minutes to put it right," Jenny told him. "Mrs. Murdoch is coming up to do the dinner and she'll help me with the sheets."

"I could quite easily help myself," said Charles, "if you brought me the sheets."

She looked at him, her expression humble.

"I'm sorry it wasn't ready for you," she said.

"You worry too much!" He kissed her on the forehead, a mild, brotherly salute which rushed the colour into her cheeks and made her draw away. "See to Elizabeth and I'll join you downstairs in five minutes, if not less!"

Jenny led Elizabeth to a closed door farther along the corridor.

"Mind the step!" she cautioned. "You're in the little turret at the corner of the house."

The single step up led them into a tiny bedroom with a semi-circular wall on which twin windows overlooked the lochan and the rose garden. It was a cosy little room with a single bed, a wardrobe and dressing-table and an old-fashioned wash-stand which now did service as a writing-desk—adequate, Elizabeth decided, for a short stay.

"The bathroom's over there." Jenny nodded across the corridor. "You'll have to share it with Charles and me, I'm afraid. Those side rooms haven't been altered since time began."

Elizabeth went to wash her hands before she joined Mrs. Abercrombie for tea, and when she wait back to her room Jenny was standing in the doorway, waiting.

"How long do you mean to stay?" she asked. "As Mrs. Abercrombie's secretary, I mean?"

"As long as she needs me." The wards seemed to be some form of defence, although Elizabeth could not understand why she should have to explain her presence at Kilchoan to the girl who stood waiting for her reply with such an odd look of intensity about her. "Mrs. Abercrombie has a lot of correspondence to attend to, I understand."

"Yes," Jenny agreed slowly. "I couldn't help her in that respect, could I?" She looked down at her crippled hand. "It was an accident," she explained bleakly. "I was hurt in a car accident. Didn't she tell you?"

"I haven't known her very long," Elizabeth explained. "Perhaps she forgot."

The violet eyes were suddenly raised to hers in stormy protest.

"How could she forget when it meant so much to her? When it meant so much to us all," she amended swiftly. "Did you meet Jason in Sydney? That's where he went after it happened. Natalie says he ran away."

Shocked into silence by the bitter accusation, Elizabeth could not answer her, and while she stood there Charles came along the corridor from his own room to escort them downstairs.

"I've been telling Elizabeth about my accident," Jenny told him. "She didn't know."

Charles's jaw tightened.

"She hasn't been with us very long," he pointed out.

"That's what she said." Jenny heaved a deep sigh. "I suppose it's only important to me. Everyone else has conveniently forgotten."

"You know that isn't true." There was a suggestion of anger in his deep voice which was instantly submerged in pity. "We don't forget so easily, Jenny."

"No, I don't believe you do." She searched his face for confirmation of his words. "You'll never forget Claire, will you, and—and what Jason did to her?"

"We won't talk about it," he said. "Not now."

Jenny looked at Elizabeth.

"She's like her, isn't she? Did you notice it as soon as you met her, how like Claire she was?" Jenny's demand was almost a plea. "You couldn't help noticing when you loved Claire so much, could you, Charles?"

It was a dreadful moment for Elizabeth, standing there between them in the silent hall. She could not bring herself to look at Charles, nor could she speak to Jenny, who seemed determined to trample on everybody's feelings in her own despair. She had been hurt and left with a crippled arm in a terrible accident which had somehow involved both Charles and his brother, and her aim was to see that Charles, at least, would never forget.

They crossed the hall in silence, but as they reached the sitting-room door a breath of cold air swept towards them from the stone-flagged passageway which led from the kitchen premises. It had an edge of ice in it, stabbing into the warmth of the quiet house.

"It's Natalie," said Jenny. "She's come for tea, after all. She must be very curious."

Charles opened the sitting-room door.

"In you go," he directed. "I'll tell her we're waiting."

He left them abruptly, walking along the short passageway to shut out the draught.

Mrs. Abercrombie looked up from her task of infusing the tea. She used a beautiful old silver tea-kettle which had been placed ready on a side table near her chair, and she made room for Elizabeth to sit down beside her.

"Come near to the fire, my child," she invited. "You look cold." She drew forward a comfortable chair. "There's a great difference between the temperatures of the Pacific and those of Scotland, and we're only a few days away from Hawaii, after all."

To Elizabeth those few days seemed more like a lifetime because it seemed that Charles had changed out of all recognition. He was now a man with a tragic love story behind him, a man unwilling, by his own admission, to forget.

The door opened and he was standing there with a tall girl by his side. Claire's sister. She knew that this must be Natalie Hodge, but she was hardly prepared for the look of naked hatred in the other girl's eyes as they were introduced.

"Natalie, this is Elizabeth Drummond," Mrs. Abercrombie said. "She will be here at the lodge for some time and I hope you will be willing to show her around."

The tall, dark girl moved from Charles's side into the centre of the room, her eyes turbulent as a storm-racked sky still fixed on Elizabeth, her hands tightly clenched by her side.

"I can't quite see how you are going to fit in at Kilchoan," she said frigidly. "We lead a very isolated life here. Perhaps you hadn't thought of that."

Elizabeth didn't know how to answer her.

"Sit down, Natalie," Mrs. Abercrombie commanded. "Elizabeth is my guest, and I would have you remember it."

Never before had Elizabeth heard her employer speak so sharply and to such apparent effect.

"I'm sorry!" Natalie Hodge apologised abruptly. "I was merely stating a well known fact."

"An opinion would be the better term." Adele turned to pour out the tea. "Charles, will you bring a small table for Elizabeth while Jenny passes some of those delicious sandwiches which have been making my mouth water ever since I came in," she added. "I'm sure everybody is ravenously hungry."

"Not for me," said Natalie, disdaining the tea and taking out a cigarette. "May I?" she enquired of her hostess with a small, hard smile.

"If you must. You smoke too much," Adele reminded her. "How is the pony, by the way? Jenny tells me you have a sickly one on your hands."

"I ought to have the vet in," Natalie frowned. "I was waiting to see what happened over the week-end."

"If it's a question of money you mustn't hesitate," Adele told her. "I don't like to see an animal suffer if we can do anything about it."

"You're very kind." Natalie's tone was dry. "I'll see about it in the morning." She rose to prowl across the room to the window where she could look out at the lochan. "How long are you here for this time, Charles?" she asked.

It was the same question as Jenny had put to him, but probably for a different reason.

"I may stay over the week-end." He bit into a sandwich. "Time I saw how things were going on."

"They're going on very well, even in your absence," Natalie told him. "Murdoch runs the estate like clockwork and I keep the wolf from the door at the stables for Jenny and myself. That's how it is; that's how it will always be, I suppose, unless you think differently one day."

"You know Charles would never turn you out," Adele said in an exasperated tone. "Don't be difficult, Natalie. He made you a promise and he'll keep it."

"A promise to Claire," said Natalie. "Yes, I know, but I also know how life can change, how circumstances can alter people. Even Charles," she added bitterly.

Charles put down his half-empty cup.

"If you would like me to take a look at that pony, Natalie," he suggested pointedly, "we'd better go down before it gets too dark. I'll get into touch with the vet in the morning if it really is serious."

Natalie swung round from the window.

"Thank you, Charles," she said, her face brightening. "We'll go right away, if you really don't want any more tea. I'm worried about the poor thing, and I can't afford a death at the moment. The season is just beginning, as you know."

Charles excused himself and they went out together, two tall, rather distinguished-looking figures in the failing light, while Elizabeth was left to wonder what they could possibly have in common. Jenny, too, seemed disturbed by their apparent intimacy, her uncertainty taking her to the window to watch them on their way to the stables. Mrs. Abercrombie sat bolt upright in her chair, frowning.

"For goodness' sake, Jenny, sit down!" she exclaimed after a moment. "You know how I hate people prowling when something is bothering them. What's the trouble?"

Jenny glanced in Elizabeth's direction.

"Nothing," she declared, coming back to stand beside the fire. "Nothing that can easily be put right, anyway. Did you have a wonderful time in Australia?" she asked as if the question led naturally from the previous one. "Did everything go according to plan?"

"You know nothing ever does!" A quick smile erased the frown from the old lady's brow. "We stopped off at Hawaii."

"Stopped off?" Jenny laughed. "You mean you stayed for several days, quite unexpectedly!"

Adele's eyes darkened.

"Henri Duroc died while I was there," she said.

"What a blessing Charles was with you .'" Jenny sank into the chair on the other side of the hearth. "He sent me a postcard from Waikiki," she explained. "Gorgeous dancing girls in grass skirts with flowers in their hair!"

The words stabbed into Elizabeth's heart, renewing the moonlit scene on the beach at Waikiki when she had stood alone with Charles, watching the sea.

"I'd love to go there," Jenny was saying. "It must be the most romantic place in the world."

"Waikiki is becoming commercialised, like everywhere else," Adele told her, "but Maui is a different proposition." She seemed to be seeing Jenny for the first time, , assessing their relationship with a critical eye. "Henri has left me the plantation," she added briefly, "so you may get your wish sooner than you think."

"Oh!" Jenny leaned forward in her chair. "You know how I would love to go there!"

"Yes," Adele agreed with a short, sharp sigh. "I know, but we have also Natalie to consider."

"She would be quite happy to stay here," Jenny returned swiftly. "We were talking about it the other day. Nat doesn't mind the isolation one little bit. In fact, she loves it because her ponies are all that matter to her."

"You matter," Adele said quietly, "up to a point. I've brought you a present," she added, deliberately switching the conversation away from Natalie. "If you fetch my small travelling-bag you can have it right away."

"How lovely!" Jenny jumped to her feet. "What is it, Grand'mere? Something from Australia?"

"I got it in Hawaii—at the very last minute, which almost caused Elizabeth to have an epileptic fit!" Adele drew Elizabeth back into the conversation with quiet deliberation. "Now that we are safely here," she added, "you needn't worry so much about Charles's opinion. It doesn't do a man any good to have everything going for him all the time. Charles imagines that he makes all the Abercrombie decisions and I let him think so. A little bit of subtlety goes a long way, and most men can be led where they won't be driven. When there are more than trivialities at stake," she added slowly, "it is best to be a little determined. Charles will be the head of the family quite soon, with all the attendant responsibilities that will entail, so he can't afford to make an irretrievable mistake now."

"You would like him to marry," Elizabeth assumed.

"Naturally, he must marry! It is in the nature of things," the old lady declared, her wide-awake eyes taking in the vista of loch and hills which could be seen through the long window. "A tragic experience in the past mustn't be allowed to colour the whole of the future for Charles or any of us. I'm French enough to realise that life is a long journey with more hills to climb than downward stretches where one can run and laugh in the sun, but I'm human enough to want the best for my family. Both my grandsons," she added, thinking of Jason whom she had left behind in Australia. "I'd like them both back here in Scotland, but at the present moment that's impossible. Besides, I believe Australia has been good for Jason—made a man of him, perhaps."

"How long has he been there?" Elizabeth asked.

"Two years. It's just over two years since the accident." The old lady's eyes were suddenly remote. "I can't speak about it in front of Jenny," she explained, looking towards the door. "She dwells on it too much as it is. She was badly hurt, as you can see, and her adored sister was killed."

"Claire!" Elizabeth murmured.

Claire's name had burned itself into Elizabeth's mind from the moment she had first heard it. Jenny's young, high-pitched voice with the suggestion of a sob in it still rang in her ears as she demanded of Charles: 'You'll never forget Claire, will you, and what Jason did to her ?'

"Jason was driving the car," Mrs. Abercrombie explained. "He must have been driving too fast, or at least Charles thought so, but the weather conditions were very bad. There was snow on the pass and freezing fog. Nothing could have been worse, and at the last minute Charles couldn't go with them. If he had been able to go—if a business commitment hadn't stood in his way— he would have been driving the car, and that's why I think he can never forgive himself for putting Abercrombie's first. They were going to a Hunt Ball. It was Jenny's first grown-up dance."

"Poor Jenny!" said Elizabeth. "Will she always be like that?"

"It is hoped that her arm will strengthen a little with the necessary exercises, but she will never have the full use of her hand." Addle sighed. "It will be something she will learn to live with, in the end, but Just now it is crippling her mind as well as her body. Natalie hopes Charles will marry Jenny, of course, out of a sense of obligation, but I wouldn't like to see that happen. Unless it was something he really wanted," she added thoughtfully as Jenny came back into the room with her pigskin travelling-case.

"What does he really want?" Jenny asked gaily. "You were talking about Charles, weren't you?"

"You have ears as long as a donkey's," Adele exclaimed. "Charles doesn't necessarily dominate our conversation all the time."

Jenny cast a speculative glance in Elizabeth's direction.

"I felt you were discussing him," she said, placing the case on the old lady's knee. "Hurry and open it, Grand'mere! I can hardly wait!"

