After a pause he said,
'Those scarlet berries do not become your complexion. They are suited to a dark beauty, not a fair one.'
'Ellinor pinned them in my collarette,' replied Mary, colouring now.
'Give me the berries, and I shall substitute this,' he urged, taking the little bouquet of stephenotis buds and ferns from his lapelle. 'Do exchange with me,' he added, softly and tenderly.
'But Miss Galloway—her gift to you—what will she think?' urged Mary, timidly.
'She will never notice the change; and if she does, what then?'
Mary thought this strange and ungallant, but ere she could prevent him, his deft hands had quickly achieved the exchange, and her scarlet berries were in his button-hole.
'I cannot have you wear these, even if I wear your rosebuds. Give them back to me, please, Captain Colville.'
And she stretched out her hand imploringly, but he shook his head and smiled with a curious satisfied smile; and again Mary insisted on a re-exchange of the flowers.
'Please, do not urge me,' said he, also adopting an imploring tone. 'I wish to keep them—to keep them for ever, if you will permit me; whatever has touched your cheek—your hand, must be sacred to me,' he added, with perfect earnestness of manner.