"Poor Isabel!" she whispered.
"Yes." Scott's pale eyes were gazing straight ahead.

"He was killed two days after the marriage.

They had gone up to the Hills, to a place he knew of right in the wilds on the side of a mountain, and pitched camp there.

There were only themselves, a handful of Pathan coolies with mules, and a _shikari_.

The day after they got there, he took her up the mountain to show her some of the beauties of the place, and they lunched on a ledge about a couple of hundred feet above a great lonely tarn.