Elizabeth was quick to recognise the deep bond of affection which existed between these two, the tenderness and pity of the old lady's love towards the child who had been injured, and the unquestioning devotion of the young girl who had come to rely on that love and understanding in an almost impossible situation. Jenny had been deeply affected by her experience, but it was in Natalie that the true bitterness lay. Without being a victim of the accident itself, it had affected her in a way she had least expected, curtailing her freedom to do exactly as she wished with her life. It was Natalie who demanded recompense, if not revenge, for the loss of Claire and the dependence of Jenny on Mrs. Abercrombie's bounty.

Adele found the bracelet she had bought at the airport, clasping it round Jenny's frail wrist while Elizabeth looked on.

"Grand'mere, it's lovely!" Jenny cried. "What are they ? They look like little beans."

"They are little beans," Mrs. Abercrombie smiled.

"And they all have a meaning, which you can read on the lid of the box."

Jenny was already attaching their meanings to the relative beans.

"This one says that I'll return to the Islands," she pointed out, "although I've never been there!"

"It could mean that you'll return more than once," Elizabeth suggested helpfully.

"This one is for love." Jenny looked up at them, her eyes suddenly bleak. "Can it be for me?" she asked.

"Why not?" Adele demanded. "You must not be afraid of life, ma chere. It's there for the living for all of us."

"I know." Jenny let the beans dangle from their frail gold chain. "They're so pretty," she said. "I'll wear them all the time, to remind me."

Of love? A love she had lost or one she might never possess?— Her attitude to Charles had been gay and friendly, yet she had looked at him with a sort of longing, her eyes misted over with sudden tears. Elizabeth turned away from the brightness of the fire as Charles came back into the room with Natalie. They had seen the pony and Charles thought it wise to consult the local veterinary surgeon as soon as possible.

"I'll phone him first thing in the morning," Natalie agreed. "I'm glad you feel the same as I do about it, Charles."

Her cheeks were faintly flushed and she kept her eyes on the window where the light was beginning to fade.

"Will you stay and have a meal with us?" Adele asked. "You will be welcome."

"No, thank you all the same." Natalie's smile was thin. "I know you must want to have a family confab when you have been away from, Kilchoan for so long. Charles had a word with James Murdoch on the way up," she added. "Even here we had problems, it would seem. Jenny can stay, of course. She's done nothing but talk about your return since you went away."

Charles followed her to the door, looking back at Elizabeth.

"Would you like a walk?" he asked. "It's still light enough and it isn't very far."

"I can easily find my own way home," Natalie snapped before Elizabeth could answer. "I do it all the time, remember?"

She had a way of nipping even the kindest suggestion in the bud which was disconcerting, and Elizabeth found herself waiting for Charles's reply.

"You must please yourself," he told her, "but the offer still stands." He looked directly at Elizabeth. "I thought you might like to see the sun go down over a Scottish loch," he added.

"Allez-vous-en!" said Adele, watching them closely. "Jenny will help me to unpack."

Jenny took her arm.

"You must have bought dozens of new things since you went to Australia," she smiled. "I can hardly wait to help!"

"Why should I want to buy new clothes at my age?" Adele demanded. "I have more than enough for my needs."

"Now you're just being a humbug!" Jenny laughed as they walked away. "The French part of you will always be interested in new clothes, to say nothing about the latest fashion!"

"How well you know me!" Adele chuckled. "Dinner is at eight, Charles, the same as always. Give Elizabeth time to have a bath and change."

Almost reluctantly Natalie Hodge followed them to the front door, standing on the step in frigid silence while Charles found a walking stick in the large cloakroom leading from the hall. It had originally been a gun-room and was full of all sorts of things, from garden chairs to brooms for sweeping up the autumn leaves and numerous waterproof coats ready to hand for anyone going out in the rain.

"All set?" He walked between them down the drive. "Is it safe to go across the fields?" he asked.

"Safe enough for me," Natalie told him with a disdainful glance at Elizabeth's footwear. "I came that way, but I dare say Miss Drummond will be in difficulty before she reaches the stile into the wood."

"We'll take the road, in that case," Charles said.

"It's the longer way round," Natalie reminded him.

"We're not in any hurry. I'll take a look in at the stables on my way back," he promised.

They went out between the lodge gates, quickening their pace when they reached the main road, their footsteps ringing on its frosty surface as they climbed the hill.

"You needn't bother to come all the way," said Natalie. "I'm perfectly capable of getting back to Windy Brae on my own, Charles."

"We're almost there," he said, walking on determinedly.

Ahead of them, on the spur of a hill, they could just see the cottage where the three sisters had made their home after their parents' death. It was larger than Elizabeth had expected, with a high-pitched roof and a row of windows along the front which must have commanded a breathtaking view of the entire glen, yet Natalie spoke of it disparagingly as they drew near.

"We suffer from a terrible lack of space," she told Elizabeth. "After Berridene, which was our childhood home, Windy Brae feels like a rabbit hutch, but we had very little choice. We had to get rid of Berridene and that was that. If it hadn't been for Charles—and Mrs. Abercrombie—I would have been forced to part with the ponies, too, but now they are firmly established in the stables at Kilchoan, and life is bearable again."

She had managed to convey the fact that she and Jenny were part of the life at Kilchoan—an essential part of it—and that any interference with their established routine would be deeply resented. She made a point of isolating the conversation to Charles and herself, discussing horses, which Elizabeth knew very little about, although she had learned to ride, succeeding in creating a tension in the atmosphere which even Charles must feel.

"I won't ask you in," she said when they reached the heavy iron gate leading to the cottage. "Unless you would like a drink, Charles?"

"We must get back," he decided. "Dinner will be on time."

A small roe deer had found its way through the half-open gate into the garden.

"Heavens!" Natalie exclaimed. "My poor cabbages! I'll have none left if he's in there for the rest of the night. Can you head him off, Charles, while I open the other gate?"

The small deer was elusive, to say the least, and Elizabeth decided that she was of very little help when she had headed the startled animal in the wrong direction twice. Twice Natalie glared at her.

"You had better leave it to Charles," she said, drawing up beside the gate. "You've chased it far enough the wrong way, as it is."

"I'm sorry!" Elizabeth apologised. "I meant to be helpful." '

Natalie considered her for several seconds before she said:

"You know absolutely nothing about conditions in this part of the world, do you? You're a town-bred Australian and you'll never really fit in."

Taken completely aback, Elizabeth was aware of the angry colour flooding into her cheeks.

"Is that what Charles drinks?" she found herself demanding. "If so, he needn't worry. I'll fit in as far as Mrs. Abercrombie is concerned. I can always be the perfect secretary."

"A secretary-companion," Natalie mused. "What a ridiculous situation! She's never needed either a secretary or a companion before, to my knowledge. She's the most self-reliant old woman for miles around, but I suppose it was Jason's idea. It couldn't possibly have been Charles's."

"Whoever had the idea originally," Elizabeth said slowly, "it's worked out very well. It probably was Jason's suggestion, when I come to think of it."

"Because you were an unwanted girl-friend?" Natalie's smile was humiliating in the extreme. "How long had you known him?"

"Not at all," Elizabeth returned with dignity, determined not to answer any more questions. "I wrote to a box number in a Sydney newspaper and was lucky enough to get the job."

"Lucky, yes," Natalie agreed scathingly, "but I think you ought to know that there isn't any room for you at Kilchoan. We're a very tightly-knit unit here—a family, I could say—and Charles hasn't time for extra hangers-on."

Appalled by the harsh effrontery of the calculated insult, Elizabeth could only stare at her in silent antagonism as Charles finally chased the deer out of the garden and secured the gate which led on to the moor.

"If you imagine that you've made a conquest," Natalie added under her breath, "I would put the idea out of your head, too. You're not the sort of person Charles would marry, even if he wasn't already committed to looking after Jenny. He made Claire a promise about that, and one day he and Jenny will marry."

"I see."

It was as much as Elizabeth could manage while her heart pounded slowly against her ribs, beating out the rhythm of her despair. Perhaps it was only natural that Charles should marry Jenny in the end, someone he had known all his life, someone who loved Kilchoan, but her heart cried out its protest all the same as he came towards them with the slight smile on his lips which she would never be able to forget.

"You'll have to wire the back gate," he advised Natalie. "That was a young one, but lie had already learned to use his head."

"They jump over the wall, anyway," said Natalie. "A garden in these parts is something of a lost cause. You're lucky at Kilchoan, of course, with that enormous surrounding wall."

She seemed to be eternally drawing comparisons with his family and her own, and for a moment Charles looked impatient.

"I'll have a bit put on the top of the fence for you," he offered. "Murdoch can send someone to do it in the morning—Will Beatty, probably."

A dull red colour suffused Natalie's sallow cheeks.

"I don't want help from Will Beatty, thank you," she said. "Murdoch can send someone else, someone more— reliable."

Charles looked at her keenly.

"I'm surprised to hear that about Will," he said. "He used to do all your odd jobs for you at one time."

Natalie turned towards the house.

"Perhaps he did," she returned stiffly, "but I won't have him back. You can tell Jamie Murdoch that if you like."

She walked away up the path without saying good night or thanking him for seeing her home.

Charles led the way back down the road towards Kilchoan.

"Natalie can be very difficult," he said. "She would try the patience of a saint at times, so don't take too much notice of what she says. At one time Will Beatty was without fault in her eyes and there was even a hint that they might marry, but now she seems to have changed her mind. The only person who can deal with Natalie is my grandmother!"

"I'm not surprised!" Elizabeth was determined to put the thought of Natalie Hodge out of her mind for the time being, at least "Your grandmother has most people neatly docketed in her mind."

He smiled at the thought.

"How right you are!" he said. "You seem to get on very well together."

"We managed to come to terms with each other from the beginning," Elizabeth agreed.

At the first bend in the road they drew up to admire the view, looking down across open moorland to the lochan and Kilchoan with the hills and trees in the background and the pink flush of a lingering sunset staining its old grey walls. The golden light from the west was caught and reflected from its many windows, as if a warm fire burned in all the rooms, beckoning them home.

Abruptly Elizabeth turned away. Home for Charles and one day, when he had managed to put the tragedy of Claire's untimely death behind him, a home for Jenny, too. That was what Natalie Hodge wanted more than anything else, she realised, because, with her younger sister firmly established at Kilchoan as Charles Abercrombie's wife, she could enjoy security at Windy Brae and a prestige in the district which she coveted. Marriage for herself didn't seem to enter into her scheme of things; she had her horses and her own way of life in the glen, and these seemed to be sufficient.

"Have the Hodges always lived here?" she asked as they walked on.

"Their people farmed at Berridene on the other side of the hill. Claire ran it," he added, "after her father died. There were no sons in the family. When Claire and I were going to be married they came to live at Windy Brae because Jenny and Natalie could never have managed on their own." He drew a deep breath. "These things happen and, because of the accident, we feel an obligation to both Jenny and Natalie."

"Your grandmother is very fond of Jenny," Elizabeth commented.

"Who wouldn't be?" His tone was rough. "Jenny is a very dear person. We all love her, but sometimes I feel that she's being overwhelmed."

"In what way?"

"Everyone insisting that she must be taken care of. Jenny could always take care of herself. She used to be a fighter. It was Jenny who did everything for Claire after the accident, in spite of her own injuries, but she took a tough knock shortly afterwards which seems to have crushed her in some way."

They were nearing Kilchoan and Elizabeth knew that they had come to the end of their confidences, but she was glad that Charles had been able to speak about Claire. His face was stern at the thought of Jenny, yet there was a great tenderness in his eyes when he spoke her name.

"Jenny will show you the glen," he said. "Try to befriend her while you're here, Elizabeth."

The implication in those last few words sank into Elizabeth's heart like a stone. He did not expect her to stay at Kilchoan for any length of time, and perhaps he was even suggesting in the most tactful way possible that she should go now that his grandmother was safely home.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THAT first meal at Kilchoan was an unforgettable one for Elizabeth. Jenny was very gay and they helped Mrs. Murdoch to bring in the plates from the kitchen, watching while Charles carved the large joint of roast mutton as they would have done if they had really been part of his family.

Adele Abercrombie sat in a high-backed chair at the head of the table, appraising them with smiling eyes, glad to be back at Kilchoan after three months of travelling, glad to be home. She sustained a vivacious conversation with the grieve's wife while Mrs. Murdoch remained in the room and told diem afterwards that she had missed 'that grand little woman' more than anyone else.

"More than me?" demanded Jenny, her eyes very bright.

"What makes you think I should miss you?" the old lady teased. "You chatter all the time without managing to say very much!"

"Oh, Grand'mere!" Jenny protested, "if I thought you meant that I'd never speak to you again. I have got a lot to say, and ask, but I can't think of everything at once."

"What have you been doing while I've been away?" Adele asked. "Your letters were most unsatisfactory."

"You know I don't put things down on paper very well," Jenny frowned, "but I've been quite busy. Natalie had to write my letters for me, at first," she added in a low voice, "until I got used to scribbling with my left hand. I've visited all the people on the list you left," she added hastily, "and I've started to make little animals out of wood. They'll take them at the craft shop and sell them on commission for me during the summer."

"What about your painting?" Adele asked.

Jenny's eyes darkened.

"I haven't done any at all," she confessed. "Winter isn't the time."

"But spring is, and it's spring now," Adele pointed out.

