"I would scold you," the girl said, "if it were not for these. You never forget my violets."
She buried her face in the purple bloom, before she fastened the bunch on her dress.
"I have left the order with the florist," said Stewart quietly. "He will send you the violets every week, and when they are gone, I have told him about your roses. I am going away."
She looked up quickly from the flowers she had just fastened in her dress.
"For long?"
"I think so—yes."
"Where are you going?"
Stewart pulled at his gloves.
"India," he said briefly.
"You have received your orders?"