'Take heart, man; we've lots of life before us--life in Egypt perhaps. There is Eveline sitting alone; take another turn with her, and then we'll have some of Mumms' extra dry together.' Eveline had opened an album as Cameron drew near her, but closed it instantly as the first photo that met her eyes was a fine cabinet one of Sir Paget. There was an expression of pensive sweetness in her otherwise radiant face, for she, poor girl, never for a moment forgot that a parting--too probably a final one it might prove--was close at hand now, and, after the two past delightful months, how dreary would the future seem! 'Are you tired?' said a tender voice in her ear; 'it is our dance, I think--but would you rather sit it out?' 'A little promenade rather.' He bowed, and, rising, she took his proffered arm. They made a circuit of the room once or twice, and then, lured no doubt by the coolness and seclusion of a long corridor, entered it, unnoticed as they thought; but the watchful gaze of Lady Aberfeldie had followed them. There was much to see in this long, stately, and vaulted corridor, and its deeply embayed windows overlooking the rock on which the oldest part of Dundargue is perched. Its floor was of _parqueterie_; its walls of wainscot, with massively framed old pictures; some trophies of arms and family armour hung there, and the windows were furnished with ancient stone seats and modern stained glass, through which the radiance of the setting sun was contending with the dim shaded lamps. Specimens of unique china and frail goblets of Venetian glass, with other objects of 'bigotry and virtue,' as Holcroft had called them, were there in oaken cabinets and on exquisite brackets. Among other things, on a pedestal, skilfully stuffed, the last golden eagle that had been shot at the Birks of Aberfeldie, by the gun of Dugald Glas, a glorious bird that measured five feet from tip to tip of his shining pinions; yet none of these things caught the attention of the two promenaders. Her hand was on his arm; involuntarily that arm pressed the soft and tremulous fingers which rested there, and in another moment his hand stole over them without their being withdrawn--nay, it seemed as if their load became more heavy. Eveline was not unaware that there was something morally wrong in the situation; but, then, 'the situation had its charm.' 'Eveline!' Cameron had never before ventured to call her by her Christian name, nor, until it passed his lips half unconsciously now, had he an intention of so uttering it; but that utterance seemed scarcely a new revelation to the girl. Soft and lovely was the shy smile upon her upturned face as they stood within the deep bay of a window. Was it that smile, or what, that dazed Evan Cameron and swept his senses away; but he caught her suddenly in his arms and kissed her lips and eyes, whispering, 'Oh! Eveline, my darling--my darling!'