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“Is that what we do?” Susan smiled. “Shout out before we’re really hurt?”

“He’s like your father,” he said more soberly and without answering her question about Denhams in general.

“I’m glad.” She felt impatient, wanting to see the baby without any further delay. “Will you stay for something to drink, to ‘wet his head’, or whatever it is?”

Men did these things, she supposed, and this should have been her father’s greatest day. A son, she thought. A son at Denham, at last!

“I’ll give you five minutes with your stepmother first,” the doctor said, seeing how eager she was. “And then— yes, I think we might wish young Adam well!”

Susan raced along the upstairs corridor to be met at the door of Evelyn’s room by a smiling nurse.

“Mrs. Denham is waiting to see you,” she said.

If Evelyn had been beautiful before, she was more than beautiful now. Her smile was radiant, her eyes full of a new and growing wonder as she held her son cradled in her arms for Susan to see.

“Such a scrap,” Susan said huskily, “to cause all this fuss!” But she was on her knees beside the bed, touching the tiny hand which seemed to be outstretched towards her as the baby moved in his sleep. “Evelyn,” she said, “you must be very proud.”

“Happy, mostly,” her stepmother answered. “He’s seven pounds ten ounces, Susan. Isn’t that wonderful? Not a ‘scrap' at all! I worried a bit at first,” she ran on to confess. “All mothers do, I expect, but you only have to look at him to see how fit he is. Tough and strong, like a true Borderer!” she added softly.

"He’ll grow up here, at Denham,” Susan predicted happily, and then she thought about Max, who owned Denham now.

“It isn’t important,” Evelyn said, “so long as he grows into a man like your father. He’ll have a share in Denham’s, of course—my share—and he may work with Max, in time/’

Susan wondered if Max had already made her
that
promise, knowing that, sooner or later, Evelyn would be his wife. But even Max was further away than usual as she looked at the baby in Evelyn’s arms.

“We’ll have such fun,” she said. “The three of us, together!”

Evelyn heaved a little sigh.

“Life can be full and beautiful, Sue,” she decided, “in spite of everything.”

You’ll never be lonely, Susan vowed. I’ll see to that!

When the nurse came to take the baby away she walked with her to the door.

“Would you—let me hold him for a moment?” she asked. “Or is it absolutely against the rules?”

“Why not?” the nurse smiled. “You’re his nearest relative!’

It was so soft a bundle, so warm and sweet-smelling that Susan felt her heart must burst. If only her father had been here! She held the baby close for a moment, her lips moving gently against the shawl.

“Bless you, Adam Denham,” she murmured. “Bless you till you’re a man!”

To her utter surprise, Max was standing in the hall when she went down half an hour later. He was talking to the doctor, but he looked up when she came to the branch of the staircase. Nellie had just let him in and he had a great bunch of flowers in his arms—roses from the gardens of Fetterburn Carse.

Susan gripped the banister-rail. He was here, so soon, so eager to greet the child which Evelyn had borne, and he had come alone, bearing the flowers from the Carse. It meant that he considered he had every right to visit Evelyn first. It meant that he loved her....

The colour faded from her cheeks as her heart cried out in wild protest, but somehow she managed to descend the few remaining stairs to greet him in her stepmother’s name.

“Evelyn is very happy,” she said, “and very well.” When she looked at the delicate pink roses her eyes blurred with tears. “She’ll love your gift, Max. It was most thoughtful of you.”

“It was a shot in the dark,” he confessed. “I dropped in on my way to the mill.”

“Oh?” Her mind was immediately alert. “Is there anything wrong?”

His mouth firmed at the coldness of her tone.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, “about your new designs.”

“Yes, of course.” She had completely forgotten about the forthcoming collection. “But there’s plenty of time, isn’t there?”

“Not if we intend to dye our own yarn,” he reminded her. “But at the moment that can wait. Doctor Telfer says you were about to ‘wet the baby’s head', or some such outlandish custom. May I join in?”

It was for Evelyn’s sake, of course. Oh, happy Evelyn!

Susan led the way into the morning-room where a bright fire was burning and Nellie laid the flowers on the table beside the window.

