What a strange, pale-dark face, with its black, uncovered hair, its straight black brows; what a proud, swan's-eyed, thin-lipped, straight-nosed young devil, marching like a very Highlander; though still rather run-up, from sheer youthfulness! They had come abreast of the car by now, and, leaning out, he said: "You don't remember me, I'm afraid!" The boy shook his head.

Wonderful eyes he had! But the girl put out her hand.
"Of course, Derek; it's Uncle Felix." They both smiled now, the girl friendly, the boy rather drawn back into himself.

And feeling strangely small and ill at ease, Felix murmured: "I'm going to see your father.

Can I give you a lift home ?" The answer came as he expected: "No, thanks." Then, as if to tone it down, the girl added: "We've got something to do first.

You'll find him in the orchard." She had a ringing voice, full of warmth.