"There--there--you absurd monkey!" but the monkey was pushed aside with a gentle hand, and marching off with all the honours of the field in his own esteem, the general never once looked at Sue. CHAPTER VII. "I HAVE LOST SOMETHING THAT I NEVER HAD." Throughout the foregoing scene Leonore had evinced a quickness of perception and a delicacy beyond what might have been expected from one so young and volatile,--but directly she was alone a revulsion of feeling took place. Sue had tottered from the dining-room without so much as a glance towards herself. That was nothing. She understood, and did not in the least resent it--since any recognition of her protecting agency would have openly acknowledged what the hapless spinster might still hope was only vaguely guessed at; but it was the thing itself, the incredible, incomprehensible thing which staggered, and, it must be owned, in a sense revolted her. She flew out of doors. There only, out of sight and hearing, could her bewildered senses realise what had passed, and grasp its full significance. There only dared she give way to the spasms of passionate amazement and incredulity which found vent in reiterated ejaculations of Sue's name. Sue? _Sue?_ SUE? She found herself crying it over and over again, and each time with a fresh intonation. Sue? It was impossible--it was unnatural--it was horrible. Sue? She stamped her foot, and sent a pebble flying down the path. Sue--poor old Sue--dear old Sue--"Old" Sue, whichever way you took it, how could she, how _could_ she? In Leo's eyes, Sue, verging on middle age, had never been young; earliest reminiscences pictured her the same composed and tranquil creature, with the same detachment from life as regarded herself, the same contented absorption in the concerns of others, that was present now to the eyes of all. No one ever thought of Sue in connection with love or matrimony; not even in years gone by; not even when Leo was a child. True, she had her own niche in the family and household, and it was by no means an unimportant one--but it was high upon a shelf as regarded affairs of the heart. Her dress, her habits, her punctilio in small matters--all that she did or said marked her the typical old maid, and had done so for years out of mind--so that the present revelation was worse than shocking, it was cruel. For the best part of an hour the storm raged. She found herself repeating her father's words "preposterous!"--"outrageous!"--and endorsing them with throbs of scorn and anger. The sister she loved, the woman she venerated was lowered in her eyes. She was pained, as well as shocked....