Lord Florencecourt found his way up stairs to his son-in-law’s sitting-room in a state of great nervousness. He found George and Nouna, pale, thin, and languid as ever, the former sitting at the table, writing, while his tiny wife, curled up on the sofa with a large ball of wool, some long wooden pins, and a small, misshapen piece of work which was the result of many evenings’ labour, flattered herself that she was knitting. They were both surprised by this second visit from the Colonel, and by the fact that now he had come he seemed to have nothing to say. “What are you doing?” he asked Nouna at last. “I’m making George a comforter,” she answered proudly. “I can’t be idle while my husband’s at work.” “Well, it keeps you quiet at any rate,” he observed injudiciously, a glance at the comforter having convinced him that if ever it should be finished and worn it would belie its name. The Colonel fidgeted for a few moments, and the young people began to assume an attitude of expectancy, perceiving that something was to come of this unusual restlessness. “I suppose you wouldn’t like to leave Plymouth--to go anywhere--to--India, for instance,” he blurted out at last. Nouna sprang up with a cry, a great light in her eyes. George’s face flushed; he crossed the room and came to support his wife, who was tottering. “Why does he say it? why does he say it? It can’t be true, oh, it can’t be true!” sobbed she, burying her face in his breast. “What does it mean, Colonel? Are you serious?” asked George in a hoarse voice. He hated England just now, sore and beaten down as he still felt, but he had felt that to run away from it was cowardly, even if he had been able to afford it. This suggestion of change for himself and joy for Nouna therefore came upon his heart like a ray of bright light in the dead grey level of their languid lives. “Make all your preparations to-night,” said the Colonel, “for you will have to start to-morrow.” And, as if afraid of committing himself by any explanation, he left the room, and darted out of the house like a lad before they had time to stop him. In the street Ella and Clarence met him, full of excitement. “Well?” said they at the same time, both quivering with excitement. “It’s all right. I told them--just enough and no more. I said it rather suddenly perhaps, but I was afraid they’d ask questions. They’re to be ready to start to-morrow, I said. You couldn’t have managed better yourself, Ella. They were delighted, absolutely delighted.”