A mere sin of omission, which even now it is not too late to repair. I am a young man still---- LADY WARGRAVE. Young man? COLONEL. Comparatively. And everything in the world is comparative. What cannot be undone in the past can at least be avoided in the future. LADY WARGRAVE. What is the matter with you, Theodore? You have suddenly become quite a moral martinet, and have developed such a severity of aspect that I scarcely know my own brother. COLONEL [_aside_]. Shall I tell her? Dare I? Courage! LADY WARGRAVE. I think I liked you better as you were. At any rate, I was used to you. COLONEL. How peaceful it is here, Caroline--how sylvan! LADY WARGRAVE. Yes, it's a pretty little place enough. COLONEL. It might have been created expressly for the exchange of those sacred confidences which are never more becoming than when shared between a brother and a sister. LADY WARGRAVE. Good gracious! you are growing quite sentimental! I have no confidences to make. COLONEL. But _I_ have. LADY WARGRAVE. Theodore! What fresh iniquity--? COLONEL. Caroline, I am going to be married. [_Blows his nose vigorously._ LADY WARGRAVE [_astounded_]. Married! COLONEL. To-morrow. LADY WARGRAVE. To whom, pray? COLONEL. Miss Bethune. LADY WARGRAVE. Give me my smelling salts. COLONEL [_gives her them_]. Enid! Pretty name, isn't it? Enid! [_Smiling to himself._ LADY WARGRAVE. No fool like an old fool! COLONEL. Fifty-six. LADY WARGRAVE. Eight. COLONEL. But don't tell Enid, will you? LADY WARGRAVE. There are so many things I mustn't tell Enid! COLONEL. No, Caroline; I've made a clean breast of it. LADY WARGRAVE. _Quite_ a clean breast of it? COLONEL. Everything in the world is comparative. LADY WARGRAVE. Then, Miss Bethune has renounced her opinions? COLONEL. Oh, no; she's too much of a woman for that. LADY WARGRAVE. How can she reconcile them with your enormities? COLONEL. My peccadilloes? Oh, she doesn't believe them--or she pretends she doesn't--which is the same thing. She says we men exaggerate so; and as for the women, you simply can't believe a word they say! [_Chuckles in his old style._ LADY WARGRAVE. At any rate, she means to marry you? COLONEL. Upon the whole, she thinks I have been rather badly used. [_Chuckles again._ LADY WARGRAVE. To marry! after your experience! COLONEL. Way of the world, my dear. My poor old adjutant! went through the Mutiny unscathed, and killed in Rotten Row! LADY WARGRAVE. Well, it was quite time that you had a nurse! [_Rising and going R. front to meet MARGERY._ COLONEL. Caroline's taken it very well. Nothing like courage in these matters--courage! "Nurse" was distinctly nasty; but that's Caroline's way. _Re-enter ARMSTRONG, R., followed by MARGERY._ ARMSTRONG. Found her at last, my lady. LADY WARGRAVE. Leave us together, Armstrong. [_MARGERY drops a curtsey._ ARMSTRONG.