'Yes. Didst hear that at Rimbolton?'
'Yes; and elsewhere too.'
'Then ye have doubtless heard most tidings?'
'Yes, Deb. Tidings spread like wild-fire on a country-side; but I don't credit all I hear, or I should believe ye to be betrothed to Adam Sinclair.'
'When I tell you, you may believe that, not till then,' answered the maiden.
Then followed a long silence, and Kingston looked on vacancy through the fading rose on Deborah's breast. O irrevocable past! O vague dark future! 'You used to hate me, Deb,' said he suddenly, at last.
'Ay? Did I? Well, perhaps I hate you now.'
'Perhaps you are grown a little hypocrite, as you give me kind smiles in place o' former frowns.'
'That is a necessary duty. I smile at Master Sinclair.'
'There is no disguise there. It springs from the heart, Deb.'