"Yes; Maurice is made a brigadier. He doesn't have to climb the ladder, you see, the ladder comes down to him. And truly he is a gallant fellow. He goes in front of his men, and laughs at danger as he laughs at fortune."
"I've got a fire in the parlor for you," she said.
He looked at her smilingly, pleased at the childish delight in his coming which she did not try to hide. Why should she? "Have you? That's pleasant. Now help me off with my cloak. I cannot unfasten that buckle at the back of the neck. Stand on the stair with the railing between us, that you may not get wet."
As she stood near him, she caught a sweet breath of English violets.
"I brought them out for you," he said, giving them to her. "See! not a stem is broken."
She ran up-stairs to put the flowers in her chamber—they were too sacred to be shared with others—and coming down, entered the parlor just after Mr. Granger. Presently Mr. Lewis appeared, and they had dinner.
The conversation chanced to turn on presentiments; and since they were all in very friendly humor, Miss Hamilton told of her afternoon terror, making it as presentable as possible. "I suffered a few minutes of mortal fear," she said. "I seemed to know that some dreadful accident had happened to one of the family. What is the meaning of those impressions that are often false, but sometimes true, and that come to us so suddenly, uninvited and unexpected?"
"They are the conclusion of which a woman is one of the premises," Mr. Lewis said in his rough way. "Did you ever hear of a man having presentiments? Of course not. He may have if his liver is out of order; not otherwise."
"I'm not bilious," pouted Miss Hamilton.