primroses, it was most impertinent of him; but he is often impertinent in joking.  What must he think of me that I should seem to have taken this seriously, and treasured up that miserable and horrid piece of weed, and put his initials below it, and the important date?  You put thoughts into my head that cover me with shame.  I should not be fit to live if I were what you take me to be.  If I thought there was another human being in the world who could imagine or suspect what you apparently desire, I would resolve this moment never to see Mr. Trelyon again; and much harm that would do either him or me!  But I am too proud to think that any one could imagine such a thing.  Nor did I expect that to come from my own sister, who ought to know what my true relations are with regard to Mr. Trelyon.  I like him very much, as I told him to his face two days before we left Eglosilyan; and that will show you what our relations are.  I think he is a very frank, generous and good young man, and a clever and cheerful companion; and my mother has to-day to thank him for about the pleasantest little trip she has ever enjoyed.  But as for your wishing me to preserve a flower that he sent, or that you think he sent to me, why, I feel my face burning at the thought of what you suggest.  And what can I say to him now, supposing he has seen it?  Can I tell him that my own sister thought such things of me?  Perhaps, after all, the simplest way to set matters right will be for me to break off the acquaintance altogether; and that will show him whether I was likely to have treasured up a scrap of London pride in my Prayer-book.

     “I am your loving sister,

     “WENNA ROSEWARNE.”

Meanwhile, Harry Trelyon was walking up and down the almost empty thoroughfare by the side of the sea, the stars overhead shining clearly in the dark night, the dimly-seen waves falling monotonously on the shelving beach.  “To keep a flower, that is nothing,” he was saying to himself.  “All girls do that, no matter who gives it to them.  I suppose she has lots more, all with the proper initials and date attached.”

It was not an agreeable reflection; he turned to other matters:  “If she were to care for me a little bit, would it be mean of me to try to carry her off from that man?  Is it possible that he has the same feeling for her that I have?  In that case it would be mean.  Now, when I think of her, the whole world seems filled with her presence somehow, and everything is changed.  When I hear the sea in the morning I think of her, and wonder where she is; when I see a fine day I hope she is enjoying it somewhere; the whole of Penzance has become magical.  It is no longer the same town.  I used to come to it and never see it in the old days, when one was busy about stables and the pilchard fishing and the reports of the quarries.  Now the whole of Penzance has got a sort of charm in it since Wenna Rosewarne has come to it.  I look at the houses, and wonder if the people inside know anybody fit to compare with her; and one becomes grateful to the good weather for shining round about her and making her happy.  I suppose the weather knows what she deserves.”