"There is in my case," I replied. "We will buy some fresh violets to-day, for one thing."
"Shall we get them, miss, when we are going into the Park, or when we are coming out?"
"I want to sit just where I sat yesterday," I answered; "and while I am there you can buy them, as you did yesterday."
"Oh, yes, miss; I quite understand," replied Morris. Then she added: "It must be nice, very nice, to be married, and to be very rich. But it must be lovely to be married when you care for the man with all your heart, and he is poor, very poor. I'm not meaning anything special, miss, but it's the spring time, and, as the poet says, it makes my fancy 'lightly turn to thoughts of love.'"
I made no reply. I had planned my visit to the Park so that it should take place almost precisely at eleven o'clock, and when I got to the neighbourhood of the seats where Morris and I had rested yesterday, I perceived that one of them was occupied by a tall young man in a morning suit of dark grey tweed. The moment he saw me he started to his feet, and I turned quickly to Morris.
"Go, Morris," I said, "and buy violets—three shillingsworth, please, and get as many white violets as ever you can."
"And shall I meet you inside the gates, miss?" asked the discreet Morris.
"Yes," I answered; "go at once."
She turned on her heel, tripping away through the long vista of trees without once looking back. Captain Carbury came eagerly forward. He held out his strong hand, and took one of mine; he held my hand very tightly. I sat down—I felt my breath coming fast. I had thought of this hour ever since I had last parted with him, and now that it had come I found that I had not in my imagination, even for one moment, believed that it was half as good as it proved to be.
"Won't you look at me, Heather?" he said, and he bent down and tried to peep at my eyes from under my shady hat. I raised them just for a minute.