"One day—"

" 'One day" is far too late," Adele said firmly. "You can come with me when I start to fish. You can sit on the bank and paint, if you've nothing more important to do. Do you paint, Elizabeth?" she asked. "It's a wonderful recreation, even if you are not a budding Constable or even a Picasso."

"I'm afraid I haven't any talent in that direction," Elizabeth confessed.

"I didn't ask if you had talent. All I wanted to know was if you had the urge to put colour and life on to a canvas by means of a brush and some oils."

Elizabeth smiled.

"It was a very long time ago," she confessed.

"Well, you must try again," Adele declared. "Never give in after a false start," she advised. "Jenny will let you have one of her sketching-blocks and a pencil to begin with, and if you don't make anything of it you can always learn to fish J"

Charles, who had been a silent, if interested, observer, rose to pour his grandmother some more wine.

"Don't overdo the fishing," he advised. "Wait till I can come with you."

"And when will that be?" she demanded. "You are off to Glasgow on Monday, I gather, and that means weeks of hard work as far as you are concerned with the odd day up here if you can spare the time."

"You would be the first one to notice if I idled my time away!"

"Being idle and spending a well-earned holiday are two entirely different things," she affirmed. "I'll expect you here at week-ends, Charles," she added. "Bring your paper work with you, if you must, but come."

"I'll see what I can do." He was standing behind Jenny, smiling down at her bent head. "I might even help with the animals," he promised when she looked up at him, "since I have no great talent with a paintbrush."

When the meal was over Elizabeth and Jenny helped to wash up while Charles talked business with Adele, putting her in the picture as far as his recent negotiations were concerned. Her agile mind was still needle-sharp, and from time to time they appeared to be arguing a point till it was finally disposed of to their mutual satisfaction.

Jenny seemed to be supremely happy now that Adele had returned and Charles was at Kilchoan. Her eyes shone as she embraced the whole world with a radiant smile and only occasionally, when she believed herself unobserved, was there a slight droop to her pretty mouth and a seriousness about her which suggested that all might not be well in her sheltered little world.

The week-end passed uneventfully and Charles set out for Glasgow on the Monday morning, promising his grandmother to return on the Friday if it was at all possible. With five whole days before them Mrs. Abercrombie made her plans.

"We'll work during the morning, Elizabeth," she decided, "when the light is good, and then we can have the remainder of the day to ourselves. Jenny will show you around in the afternoon, or Natalie,' if she feels inclined. Do you want to ride?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

"I learned to ride in Queensland, although I never had my own horse," she said.

"Natalie will fix you up with a suitable pony," Adele suggested. "You can tell her I said so. She's a very selfish person, you know; thinks of nobody hut herself. That's part of the reason why I have Jenny to stay here while I am at home."

"You've taken her completely under your wing."

"I'm protecting her from too much Natalie!"

"Do you think she needs protection?" Elizabeth ventured.

"Of course she does! She has to live with a crippled hand." Adele frowned over her spectacles. "Sometimes you talk exactly like Charles," she said.

Elizabeth flushed.

"I'm sorry!" she apologised. "I didn't mean to sound critical."

"You think I smother Jenny with my affection," Adele mused. "Perhaps I do. She is the daughter I never had."

"Yes, I can understand that," Elizabeth agreed.

"But you think I ought to let her stand more on her own two feet? I thought to do that when I went off to Australia without her," Adele admitted. "At least, it was one of my reasons.. Jason was the other one."

Elizabeth waited, not quite sure where Jason came into Mrs. Abercrombie's scheme of things, but her employer had apparently come to the end of her confidences.

"If you're not a very experienced rider don't let Natalie put you up on a mettlesome horse," she warned. "She tends to despise people who can't ride like Peer Gynt, but take no notice of her. Do things within your limits till you get acclimatised and you'll steer clear of trouble."

Elizabeth put the writing material on the table between them.

"Mrs. Abercrombie," she began, "do you really need me any longer? Our arrangement was for your journey home, no more."

Adele looked across the table at her, an odd expression in her dark eyes.

"Are you saying you want to leave?" she asked.

"No. I just thought you might be—"

"Feeling sorry for you?" Adele suggested. "Well, I'm not I think you are like most of the young girls of your admirable generation. You can. take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean to say that you are infallible in your judgment when it comes to doing the right thing at the right time. There is at least another three weeks' work for you here, if you wish to take it You've seen the accumulated pile of letters I have to deal with and you know how slowly I work." She sat down in her chair by the window. "Why are you so anxious to go away, Elizabeth?" she asked.

"I'm not," Elizabeth confessed. "I was just trying to be practical. There would be no point in you continuing to employ me if you didn't really need my help,"

"Let me be the best judge of that, if you please," Adele said in her best businesslike manner. "We will start with these letters from Edinburgh. I hate lawyers' communications," she added brightly. "They generally mean complications that one could very well do without"

They worked for two hours, considerably reducing the pile of correspondence which had accumulated in her absence, and then Mrs. Abercrombie dismissed her secretary-companion with a few brief instructions.

"Have your lunch with Jenny and let her take you on a tour of the estate," she commanded. "You both like to walk, but if you are still anxious to ride go and see Natalie. She may even be flattered by your interest," she added slowly.

It was difficult for Elizabeth to imagine that anyone could placate Natalie, and she certainly would not stoop to flattery to curry favour with someone she disliked instinctively. The naked antagonism in the older girl's eyes had not been a figment of her own imagination; it had been there, stark and real for her to see, and Natalie made no pretence of friendship when they finally met Jenny had jumped at the idea of a tour round the estate and their first call had been to the Murdochs' cottage at the main gates. The grieve and his wife had entertained them in their tiny sitting-room and afterwards Jenny had taken her to see some of the little wooden animals she had made. She worked in a small outhouse, gathering oddly-shaped pieces of wood and bits of stone off the hillside which she fashioned into the creatures of her fancy, using a chisel and a small clamp when she found it impossible to hold them with her injured hand. They were amazingly true to life. Jenny's unerring eye had produced tiny mice and lively squirrels and fierce backwards-looking stoats, together with a variety of birds which ranged from a brooding heron poised on one leg to a perky robin with beady, inquisitive eyes.

"This is an hearg!" she announced, holding up her latest effort for Elizabeth's inspection. "The Rain Goose. Do you know about him? He walks beside the loch when there's a storm coming. I often see him, and I think he's very beautiful. You can have him when he's finished, if you really want him," she added, aware of Elizabeth's admiration. "I don't always want to sell what I make."

"If you give them all away you won't have anything left for the craft shop," Elizabeth pointed out.

"That's true, but I don't really give many away," Jenny said. "Only to people who will appreciate them. You see, they are something I care about, something that's part of me. It's like giving away your heart You must be very sure first, otherwise you're apt to get hurt."

"Yes, I know," Elizabeth agreed. "I'll take great care of the Rain Goose, Jenny."

They walked through the gardens towards the hill where they could see the chimneys of Windy Brae through the trees.

"Do you want to see the ponies?" Jenny asked.

Elizabeth hesitated.

"Natalie won't be at the stables," said Jenny. "They're quite a way from the cottage. Really, they are part of Kilchoan, but Natalie has the use of them. She's always been crazy about horses, so it was the obvious thing for her to do when we had to leave the farm. It makes her feel independent."

Apart from the free use of the Kilchoan stables, Elizabeth mused, knowing full well what Natalie Hodge would feel about being indebted to anyone. If her older sister had married into the Abercrombie family it would have been quite different, of course, but to accept what could easily be called charity was a humbling experience.

They approached the stable block through a stone archway set in the high, surrounding wall and all at once Natalie was there. She had been grooming a horse and she stiffened perceptibly when she heard their voices, turning slowly with the curry-comb in her hand.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Grand'mere thought Elizabeth should be shown round and I thought she might like to see the ponies," Jenny explained lightly. "We were heading this way, so we looked in. I had no idea you would be here," she added, "but don't let us stop you if you're busy. We're really on our way up the glen."

Natalie returned to her grooming.

"I'm glad someone has time to spare," she remarked unpleasantly, "but so long as you don't want a horse to ride you can please yourself."

"Are you completely booked up?" Jenny asked. "With riding lessons, I mean."

"More or less." Natalie kept her back turned. "The Boyes children are at the hotel for two week? and the trekking ponies will be going down at the end of the month."

"Which leaves Randy," Jenny mused. "He might be a bit big for Elizabeth."

Her sister laughed.

"She could always try to ride him," she said with an edge of contempt in her voice. "Australians can do anything with horses, I understand."

"Not this Australian," Elizabeth hastened to assure her, "I'm no expert, but I've trekked at home and loved it. All the same, if you don't want to risk one of your horses I wouldn't dream of insisting."

"Grand'mere wants her to have a horse," Jenny interrupted tactlessly. "After all, some of them belong to Charles."

A slow flush mantled Natalie's cheeks.

"I'm well aware of the humiliating fact," she returned icily. "I make money out of other people's property, but one day I hope to have a string of my own, and my own stables."

"Oh, dear!" Jenny murmured as she turned away. "I do seem to aggravate my sister by saying the wrong thing all the time. Natalie hates to be reminded how dependent we are on the Abercrombies when we're not even related to them. It would have been different if Charles and Claire had married," she ran on. "Then he would have been family and Nat wouldn't have minded so much. As things are, she feels that everything Charles and Mrs. Abercrombie does for us is done because of that dreadful accident, and it isn't, really. It's just that they're essentially kind people and my mother and Grand'mere were very close. They were both very, very generous."

She led the way along the line of loose-boxes, admiring the ponies, while Natalie scowled at them from the far end of the yard.

"Let's go," she said, at last. "I hate to feel de trop, as Grand'mere would say."

"I wouldn't like to get in your sister's way," Elizabeth confessed as they went up the glen. "Somehow I feel that she resents me being here."

"She has nothing to do with Kilchoan; she has no right to make you feel unwanted," said Jenny. "She's just—rather jealous, I think. Jealous of everybody," she concluded.

"There's no reason why she should be," Elizabeth said. "She appears to have a very thriving business on her hands."

"She only had one pony to start with," Jenny explained. "Charles bought the others, but gradually she has paid him back. The fact that she doesn't own them all rankles a bit because she is so terribly anxious to be independent. I agree with her up to a point," she sighed, "but she really ought to be more grateful to Charles. He doesn't resent anything he does for us—because of Claire. I don't think he'll ever forget her," she added. "She was a truly wonderful person."

Elizabeth allowed the remark to fall into a deepening silence, thinking of Claire and Charles's love for her. Quite apart from a younger sister's genuine admiration, Jenny knew that Claire had been exceptional, probably looking to her for guidance most of her life. Yet, when things had gone really wrong for her, Claire had not been there to help and she had turned to Adele Abercrombie instead. Adele and Charles. Which meant that Jenny could be half in love with Charles without realising the fact. And it was a fact which Natalie's sharper perception recognised and wanted to further.

They finished their tour of the glen, walking down the narrow road beside a swift-flowing burn where the water gushed over rocks, eddying into deep brown pools which were a fisherman's paradise. Hazel and birch and rowan crowded the steep banks on either side, but here and there they came upon a small clearing where the rocks were steep but accessible, brooding over silent pools.

"This is Grand'mere's special place," Jenny announced at one of them. "She comes here often and rarely goes home without a fish. She is a remarkable old lady, Elizabeth. She never gives up,"

"Isn't it rather dangerous for her, coming here alone ?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, I'm generally with her," Jenny assured her. "I can't fish—at least, not very well—and secretly I don't like it. I hate to see the poor things struggling on the end of a hook and never winning."

"Surely there are the odd ones that get away!"

"Not from Grand'mere!" Jenny laughed. "Well, very rarely. She plays them as if her life depended on it, holding on like grim death because she's so determined. If she hooks a big one she'll play it till one or other of them is exhausted. She's very strong, you know. Not just strong-willed, but strong physically, too."

Jenny's admiration for her benefactress was complete. Probably her own crippled state had something to do with it, because she seemed to accept strength as perfection, although Elizabeth could imagine her standing up to Natalie if she considered it necessary.

They strolled back to the house, arriving in time for tea.

"I'm going fishing tomorrow," Mrs. Abercrombie informed them. "You can both come with me, if you like. We'll start out early in the morning."

Elizabeth mentioned the pile of letters waiting to be typed.

"We can deal with diem on Wednesday and you and Jenny can post them in Callender on Thursday afternoon when you go shopping. Murdoch will take you."

"Can't you come?" Jenny asked.

"Not if I fish again on Friday," Adele decided. "I've neglected the village long enough, so I must have the church ladies to tea on Thursday."

The pattern of the week was set, the week of Charles's absence. Wondering if he really meant to return at the week-end, Elizabeth fell in with the ways of his grandmother's household, working when Mrs. Abercrombie needed her and sitting with one of Jenny's sketching-blocks on her knees the following afternoon while Adele stood in the shallow water in her favourite fishing spot, casting her line in vain that first day. Jenny painted in fits and starts, her easel balanced between two sheltering rocks, but Elizabeth was finding a certain amount of difficulty with perspective and was slow to learn.

