Taking the blossoms tenderly he lifted them to his lips. “What a pretty idea! Who but you would have thought of rewarding a common deed of kindness so sweetly? I shall cherish these flowers, they are so like you. Did you really pick them for me?”
“Yes, and selected them out of many. It was all I had. If ever I can reward you better tell me, for I would willingly do you any favor to pay the debt of gratitude I owe you. I assure you I feel my obligation deeply,” said Millicent, blushing.
“There is a reward you could give me now; but I scarcely dare ask it, for I know it to be more than I deserve.” And the captain gazed at Millicent with a look that brought a bright blush to the young girl’s cheek.
“Perhaps it is not,” she replied, hesitatingly. “I don’t think I understand you.”
“Well, then, Millicent,—may I call you that?—the drawing-room term of Miss does not suit our simple life here.” And, as she nodded assent, he continued, “Will you answer a question, even a hard one?”
“I will try.”
“Tell me, then, if ever in the heart where the plant of gratitude grew another far sweeter flower has grown?”
“That of friendship do you mean?”
“Yes; the plant might be called friendship, but its blossom is love. Ah, Millicent! may I not take the fairest of these sweet flowers, and, placing it in the centre, call it love surrounded by gratitude? Then would my nosegay be perfect indeed.”
Millicent looked, beyond the ardent gaze of the captain, into the lake, and made no reply.