“You’ll be wantin’ to arrange them yoursel’,” she commented to Susan, “before ye tak’ them up to the mistress.”

Susan poured drinks all round, her hand not quite steady as she gripped the decanter, but anger had no part in her now. Only pain and longing as she lifted the flowers Max had brought for her stepmother. If they were indeed a love-token she could not grudge Evelyn such devotion.

Her hands trembled as she lifted the long-stemmed roses, one by one, to place them in the silver bowl Nellie brought for her. It had been her first trophy, won long ago at a local gymkhana, and her father had prized it almost as much as she had done. And now it was filled with Maxwell Elliott’s roses, brought for her father’s wife on this happy day which he should have shared.

Max seemed taller than ever as he carried the drinks across the room, appearing to dominate even this small, family scene, but her anger against him was dead now. She took her glass of sherry from the silver salver, meeting his querulous gaze with a resolute enough smile.

“To Evelyn !” the doctor said. “And young Adam!”

Max’s eyes were full on hers.

“To young Adam,” he repeated.

Was that to be the bond between them in future? Her father’s son—Evelyn’s child? That, and nothing more?

How could she expect it? She had let him see the worst side of her nature, the harsh, proud side which would not look beyond the past to a future they could all share, a future which had now been forged to the past by this new link, this child who would carry the Denham name into another generation.

The doctor put down his glass.

“That was very nice,” he said, “but I’m a busy man and I must be on my way.” He gave them both an expansive smile. “There’s something eminently satisfying about bringing a new life into the world,” he added, “and this young man was particularly important.”

Susan went with him to the door, and when she returned Max was standing on the hearthrug in front of the fire, looking very much the man in possession, she thought.

“Could we have a word about Grisell?” he asked. “Or are you in a desperate hurry to get to the mill?”

Susan glanced at her watch, and because her truant heart seemed to be beating loud enough for him to hear, she said abruptly :

“I can give you a few minutes, but I’m late as it is—”

He smiled at the curtness of her near dismissal.

“It won’t take long,” he assured her. “All I wanted to say was ‘Thanks for taking her under your wing’.”

“It will be Evelyn’s wing, mostly.” She moved towards the door. ‘They’ll be here together a great deal.”

“I could think of nothing better,” he said, “but you’ll have to keep her in touch with Denham’s. I think she has this talent, Susan, but it can only be developed if she works hard enough. With you,” he added.

“You can’t force anyone to be a good designer,” she countered.

“That wasn’t quite what I meant,” he said. “I know it has to come naturally, and I recognise it as a gift— something one has to be born with—but I’m convinced Grisell has this flair and I want it developed before she rushes off and does something stupid. It would be ideal if she would continue to work at Denham’s, at least for a while,” he added slowly.

“Has her father come back from Edinburgh?” she asked, because Richard Elliott was so closely involved in all this. “She said you were expecting him.”

“He phoned last night, after I got back to the Carse.” Max hesitated. “If it’s at all possible, Susan, I don’t want him to know anything about our little jaunt up there to find Grisell. I don’t think she’ll tell him, by the way.”

’“But you think I might?” she flashed. “To cause trouble.”

His eyes darkened momentarily.

“I didn’t say that!”

“It may have been what you meant, though.” She opened the door for him to go on ahead of her. “But I won’t tell tales out of school if that’s what you want me to promise!”

Suddenly he swung round to confront her in the bright light of day.

“This is something I care about very much,” he said.

“More than you would credit, perhaps. Her father needs her at the Carse and I’ll see that she stays there, by every means in my power short of chaining her to the battlements.”

“I think you would do that, too,” she said, meeting his impatient frown, “if you had to in order to get your own way!”

His smile was instantly amused.

“What an ogre you must take me for!” he said. “Maybe you’ll learn the truth, in time.”

“I’ll do what I can for Grisell,” she promised, her throat suddenly tight, “but surely you can talk to her father about her? He’s bound to know how indulgent he’s been since her mother died and realise that it can’t go on.”

His grey eyes seemed to flash scorn on the idea.