On the Thursday afternoon James Murdoch brought the car to the front door.

"Don't forget the fruit," Adele called as they drove away. "Oranges and apples, and grapes if they have any."

They had seen very little of Natalie during the week and when they passed her on the main road leading a string of ponies she gave them no more than a brief wave of her hand which seemed to dismiss them.

"She's on her way to the hotel," Jenny explained. "There are four children there just now on holiday. They come every year and Nat has taught them all to ride."

Her sister disappeared over the horizon, leading the ponies to their destination, and Elizabeth settled back in the car to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon.

Jenny was an ideal guide.

"We go right through the Trossachs," she explained, naming the great mountains ahead of them as they journeyed northwards. "Loch Katrine is over there, and one day we must take you to the Goblin's Cave, if Charles will drive us. Murdoch goes straight to Callender and straight back," she whispered. "He has absolutely no imagination!"

Elizabeth was in her dement as they drove among the hills on a wide road skirting Loch Achray and deep, lovely Venachar before they finally came to their destination.

Callender delighted her with its wide main street and beautiful shops where they browsed contentedly for an hour after they had placed Mrs. Abercrombie's order at the grocer's.

"Instead of tea, let's have some ice-cream," Jenny suggested. "I'm really quite silly about it, and I know a super place where we can have it with raspberry sauce."

In a good many ways Jenny was still a child, and they sat over their ices until Murdoch returned with the car.

"I've picked up the messages," he told them, "so it's home again as soon as you're ready."

Jenny grinned at Elizabeth.

"What did I tell you?" she asked.

They did, however, drive back by another road, past the Lake of Menteith.

"The only lake in the whole of Scotland!" Jenny told her.

Nearing Kilchoan they saw the string of ponies again, with Natalie leading them, but this time a tall, broad-shouldered man was walking beside her. Murdoch put the car into second gear, coming up behind them, and Natalie turned, her face dark as thunder.

"She seemed angry," Elizabeth observed.

"She was furious," Jenny answered. "That was Will Beatty with her. She pretends to despise Will, but I've seen her walking with him before. He knows a lot about horses, but nobody expects Nat to take his advice."

"He's a good grieve," Murdoch observed from the front seat. "Your sister would do well to listen to him occasionally."

Jenny considered the bluntly-offered opinion.

"I guess you're right," she said. "As a matter of fact, I like Will very much. I wonder if he'll stay at Kilchoan."

"Not if he can get a promotion elsewhere, and I'm thinking that might not be long in coming." Murdoch put the car to the hill. "He won't stay second-in-command for ever, I'm sure."

The church ladies had departed by the time they reached Kilchoan, but the dinner-time conversation centred around their activities till Mrs. Abercrombie announced:

"I had a phone call from Charles this afternoon. He's coming for the week-end."

Elizabeth's heart seemed to miss a beat, although Charles's name was always in the forefront of her mind.

"That will put paid to your fishing expedition," Jenny suggested.

"Au contraire!" declared Adele. 'It will make it all the more necessary. We will bring in a nice salmon for his dinner."

Jenny glanced in Elizabeth's direction.

"Do you like salmon?" she asked.

"I've never tasted one from a Scottish river."

"Thai it's time you had," Adele declared. "Charles more or less expects it to be on the menu when he comes home."

They set out the following morning, suitably equipped for the occasion. Jenny, who had decided to paint, stowed her easel in the back of the car, adding her sketching-block for Elizabeth, while Mrs. Abercrombie appeared in a woollen track-suit over which she wore a leather jerkin and a waterproof jacket. Her waders and fishing tackle went in beside Jenny's easel.

Murdoch drove them half way up the glen to the spot on the river bank where Adele liked to fish.

"We've got sandwiches and a flask," she told him. "You can come back for us at four o'clock."

"You won't be fishing late?" he enquired.

"No. If I haven't landed something worth while by four o'clock I'll give up."

"I'll be taking the car down to the station," he reminded her.

"You can collect us on your way back."

Murdoch nodded.

"See and have a good day," he said. "There's a nice light."

Jenny set up her easel while Mrs. Abercrombie struggled into her waders. She would be standing thigh-deep in the water all morning and had to be sure that she would be warm.

"A cold fisherman never has any luck!" she smiled, her eyes alight with enthusiasm for a lifetime's hobby. "Get a rug over your knees, Jenny, if you're going to paint for any length of time," she added. "You, too, Elizabeth."

"I'm not very good." Elizabeth sat down on the travelling-rug which Jenny had spread for her, "I'm willing to try, though."

"The spirit is the main thing," said Jenny.

Mrs. Abercrombie waded upstream and Jenny unfolded the little canvas stool which she used as her easel.

"We'll both do the same landscape," she suggested, "then we can criticise each other. It's the best way, but you'll have to be absolutely candid. No hurt feelings either way."

"I'm not easily hurt, Jenny."

It wasn't true, Elizabeth thought. She had been so easily hurt by Charles, although he hadn't given her the slightest reason to suppose he could ever love her. What was in a kiss, lightly given? It had been the product of the night, part of the magic of Hawaii, which was to be quickly forgotten because she had no place in his scheme of things. Natalie had been quite blunt about it. "There isn't any room for you at Kilchoan," she had declared. "We're a tightly-knit unit here—a family, I could say— and Charles hasn't time for any extra hangers-on."

Was that what she was becoming by staying on as the unnecessary companion to an old lady who had taken an odd fancy to her? There were sudden, bitter tears in her eyes as she tried to focus on the hills above the bum which Jenny had already transferred to her canvas.

"Don't hesitate too long," Jenny advised, looking over her shoulder. "Go straight at it—what you see. First impressions are so often best."

They worked until twelve o'clock, when they realised how stiff they had become sitting for so long in the same position. Jenny looked down at Elizabeth's effort.

"Not too bad," she decided. "You've got the flow of it. Perhaps your hills are a wee bit conical, but you can easily correct that as you go along."

"While you just put on colour and there they are!"

"I've had a lot of practice these past two years."

They looked around for Mrs. Abercrombie.

"There she is, up at the top pool," said Jenny. "I bet she hasn't caught anything."

"She'll be disappointed if she hasn't."

The old lady came clambering along the bank, defying her age.

"Not so much as a nibble!" she announced disgustedly. "And it's a perfect day."

The light was not too strong, so there was no reason why she should not have been successful. Jenny brought the picnic basket, spreading its contents on the smooth surface of the rocks.

"I'll try farther up," Adele decided. "There's quite a lot of water over the falls and it may be disturbing the fish." She bit hungrily into a sandwich. "Food tastes much better in the open air," she mused. "I wonder how many picnics I've had in my lifetime. In France we used to go out along the Dordogne and picnic near the hills. Sometimes we used to go as far as Limoges. In those days there weren't so many cars about and we had the side roads almost to ourselves. Now," she reflected, "one has to be like a mountain goat to leap on to a bank while the traffic whizzes past!"

"Not up here," said Elizabeth. "It's a wonderful place for walking."

They finished their lunch, drinking a final cup of coffee before they returned to their respective activities.

"I'm hoping to finish this," Jenny said, looking critically at her painting. "Do you think Charles will like it, Grand'mere? It's for him."

Adele took a full minute to answer her while she considered the effort Jenny had made, mostly with her left hand.

"Did he ask for it?" she asked, at last.

"He wanted a picture for his office," Jenny explained. "He said it would be nice to get a glimpse of blue skies instead of a horizon full of cranes and half-built ships."

"Which is pure humbug!" Adele declared. "Nowhere in the world can you see shipyards with such a background as on the Clyde. From the office window Charles can see nothing but hills."

"Perhaps he was just trying to be kind," Jenny said flatly. "To encourage me."

"You've had all the encouragement you need," Adele told her. "Your brush work is excellent, and provided you don't go Cubist or something equally bizarre you should do very well." She stooped to pull her waders up over her thighs. "Now, I must be off," she announced. "I'll try the rock pool above the falls."

"I'd come with you, but I'd like to finish this," Jenny said.

"I don't need a watchdog," Adele answered briskly. "Are you going to finish your sketch, Elizabeth?"

"I thought I'd take a walk first"

"Sensible!" Adele agreed. "Don't go too far."

She splashed away, her rod over her shoulder, gaff and basket at her hip.

"She is a remarkable person," Elizabeth said.

"If you walk up the glen," Jenny advised, "keep to the main path. Some of the others don't lead anywhere. They're just sheep tracks."

"I'll remember!"

Elizabeth climbed up the bank to be met by the sharp wind from the moor. The sky was overcast, but there was still a width of vista which delighted her as she looked down to the smooth water of the lochan and Kilchoan's tall chimneys rising above the pines. Beyond the house she could see the mist-shrouded peaks which Jenny had named for her—Gualann and the mountains crowding around Ben Venue, while away to the west Ben Lomond seemed to touch the sky. Her mother's mountain!

I love it, she thought; I'll never be able to forget all this and the fact that it was Charles who brought me here. Her heart contracted at the thought as she climbed rapidly upwards, keeping faithfully to the narrow road, as Jenny had advised. Soon she was at the summit of yet another hill and she decided to turn back. She had come quite a long way in the past hour and it was time to rejoin the others.

Going downhill she could see the tops of the trees along the burn, the rowans with their white flowers displayed against the darker green of the hazel, and the ash and oak coming into bud. Pine and larch and spruce crowded each other on the far bank, marching through the glen in all the splendour of their varying greens, and between them the lochan lay, a long shimmer of greying light, with Kilchoan standing peacefully at its head. Even on a sunless day such as this there was a beauty in everything she saw, the magic her mother had spoken of long ago.

Before she reached the trees she stopped to listen to the sound of the waterfall. It came down between two gigantic rocks, spilling back into the river bed with a majestic roar, like a liberated giant, but farther down she was suddenly aware of another sound. It came up to her from the dark water between the first and second fall, a faint cry which she took for the distress signal of a bird. Then, suddenly, she knew that the cry was a human one. Someone was calling for help.

Jenny! She began to run, leaving the road and plunging into the rough grass and heather which went down to the burn, her thoughts racing ahead of her to the scene of calamity. Supposing Jenny was hurt? Supposing she had left her easel to climb down to the water's edge and had slipped and fallen, unable to support herself with hear injured arm?

She saw her almost immediately, crouched over the water where giant rocks made a deep, swirling pool which was finally sucked into the racing torrent of the lower falls. Jenny seemed to be completely immobile and she had ceased to call for help. She was like someone frozen in horror, gazing helplessly down at what she saw beneath her.

Elizabeth plunged down the bank, slipping and slithering in the mud. her hands lacerated by the vicious trails of brambles which lay across her path.

"Jenny, hold on!" she cried, realising what had happened in a split-second of horror. "Can you keep her head up? Try—try as hard as you can!"

Beneath them, in the water, Mrs. Abercrombie lay unconscious, her rod and line completely gone.

Jenny let her breath out as Elizabeth reached her side.

"I thought you would never come," she gasped. "I thought I would have to let her go."

"But you didn't!" Elizabeth went down into the water, taking the full weight of her employer into her arms. "Stay on the bank and help me to lift her."

Even in that first moment of desperation she was aware of Jenny using both her hands in the amazing effort she had made. She had clung to Adele for goodness knows how long and her injured hand had answered their need.

"I was coming along the bank and she was playing this enormous fish," Jenny gasped. "Suddenly she turned—perhaps I made a noise—I don't know. She turned to look at me and then it happened."

"Don't talk," Elizabeth commanded. "Just do as I say, Jenny. You'll have to take most of the weight for a moment while I ease her on to the bank."

"Is she dead?" Jenny whispered beneath her breath. "I couldn't bear it is she is!"

"No," said Elizabeth, swinging Mrs. Abercrombie's wader-clad legs on to the bank. "Don't bother to speak, Jenny; just pull her clear of the water, if you can."

She could feel the swirl of the burn round her own waist, pulling her away, but it was no time to consider personal danger. With one final, frantic effort they eased Adele clear, laying her on the bank in her sodden garments, her face upturned to the leaden sky.

"She's alive all right!" The words were a gasp of relief as Elizabeth felt the faint pulse-beat on her employer's wrist. "We must carry her farther up the bank and then get help. What happened ?

"The fish took' the line away, but she held on. She held on like grim death, not wanting to let it go. It was the biggest salmon I've ever seen and she'd probably been playing it for a long time, but she hadn't the strength to land it. Then the line caught on something and broke. Grand'mere wasn't ready for it and she went over backwards into the water. She must have caught her head on a rock."

"Help me to lift her."

Jenny was shaking all over now, looking down at her injured arm for the first time.

"I used it, Elizabeth!" she cried in disbelief. "I used it to keep Grand'mere out of the water!"

"You saved her from drowning," Elizabeth said quietly. "If you hadn't been here, Jenny, she would have gone down over the falls."

"I can't think about it." Jenny was chafing Adele's hands, endeavouring to warm them between her own. "What can we do now? What can we possibly do? It's miles and miles to Kilchoan."

Elizabeth, glanced at her watch.

