"Hullo, Hoddam, how are you?
And Imrie! Who would have thought of finding you here ?" And he poured forth a string of kind questions till the two beamed with pleasure.
Then Alice heard dimly words of introduction: "Miss Wishart, Mr.
Haystoun," and felt herself bowing automatically.

She actually felt nervous.

The disreputable fisher of the day before was in ordinary riding garments of fair respectability.

He recognized her at once, but he, too, seemed to lose for a moment his flow of greetings.

His tone insensibly changed to a conventional politeness, and he asked her some of the stereotyped questions with which one greets a stranger.