"Well, anyhow, you should have known," she concluded, with truly feminine inconsistency.
"Perhaps," smiled Robert; "but I'd rather not know, and then there'd be an excuse for your telling me."
A faint colour came into the girl's cheeks. "I had an awful dream about you last night," she said, in a low tone; "I dreamed you were drowned in the lake."
Robert started, but managed to control his voice. "I'm not drowned," he answered, with apparent lightness; but he was wondering whether Ronald had broken his promise. Still, no one had crossed the river, from either side, since the accident—he was sure of that.
"Be careful, won't you?" Beatrice pleaded earnestly.
"Certainly—but would you care?"
All the rosy tints faded from her face and the mist came into her eyes. Her "yes" was scarcely audible, but it moved the man strangely. "I'd do anything to please you, my dear—cousin," he said tenderly.
"Quarrelling?" asked Mackenzie, from the doorway.
"Not this time," laughed the girl.