"It's almost four o'clock," she said. "Jenny, if you run as fast as you can to the road end you can intercept Murdoch with the car. It's our only chance," she insisted as the younger girl drew closer to the inert figure on the grass. "We couldn't possibly carry her all the way to Kilchoan."

"I could go across the moor," Jenny offered. "There's a path we use with the ponies."

"Whichever is quicker," Elizabeth agreed. "Could you bring me one of the flasks before you go? There's one with some coffee still left in it." She took Mrs. Abercrombie's head on to her knees. "I might be able to bring her round even before you get back with Murdoch."

Jenny returned with the flask, which was half full of coffee.

"Are you all right, Elizabeth?" she asked anxiously. "You're soaked through."

"Don't worry about me. I've been drenched before," Elizabeth said, "I'm glad you brought the rug."

They eased the tartan travelling-rug under Adele's head and Jenny rushed away, but it was many minutes before there was any spontaneous movement from the prone figure on the grass. Adele stirred and groaned, making an effort to sip the coffee which Elizabeth held to her lips.

"Not too fast," Elizabeth cautioned. "You'll feel it warming you through in a moment."

Adele's eyes opened, regarding her hazily until a look of absolute horror broke in them.

"It got away!" she whispered. "That magnificent monster got clean away from me!"

"And left you with a cracked skull, maybe!"

Adele put a shaky hand to her head.

"I don't crack easily," she said, "but it does ache a bit"

Almost immediately she sank back into unconsciousness, and for the next half-hour Elizabeth did her best to keep her warm, wrapping the travelling-rug more securely round her and trying to shield her from the wind. They were still well down the bank and, mercifully, it didn't rain.

When she finally heard the sound of the car on the road above them she could have cried for joy. Jenny had managed to intercept Murdoch and had brought him back in time.

It was Charles who slid down the bank towards them. The unexpectedness of his coming unnerved her for a moment and she could only look at him with mute entreaty as he bent over his grandmother.

"Are you all right?" he asked sharply. "You look as if you've been in the water."

"I'm all right," she assured him. "Look after Grand'mere," the word slipped out without her noticing. "She's been conscious. If only we can get her home, Charles."

He lifted the old lady into his arms.

"Stay where you are," he ordered. "I'll come back."

When he had gone Elizabeth struggled to her feet, realising for the first time how cold she was. Her wet skirt clung to her knees and her feet squelched in her boots as she attempted to climb the bank in spite of Charles's order. She could hear Murdoch's voice on the road above her, and Jenny answering a question, and then Charles was beside her again, lifting her as easily as he had lifted his grandmother. She felt his arms about her and the touch of rough tweed against her cheek, and it was as if they were back in Waikiki on the beach in gentle moonlight and the time between was no more than an unpleasant dream.

He put her into the back of the car beside Jenny and Adele, driving the remaining distance to Kilchoan as swiftly as the winding road would permit. The old lady opened her eyes again as they reached the door.

"I let that fish get away," she said hazily. "He was the biggest one I've ever seen."

"The ones that get away generally are!" Charles was searching her face for possible injury. "You'll never learn, will you? Some fish just can't be played the way you want them, however experienced you are."

"You could be right." She closed her eyes. "But measuring one's strength with a worthy adversary is worth the effort, don't you think? Where is Elizabeth?" she added sharply. "She helped Jenny to get me out of the water."

"She's there, on the doorstep," said Charles. "I'm going to send her straight to bed."

Adele smiled.

"Come with me, Jenny," she said.

Elizabeth was still standing on the doorstep when Charles reached her.

"Straight upstairs," he ordered, "and into a hot bath. I'll get Mrs. Murdoch."

"Please, Charles," she begged, "don't worry about me. I'll be all right."

"Will you?" He took her firmly by the arm. "Your teeth are chattering, so this is one time you must do as I say."

"Your grandmother—"

"She'll be all right. We'll get her to bed and give her a brandy till Doctor Cummings gets here. He can have a look at you, too," he added. "It's early in the year to go swimming in the burn!"

"Oh, Charles!" She tried to smile. "It could have been serious. It might still be," she added anxiously.

"I don't think so. Grand'mere looks as bright as a new penny for some reason or other. You'd almost think she had caught that fish!"

"Charles." Elizabeth hesitated. "It was really Jenny who saved your grandmother. I heard her cry out and when I got to the bank she was holding Mrs. Abercrombie out of the water—holding on with both hands. I couldn't believe it when I first saw the effort she had made. Don't you see it means that Jenny can use that injured arm. She's been saving it subconsciously up till now, but when the test came she used it automatically."

"It's incredible."

"It's true," she said. "It's almost a miracle."

"It's staggering," he confessed. "Something that will ~ take a lot of thinking about."

Elizabeth made her way upstairs, followed after several minutes by Mrs. Murdoch.

"You'll get right into a hot bath," Effie insisted, "and then into your bed."

"Oh, Mrs. Murdoch, I'm not ill!" Elizabeth protested, realising that she was about to miss an evening in Charles's company. "I'll be fine after I've had a bath."

"You haven't got much choice in the matter," said Effie. "It's an order from Mr. Charles, so you'll be obeying it without so much as a murmur."

The doctor had arrived by the time Elizabeth got out of the bath.

"I'll take a look at you," he offered, "but I don't think you will be any the worse for your dip in the burn, Miss Drummond. It's lucky you were there, though. Mrs. Abercrombie could easily have drowned."

"Not while Jenny was around," Elizabeth said. "She held her above the water with both hands, Doctor Cummings!"

"I've had a look at Jenny," said David Cummings, "and this is something of a revelation. I've seen it happen before, of course, and Jenny had been exercising her arm regularly, I believe. Yes, I'm delighted," he agreed. "She could have the full use of that hand before very long, with a complete return of her confidence into the bargain."

"Can you tell me about Mrs. Abercrombie?" Elizabeth asked. "I hope she didn't suffer any serious injury."

"She has a bump on her head, which caused a slight, temporary concussion, but that's all. She'll be as right as rain in a couple of days. Just you wait and see!"

"I'm glad. She's such a marvellous old lady."

"Don't let her hear you say that," David Cummings laughed. " 'Old' is a word she never uses about herself, and now she's just plain mad about the whole incident. You know what she's like, I suppose. She just wouldn't let go. No fish that size was going to get the better of an indomitable Frenchwoman who's half a Scot!"

"I'm sure you're right," Elizabeth smiled, settling down between the sheets.

In a few minutes the door opened and Charles came in with a glass in his hand.

"You're to drink this," he informed her. "Doctor Cummings's orders, not mine."

She took the glass from him, aware that her hands were trembling.

"Cold?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"It could be retarded shock," she laughed. "Seriously, though," she added, "I wish it hadn't happened except —that Jenny must feel as if the world is going round for her again."

"Yes." He walked to the window, his back turned towards her. "It will make a great difference to her."

What was he thinking? If his responsibility to Jenny was almost at an end was he regretting the fact because he had fallen in love with impulsive, lovable Jenny in the meantime and wanted to marry her, keeping her here, at Kilchoan, beside him?

Elizabeth's heart contracted at the thought of these two marrying quite soon, yet she could not grudge Jenny this happiness when she had already endured so much.

When she had emptied the glass he took it from her, their hands touching for a brief moment. Charles turned away.

"Don't attempt to get up," he admonished sternly. "You could quite easily catch pneumonia after your little episode along the burn. I want to thank you, Elizabeth," he added more seriously, "for what you did for my grandmother this afternoon. She's gone to bed with a hot toddy and Jenny to look after her and swears she'll be as good as new in the morning. Doctor Cummings appears to agree with her, too."

"I'm glad," said Elizabeth. "It was quite a homecoming for you, Charles, and she meant to bring you that fish. She was determined to catch one for your evening meal."

'That's chiefly what's wrong around here," he said. "Too much determination. When it comes down to fundamentals, we're a pretty self-willed lot, hardly ever ready to accept advice. Willing to give it, though," he added. "I once gave Jason a piece of advice, which I now regret, but at the time someone was needed in Sydney and he went there. It was a question of Abercrombie's against all else, I suppose."

"Is that all you really care about, Charles?" she heard herself asking with a kind of horror. "What happens to the firm? You think about it all the time, or so it seems. You're Abercrombie's and nothing else."

His eyes lashed hear with scorn as he stood beside the bed, looking down at her as if he would like to shake her.

"You don't seem able to make up your mind," he said distantly. "One minute I'm 'almost human' while the next I'm 'Abercrombie's and nothing else'. When you've come to your final decision, no doubt you'll tell me."

He turned on his heel and went out without giving her time to protest or even to apologise, and Elizabeth lay staring blankly at the ceiling, thinking how dreadfully she had mismanaged her effort at conciliation. She had wanted Charles to trust her, at least, and he had told her that she couldn't even make up her own mind.

Alone in the darkening room, with the glory of a spring sunset painting the hills and loch a vivid red and all the clouds drawn down to the horizon, she knew how difficult it would be for her to say goodbye to Kilchoan, but quite soon that would be what she would have to do. When all Mrs. Abercrombie's accumulation of correspondence was seen to there would be no further need for her services as a secretary, and already Jenny had taken over the -companion part. I can't be another 'lame duck', she decided, remembering Charles's scathing comment when they had first met I can't go on living at Kilchoan against his will, even if his grandmother wishes it.

Obeying his command, she lay very still between the sheets, willing herself not to take pneumonia and feeling the effect of the warming drink he had brought her like fire in her veins. I can't be ill so that I have to stay here, was her last conscious thought before she fell asleep.

CHAPTER NINE

"WE'VE come to the conclusion that you're cheating!" Jenny announced, standing beside the bed two days later. "You have no temperature worth mentioning now and your pulse is quite normal, or so Doctor Cummings says."

"Jenny!" Elizabeth raised herself on one elbow, feeling weak and utterly miserable. "What's been going on? What day is it, and why don't I remember a single thing since—since Charles brought me that awful concoction and forced me to drink it?"

"One question at a time!" Jenny smiled down at her with a new excitement in her eyes. "First of all, you've been pretty ill and we've all been desperately worried about you. That ducking in the burn didn't do you a bit of good, especially as you sat around in your wet clothes afterwards without moving."

"So did Mrs. Abercrombie!"

"Grand'mere is a law unto herself," Jenny declared. "She's absolutely different For one thing, she's as tough as an old hazelnut and she has a tremendous will. Even germs quail before her glittering eye and the common cold skulks off into the nearest corner! Shell have no truck with them, but apparently you were a sitting duck, having come all the way from a warm climate. You just hadn't time to get used to our Scottish way of life, so you went down before pneumonia like a ton of bricks and before we even had time to say 'thank you for everything'."

"Charles tried to," Elizabeth murmured, expecting that Charles had returned to Glasgow by this time, "but it was you who did everything, Jenny. If you hadn't held Mrs. Abercrombie out of the water she would have drowned."

"And if you hadn't been there we might both have drowned," Jenny said more seriously. "It was a joint effort, Elizabeth, and everyone is terribly in your debt." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I feel it more than the others," she confessed. "You see, I know I wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer. I was doing it subconsciously, but I think, once I'd realised I was using my 'useless' hand, I might easily have panicked and let go."

"But you didn't," said Elizabeth, "and now you know that you'll be able to use it fully, in time."

"That's what makes everything so wonderful," Jenny admitted. "I'm not 'poor little Jenny' any more, Elizabeth. I'm a new person, the kind of person I was before it all happened, someone to be loved and not just 'cared for' because I was the unfortunate victim of an accident I'm my true self once more, and I can't begin to tell you how happy it makes me feel."

The brightness in her face, the shining expression in her eyes, must point to only one conclusion, Elizabeth thought Jenny, who had fallen in love with Charles because he had been so kind, now found herself beloved.

"It's the warmest thing in the world, being in love," Jenny went on. "I've always known it, but when I was so badly injured after the accident' I turned away from everything. I saw only pity, and pity was the one thing I didn't want I even tried to push Grand'mere aside at first, but she wouldn't let me. She brought me here and took me under her wing, and I'm so glad—so very glad I didn't turn away!"

Unable to bear the utter joy in the younger girl's eyes, Elizabeth asked about her employer.

"Are you sure she didn't suffer any ill effect from her accident?" she asked. "We lay on the bank for almost an hour before Charles came."

"She's perfectly well," Jenny assured her. "The sun has been shining all day and she's been gardening. She wants masses and masses of nasturtiums and calendulas along the rockery walls, and night-scented stock on the terrace so that the wind will waft the scent of it into the sitting-room in the evening when the sun goes down. She sits there a lot while she's at Kilchoan, you know, although I've a notion that she might be half-way across the world before the marigolds are in bloom."

"Do you mean that she may go back to Australia?"

Jenny nodded.

"Back to Hawaii, anyway. She had a letter from Henri Duroc's lawyers this morning asking what she means to do about the plantation and she thinks the details might best be worked out on the spot. That means Maui. Think of it, Elizabeth. A trip to a wonderful Pacific island half way between here and Australia!"

"You would go with her this time?"

Jenny hesitated, a brief shadow appearing in her eyes for a moment.

"If everything else turns out as I hope," she answered.

