They had gone but a few steps when an idea struck the lieutenant. He stopped, pressed his hand against his side, and gazed beseechingly at his companion.
"Oh, what is it?" she cried; "your wound? You ought not to have come out. What shall we do?"
"I am afraid," answered this mendacious deceiver; "I am sorry to trouble you, but I will have to be helped up the hill, after all. You see——"
"Of course, of course. How thoughtless of me! I'll call Captain Barry at once."
"Oh, no; that will be unnecessary. If you will give me your hand I think I can manage."
She extended her hand to him instantly with all the freedom of her character, and her ready offer shamed him again. His repentance of his subterfuge did not rise to the renunciation point, for it must be confessed that he seized the beautiful, sunburnt little hand with avidity, and clung to it as if he really craved assistance. She helped him religiously up the hill, and, as he showed no desire to relinquish her hand when they reached the top, she asked him if he did not feel able to walk alone now; and when he was forced to reply in the affirmative, she drew it gently away.
"You see," he said, "it was so delightful, I quite forgot."
"What was delightful?"
"To have reached the top of the hill; you know it was so pleasant, I—I—forgot—I was holding your hand."
If Emily had been a modern young woman she might have asked him how he could ever have forgotten for a moment that he was holding her hand; but as his glance carried his meaning home to her she flushed deeply. The admiral's voice calling to them from the door-way put an end to a scene which was delightful to both of them.