She was strangely glad, but vexed at having changed colour; but when he came up with her, in the deep shadow thrown by the old pier, with its thick festooneries, he could not tell, he only knew she looked beautiful.
'My dreams take wing, but my follies will not leave me.

And you have been ill, Miss Lilias ?' 'Oh, nothing; only a little cold.' 'And I am going--I only knew last night--really going away.' He paused; but the young lady did not feel called upon to say anything, and only allowed him to go on.

In fact, she was piqued, and did not choose to show the least concern about his movements.

'And I've a great mind now that I'm departing this little world,' and he glanced, it seemed to her, regretfully towards the village, 'to put you down, Miss Lily, if you will allow it, in my codicil for a legacy----' She laughed a pleasant little careless laugh.

How ill-natured! but, oh! wasn't it musical.
'Then I suppose, if you were not to see me for some time, or maybe for ever, the village folks won't break their hearts after Dick Devereux ?' And the gipsy captain smiled, and his eyes threw a soft violet shadow down upon her; and there was that in his tone which for a moment touched her with a strange reproach, like a bar of sweet music.
But little Lily was spirited; and if _he_, so early a friend, could go away without bidding good-bye, why he should not suppose _she_ cared.
'Break our hearts?
Not at all, perhaps; but of course I--the parson's daughter--I should, and old Moore, the barber, and Pat Moran, the hackney coachman, and Mrs.Irons your fat landlady, you've been so very good to all of us, you know.' 'Well,' he interrupted, 'I've left my white surtout to Moran: a hat, let me see, and a pair of buckles to Moore; and my glass and china to dear Mrs.Irons.' 'Hat--buckles--surtout--glass--china--gone! Then it seems to me your earthly possessions are pretty nearly disposed of, and your worldly cares at an end.' 'Yes; very nearly, but not quite,' he laughed.