“Please don’t bring up that affair,” urged the little madcap. “It is all dead, buried and forgotten long ago.”
“Very well,” I said, looking straight into her big, velvety eyes so full of expression. “But remember that your affection is absolutely forbidden except towards a man of your own birth and station.”
“I know,” she cried, with a quick impatience. “I’m unlike any other girl. I am forbidden to speak to a commoner.”
“Not in England. Preserve your incognito, and nobody will know. At His Majesty’s desire, I have obtained leave of absence from the service for twelve months, in order to become your guardian.”
“Well, dear old Uncle Colin, you are the only person I would have chosen. Isn’t that nice of me to say so?” she asked, with a tantalising smile.
“But I tell you I shall show you no leniency if you break any of the rules which must, of necessity, be laid down,” I declared severely. “As soon as I find myself well enough, you will take Miss West, your old governess, and Davey, your English maid, to England, and I will come and render you assistance in settling down somewhere in comfort.”
“At Eastbourne?” she cried in enthusiasm. “We’ll go there. Do let us go there?”
“Probably at Brighton,” I said quietly. “It would be gayer for you, and—well, I will be quite frank—I think there are one or two young men whom you know in Eastbourne. Hence it is not quite to your advantage to return there.”
She pouted prettily in displeasure.
“Brighton is within an hour of London, as you know,” I went on, extolling the praises of the place.