'Yes; Jack was a soldier's dog—was with Roberts' army in India, and in more than one battle,' replied Mary.
'I too have been in India—a bond between Jack and me,' said Colville, as he produced a biscuit from his pocket, and the dog caught it with a snap.
'He wags his dear old tail quite as if he recognised a comrade,' said Mary, laughing, while Colville accompanied her along the narrow path over which the silver birches drooped their graceful foliage.
'And so you and your sister, Miss Ellinor, are cousins of my brother-officer, Wellwood?' said Colville, after a pause, and a little abruptly, as Mary thought.
'I am sorry to say we are.'
'Why sorry—he is not half a bad fellow?'
'Well, I have no reason to be otherwise than quite indifferent on the subject of his existence. It was some family matter. Our parents were never friends, and he—he——'
'What?'
'Has chosen to forget there were such persons in the world as Ellinor and I; and considering that we have so few relations—none else nearly now——' Mary paused, and her eyes fell on the chaplets through which her slender arm was passed.
'He could never have seen you,' said Colville, earnestly; 'had he done so he would never have forgotten you, believe me; and when I tell him——'