“And extreme rare, Bob.” Here Sir John scowled at the old cross and became bitter all at once. “Aye, indeed, true love in a woman is as hard to find as flies in winter or ice in summer, by heaven!” “Indeed, sir?” answered Robert the Imperturbable. “Will you have your blue and silver in the valise or——” “Damn my blue and silver!” “Yes, sir.... Or shall I pack it in the trunk along o’——” “Curse the trunk! Curse everything! I’m talking o’ love!” “Very good, your honour.” “And I say that women’s love is a devilish shy thing, very apt to take wing and fly away. ’Tis found but to be lost. ’Tis a slight thing and very transient. Pluck it and it withers, grasp it and it crumbles to sorry dust, taste it and ’tis ashes in the mouth. ’Tis a bitter-sweet, an emptiness, a merest bagatelle, an apple o’ Sodom!” “Indeed, sir? And will you wear your light walking-sword with the silver——” “Burn ye, Bob, are ye attending? I said an apple o’ Sodom!” “Why, your honour, it don’t sound a very tasty fruit.” Sir John’s gloomy features were lightened by a passing smile. “Ah, well,” he sighed, “Venus be kind to thee, Bob!... And to-day you begin your new duties. You will look to the comfort and welfare of the tenantry?” “I’ll do my best, sir.” “Aye, I’m sure you will.” “Though your honour will be sorely missed.... And the old House o’ Dering ... all done up like noo, such paintin’ and gildin’ ... and now to go empty still! Aye, High Dering will surely miss your honour.” “Never i’ the world, Bob!” “And Sir Hector will likewise miss ye, sir.” “Aye, he may.” “And I shall miss your honour.” “For a little while, mayhap.” “Always and ever, sir!” “You will have a young and pretty wife soon, Bob.” “Aye ... and she will miss ye too, sir—we shall both miss ye.... And there’s—others, sir——” “Who, pray?” “Your lady, sir.” “I ha’ no lady.” “I mean Mrs. Rose——” “There is no such creature!” “Well, sir, my Lady Barrasdaile, your honour, she will be——” “Enough!” said Sir John in his haughtiest tone, and regarding the Corporal with his iciest air of fine-gentlemanly aloofness. “You may leave me, Robert!” “But I’ve your honour’s valise to pack, sir, and——” “Then you may pack it elsewhere ... pray, leave me!” The Corporal glanced furtively askance, and, noting the droop of Sir John’s eyelids, the tilt of his chin, gathered up clothes and valise and, shaking gloomy head, departed forthwith.