Colonel Greyson listened like a man in a stupor, but he had no suspicion of the nature of Sir Harold’s trouble until it was revealed to him in words that seemed to quiver with agony. “Only a lovers’ quarrel,” he interjected. “No, colonel, it is no ordinary affair. Mine is no ordinary love; it is life or death to me. I have not shaped my life in any stereotyped pattern. I have always been afraid of linking my fate with another, because I am so intense in all that I profess. It is my misfortune. I believed that Lady Elaine was capable of loving after my fashion of loving, but I was wrong, and I wish you to understand that I do not blame her, though my disappointment will embitter my whole life.” “You must see her again,” said the colonel, “and I’ll wager that it is nothing but a storm in a teacup.” “No, I could not bear the agony of another interview. I have appealed to her in vain. The reply she has sent to me is final. The engagement is at an end, and the world may judge as it pleases. I do not suppose that Lady Elaine will care one jot.” “You wrong her,” Colonel Greyson retorted, a little angrily. “I have known Lady Elaine from childhood. She is as good as she is beautiful.” “I admit that. But, oh, the agony of knowing that she is soulless!” “I will not listen to such nonsense!” fumed the colonel. “I will see her myself. It is a duty I owe to both of you, for, in a measure, I brought you together. Curse Viscount Rivington! I say--though I have no doubt that your own insane jealousy is at the root of all the trouble. No young woman of spirit would put up with it. I am determined to hear both sides of the story.” Sir Harold shook his head gloomily. “I will not be content to have the matter patched up,” he said. “My wife must be all in all to me. My ideal is in my dreams, and to that alone will I be wedded.” “Stuff!” interrupted the colonel, inelegantly. “All stuff, sir, depend upon it! Lady Elaine Seabright will be your wife, and a more perfect woman never breathed!” To accentuate this Colonel Greyson brought his fist down upon the table with a bang. “Heaven help me!” went on Sir Harold. “I loved her as I believed her to be, not as she is, and shall do so for evermore!” “Once again,” pleaded the colonel, “I ask you to see her. You are acting like an insane man. Why will you wreck two lives when----”