Thorforth was very fond of my cousin; the state of her feelings towards
him it was some time before I could fathom, but the revelation came at
last, and quite unexpectedly.

There was an old ruin some distance from the house, where, one lovely
moonlight night, I happened to be seated alone. I was not long alone,
however; from a window I could see my cousin and Thorforth coming
towards the place, and, thinking to surprise them, I drew back under the
shadow of a portion of the wall. But I was not to be an actor in that
scene, though it was one I shall never forget. I could not see _his_
face, but hers, on which the moonbeams fell, was pained,
half-frightened, impatient. He was telling her he loved her and asking
her to love him in return. She stopped him at last.

What she said need not be told. In a few moments he was gone, and she
was standing where he left her, following him with pitying eyes as he
walked hurriedly away.

Next day Magnus Thorforth said goodbye and left: even his sister looked
sad. She must have known it all. I never saw them again.

One day, about a month after this, Maggie and I were together in a cave
close by the ocean--a favourite haunt of ours on hot forenoons. Our boat
was drawn up close by, the day was bright, and the sea calm, its tiny
wavelets making drowsy, dreamy music on the yellow sands.

She had been reading aloud, and I was gazing at her face.

"I begin to think you are beautiful," I said.

She looked down at me where I lay with those innocent eyes of hers, that
always looked into mine as frankly as a child's would.

"I'm not sure," I continued, "that I sha'n't commence making love to
you, and perhaps I might marry you. What would you think of that?"

"Love!" she laughed, as musically as a sea-nymph--"love? Love betwixt a
cousin and a cousin? Preposterous!"

"I daresay," I said, pretending to pout, "you wouldn't marry me because
I'm poor."

"Poor!" she repeated, looking very firm and earnest now; "if the man I
loved were poor, I'd carry a creel for him--I'd gather shells for his
sake; but I don't love anybody and don't mean to. Come."

So that was the beginning and end of my love-making for Cousin Maggie.

And Maggie had said she never meant to love any one. Well, we never can
tell what may be in our immediate future.

Hardly had we left the cave that day, and put off from the shore, ere
cat's-paws began to ruffle the water. They came in from the west, and
before we had g