Eveline saw him, and for a moment—but a moment only—raised her, veil.
The tale of all she had endured was written in the wistful and mournful expression of her soft hazel eyes, and all who knew her now remarked that, though she sometimes smiled, she never laughed.
She felt her lips quiver and the lines of them tighten, for we may control deep emotion in the eyes, but on the mouth, never.
Her whole heart and soul were concentrated in the effort to appear calm and look on, though her eyes were dim with the tears in which she feared just then to indulge.
'Oh, my darling!' she whispered to herself, again and again, but voicelessly, in her heart. 'My dear love—my brave Evan—I shall never see you again!'
Surreptitiously she concealed her tear-soaked handkerchief in her pocket, and drew forth another—a fresh one redolent of eau-de-Cologne. Quickly though she did it, Sir Paget saw the act, drew his own conclusions therefrom, and thought himself an ass for having accorded her permission to see the Black Watch depart.
Their recent brief meeting—the memory of the passionate kisses that should never have been given or taken—added now to the supremeness of the present moment.
He only appeared to bow to her; but as he gazed with eyes of passionate yearning on her flower-like face, the lips he had kissed so often, the eyes that had so often looked with love into his, and did so now, his heart filled with a wild and desperate longing to take her to his breast and cover her face with kisses again.
But the drums beat, the pipes played loud and high, the crowds cheered, and the forward march went ruthlessly on.
All this fuss of Eveline's, thought Sir Paget, could not be merely for the departure of her brother's regiment!