He had had no word from Anne Linton for nearly two months, and was as restless as a young man may well be when his affairs do not go to please him.  She had kept her promise and had written from time to time, but though her letters were the most interesting human documents King had ever dreamed a woman could write, they were, from the point of view of the suitor, extremely unsatisfying.  As she had agreed, she had given him with each letter an address to which he might send an immediate reply, and he had made the most of each such opportunity; but, since it takes two to seal a bargain, he had not been able to feel his cause much advanced by all his efforts.  He had welcomed this chance to accompany Burns as a diversion from his restless thoughts, for a few days’ interval in his engineering plans, caused by a delay in the arrival of certain necessary material, was making him wild with eagerness for something—­anything—­to happen.

Two hundred miles in a high-powered car over finely macadamized roads are more quickly and comfortably covered in these days than a thirty-mile drive behind horses over such country highways as existed a decade ago.  Aleck, at the wheel, his master’s orders in his willing ears from time to time, gradually accelerated his rate of speed until by the end of the first two hours he was carrying his party along at a pace which Mrs. King had frequently condemned as one which would be to her unbearable.  Burns and King exchanged glances more than once as the car flew past other travellers, and the good lady, talking happily with Ellen or absorbed in some far-reaching view, took no note of the fact that she was annihilating space with a smooth swiftness comparable only to the flight of some big, strong-winged bird.

“Over halfway there, and plenty of time for lunch,” Burns announced.  “And here’s the best roadside inn in the country.  If it hadn’t been for our coming this way I should have suggested bringing our own hampers, but I wanted you to have some of this little Englishman’s brook trout and hot scones.”

Mrs. King enjoyed that hot and delicious meal as she had seldom enjoyed a luncheon anywhere.  As she sat at the faultlessly served table, her eyes travelling from the wide view at the window to the faces of her companions, she grew more and more cheerful in manner, and was even heard to laugh softly aloud now and then at one of Burns’s gay quips, turning to Ellen in appreciation of her husband’s wit, or to Jordan himself as he came back at his friend with a rejoinder worth hearing.

“This is doing my mother a world of good,” King said in Ellen’s ear as the party came out on a wide porch to rest for a half hour before taking to the car again.  “I don’t know when I’ve seen her expand like this and seem really to be forgetting her cares and sorrows.”

“It’s a pleasure to watch her,” Ellen agreed.  “Red vowed this morning that he meant to bring about that very thing, and he’s succeeding much better than I had dared to hope.”