“But can you obtain leave to go? You have to go abroad, won't you?” “Yes, of course.” “But can you leave your regiment?” “Oh yes. I can get leave of absence for as long a time as will be needed for that, I think, without difficulty. In fact, before leaving London, as soon as I heard Barber's opinion, I put in my request at once for two months' leave, and I have every reason to believe that they will allow it. I have one or two influential friends, you know.” “And will you really go? asked Edith, in tones of deep feeling, with all her gratitude evident in her tone and expression. “Yes, if you will allow me.” “I?--allow you? I am only too glad to have a friend who is willing to undertake such a thing for me in my distress.” “There is nothing, Miss Dalton, which I would not undertake for you.” “You are overwhelming me with obligations,” said Edith. “What you have already done is more than I can ever repay.” “Do not speak of obligations,” said Dudleigh, earnestly. “My best reward is the thought that I may have given you even a temporary relief.” “You have given me much happiness,” said Edith, earnestly; “and if it proves to be only temporary it will not be your fault. You overwhelm me with a sense of obligation.” “Now really, Miss Dalton, if you talk in that way, you will make me feel ashamed. After all, what have I done? Nothing more than any gentleman would do. But do not say a word about it again. Let it be taken for granted that I do this from a selfish motive--simply to please myself, you know; simply because I love--to do it.” Dudleigh spoke in his usual quiet way, without any particular ardor, although once or twice his voice grew more earnest than usual. Edith said nothing. She felt a little embarrassed, but the self-possession of Dudley was perfect; he hinted strongly at love, but seemed not at all like an ardent lover. He looked and acted simply like a friend; and as Edith needed a friend above all things, she was glad to accept his services.