“I had to tell some one, Daddy. It is too splendid to enjoy all one’s self; and I was afraid if I told Mother she might not understand--she’s only a woman you know, and might put a wrong construction on my telling her, and so worry herself about me. And I didn’t dare to tell Aunt Judy, for she’s so chock full of romance that she would have simply gone crazy and chaffed me out of all reason. There is no holding back Aunt Judy when she is chasing after a romance! And besides, Daddy dear” here she took his arm and looked up in his face “I wanted you to know that Lord Athlyne is a gentleman.” Her father frowned: “Why should I know--or care?” “Not on your own part Daddy--but--but only because I want you to. It is hard to explain, but I think you took a prejudice against him from the first; and you see it makes it less awkward to be coupled with a man’s name, when the name and the man are good ones.” The Colonel’s frown was this time one of puzzlement. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. You never saw the man. Why should you dislike less to be coupled with him because he did a brave thing? Besides, the whole thing is mere nonsense.” “Of course it is, Daddy. All nonsense. But it is better to be good nonsense than bad nonsense!” “Look here daughter--my little girl--I’m afraid you have got or may get too fond of thinking of that fellow. Take care!” “Oh, that’s all right, Daddy. He is only an abstraction to me. But somehow he interests me. Don’t you be worrying about me. I promise you solemnly that I will tell you everything I hear about him. Then you can gauge my feelings, and keep tab of my folly.” “All right; little girl! There can’t be anything very dangerous when you tell your father all about it.” It was three months before Joy mentioned the name of Lord Athlyne again to her father. One morning she came to him as he sat smoking in the garden at Air. Her eyes were glistening, and she walked slowly and dejectedly. In her hand she held a copy of the New York _Tribune_. She held it out, pointing with her finger to a passage. “Read it for me, little girl!” In answer she said with a break in her voice: “You read it, Daddy. Don’t make me. It hurts me; and I should only break down. It is only a dream I know; but it is a sad dream and is over all too soon!” Colonel Ogilvie read the passage which was an account of the fighting at Durk River in which numbers of the British were carried away by the rapid stream, the hale and those wounded by the terrible fire of the Boers alike. The list of the missing was headed by a name he knew. “Major the Earl of Athlyne, of the Irish Hussars.” The old gentleman rose up as stiff as at the salute and raised his hat reverently as he said: “A very gallant gentleman. My heart is with you, my little girl! A dream it may have been; but a sad ending to any dream!”