"I do forgive you," she answered, smiling, and another long pressure of the hand attested their reconciliation.
"Calm a penitent spirit by a stroll on the terrace, and talk to me, that I may forget my fault and its cause. Let me hear your voice again, and let me hear it till Lord Farnborough arrives."
The friends walked nearly an hour together. Christobelle's spirits were again elevated, and she chatted with renewed vivacity. Sir John Spottiswoode walked smilingly by her side, listening to her anticipations of his illness dispersing in the fresh air of Lochleven; but he was not himself. He replied to her remarks, and lent his powers in playful conversation; but they were not given. He often sighed, and repeatedly compelled his companion to bespeak his attention.
"You tell me to chat, and your mind is far away," she said, at last, weary with receiving no reply.
"But I have not lost a word. I hear you with the most vivid attention, because you will not long honour me."
"Why so, I pray you, gentle coz?"
"You will be engrossed by Lord Farnborough!"
"That, then, will be your own fault!"
He looked earnestly in Christobelle's face, and shook his head.
"Say it once more, my pupil."