She hesitated a little, then by degrees drew nearer, and, bending down, began to find the flowers one by one. Peter had scattered them wide, so that at first the pair were some way apart, but when only a few remained, they drew close. Now there was but one violet left, and, both stretching for it, their hands met. Margaret held the violet, and Peter held Margaret’s fingers. Thus linked they straightened themselves, and as they rose their faces were very near together and oh! most sweet were Margaret’s wonderful eyes; while in the eyes of Peter there shone a flame. For a second they looked at each other, and then of a sudden he kissed her on the lips. CHAPTER IV. LOVERS DEAR. “Peter!” gasped Margaret—“Peter!” But Peter made no answer, only he who had been red of face went white, so that the mark of the sword-cut across his cheek showed like a scarlet line upon a cloth. “Peter!” repeated Margaret, pulling at her hand which he still held, “do you know what you have done?” “It seems that you do, so what need is there for me to tell you?” he muttered. “Then it was not an accident; you really meant it, and you are not ashamed.” “If it was, I hope that I may meet with more such accidents.” “Peter, leave go of me. I am going to tell my father, at once.” His face brightened. “Tell him by all means,” he said; “he won’t mind. He told me——” “Peter, how dare you add falsehood to—to—you know what. Do you mean to say that my father told you to kiss me, and at six o’clock in the morning, too?” “He said nothing about kissing, but I suppose he meant it. He said that I might ask you to marry me.” “That,” replied Margaret, “is a very different thing. If you had asked me to marry you, and, after thinking it over for a long while, I had answered Yes, which of course I should not have done, then, perhaps, before we were married you might have—Well, Peter, you have begun at the wrong end, which is very shameless and wicked of you, and I shall never speak to you again.” “I daresay,” said Peter resignedly; “all the more reason why I should speak to you while I have the chance. No, you shan’t go till you have heard me. Listen. I have been in love with you since you were twelve years old—” “That must be another falsehood, Peter, or you have gone mad. If you had been in love with me for eleven years, you would have said so.” “I wanted to, always, but your father refused me leave. I asked him fifteen months ago, but he put me on my word to say nothing.” “To say nothing—yes, but he could not make you promise to show nothing.” “I thought that the one thing meant the other; I see now that I have been a fool, and, I suppose, have overstayed my market,” and he looked so depressed that Margaret relented a little. “Well,” she said, “at any rate it was honest, and of course I am glad that you were honest.” “You said just now that I told falsehoods—twice; if I am honest, how can I tell falsehoods?”