Oh, Jenny, Elizabeth thought, the world is turning very bright for you and all your dreams are coming true!

"I must go," Jenny said. "There's so much to do. I've seen Doctor Cummings again and he's over the moon about the power coming back into my arm. Of course, I have to see the specialist again, but Charles is coming to take me to Glasgow on Friday. I'll have to do masses of exercises, I expect, but that won't bother me at all."

"Natalie must be very pleased," said Elizabeth.

Jenny took a long time to answer.

"She doesn't know," she said abruptly. "Not yet. I'll have to tell her, of course, before Charles takes me to Glasgow. She knows you pulled me out of the water, but that's all. Nat lives a life of her own up there at Windy Brae and she doesn't really worry about me so long as I'm here with the Abercrombies. It sort of halves her responsibility, you see, knowing that Grand'mere and Charles are around to take care of me."

Especially Charles, Elizabeth thought; and now everything could be coming right for Natalie, too. She wanted Jenny to marry Charles, to be the young mistress of Kilchoan, so that she might bask in her sister's reflected glory and retain her use of the stabling for as long as she wished. Horses were her true passion, but they were also her livelihood, and she would go to any lengths to keep them.

Jenny paused on her way to the door.

'You can get up tomorrow," she said, "for an hour, at least The house seems deserted without you."

It was easy enough for Elizabeth to stay in bed when she felt so weak, but altogether pleasant when she was allowed to go down to the sitting-room for a lengthening period each day. The one small cloud on her immediate horizon was the fact that Mrs. Abercrombie would not allow her to work.

"There's plenty of time for that," she declared. "I've answered all the essential letters and Charles has taken diem to the office to be typed. Jenny's a tremendous help, too," she added thoughtfully, "now that she's almost her old self again."

"Mrs. Abercrombie—" Elizabeth began impulsively, but Adele held up a dismissive hand!

"No, I will not hear of your departure," she declared, "if that was what you were about to say. Surely you will allow me to take care of you for a few days when you did so much for me? It is not asking too much, I think. Then, when you are quite well again, you will be able to make your own decision."

"Thank you." Elizabeth's heart was vary full. "I should hate to become a nuisance."

"When you do that I shall tell you," Adele assured her. "Meantime, just get well."

"I feel quite fit enough to do a day's work sitting in a chair," Elizabeth told her. "Jenny says you may return to Maui."

"Enfant gate! She does not stop to think, that one,"

Adele declared. "One day I shall return, of course, but not until I am sure that my own affairs are in order. I have a great love for this place, Elizabeth," she added quietly. "I want to make sure that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

Jenny came in with the tea tray.

"I hope you're both terribly hungry," she said gaily. "Mrs. Murdoch has been baking all morning and I've managed a sponge cake. I suppose I ought to learn to cook."

It was more like a banquet than afternoon tea. There were small, neatly-cut sandwiches, and brown bread and butter, soda scones and pancakes, shortbread, and Jenny's much-heralded sponge.

"I can't cope!" Elizabeth laughed, spreading Kilchoan honey on her bread.

"Mrs. Murdoch believes in fattening everybody up," Jenny said, helping herself to a generous slice of cake. "She looks on us pretty much as her husband does on one of his prize heifers. Under nine stone and you're an emergency! How much do you suppose Effie weighs, Grand'mere?"

"I've never thought about it," Mrs. Abercrombie answered. "She has always looked just right to me, whereas you, Jenny, could do with an extra ounce or two. You're far too thin."

"I'll improve with keeping," Jenny told her cheerfully. "It could be all those exercises I have to do." Suddenly her voice faltered. "Do you think I'm going to be all right? On Friday, I mean."

"Certainly," Adele said a trifle sharply. "Doctor Cummings has made the appointment with the specialist and Charles will be there, so what can you possibly have to worry about?"

Jenny brightened perceptibly.

"I don't know what I would do without Charles—and you," she acknowledged.

"I hope to get you off my hands one of these days," Adele teased. "You had better cultivate Mrs. Murdoch and learn to cook more than a sponge cake, although I must admit this one is delicious." She bit into a slice of cake. "When you marry you should know all that goes on in a household and be able to do it, even if you have domestic help. I could cook reasonably well by the time I was eleven, but I did my household management course when I was older, just the same. Things are different now, I know, but it won't do you any harm to learn. I would like to see you married, Jenny," she added fondly. "I have many plans for you, ma petite."

"You old matchmaker!" Jenny chuckled, but there was a wistful look in her eyes as she poured them a second cup of tea.

"We have a visitor!" Adele announced, looking out of the side window.

"Natalie!" Jenny exclaimed. "Whatever can she want?"

"A cup of tea, to begin with," Adele suggested.

"She never drinks tea in the afternoon."

"She could try, for once."

"I'll go," Elizabeth offered, thinking that they might want a family conference.

"Sit where you are. I can't think what Natalie can possibly want at this hour of the day." Adele rose to greet her unexpected visitor. "Show her in, Jenny, and we'll soon find out"

There was a short pause while Jenny went to open the door.

"I've tried my best with that young woman," Adele mused, "but I get nowhere. I don't like to think her vicious, but she certainly likes her own way, and I've a fair idea that she would stop at nothing to achieve it People with ungovernable tempers are always difficult to handle."

Jenny reappeared, accompanied by her sister.

"Bonjour, Natalie," Mrs. Abercrombie greeted her. "Will you take some tea with us?"

"I thought you might have finished that futile little ritual by now," said Natalie, "but I will have a quick cup, since you ask."

Jenny went to infuse some fresh tea, apparently surprised by the unexpected decision.

"Please sit down," Adele invited. "I hate people to prowl around all the time."

Natalie had given Elizabeth one quick, distasteful glance when she had first come in, but now she turned towards her with a coldly quizzical look.

"You seem to have recovered," she observed. "Playing heroine appears to suit you."

Elizabeth flushed uncomfortably.

"One doesn't think of acting a part in an emergency," she submitted. "Jenny and Mrs. Abercrombie were both in difficulty and I did what I could to help."

"I suppose you mean because of Jenny's disability," Natalie said. "She is restricted, one has to admit."

"Not for very much longer!" Adele informed her. "Jenny used both hands to hold my head above the water, Natalie. I owe her—and Elizabeth—a tremendous debt of gratitude."

Natalie's brows came together in a deep frown.

"Perhaps you'll put me completely in the picture," she suggested. "After all, I am Jenny's sister."

"We would have explained everything to you before she went to Glasgow," Adele said. "It seems that she has more power in her arm now than the doctors thought possible at one time, and David Cummings holds out all sorts of exciting possibilities. She must see the specialist again before we can be absolutely sure, of course, but the facts are most encouraging."

Natalie sat tensed in her chair, chewing her lip, wondering what to say that would sound convincing.

"This will make a difference." The words seemed to be forced from her. "You won't have to feel under such an obligation if she does get well."

"We never felt obligated in the sense you mean," Adele returned. "Jenny made her home hare at my request, that was all. If Claire had lived, Jenny would have been a member of my family. You, also, Natalie, if you had wished."

"When Claire died we had very little choice," Natalie murmured. "What does Jenny intend to do now?" she asked sharply.

"We think it would be best to take one step at a time." Adele glanced towards the door. "Jenny will do whatever she sees fit, with my blessing."

Natalie gazed across the room to where Elizabeth sat, her eyes as incisive as cold steel. She wanted to say something cutting, Elizabeth realised, but felt that this might be the wrong moment to reveal her enmity.

"What are you doing at the stables?" Adele asked conversationally as Jenny appeared with the freshly-made tea. "Charles tells me that you have quite a good string of ponies there now. Are they selling well?"

"Reasonably well." The animosity and dissatisfaction faded from Natalie's eyes as she turned to discuss her hobby with her hostess. "I haven't sold very many because the trekking was so good last year and I'm fully booked up over Easter. After that, the hotel trade will keep me busy till the end of September, at least."

'You sound as if you might need some help," Adele suggested. "Have you approached Will Beatty?"

"Approached him?" Natalie's eyes narrowed. "Why should I ? He's your employee, Mrs. Abercrombie, whatever he might believe to the contrary."

Adele gave her a shrewd look.

"He's a man of ambition," she declared, "but a very honest one, and he knows all there is to know about horses."

"Which doesn't mean to say I need his help." Natalie set down her half-empty cup. "I came to see how you were," she added harshly, "not to discuss Will Beatty as a reliable partner for the future."

"N'importe!" Adele smiled. "It was no more than a passing thought, something which suddenly occurred to me, so we can forget about it, can we not? I dare say Will won't stay very long at Kilchoan, anyway."

Jenny looked upset.

"I wish Natalie wouldn't provoke those dreadful arguments," she remarked when her sister had taken her leave of them. "She always seems to be at cross purposes with everyone and everything."

"Since she doesn't visit us very often," Adele returned, "we can bear with her. I wish I really did know what she is going to do with her future."

"You told her about us going to Glasgow," Jenny said. "She would be quite relieved when she knew that Charles was taking me."

Adele nodded.

"Yes, she must have been," she said, seeing through another woman's diverse ways of getting Jenny and Charles married to suit her own purpose.

Charles returned to Kilchoan late on the Thursday afternoon and on Friday morning he drove Jenny back to the city to see the specialist who had dealt with her case after the accident. It must have renewed the whole tragic business for him once again, and Elizabeth noticed how drawn and tired he looked as they drove away.

"It's a wonderful day after all the rain we've had," Adele remarked when the car had disappeared from view. "Why don't you take a walk up the glen and enjoy the sun?"

"If you'll come, too," Elizabeth suggested.

"Why not?" Adele reached for her walking-stick. "It will do us both good."

When they had reached the end of the carriage drive she pulled up.

"Could we climb the hill, do you think?" she asked.

"I feel fit enough," Elizabeth told her. "How about you?"

"Me? I never felt better." Adele drew in a deep breath of the invigorating hill air. "There's nothing better than a west wind at this time of year."

They walked a short way up the glen, standing on a rise to look about them.

"We must make some plans for you, Elizabeth," Adele said.

Elizabeth's heart seemed to miss a beat, realising that she had to go some day, but if it had finally come to the parting of the ways at Mrs. Abercrombie's request she had certainly not been prepared for it.

"I know," she answered slowly. "I can't stay at Kilchoan for ever."

"You came to Scotland with a very firm objective in view," her employer reminded her. "To see something of your mothers country. How long is that going to take you?"

"I—haven't thought about it," Elizabeth was forced to confess. "Perhaps about six weeks. I've saved some money."

"Six weeks is far too long. You could do it in under a month, if you tried."

It was a very kind way of saying that her employment had come to an end.

"You could take three weeks' holiday and then return here." Adele paused on the narrow moor road. "Would that suit you?"

"You have Jenny," Elizabeth reminded her harshly. "I don't want you to feel that you owe me anything, Mrs. Abercrombie."

"Apart from my life." Adele walked on. "So we will not talk about it for the present, if you are in no great hurry to leave Kilchoan. April and May are the best months to see your mother's native land, Elizabeth. That was all I was trying to say."

"You're so very kind." Elizabeth could hardly trust her own voice. "No wonder Jenny adores you!"

"Jenny is a creature of impulse," Adele reflected. "Her affection is given spontaneously wherever she thinks it is needed. At one time she seemed to be in love with my grandson—with Jason—but she allowed him to go to Australia without trying to stop him and now she does not know what to do. Perhaps she has fallen out of love with him in the meantime," she sighed, "and there is someone else. Jason went off to Sydney because he was needed there, but Jenny thought it was because he could not bear to look at her after the accident. Even when he promised to come back one day she did not think he would."

"I wonder what's happening in Glasgow," Elizabeth said harshly.

Adele glanced at her watch.

"They should be on their way back by now," she said. "We will soon know."

They retraced their steps back down the glen and at the last bend in the road Elizabeth looked up at the open stretch of moor above them. Someone was watching them, a tall girl on a chestnut-coloured horse was leading a string of ponies along the bridle path which led through the heather. It was Natalie, and there was no doubt that what she saw must have displeased her. She sat quite still for several minutes, and then she spurred her mount into action, galloping swiftly across the moor in the direction of Windy Brae with the ponies strung out behind her.

Mrs. Abercrombie had been concentrating on the road ahead of diem where a stoat had crossed their path.

"You didn't see him," she said as Elizabeth rejoined her. "What a pity. They're such delightful little creatures and full of intelligence, but you have to be quick. Ah, here comes Jamie!" she added, greeting the grieve with a friendly smile. "He'll tell you more about them than I can."

James Murdoch came from the direction of the wood, his gun under his arm.

"I see Miss Hodge is in business with her ponies," he remarked. "Did she get the vet for the sickly one, do you know?"

"I understand Charles saw to it," Adele told him. "I hope the poor animal is going to be all right. She rides them rather hard, to my way of thinking, but I'm no horsewoman, as you know, Jamie."

"You could be all the better for that," he answered drily. "Are you well yourself, Miss Drummond?" he asked Elizabeth. "I hear you've been in your bed these past few days."

