He spoke with such earnestness and warmth, that Wilmot looked up at him, half in pleasure, half in wonder. Ronald noticed the glance, and said, "If you have heard me mentioned at all, Dr. Wilmot, you have probably heard it said that I am a man with a stone instead of a heart, with the _Cavalry Officer's Instructions_ instead of a Bible; and therefore I cannot wonder at your look of astonishment. But what I have stated to you is pure and simple fact. I love these two infinitely better than my life." Wilmot bowed again. He felt ashamed of his reiterated acquiescence, but had nothing more satisfactory to proffer. "Now, I don't see much of my family," pursued Ronald. "Their ways of life are different from mine; and except when they happen to be in London we are seldom thrown together. This may be to be regretted, or it may not; at all events the fact is so. But whether I see them or not, my interest in them never slackens. There are people, I know--most people, I believe--to whom propinquity is a necessary ingredient for affection. They must be near those they love--must be brought into constant communication, personal communication with them, or their love dies out. That is affection of a type which I cannot understand; it is a great deal too spaniel-or ivy-like for my comprehension. I could go on for years without seeing those I love, and love them all the same. Consequently, although when the eight or nine weeks' whirl which my family calls the London season is at an end, and I scarcely see them until it begins again, I do not take less interest in their proceedings, nor is my keen affection for those I love one whit diminished. You follow me?" "So far, perfectly." "I was detained here on duty in London during last August and September; and even if I had been free, I doubt whether I should have been with my people at Kilsyth. As I have just said, their ways of life, their amusements and pursuits are different from mine, and I should probably have been following my own fancies somewhere else. But I always hear from some of them with the greatest regularity; and I heard, of course, of my sister's illness, and of your being called in to attend upon her. Your name was thoroughly familiar to me. What my friends call my 'odd ways' have made me personally acquainted with several of the leading members of your profession; and directly I heard that you had arrived at Kilsyth, I knew that Madeleine could not possibly be in better hands." To anyone else Wilmot would have said that she could not have been under the charge of anyone who would have taken greater interest in her case; but he had not forgotten the interview of yesterday, and he forbore.