The week passed, and another week followed it. There was still no news from Roger Musgrave, and the Colonel grew at once impatient and anxious. These feelings, struggling with his punctilious and old-fashioned hospitality, made him exceedingly uncomfortable. He could no longer enjoy the presence of his guest, while at the same time it was against all his traditions of friendliness to suggest anything to him which should shorten his stay, or make him feel himself unwelcome. The Colonel, to whom all the varied sentiments of life had come in their due season, could not see the baronet's perplexities and pre-occupations in presence of womankind without secret amusement and wonder; and Sir John's regards, divided between Miss Mulligatawny and her niece, surprised his host into occasional accesses of private laughter; but this by no means sufficed to divert the Colonel, as it diverted his visitor, from the important object which had originally brought him here. Colonel Sutherland never entered his cosy dining-room in the morning without the dread of finding a letter from Roger, telling of some step which was irrevocable, and carried him quite out of their reach. He went to rest with that thought in the evening, and took it up on waking the next day: he began to be quite restless and full of discomfort; he even meditated setting out by himself to London to find the young man: he wrote to various old friends in town, begging them to make inquiries. Then he repeated to himself, "Make inquiries! look for a needle in a bundle of hay!" Yet, nevertheless, sent off his letters. On the whole, nothing had so agitated and disturbed the Colonel for years. He pictured to himself the lingering hope of being yet sought after and aided, which would dwell in the youth's mind unawares: he imagined the hope sickening, the expectation failing: he thought of the bitter enlightenment, which has ceased to believe in words and promises, growing round the boy: he felt his own word losing its meaning, and his own earnest desire frustrated. Then, unable to keep silence, in spite of his reticence as host, he spoke to Sir John on the subject. Sir John made light of his troubles: "My dear fellow, what can they do with a batch of new recruits in a week--three weeks, is it? Very well, then, three weeks; what do you suppose could be done in that time? Besides, have you any certainty that troops are being sent abroad at all? I don't know of any; and for the Queen's service, you know, I ought to be almost a better authority than yourself. No, no, have patience--we'll hear from the boy presently, I have not the slightest doubt of it. Give him up?--no, not a bit! but a little knocking about will do him good--always does young men good! If you look so very serious, I shall believe you want to get rid of me."