“I don’t want him troubled,” he said in the old, clipped manner which made him seem so arrogant. “I know about Grisell, and so do you. We both feel that she ought to be kept on a tighter rein, but it’s no use explaining to Richard at this late date. He worships her because she’s part of the woman he loved, and so he indulges her every whim, but I can’t tell him how wrong he is. Not now. I’ve got to act on my own and risk Grisell hating me for the rest of her life because I spoiled her chances of doing what she wanted to do at the time.”

“Are you absolutely sure you know best?” she asked as they reached the outer door.

“Yes,” he said. “I think so.”

It was the first time he hadn’t been completely adamant, she thought as she followed him out to his car.

“About this film business,” he said, turning before he got in behind the wheel. “I’ve half a notion this might be the answer to her staying put for the time being. It might be the answer to some of her restlessness, anyway,” he added. “Like all young girls, she likes to think of herself in a glamorous job, and if she were to get some sort of part in the film, even as an extra, I think it would keep her at the Carse long enough to be genuinely interested in Denham’s in the end. You could do a lot in that respect," he added, “with the collections coming along.”

“You plan everything so carefully,” she told him. “The way you plan your life!”

“I wish I could,” he said, “but at least you’ve promised to help with Grisell.”

“I can’t think what part she could possibly play in
The Bride of Lammermoor
,” she mused as he let in his clutch, “but that would be for the casting department to decide.”

She stood watching as he drove away, thinking about the novel she had always loved, and suddenly she could see Scott’s story taking shape here at Denham, worked out, step by step, against the backcloth of the fells. But even in her wildest dreams she could never have imagined her own involvement in the tragic story of the Bride.

THE vanguard of Midlothian Productions, Inc. arrived at the Carse a week later, causing a buzz of speculation and a flurry of excitement in the dale which outmatched even the Common Riding. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Steeped in the writings of Sir Walter Scott from their earliest schooldays, most of the inhabitants were eager to respond to the invitation put out by the film company to take part in their spectacular production in the capacity of extras in the crowd scenes, but many a worthy citizen of the Border towns nursed a secret desire for even the smallest 'bit’ part. The Lucy Ashtons and the Calebs and the Sir Williams would be lined up to meet triumph or disappointment elsewhere, and the mature actress who would play Lucy Ashton had already been named. It was a part as important to a great tragedienne as Lady Macbeth herself, and Barbara Gresham would play it with the utmost finesse. Edgar of Ravenswood was to be played by a popular young star whose name was to be kept a secret until the actual filming began, but already there was much rumour and counter-rumour to keep the interest of the county alive.

Two weeks after the new Adam Denham arrived he was already taking second place in the popularity stakes around Fetterburn and Yairborough, and Evelyn smiled at the fact as she wheeled him along the terrace for the first time.

Grisell, who had been working at the house for over a week now, appeared from the library with a length of tweed in her hand.

“How’s that for the new dyes?” she demanded. “With any luck, we’re going to have them ready for Sue’s autumn collection. I suppose that means if I work hard enough,” she added with a yawn. “Do you think I’ll ever be any good, Mrs. Denham?”

Evelyn braked the pram to run her white fingers over the soft material.

“This is exactly what we want,” she declared, “and you’ve helped a lot, Grisell, even in the short time you’ve been here.”

“Susan’s such a genius,” Grisell sighed. “I could never hold a candle to her, really.”

“You’re not in competition,” Evelyn pointed out. “You can learn so much from Susan, you know.”

“Max thinks I ought to try,” Grisell said. “He’s mad keen about making a go of this.” She glanced about her at the quiet parkland and the moor beyond it rising steadily to the knees of the fells. “It’s all a bit remote, isn’t it?”

“Not if your interest is here.”

“I don’t think mine is,” Grisell said. “I don’t really know. I want to stay and yet I don’t. What happened to Lilias?”

Evelyn took a full minute to consider the question. “She’s probably doing some small job somewhere, waiting to come back to Denham” she said, at last.

“Do you think she will?” Grisell’s eyes brightened. “She’s such a dazzling person, and she really did think I could succeed in modelling.”