'And you knew each other--how strange!' exclaimed Lady Aberfeldie, with a brightening face. 'Yes, after a minute or two. She seems as charming a girl as one--to use a soldier's phrase--might see in the longest day's march.' 'And such she is. She did not turn back with you?' 'No, mother,' he replied, with hesitation. 'But she was, of course, glad to see you?' 'I can't say that she was particularly, mater dear; and she got into a regular pet because I dared to kiss her, even in a cousinly way.' 'Dared, my darling boy!' exclaimed his mother, indignantly. 'Fact, mater,' said the Master, smiling and twirling up the ends of his long dark moustaches. Lady Aberfeldie and her daughter exchanged a swift and mutual glance; but the latter knew more of the views of the young lady in question than the former did. 'I am glad you are pleased with Olive,' said she; 'and when your acquaintance is fully resumed you will find the dear girl all you could wish.' 'She has wonderful blue-grey eyes; they seem violet-blue when she smiles, and black when she is angry.' 'Angry?' said Lady Aberfeldie, inquiringly. 'Well, she rather looked so when I ventured to kiss her in the avenue,' said Allan, laughing, and referring to a kiss that, though snatched, he was never to forget, perhaps, in the long years that were to come. 'She has grown the very image of her mother, your poor Aunt Muriel, who was one of my bridesmaids.' By visits to the minister's manse and elsewhere Olive had wilfully and petulantly contrived to protract her absence from home to the last moment; the dressing-bell had rung, and before dinner she was hastily giving a few touches to her costume--not that she cared to attract her cousin (quite the reverse)--but she dismissed her foreign maid, Clairette Patchouli, on a sign that Eveline wished to talk with her alone. 'Now, Olive,' began the latter, 'that you have seen Allan----' 'I saw him years ago,' interrupted Olive, pettishly. 'He was a boy then; but now that he is a man, and not the boy you remember, what do you think of him?' Olive made no reply, but continued to slip her bangles on the whitest, roundest, and most taper pair of arms that ever bewildered the senses of man. 'Isn't he very handsome?' persisted Eveline. 'To partial eyes, perhaps, but there are plenty of men in the world quite as handsome--even more so, I doubt not. I like him already, but don't let him think so; besides, I also like our English visitor, Mr. Holcroft.' 'I do _not_!' said Eveline, decisively. 'Why?' 'He is horsey in bearing, and his face, though handsome, I grant you, often wears a sinister, sharp, and supercilious expression.' 'How tanned Allan is by the Indian sun!' 'I think his face and head both grand and handsome!' exclaimed his sister, with affectionate enthusiasm; 'he quite reminds me of the old Greeks.' 'I was not aware you knew any of them,' laughed Olive.