Miss Melville had a better idea than he fancied.  It is curious to meet people as strangers of whom you know a great deal, and when Elsie looked at the very gentlemanly man beside her, whose dress was perfectly fashionable, whose air and mien were rather distinguished, and whose language, in spite of a few colonial colloquialisms, had the clear, sharp tone and accent which agreeably marks out an educated Englishman among an assembly of Scotchmen, and recollected the description of his dress and habitation which Peggy had given, and the scenes and conversation which she had narrated, she was almost afraid of betraying her knowledge by her countenance.

“Have you been long home from Australia?” she asked, as a safe question.

“A few months, and am enjoying it intensely.”

“And what brings you to Scotland?  I suppose your relations are all English?”

“Oh, an Australian thinks he ought to see the whole of Britain, when he can visit it so seldom.  A man is treated with contempt on his return if he has not seen the Cumberland lakes and the Scottish Highlands.  But I have relations in Scotland besides;—­the old lady sitting by Mrs. Rennie in black moire (is it that you call it?) is a sort of aunt of mine, and is connected in some inexplicable way with the Rennies.  Your Scotch cousinships are an absolute mystery to me; it is a pity I cannot understand them, for I am indebted to them for a great deal of hospitality and kindness, of which this is one of the most agreeable instances;”—­and Mr. Brandon looked at Elsie as if he meant what he said.

“It does one good to see a man enjoying a party; our fashionable style is for the indifferent and the done up,” said Elsie, with a smile.  “I do not know if gentlemen enjoy life in spite of that nonchalant or dismal manner; but I know it is not pleasant for the lookers on.”

“I cannot see why they should assume such a disagreeable style of conduct.  To me, you English and Scotch people seem the most enviable in existence—­amusement after amusement, and education, elegance, and refinement to heighten every enjoyment.  I often say to myself, ’Walter Brandon, my good fellow, this will not last; you must go back to your stations and your troubles in a few months;’ but for the present I am in Elysium.”

By this time they had finished their dance, and were standing beside Jane.  She looked up at him with her steady eyes—­“The happiness is in yourself—­not in the country, in the amusements, or in the society.  You have earned a holiday, and you enjoy it.”

“All Australians feel the drawbacks of the colonies when they come to visit England,” said Mr. Brandon.

“It depends on their circumstances, whether they do or not.  I often wish that I were there,” said Jane.

“And so do I,” said Miss Rennie, who with Francis had just joined them.  “There must be a grandeur and a freshness about a new country that we cannot find here; and those wonderful gold diggings, too, must be the most interesting objects in nature.”