"Fie, sir, but that is what a man of honour should never do, though, certes, it is many a long year since you vowed to be my true knight for ever and ever."
She blushed rosy-red over the last words, only afterwards realising their meaning.
But the blush became her, rendering her more enchanting than ever.
Michael, however, had paled, for he knew now that this was the little Brown Fairy of other days, grown into lovelier girlhood.
Yet was not her name Gabrielle Conyers, daughter to the man whom his father had betrayed?
Instinct and impulse ofttimes help a woman better than long training in worldly wisdom. Gabrielle had heard the story of Stephen Berrington. But she held out friendly hands to his son.
"I am all alone," she murmured plaintively, "and very dull. Come and help me gather my primroses."
Half-conquered by a flash from hazel eyes, the young man took a step forward.
"But——" he answered with an effort. "Perhaps, madam, you do not know my name is Berrington."
An adorable dimple completed the conquest.