“Father does not like strangers,” she said, blushing as she thought of the inhospitable scene of the preceding night. “He says that the world is a cruel, wicked place, and that everybody is unhappy there. But I think he must be wrong. You don’t look unhappy.”
“I am not unhappy now,” said Jack.
“I am so glad,” she said; “why are you not?”
“Because I am with you.”
“Are you?” she said, gently. “Then it must be because I am with you that I feel so happy.”
The Savage flushed and he looked down, striving to still the sudden throb of pleasure with which his heart beat.
“Confound it,” he muttered, “I must go! I can’t be such a cad as to stop any longer; she oughtn’t to say this sort of thing, and yet I—I can’t tell her so! No! I must go!” and he rose and took out his watch.
“I am afraid I must be on the tramp.”
“Yes,” she assented; “you have stayed too long. I hope you will find that the Squire Davenant has forgiven you. I think he cannot help it. And you will have your fortune and will go back into the world, and will quite forget that you lost your way in Warden Forest. But I shall not forget it; I shall often think of it.”
“No,” he said, “I shan’t forget it. But in case I should, will you give me something—no, I won’t ask it.”