But the evening passed on tranquilly, and to all appearance pleasantly, without a word or look more than might have been between real brother and sister. Kenneth talked kindly--tenderly even--of the past; repeated more than once the pleasure it had been to him to find again his old friend so little changed, so completely his old friend still. The boys came in to say good-night, and "good-bye, alas! my lads," added their tall friend with a sigh. "Don't forget me quite, Hal and Charlie, and don't let your mother forget me either, eh?" To which the little fellows replied solemnly, though hardly understanding why he patted their curly heads with a lingering hand this evening, or why mamma looked grave at his words. And Anne bore it all without flinching, and smiled and talked a little more than usual perhaps, though all the time her heart was bursting, and Kenneth wondered more than ever if, after all, she _had_ "much heart or feeling to speak of." "You will be bringing back a wife with you perhaps," she said once. "Shall you tell her about your sister Anne, Kenneth?" Major Graham looked at her earnestly for half an instant before he replied, but Anne's eyes were not turned towards him, and she did not see the look. And his words almost belied it. "Certainly I shall tell her of you," he said, "that is to say, if she ever comes to exist. At present few things are less probable. Still I am old enough now never to say, '_Fontaine, je ne boirai jamais de ton eau._' But," he went on, "I may return to find _you_ married again, Anne. You are still so young and you are rather lonely." "No," said Anne with a sudden fierceness which he had never seen in her before, "I shall _never_ marry again--_never_," and she looked him full in the face with a strange sparkle in her eyes which almost frightened him. "I beg your pardon," he said meekly. And though the momentary excitement faded as quickly as it had come, and Anne, murmuring some half-intelligible excuse, was again her quiet self, this momentary glimpse of a fierier nature beneath gave him food for reflection. "Can Medway have not been what he seemed on the surface, after all?" he thought to himself. "What can make her so vindictive against matrimony?" But it was growing late, and Kenneth had still some last preparations to make. He rose slowly and reluctantly from his chair. "I must be going, I fear," he said. Anne too had risen. They stood together on the hearthrug. A slight, very slight shiver passed through her. Kenneth perceived it. "You have caught cold, I fear," he said kindly; for the room was warm and the fire was burning brightly. "No, I don't think so," she said indifferently. "You will write to me now and then?" he said next. "Oh, certainly--not very often perhaps," she replied lightly, "but now and then. Stay," and she turned away towards her writing-table, "tell me exactly how to address you. Your name--is your surname enough?--there is no other Graham in your regiment?"