"I have come to bid adieu to your papa and yourself," said Derval.
"I am so sorry he is from home," she replied, as she gave him her hand, and with more self-possession than she might have had, if a few years older, invited him at once to be seated. The soft mignonne face seemed to Derval's eyes more beautiful than ever in its childlike purity, and her violet eyes with their long lashes were full of a bright and earnest expression.
After a little pause, he placed the locket in her hand.
"This, of course, is yours; I found it to-day at the place where—where—I first had the pleasure of meeting you," said he, seeing that she shivered and half closed her eyes.
"Oh, do not speak of that place!" she exclaimed, lifting up her hands; "I shall never, never forget you or it either."
"I am sorry that the memory of me should be combined with a thought of horror."
"Do not imagine I shall think of you in that way," she said very earnestly; "and as for the locket—will you accept it—will you permit me to give it to you? Pray do. Papa will be so pleased!"
And springing to his side, the engaging creature, with rapid and deft little fingers, attached it to his watch-chain, exclaiming gleefully:
"Now, does it not look pretty?'
"Thanks, my dear Miss Clara," said Derval, looking almost tenderly into her bright upturned face; "but there is something that would make it look prettier and enhance its value to me."