The choir was now fully assembled; the organist struck up the anthem, the rest were silent to listen, and Ralph Loraine went out to look for his ward. He came round the east end of the old church, and stood still for a moment in the shadow. There were two people standing at the edge of the path, looking down on the grave at their feet, where the lantern's light shewed the shining holly upon the upright marble cross. It shewed too the face of his friend's child; a beautiful face, as his step-mother had said, with large dark eyes and wavy dusky hair, a clear delicate complexion with a little rose-flush on the cheeks, and full red lips half-parted by the sweetest smile he had ever seen; with the same erect carriage of the head, the same fearless straight regard which had characterised her father.
It was so strange to see her there a woman, whom he had left a mere girl; and as he looked on the fair face, something seemed to whisper that the ideal beauty he had so often dreamed of was before him at last. They moved away, and came slowly nearer, and paused again where he could see her companion; and for a moment he almost hated the man for his youth, and his handsome face, and the deep-blue eyes aflame with passion-fire as they rested on the child of his dead friend; and another whisper which silenced the first, told him how fitted was each for the other.
'If I were lying there,' said Vere Leveson, and Ralph could hear every one of the foolish, softly spoken words, 'would you ever make wreaths for me, I wonder?'
'I don't know.'
'Don't you? I wish you did; for I thought just now I should be glad to be lying there, if you would remember me.'
Ralph had heard enough, and tried to slip away unseen; but the gravel crunched under his feet and betrayed him.
Louise started, and a bright vivid blush covered her face as she sprang forward. 'Lorrie! Oh, how glad I am to see you again!' she cried, as she took both his hands in hers and lifted her cheek for his kiss.
He felt half sorry she had done so; that and the old childish name put him immediately in his place as guardian, and made him ashamed of his thoughts. 'How you are altered, Louise!' he said, looking down at her admiringly. 'I think I should hardly have known you!'
'I should have known you, Lorrie, anywhere,' she said reproachfully.
'That is rather different,' he said; 'when we once get old, we don't change so quickly.'