"Sit down, Colonel; do sit down," she said. "I am so glad to see you. How very fortunate that I was not out. I told Bridget to say that I could not be disturbed this morning, for I am specially engaged; but never to you, dear Colonel; never to you." The Colonel made no response of any sort. He sat and stared moodily at Mrs Fortescue. Mrs Fortescue was puzzled at the expression on his face. "And how is my dear child?" she said. "You know I call both the dear Heathcote girls my children. They have been as children to me for many years now, and ah! how fondly I have tried to act a mother's part to both of them, God alone can tell." "If I were you, madam," said the Colonel somewhat severely, "I would leave the name of the Almighty out of this business. There are times and seasons for everything, and this, in my opinion, is not the time to speak of God, except, indeed, to beg for His forgiveness, which all we poor sinners need--all, all of us." The Colonel's voice changed as he uttered the last words, but only for an instant. Once again his black brows came beetling down over his eyes, and once more he looked like one ready to fight to the death in a losing cause. Mrs Fortescue was not, however, a woman possessed of any insight to character. She was as essentially worldly minded as Colonel Arbuthnot was the reverse. "How is my Florence?" she repeated. "Florence Heathcote is well, thank you." "It was so noble of you to take her into your house as you have done," said Mrs Fortescue. "Few in your circumstances would have done it. It was just the very thing for the dear child--a sort of stepping stone for her, in fact, to--" "To what?" asked the Colonel. His tone slightly startled Mrs Fortescue. "To her future life, my dear friend. Alack and alas! to think that those poor children should be the sport of poverty. How cruel was their father's will! How much, much more sensible it would have been to send them both to a charity school, and keep the little money for their needs when they grew up, that has been lavishly wasted year after year on their education. I have been counting carefully, and I make not the least doubt--" "Excuse me," said the Colonel: "I have come just to ask you a question and then to leave you. I am somewhat busy, and have not a moment to spare. Did you, or did you not, Mrs Fortescue--" "Why, what is it?" asked Mrs Fortescue. "What a severe tone you are taking, my dear Colonel--and we have been such old friends." "_Will you listen_?" said the Colonel, and he thumped his hand on the table with such force that one of the letters which Mrs Fortescue was answering dropped on the floor. "Of course I will listen," she said gently. "Do calm yourself, dear Colonel. What can be wrong?" "Nothing; at least, I hope nothing. I simply want to ask you one question, and I am then going." "Of course I will answer it."