"I'm much better now, thank you," Elizabeth told him. "It's marvellous to be out and about again on a day like this!"

"You weren't missing much before," he said. "The wind was away round to the north and it was cold, but now we have a change for the better."

The wind, which had been boisterous at the head of the glen, had gone down a little.

"I've thoroughly enjoyed the blow," Elizabeth told him. "You expect a strong wind up on the moor."

" 'The west wind is an honest man'," Murdoch quoted with a twinkle in his eye. " 'He stays at home at night"!"

Mrs. Abercrombie looked amused.

"I've told Miss Drummond if she wants to know anything about the natural phenomena around here she must come to you," she declared. "She couldn't meet up with anyone more knowledgeable."

"Then," Murdoch' suggested, looking keenly at Elizabeth, "you will be staying for some time, Miss Drummond? I'm pleased to hear it," he added. "We could do with some more young people about the place."

"Jamie feels that I am getting did," Adele mused as they walked down the road, "and he's not sure that I have managed my family properly. He thinks that at least one of my grandsons should have married by now, preferably Charles."

"He may not have long to wait," Elizabeth murmured, to which remark Adele made no reply.

When they finally reached Kilchoan, Jenny and Charles had returned. One look at Jenny's radiant face was enough to tell them that the specialist had given them hope.

"It's going to be all right!" Jenny cried, flinging herself into Mrs. Abercrombie's arms. "Oh, Grand'mere, I'm so happy! I can't really tell you how happy I am."

"Ma chere!" Adele kissed her cheek. "This is a wonderful day for us all." She turned to her grandson. "What did the great man say, Charles? I gather he gave you lots of hope."

"More than I had expected." Charles led the way into the house. "Things aren't going to happen all at once, of course, since this isn't a miracle. It will be a gradual process, and Jenny must go on with her exercises, but in a month or two—even less—she should be using her arm again as if nothing had happened. Heavy weights are out, naturally, and so I'm afraid is horse riding, but that shouldn't be much of a price to pay for complete recovery."

"You know it isn't," Jenny said, "even though I would love to ride again." She turned to the silent Elizabeth. "What about you, Elizabeth?" she asked. "It would be fun for you exercising one of Charles's horses."

"Why not?" said Charles. "They're eating their heads off over there at the stables most of the time. Get Natalie to show you round. Tara would be a good mount for you. She's about the right size and as docile as a lamb."

"I'd need a quiet one," Elizabeth agreed, her eyes glowing at the prospect.

"You can borrow my jodhpurs," Jenny offered, "and I could almost come with you on my bike when my arm gets a bit stronger."

"Don't jump all your fences at once," Mrs. Abercrombie cautioned. "You have all the time in the world to ride a bicycle, and a horse, too, for that matter."

Wonderful plans, Elizabeth thought, if she had the same sort of time as Jenny in which to practise them. Charles, like Jenny, appeared relaxed and happy now, his stern mouth curving more readily into a smile, and when he heard Jenny's laughter he looked content.

They wandered down to the stable block the following morning, Elizabeth in her borrowed jodhpurs and a yellow sweater, Charles in a disreputable-looking hacking jacket which must have been tailored for him while he was still at school. The sleeves were short and he had to leave it unfastened for absolute comfort, but once up in the saddle he was in his element.

They had walked the length of the yard where Natalie kept her ponies and he had saddled up a docile little mare, a small, friendly animal which Elizabeth took to on sight. His own mount was a silver-grey stallion with a lively eye and a habit of stepping quickly to one side when agitated, but he had it under firm control as he led both horses out into the sun.

"I'm taking an awful lot of time off," Elizabeth suggested, "but I'll make up for it by working this afternoon or in the evening."

He looked down at her.

"You can't argue with Grand'mere," he said easily. "She insisted you should come."

She wanted to ask why he had agreed to take her when he could so easily have relegated the task to someone else, but in the end she allowed him to help her into the saddle without comment For today, at least, she would accept his companionship unquestioningly, allowing herself to dream.

They rode far out on to the moor, with the west wind in their faces and the sun beating down on them from a clear sky. It was so utterly different from Hawaii yet, somehow, the same.

"When are you taking your holiday?" he asked as they drew up on the crest of a hill. "My grandmother mentioned it," he added by way of explanation.

She drew in a deep breath.

"There shouldn't be any question of a 'holiday' I haven't earned yet," she told him. "I have to leave some time, Charles. I'm here in Scotland and that was what I wanted, and, your grandmother has made everything so pleasant for me, but I do realise that she doesn't need me any more. There can be no further question of—obligation for either of us."

He looked down at her from his superior height.

"You don't believe in personal attachments, in that case," he said.

"Oh, I do, but this is something quite different," she declared. "Surely you're—detached enough to understand what I mean?"

"Usually I am," he agreed, "but I was thinking of Jenny, too. She means a great deal to me, and I think she needs young companionship—not always going around in Grand'mere's wake."

"There's Natalie," Elizabeth suggested.

"Who isn't interested in anyone but herself." He swung the stallion's head round to face the wind. "Natalie has always been selfish, seeing only her own narrow horizon and ready to trade her sister in to preserve it."

His dark face was full of anger, the mouth hard as he saw the subject of their conversation riding towards them. Natalie drew up on a higher level of the moor, reining her horse in with an abruptness which suggested that she had only just seen them.

"She won't crane down," said Charles. "She'll be on her way to the hotel."

"Does she know about Jenny?" Elizabeth asked. "About the specialist's verdict."

"Jenny will have told her this morning. She went down to the stables to ask about the sick pony."

"I hope it's going to be all right," Elizabeth said.

"I had a word with Fergus on the phone—he's our vet. There's nothing serious to worry about"

"Natalie will be relieved."

He frowned.

"I hope she's going to be as glad about Jenny."

"Oh—surely!" Elizabeth protested. "They're sisters, and she must have been terribly upset by the accident."

"Upset—yes, but Natalie's mind works in a peculiar way which you wouldn't understand. Neither would Jenny," he added. "It takes someone like my grandmother to see through the Natalies of this world."

"You certainly don't like her!"

"I distrust her. I'm sorry if that sounds unreasonably hard," he added, "but it's the way I've always felt about Natalie." He allowed the stallion more rein. "Would you like a quiet gallop down to the road?"

"I'll follow you," said Elizabeth. "I'm not so hot at galloping!"

He set the stallion to a steady canter.

"Anything you say," he agreed. "Tara is a lazy creature at heart, but that's why die's so safe. Jenny used to ride her."

They went smartly down the road with the sun in their faces and the wind behind them, the horses' hooves clattering sharply against the hard stone. Elizabeth tried to push time away from her, wishing their ride would last for ever because Charles had changed so much in the past twenty-four hours. Although she knew that it was because of Jenny's miraculous reprieve, she allowed herself to savour the warmth of it to hold against the chill of the future.

Natalie had reached the stables ahead of them and was loosening a girth as they approached.

"The vet's been over," she announced in a tone which could only be described as sullen. "He says the pony has improved. If you send me the Bill when it comes in, Charles, I'll settle it right away." She did not look at Elizabeth.

"You know what Fergus is like when it comes to sending out bills," Charles answered, helping Elizabeth to dismount. "It could be six months or more before we see it."

"All the same, I'm trying to run this place as a business, so I have to pay my own bills." Her voice was firm.

"I see your point," Charles agreed. "I'll separate the account."

"Thanks." She led her mount towards the nearest loose-box. "Are you going to be here every week-end?" she asked abruptly.

"As often as I can," Charles told her. "Why?"

Natalie faced him, dropping her eyelids in the peculiar way she had so that her eyes appeared to be hooded.

"I wondered," she said briefly. "That was all."

She turned from the loose-box to look directly at Elizabeth, her expression so full of venom that Elizabeth caught her breath.

"I hope you enjoyed your quiet ride," was her scathing comment. "You certainly need someone to take care of you on a horse."

"Sorry about that!" Charles apologised as she marched away. "Someone should certainly 'take care of Natalie!"

"I've known from the beginning that she doesn't like me," Elizabeth confessed.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," he said. "There are very few people she really likes, and most of them are horses!"

They laughed at Natalie's expense, but an odd chill had fallen over the morning as far as Elizabeth was concerned. It was disconcerting to be hated as much as Natalie appeared to hate her, and for no very obvious reason.

CHAPTER TEN

CHARLES remained at Kilchoan until the Monday morning, leaving early so that he could be in his Clydeside office by ten o'clock, and for the remainder of the week Elizabeth was kept too busy with Mrs. Abercrombie's correspondence to think about another ride across the moor.

One letter which intrigued her came from Sydney. It was from Jason, enclosed in a business despatch to Charles and sent on from Glasgow on the Wednesday morning.

"Read it," Mrs. Abercrombie commanded, "and tell me what you think." She thrust the letter across the littered desk. "This girl he writes about must have been a friend of yours."

Biba's name jumped out at Elizabeth before she had scanned the first page. Had Jason fallen in love with Biba? Surely not! Mrs. Abercrombie was watching her closely.

Tell Elizabeth I've been seeing quite a lot of Biba Carrington since she left', Jason had written. 'We've been going places and doing things together and we seem to have a lot in common, but Biba tells me she's not interested in marriage. I'm fated, I suppose, to be eternally crossed in love!'

"Blague!" commented his grandmother. "He just doesn't know his own mind—that's Jason's trouble. You can read on."

Elizabeth did as she was told.

Tell Liz there's no romance between Biba and me— she wouldn't wear it. We're just terribly good chums who like going out together, Biba's married to her career, I guess, but she likes male company now and then. That's where I've been coming in. I take her around when we can both make it, but that's all.'

"Well?" demanded Adele. "What do you think?"

"I'm sure Biba means what she says."

"I hope she does," Adele rejoined, "for I'm sure someone will have to make up Jason's mind for him. in the end. Then he will come to the conclusion that it was what he wanted all along. What else has he to say?"

"It's mostly business." Elizabeth scanned the final sheet. "Do you want him to come to Scotland for the board meeting in April?"

"So that he can have a nice little jaunt at the firm's expense? Well, we shall see," Adele declared. "Most of the things Charles wants to do I agree with, so Jason would be the voice crying in the wilderness if he did want to object. Of course," she added thoughtfully, "the day will come when we will have to give him more power, but I'd like to see him more settled by then. I won't always be here to back Charles up in all the things he does. We had better tell Jenny that Jason may be coming," she added briskly.

Jenny took the news of Jason's likely advent quietly. Very quietly, Elizabeth thought, facing her across the dining-room table at their evening meal.

"I suppose it will have to happen one day," she said. "He's been away for almost two years."

"Which is a long time," Adele agreed. "He hasn't changed much, I would say. You'll recognise each other."

"I hope so." Jenny forced a laugh. "When you consider we were practically brought up together, I should know Jason very well."

Adele went to bed early, and soon afterwards Jenny rose from the settee beside the fire, folding the skirt she had been making on top of her workbox.

"Have you ever been really, truly in love, Elizabeth?" she asked.

Completely taken by surprise, Elizabeth countered the question with one of her own.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I have been," Jenny confessed in a shaken whisper. "I still am. I can't forget Jason, you see. It wasn't that we were engaged or anything," she added quickly. "There wasn't even what Mrs. Murdoch calls 'an understanding' between us. It was just that—we knew. Then there was the accident and I couldn't move my arm. My face was scarred, too, and it didn't clear up for a long time afterwards. Even now, you can see some of the marks. That's why I keep my hair long." She drew her hair back from her forehead to reveal a white, jagged scar near her scalp which she would bear for the rest of her life. "It isn't much, and it's out of sight if I keep my hair like this, but at the time I believed I was going to look hideous for ever. You see, Jason was a perfectionist and he couldn't bear to look at me when I was so—disfigured. I sent him away, telling him I didn't want to see him again— ever."

"And now he may be coming back."

Elizabeth thought suddenly of Charles, of what he would feel if he had come to love Jenny instead of just being sorry for her and feeling responsible.

"Yes." Jenny stood gazing at her for a moment. "He's had a long time to make up his mind, and I haven't made mine up yet I want to be absolutely sure that we're right for each other. Absolutely."

Elizabeth sat on by the fire for a long time before she finally went to her room. It seemed that their whole world had been turned upside down, of a sudden, and it was hardly fair of Jenny to keep Charles dangling while she waited for Jason's return.

The idea of Charles Abercrombie playing second fiddle to anyone seemed ludicrous, but she recalled the moment when he had first told them about the specialist's verdict and the elation in his eyes as he realised that Jenny was going to get well. He had changed from that moment, coming home to Kilchoan each week-end, as if the miracle of Jenny's recovery drew him like a magnet. He had even been magnanimous about the 'holiday' Adele had suggested, although Elizabeth had acknowledged fairly enough that she had not earned it.

Long after the others were asleep and the great house was still she lay gazing at the panel of light between her half-drawn curtains, looking for a star which she could not find. It had been there on the first night she had slept at Kilchoan, shining brightly above the hills, but now a drifting cloud had covered it and the sky looked dark.

The following afternoon, because Charles had telephoned to say that he would be home by three o'clock, she walked down to the stables to ask Natalie for a horse to ride.

