Though Jeremy was on this occasion disappointed of seeing Eva, on the following morning he was so fortunate as to meet her and her sister walking on the beach. But when he got into her gracious presence he found somehow that he had very little to say; and the walk would, to tell the truth, have been rather dull, if it had not occasionally been enlivened by flashes of Florence’s caustic wit. On the next day, however, he returned to the charge with several hundredweight of the roots of a certain flower which Eva had expressed a desire to possess. And so it went on till at last his shyness wore off a little, and they grew very good friends. Of course all this did not escape Florence’s sharp eyes, and one day, just after Jeremy had paid her sister a lumbering compliment and departed, she summarised her observations thus: “That moon-calf is falling in love with you, Eva.” “Nonsense, Florence! and why should you call him a moon-calf? It is not nice to talk of people so.” “Well, if you can find a better definition, I am willing to adopt it.” “I think that he is an honest gentleman-like boy; and even if he were falling in love with me, I do not think there would be anything to be ashamed of—there!” “Dear me, what a fuss we are in! Do you know, I shall soon begin to think that you are falling in love with the ‘honest gentleman-like boy’—yes, that is a better title than moon-calf, though not so nervous.” Here Eva marched off in a huff. “Well, Jeremy, and how are you getting on with the beautiful Eva?” asked Dorothy that same day. “I say, Doll,” replied Jeremy, whose general appearance was that of a man plunged into the depths of misery, “don’t laugh at a fellow; if you only knew what I feel—inside, you know—you wouldn’t——” “What! are you not well? have some brandy?” suggested his sister, in genuine alarm. “Don’t be an idiot, Doll; it isn’t my stomach, it’s here;” and he knocked his right lung, under the impression that he was indicating the position of his heart. “And what do you feel, Jeremy?” “Feel!” he answered with a groan; “what don’t I feel? When I am away from her I feel a sort of sinking, just like one does when one has to go without one’s dinner, only it’s always there. When she looks at me I go hot and cold all over, and when she smiles it’s just as though one had killed a couple of woodcocks right and left.” “Good gracious, Jeremy!” interposed his sister, who was beginning to think he had gone off his head; “and what happens if she doesn’t smile?” “Ah, then,” he replied, sadly, “it’s as though one had missed them both.” Though his similes were peculiar, it was clear to his sister that the feeling he meant to convey was genuine enough. “Are you really fond of this girl, Jeremy dear?” she said gently. “Well, Doll, you know, I suppose I am.” “Then why don’t you ask her to marry you?” “To marry _me!_ Why, I am not fit to clean her shoes.” “An honest gentleman is fit for any woman, Jeremy.”