'I will win them for your sake, an you will let me, Marjorie!' I cried.
'Win them, then, Launcelot,' she made me answer, suddenly breaking from her reserve, 'win them for my sake—and see, meantime you shall wear my colours.'
And she undid a brooch of gold whereon were the lilies of France, that were the badge of her house, and setting it on the velvet collar of my coat she gave a little dainty pat to the place where she put it.
'It sets you well,' she said, pushing my hair to one side to look at me; 'two such I have. Wear you one and I shall wear the other—for Marjorie Kennedy and the honour of Culzean.'
It sounded like a sacred oath rather than the posy of a love-gift: 'For Marjorie Kennedy and the honour of Culzean!'
Then most humbly would I have lifted her fingers to my lips and kissed them, not daring more; but she put her hand on my head, for she was tall (though not as tall as I), and bent sweetly to me.
The blood of all my heart fled insurgent to my ears, deafening me, as I also stooped toward her.
'No, not there,' she whispered, and kissed me gently on the brow.
'My laddie,' she said, 'be brave, true, noble, and one day you shall know root and branch what the love of woman is.'
And waving me not to follow her, she went in with her head turned away from my sight.