"You would still reproach me?" said she, in a low voice.
"Nay, Aurora, on my soul I do not."
"I thank you," she replied, with her eyes brimful of tears; for in addition to the peculiar position in which we stood, nothing melts a woman's heart so much as the aspect of a fine regiment departing for foreign service in time of war. "My mother has become feeble and ailing—I shall soon be alone in the world, so think kindly of me, Basil, when you are far away, even as we shall think kindly of you, for we are the last of our family—the last of the old Gauntlets of Netherwood."
"I am, rather than you," said I, smiling.
"How?"
"Some one, of course, will marry you, so I must be the last."
She blushed painfully, and her glance wandered to Shirley, but his eyes, at least, appeared to be intent upon the marching column.
"I am going to Germany now, perhaps never to return; for news I have heard (here I referred to the strange tidings of Boisguiller) have made me, even in youth, somewhat reckless of life."
"Oh, Basil, Basil! you must not speak thus."
"Sir, Colonel Preston is looking back for you," said Major Shirley, with a slight tone of impatience and authority in his voice. "And there sounds a trumpet."