"Tara, if you can spare her," she stipulated hopefully when they came face to face. "We got on very well together last time."

Natalie turned towards the row of loose-boxes.

"You can't have Tara," she said. "She's going out with the others. Charles allows me to use her when I need an extra mount for the hotel."

"Oh?" Elizabeth looked disappointed.

"Why don't you take the grey?" Natalie suggested.

"He'd be too much of a handful, don't you think? He's really a man's horse," Elizabeth objected.

"That shouldn't daunt an Australian," Natalie sneered. "I ride him if I have to."

"I don't think Charles would like it, all the same," Elizabeth said.

"Why not? He seems to approve of most things you do."

"Not on horseback! He thought me over-timid on Tara, as a matter of fact."

"A child could ride Tara," Natalie returned scornfully. "I'm taking her out for a six-year-old."

Elizabeth hesitated.

"I'm quite sure I couldn't manage the grey," she said.

"I'll saddle him up," Natalie stepped smartly towards the loose-box where the stallion stood waiting, his ears laid back at her approach. "I may even ride him myself later in the afternoon if there's another horse wanted at the hotel." She flung the saddle over the stallion's back. "You can always use the mounting-block if you feel nervous," she added. "The children do."

The scathing innuendo triggered off a spark of anger in Elizabeth. Natalie had offered her a challenge, feeling certain that she would not rise to it, but why was she troubling at all? What was she trying to prove?

"I'll see how I feel about taking him out once I am up," she decided slowly. "I still think he's too big for me."

Natalie led the stallion across the cobbled yard towards an ancient stone mounting-block at the far end.

"There you are," she said. "Do your worst!"

Biting her underlip to hide her vexation, Elizabeth climbed on to the block, sitting uneasily in the saddle for a moment to adjust the rein. The big stallion whinneyed with excitement.

"He doesn't take kindly to a riding-whip," Natalie observed, "so you'd better leave yours behind."

"I never use one." Elizabeth, still feeling uncomfortable, shifted her position in the saddle. "Quite honestly, Natalie, I've changed my mind. He's far too big a horse for me to ride."

Looking down, she saw the fiendish smile on the other girl's lips. Natalie was like someone possessed for a moment as she stepped closer, her riding-whip in her hand.

"Let's see you ride!" she laughed, bringing the whip down smartly on the stallion's rump.

The big horse took off like the wind with Elizabeth clinging to his back. She could neither call out nor think dearly at first. What she did was largely primitive; she held on like grim death, waiting for the moment when the horse would throw her and praying that it would never come.

The stallion covered the distance to the main gate in what must have been record time. They flew like the wind out between the gateposts and over the glen road to the open stretches of the moor on the other side. They raced across the headier, fording burns and ditches, climbing up and ever upwards while, by some miracle, Elizabeth remained in the saddle. The wind flew past her with the first streaks of rain on its breath, while above the hills the mist began to gather.

I've got to keep my head, she thought. I've just got to, otherwise he'll toss me down somewhere among the heather where I won't be found for days.

The big, powerful animal was in his element, reaching out with all his strength to cover as much ground as he could before the rein was drawn tight again. Used to a man's restraining hand, the light weight in the saddle irked him. Elizabeth was something to be shaken off as quickly as possible. Besides, she had used the hated whip; she had struck him viciously when he had least expected it, an error of judgment for which she must pay.

When the rain came they were far up among the hills, close under a ridge of grey rock where they would be hard to detect from the road below. Elizabeth knew that she was growing tired. The effort to hold on at all costs had gapped her strength and the rain chilled her. She had come out without a headscarf, envisaging a leisurely trot along the burnside on Tara's comfortable back, and soon she was soaked from head to foot. The stallion careered through the mist as if he was part of it, a legendary horse bent on riding the elements to the edge of destruction. Her breath came weakly between her lips.

"Stop, you brute! Please stop!"

The sound of her voice only seemed to infuriate him, remembering the whip. On and on he went regardless, it seemed, of time or direction until he halted suddenly at the far end of the ridge. Elizabeth had time to draw breath, but not time to dismount.

As if bent on some hideous game of reprisals, on he went, but downwards this time, back towards the glen. Relief claimed her as the rain streamed down her face and into the thick neckband of her pullover, chilling her all over. At least they were heading back towards Kilchoan.

All she had been told and taught about horses flashed through her mind, none of it seeming to apply to the horse she was riding now. She thought about Charles and his justifiable fury when he discovered that she had taken the stallion without his permission. She could only try to explain to him, to make it seem like an accident when it was no accident at all. Natalie had struck the stallion in a fit of temper, if not deliberately, succumbing to a blind, uncontrollable rage which had blunted her sense of humanity and turned her into a fiend.

Try as she might, there was no response to her constant pull on the rein, and after a while she knew that she was weakening. Her strength was giving out.

The stallion knew it, too. He tossed his head each time she tried to tighten her grip, snorting derision to the wind. He was a powerful creature and he meant to pit his strength against this feeble woman who had climbed on to his back and then struck him viciously across the rump. His dignity had been sorely tried.

The sound of his hooves thudding across the wet rock drummed like the knell of her own doom in Elizabeth's ears, and gradually they began to have a soporific effect, lulling her into a false sense of security because it seemed that she would go on for ever. On and on, like a Valkyrie.

The stallion found a well-known, defined pathway above the glen, thundering along it while she clung to his back in terror. Then, suddenly and for no obvious reason, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Cradled as she was by the thick heather shoots, her fall was lighter than she expected, but for a moment she lay where she was, stunned by the knowledge that she was now on her own. No horse of the stallion's mettle would stand quietly by, waiting for her to climb into the saddle a second time.

She was wrong. When she looked up he was still there, standing about two yards away watching her out of the comer of his eye.

Slowly and painfully she got to her feet, wondering if she had broken every bone in her body.

"You ungrateful brute!" she cried. "Now see what you have done! I didn't touch you with the whip—you ought to know that."

Getting rid of her feelings helped a little. She halted an arm's length from the horse, who stood his ground, and they remained there, staring at each other in mutual frustration while the rain poured down between them, soaking them both to the skin.

"Let's strike a bargain," she said, at last. "Let me ride as far as the glen road and then you can go home alone."

The sensitive ears twitched, hearing the persuasion in her voice, but she did not move towards him immediately. Waiting in the rain, she realised how pointless it would be, even if she managed to catch him, because she would not be able to re-mount without assistance.

The stallion moved cautiously towards her, his head down, and carefully she reached out and took the dangling rein. She could not believe that he had capitulated so easily, yet there was very little she could do with him except to lead him for miles back to Kilchoan.

By that time the hue and cry would be up. It would be getting dark and Charles would have returned from Glasgow.

Elizabeth shivered involuntarily, leading the horse back along the narrow bridle-path which straddled the hills. There was no sign of human habitation anywhere, only a few sheep grazing along the ridge and cropping the new grass among the heather. A bird flew occasionally overhead as their passage disturbed it, a buzzard or kestrel soaring into the grey sky to drift away down wind in search of peace.

A group of rocks loomed up ahead of them, but she dismissed diem as a source of shelter because she dared not let the stallion go. She was almost past them before she realised what else they might provide. A mounting-block!

If she could coax him near the rocks she might be able to climb back into the saddle without letting the rein go. Would he allow it, she wondered, or was he too wily an individual to be taken in by so obvious a ruse?

Believing that very little would be gained by hesitation, she led him towards a suitable rock, and once again he stood like a docile mare, waiting for her to climb on to the rock.

"You understand," she said, "I'm not going to whip you this time."

Whether he understood or not, he waited till she was in the saddle before he moved off again.

"Please don't gallop," she pleaded under her breath. "I've had enough."

He trudged solidly along the path. She could feel the gentle ripples of his muscles under his skin and knew why Charles had chosen him. He was big and strong and powerful, but he also knew how to obey.

They were half way across the moor before he broke into a trot. The scent of home and a stall full of dry hay had come very near.

"Don't go too fast," Elizabeth begged. "We're so nearly there."

She saw the other horseman coming towards them out of the mist of rain, and suddenly the stallion shied away from the intruder to take off across the heather. He went like the wind again, while she clung to his back, wondering if the other rider had seen them and what he or she would do about it.

Nothing, perhaps, unless they had come out as part of a search and knew that she was lost.

It seemed an eternity before she heard the sound of hooves thundering up behind her, but the stallion had accepted the challenge, increasing his speed with a wild whinney of delight as the second horse dropped behind. Then, as quickly as he had capitulated beneath the distant crags, he began to slow down.

The oncoming horseman veered away to the right and came up ahead of them. Elizabeth saw that it was Charles.

"Charles!" she cried. "Charles!"

The wind carried her words away to shatter them against the hills, and for a moment she closed her eyes, feeling the rain stinging her lids and the wind clutching at her hair. This must be some terrible nightmare which seemed as if it would never end.

The two horses were galloping neck and neck now and Charles's hand was on her rein. She felt the desperate pace slackening until, suddenly, it was all over and Charles was standing on the wet heather beneath her. She slid down into his waiting arms.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm sorry! I'm always doing the wrong thing."

Soaked and utterly exhausted, she stood shivering in the circle of his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his body between her and the rain. He held her for a long time, comforting her without the use of words, and when she turned her face up to his he kissed her with a tenderness she had never known before.

"I thought you were dead," he said roughly. "I thought I'd lost you."

If he thought he had lost her it must be because he loved her.

"I love you," she sobbed. "I love you, Charles—"

He kissed her then, roughly, almost savagely, holding her face between his hands, smoothing the wet hair back from her brow.

"I know how it happened," he said. "You don't need to tell me or pretend that it was an accident to shield anyone. Jenny saw it all, but she couldn't follow you. All she could do was to tell Natalie what she thought of her and run for help. She met me on the way up to the house, but the time-lag gave you a tremendous head start. There was no knowing which direction you'd taken or where we might find you." His arms tightened about her. "Thank God you're safe," he said quietly.

"As safe as I've ever been." She laid her head on his damp shoulder. "Oh, Charles, I was so afraid," she confessed, although a great joy was already flooding into her heart "I was afraid of everything; of going away from Kilchoan and never seeing you again, of being really alone for the rest of my life."

"You needn't be afraid of that now," he said, holding her a little way away from him to look into her eyes. "If you'll have me we can be married even before Grand'mere rushes off to Hawaii to reunite Jenny and Jason, as she's always planned!"

"Dear Grand'mere!" Elizabeth smiled. "She's the most wonderful person I've ever met."

"She's a shameless old matchmaker," Charles laughed. "I've half a notion she even planned all this."

Elizabeth looked at him through the rain.

"You and me?" she said. "I do believe you're right"

"Of course I'm right!" he held her close once more. "And now we'll go home in case you catch pneumonia all over again, and have to stay in bed for another week."

"I don't think that will happen," Elizabeth told him. "I'm far too happy to think of being ill."

"We'll change horses," he decided, "although I don't think Corran will misbehave again. He's had a grandstand view of our affection and he's always been very loyal."

They rode swiftly down the glen until they came into view of Kilchoan, but Charles steered Corran away from the stable block.

"I've offered Natalie alternative accommodation." His face was suddenly grim. "She can't go on staying here after we're married. Grand'mere is firmly of the opinion that she'll marry Will Beatty in the end and start a riding school elsewhere. It would be the best way," he added firmly, "because I never want to see her again."

"Isn't that—rather drastic?" Elizabeth asked.

"Drastic, when she nearly killed you out of sheer viciousness? Oh, no!" Charles exclaimed, "Kilchoan will be a happier place without Natalie and her scheming. Even when Claire was alive," he added quietly, "she wanted things all her own way. It was only because we felt we had a responsibility towards Jenny after the accident that we agreed to the riding school idea. If Will Beatty wants to marry her and take her elsewhere 'to better himself', as he puts it, nobody will shed any tears. It's almost incomprehensible that she could have been Claire's sister."

He could speak about Claire openly now, and Elizabeth was glad. She would have admired him less if he had pretended that his first love was no longer even a memory in his heart.

"Jenny worshipped Claire," he said slowly, "and she didn't want me ever to forget her. It was a young girl's romantic reaction to love that death has sealed, and she was desperately hurt about Jason into the bargain. I felt badly because I'd sent Jason to Sydney to manage Abercrombie's Australian connection, and the thought had crossed my mind that it would do him good to get away for a while. Perhaps it did," he mused, "since he's made up his mind to join Grand'mere and Jenny in Maui at the end of next month."

The mist had lifted from the hills behind them and an errant shaft of sunlight slanted across the moor, burnishing the gorse and the grey rooftops of Kilchoan. Charles edged the stallion nearer until the horses' flanks were only a few inches apart.

"We're going to live down there for the rest of our lives," he said. "Do you think you'll like that, Elizabeth?"

She reached across and took his hand, her eyes shining as they looked up into his.

"How could I fail to like it," she asked huskily, "when I fell in love with it at first sight?"

Jenny came running on to the terrace, looking up towards their high vantage-point and waving frantically.

"We've been discovered," Charles laughed. "We'll have to go."