I would be in the same place to-morrow, I should see her again, and learn her name. Not that I cared who she was; at that moment I would have proposed marriage to her, had she been a serving maid. I knew she was not that, of course; only a lady could have carried herself so perfectly, and her voice was exquisite in its soft melody.
In my youthfulness, I presumed that she on her side would be as ready as myself to meet again, and learn to know me better. I don't think that this was conceit on my part; but it had all come about so quickly and naturally that anything else would have seemed inconceivable to me.
I do not know what coin it was that I gave the man who took the boat from me; but it must have been of considerable value, to judge by the thanks he poured upon me.
Little did I dream, as I walked up to the hotel, of the awful news that awaited me.
Mr. Neville met me as I raced up to the hotel; and the look on his face checked any exuberance in my greeting.
"My boy," he said as we entered my room, "I have very bad news for you: your stepfather is, I am afraid, very ill."
He handed me the telegram which had brought the bad news, and I read:
"Your stepfather is dying come."
As if in a dream, I said good-bye to Carruthers, who was to await Mr. Smith's message; got into the car with Mr. Neville, and we were off.
Of the journey that followed, I have the vaguest remembrance; I was too miserable. My stepfather had become so much to me; I loved him as well as though he had been my own father. I think that I have known few men who could, with so much right, say: "I have lived as a gentleman should."