'Let us stop,' she cried, 'I must get off and sit down here and enjoy this in peace.' 'Let us walk a little,' said Desvoeux, 'and send our ponies on to await us at the half-way point. Are you too tired?' 'I am not a bit tired,' Maud said, glowing with pleasure; 'it is too lovely to think of it. This is the best of all the day's pleasures.' 'It is lovely,' said her companion, 'but to me its greatest charm is that I have you to myself.' 'Well,' said Maud, who was accustomed to pulling up Desvoeux when he became inconveniently sentimental, 'we have had a delightful day and great fun. I wish we had had the forfeits all the same and made General Beau do something nice. You stopped it all, Mr. Desvoeux, by being so idle. Why did you blow your kiss into the air?' 'It was the only thing I could do with it,' said Desvoeux, 'and see--it has alighted on your cheek!' 'And _that_ on your arm,' cried Maud, wielding her whip with a sudden vehemence which made Desvoeux feel that his kiss had been, at any rate, well paid for; 'when I want to be kissed I will tell you; but no robberies!' 'You little spitfire!' said Desvoeux, rubbing his shoulder with a comic air. 'Well,' said Maud, suddenly repentant, and trying her whip across her knee, 'it _does_ hurt, I confess. I beg your pardon. You deserved it, however, and I was in a passion at the moment. Do you forgive me?' She gave him her hand--that little, delicate, exquisitely-fashioned piece of Nature's workmanship, which Desvoeux had often vowed was the most beautiful thing in India. Its very touch electrified him. 'Forgive you?' he said, with a sudden sadness in his voice; 'you hurt me once in good earnest, and I forgave you that, and do forgive it, but it hurts me still.' Desvoeux's voice trembled with feeling. Something in his look struck Maud with a sudden pang of pity, sympathy, remorse. Was Desvoeux then really suffering, and his life darkened on account of her? A sudden rush of sentiment streamed across her soul, carrying everything before it. A passionate, irresistible impulse possessed her. She stooped towards him, bent her cheek, flushed with excitement, to his, pressed to his the lips on which Desvoeux's thoughts had dwelt a hundred times in impassioned reverie, and kissed him with a long, sweet, earnest caress, the sudden outburst of gratitude, tenderness, regret. Desvoeux said not a word, but he still kept possession of her hand, and the two stood looking silently across the misty valley and the precipice that fell away at their feet into solemn gloom below. The tramp of a horse's feet was heard behind them and Boldero came trotting innocently up the path. 'We are walking home,' Maud said, 'the night is so delicious. You may get off and come with us, if you please.' Boldero, who would have jumped over the mountain-side if Maud had bidden him, at once dismounted. Desvoeux fell behind, and said not one word during the rest of the homeward journey. CHAPTER XXXVII. ILL NEWS FLY APACE.