"How strange—when I was here too!" said Madeline, whose fine eyes sparkled with pleasure and drollery.
"A fortunate coincidence!" said Florence, caressing her hands.
"To-day I was in Edinburgh with the queen, and being on my way home to Preston, she gave me an alms for the Franciscan at Kilmartin here, with that which the good man values more,—a fragment of St. Martin's garment, no larger than a testoon; but brought from her sister, Madame the prioress of Rheims, by Monsieur d'Oysell, the ambassador."
"And you are returning——"
"To Preston Tower."
"And to your uncle Claude?"
"Yes."
"When, so near—our residences being within view of each other,—may I hope to see you?" urged Florence; "may I hope that we shall meet, in some place where none can see or interrupt us?"
A pressure of his hand and a sweet smile were his assuring reply.
"Thanks, dear, dear Madeline; then I may escort you eastward?" said he anxiously.