CHAPTER IV.
LOVERS DEAR "Peter!" gasped Margaret--"_Peter!_" But Peter made no answer, only he who had been red of face went white, so that the mark of the sword-cut across his cheek showed like a scarlet line upon a cloth.
"Peter!" repeated Margaret, pulling at her hand which he still held, "do you know what you have done ?" "It seems that you do, so what need is there for me to tell you ?" he muttered.
"Then it was not an accident; you really meant it, and you are not ashamed." "If it was, I hope that I may meet with more such accidents." "Peter, leave go of me.

I am going to tell my father, at once." His face brightened.
"Tell him by all means," he said; "he won't mind.

He told me----" "Peter, how dare you add falsehood to--to--you know what.

Do you mean to say that my father told you to kiss me, and at six o'clock in the morning, too ?" "He said nothing about kissing, but I suppose he meant it.

He said that I might ask you to marry me." "That," replied Margaret, "is a very different thing.