"No, sir."
"Why don't they acknowledge it now and get married?"
"They say it's because they daurna for fear of the scandal."
"'They' say again!" commented Carrington. "But, look here, Bisset, you have been in the house all the time. Did you think they were engaged?"
"Honestly, sir, I did not. There's nae doubt Sir Malcolm was sweet on the young lady, but deil a sign of sweetness on him did I ever see in her!"
"Do they correspond now?"
Bisset shook his head.
"Hardly at a'. But of course folks just say they are feared to now."
"Has anybody asked either of them if they are—or ever were—engaged?"
"No, sir. But if they denied it now, folks would just say the same thing."
"Yes. I see—naturally. Lady Cromarty believes it and is keeping Miss Farmond under her eye, the gossips tell me. Is that so?"
"Oh, that's true right enough, sir."
"Who told Lady Cromarty?"
"That I do not know, sir."
Again the visitor seemed to be thinking, and again to cast his thoughts aside and take up a new aspect of the case.
"Supposing," he suggested, "we were to draw the curtains and light these candles for a few
