"By the way, Mr. Norcliff, you were to have shown me the house in which Alexander Selkirk—or Robinson Crusoe—was born in 1676, I think you said?"
"Oh; it is only a cottage, consisting of one storey and a garret; but the next time we come to Largo, I shall show you his flip-can, musket, and a lock of his hair."
"Ah, that reminds me, Mr. Norcliff, that you must return to me the lock of hair which you obtained when inspired with romance by Miss Calderwood's legend last night."
"Lady Louisa, I implore your permission to retain it," said I, in a low voice.
"To what end, or for what reason?" she asked, with a furtive smile.
"I am going far, far away, and it will serve as a memento of many happy days, and of one whom I shall never cease to remember, but with——"
"Why, you don't mean to say that—that you are serious?" she asked, in a voice that betrayed emotion, while my heart rose to my trembling lips, and I turned to gaze upon her with an unmistakable expression of love and tenderness, which made her colour come and go visibly.
Reassuring herself, she began to smile.
"Perhaps your creed is a soldier's one?" said she, with a little convulsive laugh, as she tied her veil under her chin.
"A soldier's! I hope so; but in what sense do you mean?"