from Dumfries. Stair Garland and his
company rode with them over the wild marshes of Solway moss to the
Bridge of Gretna, where they formed into two lines, and between them
Patsy passed into England. Patsy looked out and kissed her hand to them.
They were all sitting still on their wiry little beasts except Stair,
who had dismounted, and stood uncovered till the carriage, with its two
flanking riders, had passed into the distance. Stair got blown a kiss
all to himself, but if he saw it he took no notice, and so was left
standing pensive and motionless by the end of Gretna Bridge, the last
thing that Patsy could see on Scottish ground, except the top of Criffel
wreathed in thin pearly mist of the evening.

Louis, save for the glory of keeping on a little farther than Stair
Garland, might very profitably have gone back with the troop of
twenty-five. Few would observe too closely the road chosen by such a
cavalcade. Supervisors drew back into convenient shelters. Outposts on
craggy summits, after one long look, shut up the reglementary brass
three-draw spy-glass and sat down with their backs to the road to smoke
a pipe. But Louis Raincy was to stay a night at Corby Castle before
turning his face homeward again towards his mother and grandfather.

When the time came to part Patsy held out her hand frankly to Louis.

"Thank you for coming so far," she said, "I shall not say good-bye, for
we shall soon be meeting in London, and you will be ever so grand in
your new uniform. The ladies will dote upon you. I shall tell them all
you are coming."

"Patsy," said poor Louis, "you are very cruel to me. You know I shall
only care for you in all the world."

"Fudge!" said Patsy irreverently, "you will like every single one of the
pretty girls--the really pretty girls, I mean--who admire you, and if
you don't know I shall tell you what to say to them."

"Patsy--!"

"Yes, I know, so you think now, but wait till you have had two or three
months of being an officer of dragoons and the heir to an earldom--I
wager that no Waters of Lethe would make you forget your old comrade
Patsy Ferris so completely!"

"Oh, Patsy," groaned Louis, "do not laugh!--You did not use to talk like
that in our nest under the big beech. Do not break my heart!"

"Strange to think," mused Patsy, "that it will not even affect his
appetite. Louis Raincy, cock your beaver on the side of your head. Cry,
'I don't care a button for you, Patsy Ferris' and ride