The sweet-scented dusk was soothing to the senses, and there in the narrow glen, with the wide blue strath and the gleam of the river below, it was hard to find the link of reality and easy to credit fairyland.

Arthur and Miss Wishart had gone on in front and were now strayed among boulders.

She liked this trim and precise young man, whose courtesy was so grave and elaborate, while he, being a recluse by nature but a humanitarian by profession, was half nervous and half entranced in her cheerful society.

They talked of nothing, their hearts being set on the scramble, and when at last they reached the highway and the farm where the Glenavelin traps had been put up, they found themselves a clear ten minutes in advance of the others.
As they sat on the dyke in the soft cool air Alice spoke casually of the place.

"Where is Etterick ?" she asked; and a light on a hillside farther up the glen was pointed out to her.
"It's a very fresh and pleasant place to stay at," said Arthur.