Sir John lowered the pistol and, removing his hat, bowed.
“Welcome, Phyllida!” said he.
“That ain’t my name,” she answered.
“Then it should be, for ’tis a charming name and suits you.”
“You—you’m English, sir?” she questioned.
“I thank God!” he answered gravely.
“Then—oh, I am safe!” she sighed, and sinking upon the grassy bank, hid her face in her hands.
“Safe?” he repeated, touching her bowed head very gently. “Never doubt it, child—all heaven be my witness. ’Tis easy to guess you English also, and of the sweet south country, I think?”
At this she raised her head and he saw a handsome face framed in dark, rebellious curls, eyes wide and innocent, and a vivid, full-lipped mouth.