"You've something else to do?" he asked in his cheery way. "Well, come
another time if it won't bore you!"
"Oh, it isn't that!" said Dinah, and her flush deepened. "I--I would love
to come. Only--" She glanced round at an elderly couple who had just come
out, and stopped.
"I'm going down to the village with my letters," said Scott. "Will you
come too?"
She welcomed the idea. "Oh yes, I should like to. It's such a glorious
morning again, isn't it? It's a shame not to go out."
"Sure you're not wanting to skate?" he questioned.
"Yes, quite sure. I--I'm rather tired this morning, but a walk will do me
good."
They passed the rink without pausing, though Scott glanced across to see
his brother skimming along in the distance with a red-clad figure beside
him. He made no comment upon the sight, and Dinah was silent also. Her
gay animation that morning was wholly a minus quantity.
They went on down the hill, talking but little. Speech in Scott's society
was never a necessity. His silences were so obviously friendly. He had a
shrewd suspicion on this occasion that the girl beside him had something
to say, and he waited for it with a courteous patience, abstaining from
interrupting her very evident preoccupation.
They walked between fields of snow, all glistening in the sunshine. The
blue of the sky was no longer sapphire but glorious turquoise. The very
air sparkled, diamond-clear in the crystal splendour of the day.
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