If pique at her position in the family with Allan had made her accept, with a certain degree of equanimity, the attentions of Holcroft, she now began to feel a pleasure that she had not more fully encouraged them. At such moments as the present Allan felt that this fair girl, who had ever been his friend--cherished as a sister--this sweet cousin with the violet eyes and rich brown hair--was dear to him with a tenderness to which he could scarcely give a name, unless it were purest love; and she might have read it in his eyes, intense and strong, but for that spirit of wilfulness which led her to temporise--was it to tyrannise?--or play with it and him. But may a girl really love a man till she is certain of being loved in return? For Allan, baffled by her manner, had said nothing very pointed as yet, as if he based all their future on her father's will; and times there were when in pique he dropped his way of treating her half playfully, half deferentially, and became absolutely cold. In fact, the thoughts of Olive, apart from her jealous pride, were somewhat difficult to analyse; but, as yet, she deemed that she could only regard him with a kind of sisterly attention; while he, when not irritated by the presence of Holcroft, would say to Eveline, 'When we are alone, and can slip back into our old memories, I shall soon teach her to love me.' 'But meantime,' replied his sister, 'you are the most tiresome couple in the world.' 'I wish Mr. Holcroft or some one else would join us,' said Olive, looking round in her saddle. 'Why, it is always Mr. Holcroft!' exclaimed Allan. 'You are so provokingly silent. For more than a mile you have not once spoken to me. It is stupid to be so _triste_! Surely there is some one else whose society you prefer, or with whom you would be more lively?' 'Olive!' said he, on hearing this blunt and pointed remark--both curiously so for her. 'You are surely not jealous of anyone?' he added. 'Jealous!' echoed the girl, with a strange but affected kind of lazy scorn; 'why should I be so, and of _whom_?' 'Well may you ask, of whom could you be so?' replied Allan, pointedly--so much so that she coloured; 'though I, of course, matter little to you.' 'Allan, you are very wrong to say so,' said the girl, softly. 'Then I am not quite indifferent to you?' urged Allan, impulsively now; 'you do care for me a little?' 'Certainly--a good deal, if it is any satisfaction to you; but there--don't touch my bridle hand, or you will make my horse shy. How can you be so tiresome!' Allan sighed, and yet he regarded her, in her loveliness and insouciance, with an expression just then of mingled amusement, annoyance, and regard in his dark hazel eyes. With all the love that had been growing in his heart for Olive, he had been in no hurry to urge his suit, for, though impetuous by nature, he could be reserved and cautious enough at times; but now his heart flew to his head, and he said, bluntly,