navy. Did you know that Miss Rawlinson was an old sweetheart of his? He
knew her when she lived in Jamaica with her father--several centuries
ago you would think, judging by their stories. Her father got £28,000
from the government when his slaves were emancipated. I wish I could get
the old admiral up to Dare--he and the mother would have some stories to
tell, I think. But you don't like long journeys at ninety-two."

He was in a pleasant and talkative humor, this bright-faced and stalwart
young fellow, with his proud, fine features and his careless air. One
could easily see how these old folks had made a sort of a pet of him.
But while he went on with this desultory chatting about the various
people whom he had met, and the friendly invitations he had received,
and the hopes he had formed of renewing his acquantainceship with this
person and the next person, should chance bring him again to London
soon, he never once mentioned the name of Miss Gertrude White, or
referred to her family, or even to her public appearances, about which
there was plenty of talk at this time. Yet Lieutenant Ogilvie, on his
rare visits to London, had more than once heard Sir Keith Macleod's name
mentioned in conjunction with that of the young actress whom society was
pleased to regard with a special and unusual favor just then; and once
or twice he, as Macleod's friend, had been archly questioned on the
subject by some inquisitive lady, whose eyes asked more than her words.
But Lieutenant Ogilvie was gravely discreet. He neither treated the
matter with ridicule, nor, on the other hand, did he pretend to know
more than he actually knew--which was literally nothing at all. For
Macleod, who was, in ordinary circumstances, anything but a reserved or
austere person, was on this subject strictly silent, evading questions
with a proud and simple dignity that forbade the repetition of them.
"_The thing that concerns you not, meddle not with:_" he observed the
maxim himself, and expected others to do the like.