As the last thought flashed through her mind Susie returned with the Colonel. They came in together, and the Colonel held a letter in his hand. He was somewhat shabby in his dress. He always was shabby in the house; but he never stooped in body, being a soldier; and he never stooped in mind, being a gentleman. He came forward quite simply, and held out his hand to Mrs Fortescue. "How do you do? It is a beautiful day, is it not?" Mrs Fortescue felt immensely relieved. The Colonel had evidently quite forgiven her. He was a nice man and--yes, she acknowledged it to herself--such a gentleman. Susie was very blunt; but the Colonel had exquisite manners when he liked, and he seemed to like now, for he invited Mrs Fortescue to take a warm seat near the fire and poked it up for her benefit. Then, turning his own back to it, he looked at her with a whimsical expression on his pleasant face. "Susie tells me that you have been good enough to express regret with regard to Brenda and Florence Heathcote." "Oh, yes--yes!" said Mrs Fortescue, clasping her hands. "I am so sorry for them." "Well, there is no possible reason why you should not be relieved of any feeling of uneasiness with regard to my two young friends. Florence did not wish her letter to be kept a secret, did she, Susie?" "No, father; quite the contrary," said Susie. She had not returned to her marmalade. She was standing not far from her father, one of her hands resting on the mantelpiece. "I have had a letter from Florence Heathcote this morning," said the Colonel. "It was really written both to my daughter and myself." "Has she found employment?" asked Mrs Fortescue. "Well--yes; that is, her future plans and those of her sister are practically arranged for the next few years." "I am very glad," said Mrs Fortescue, speaking in a cold, disappointed voice. "Ah, well," said the Colonel, "and so am I--very glad. But you haven't heard all yet. You don't know, far instance, what the girls mean to do." "I do not," said Mrs Fortescue; "and I am so much interested in them-- so very much--dear children, dear children!" "You had an opportunity of showing your interest a week ago," said the Colonel, very gravely--"your interest and your sympathy. The fact is, Mrs Fortescue, both that interest and sympathy have come now rather late in the day--in short, they are not required. The girls go to Girton in the autumn, and until that time, they will be preparing for their life there, under the best masters that London can provide. They will live, until they go to Girton, with Lady Marian Dixie." "Then she has taken them up!" said Mrs Fortescue, quivering rage in her voice. "She has in a sort of way adopted them? Yes," she continued, half-choking with futile anger; "but they need not trust to the whims of rich women. She may change her mind a thousand times and leave all her money in the end to some one else. I have seen it done--I have known it done times out of number."