“As to the leave, I would guarantee you should get that,” he said with a degree more of his usual asperity. “You know my own place is close by the Millards’; I am going there myself for the shooting, and I have a very particular wish to see more of you this autumn than I have had time to do lately. Don’t disappoint me in this, Lauriston; there are not many men whose society I think worth half-a-dozen words of request.” His tone, if not absolutely affectionate, was kindly enough as he said these last words to make George sorry to disappoint him, sorrier still to think what the elder man’s vexation and even grief would be when he should learn how far counter to his odd prejudice against brunettes the younger officer had run in his choice of a bride. “I gave up all hope of marrying your niece Ella, Colonel, on the evening when she refused me,” said he, feeling guilty and uncomfortable. “I should never think of asking her again, and I should feel so uncomfortable in her presence”--this he said most fervently, for nothing could be truer--“that I had given up all thought even of going there this morning, and have made another appointment, which I am bound to keep.” “You are bound to keep the one first made,” said the Colonel shortly, “as I know by a note I got from my sister-in-law that she expects you. Change your dress as quickly as you can; she wants us to be there early.” He turned away abruptly, and George went to his rooms without further protest, but in a white heat of rage at his own idiotcy in not remembering this wretched appointment. All he could do was to ask the Colonel to stay for a moment at a telegraph-office on their way to Grosvenor Square, and to send off a message to his poor little bride, telling her not to be lonely, that he should be detained a little while, but that he would be back as early as possible. Then the delicious thrill of possession that the writing of the address to “Mrs. Lauriston” gave him, was so enthralling that he lingered a few moments, pencil in hand, before rejoining his imperious senior officer waiting outside. Indeed neither man found great pleasure, on this occasion, in the other’s society. George guessed that the Colonel had resigned himself to the thought of his marrying the dark-complexioned Ella, only to avoid the worse evil of some dangerous entanglement, to which the young man’s recent conduct ominously pointed. Both were glad when Grosvenor Square was reached, and a rather intermittent conversation upon indifferent subjects broke up. The Millards all reproached George with having neglected them lately, and Sir Henry at once broached the subject of an invitation to Norfolk, the suggestion of which had pleased him greatly.