“Why, to be alone and free from the observation of Miss Hennie Penny,” she promptly answered herself, and as promptly acted on it.

“Meg, my dear, I am aweary.  I am not accustomed to playing Swiss Family Robinson.  By your leave, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, I will wish you good-night and pleasant dreams,” and she went off into the bedroom.

“May she have as tactful a chaperone when her own time comes,” said Graeme, with a smile.  “Do you think you would sleep better if you went to bed at once or if you had a little walk first?”

“I am not the least bit sleepy,” said Margaret.

“Then a stroll will do you good,” and they went out into the night.  And Miss Penny, as she heard their feet on the cobbles, smiled to herself a little wistfully.

Such a night of stars!  The gale had swept the heavens and thinned the upper air till the Milky Way was a wide white track strewn thick with jewels, and the greater lights shone large and close.  As they sauntered in silence towards La Tour, their faces towards the stars among which their full hearts were ranging in glorious companionship, one of the lesser lights silently loosed its hold and dropped slowly from zenith to horizon, in a fiery groove that momentarily eclipsed all else.

And while Graeme was still pressing to his heart the soft arm that lay in his, in silent enjoyment of the sight and at their sharing it, another star swung loose, and another, and another, till the glittering vault seemed laced with fiery trails and they stood in rapt admiration.

“What a sight!” said Margaret softly.  “I have never seen anything like that before.”

“Nor I. The very stars rejoice with us....  You have made me the happiest man in all the world this day, Margaret.  I can hardly believe it is real ...”

“I am real,” she said, with a low warm little laugh.  “And I am happy.  Kiss me, Jock!” and he kissed her there under the falling stars, and she him, in a way that left no doubt as to what was in them, and the evening incense of the honeysuckle and hawthorn wafted fragrance all about them.

There was still a tender touch of colour in the sky over the western sea as they came out on the Eperquerie.

“When are you free, Margaret?” he asked,—­the first word since they kissed in the lane.

“I am twenty-one on New Year’s Day.”

“Six whole months!  How can we possibly wait all that time?”

“Why should we?” she asked delightfully.

“Undoubtedly—­why should we?” he said, on fire with her charming readiness.  “You are probably by this time ringed with legal pains and penalties, but they are all less than nothing.”

“What could they do?”

“I believe they clap the male malefactor into prison——­”

“I will go with you.”

“I’m not sure if there are any married cells.”

“And how long would they keep us there?”