They had reached the gate leading into her father's garden, and they passed in together. She looked round at him for a moment and smiled, and held out her hand quite frankly, with much of the girlish bashfulness gone. "No, I sha'n't forget you, Comethup," she said. "I sha'n't forget that you were my first friend. Do you remember the night, long ago, when you found me here in this garden? And then afterward you brought the captain to me. How could I forget?" He took the hand, and held it in both his own. "I was quite sure you wouldn't, 'Linda," he said, gladly. "I never forgot you all the years I was at school, although I couldn't see you. But I'll see you often now; I shall be coming down from London to see the captain, I expect." "London?" she said, absently. "Every one seems to go to London. Brian has gone there." There came again that little chill feeling at his heart to curb his gladness. "Yes," he said, slowly, "I suppose you've seen a great deal of Brian?" "Oh, there was no one else to see, except the captain. Brian and I have always been good friends; I think he was quite sorry to go away from me." Comethup stirred the leaves impatiently with his foot. "I suppose--I suppose you're very--very fond of Brian?" She laughed gayly, and twisted herself so that her skirt twirled about her. "Oh, yes," she said, "we got on very well together. He was always getting into trouble, poor boy, and then he used to come to me for advice. You see, I'd known him always; we met each other every day." Comethup found himself making a rough calculation of what eight times three hundred and sixty-five would be, but checked himself in the midst of it to ask, "I suppose--you're ever so much fonder of him than you are of me?" She laughed again, and took a step or two toward the house, then came back to him. "I didn't say so," she said, softly. "Besides, what does it matter?" "Oh, nothing," said Comethup. "Only I should like you--I should like you to be fond of me; I should like----" "I _am_ fond of you, Comethup," she said; and laughed again, in that provoking fashion she had. He laughed too, then, and held out his hand sheepishly. "Good-night, 'Linda," he said. She slipped her fingers round his, and drew nearer to him. "Don't be cross," she said, in a whisper. "I love all my friends. You may kiss me if you like."